Gryffon felt the gaze of the KarmaKon brush over his back like the breeze from a fan on a warm Summer's night. Difference being that the flow of particles would have flayed the living skin from him were it not for the ablative jacket he wore. Out here, the only things that were meant to move we're dust balls and meteors.
Shuffling left, before the cycloptic eye ran the fixing scan, Gryffon dropped into a natural depression in the landscape. For the moment, he could get his bearings. Daylight to the right, arctic blasts from below and a wan yellow glow over his right shoulder meant he was no more than twenty meters from the drain.
A rhythmic thrum, repeated from three locations signaled a shift in scans from the KKs. Something had changed.
This was not good.
Hunkering down in the channel, Gryffon had to remain as still as a rock. With four KKs bearing down on his location, his only chance was to look as much like the landscape as he could. These sentinels knew each section of their scans but where they overlapped, they couldn't separate their data sets. Lying on a border, Gryffon barely breathed and looked as rock like as possible.
Shame then that the whistling sound of the incoming meteorite chose that moment to impinge on his consciousness.
This was going to be a long session.
