“What are you doing?” Snart asked. “It’s a question that doesn’t need explaining. What. Are. You. Doing?”
Seb hooked a thumb in the direction of the large metal box he’d just moved and said, “Moving boxes.”
“Don’t get smart with me.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re not moving boxes. You might be pretending to move boxes, but it looks to me like you’re resting up while everyone else moves boxes.”
The shrill words of his boss carried through the cavernous space, and for a moment, every pair of eyes in the room stopped and focused on Seb. “I’ve just moved a box, Snart. I wanted to take a minute to rest before I move the next one.”
“Do you see anyone else resting?”
A glance around the room, and if anyone had been resting before that moment, they certainly weren’t now.
Before Seb could reply, Snart said, “You humans aren’t cut out for this work. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t employ a single one of you. You’re weak, slow, and so bloody sensitive to the changing environments. I want workers that are flexible to our needs, not the other way round.”
Seb laughed. “All of that on the wage you pay? You don’t want much, do you?”
Snart stepped so close, Seb had to breathe through his mouth to stop the creature’s sweaty scent from choking him. With just inches separating them, he stared at the Granth’s waxy skin and the slimy secretion that coated it. A slow heave rolled through his stomach.
“Look,” Seb said, holding up the palm of his right hand at Snart, “maybe humans aren’t suited for this kind of work, but you have to employ me. You know that, and I know that. You need a certain variation of species aboard your ship to get all the tax relief you can, so don’t pretend I don’t earn this company money by being here. Humans tend to get better jobs than this, so the way I see it, you need me more than I need you. It’ll take you a while to find someone like me who’s prepared to put up with your nonsense.”
Snart’s bulbous jaw looked like a deflated football strapped to his chin. It moved up and down, but no words came out as he clearly looked for a response in his hollow mind. After a few seconds, he reached out and cuffed Seb around the back of the head.
Snart had hands as large as dinner plates, and the heavy blow threw stars across Seb’s vision. As he shook it off, he looked at his boss and everything slipped into slow motion. The space beneath Snart’s right eye begged to be struck, and Seb balled his hands into fists as he stared at him.
But he refrained. He’d promised his dad he would no longer be led by his ego. Snart challenged that more than anyone he’d met since making the promise, but he had to stick to his word.
Snart cuffed Seb again before he stepped away. “Get back to work before I take disciplinary action against you.”
As Snart walked off, Seb continued to stroke his dad’s old snake necklace. It gave him the presence of mind to hold back more than anything ever had before.
With his jaw locked so tightly it ran streaks of pain up the side of his face, Seb drew deep breaths and stared at the broad back of his boss. Seb would be compliant … for now.
Chapter 6
No matter where Seb directed his attention to on his body, it ached. Stabbing pains ripped across the back of his shoulders from shoving the large boxes. Sharp pains like broken glass sat in his knees from having to bend down and stand up again so many times. Swollen knuckles made it tricky for him to open and close his grip from where the cold of the air-conditioned cargo bay had worked into his joints.
Seb walked into the canteen at the end of his shift with ginger steps and locked in a permanent wince. He drew shallow breaths to try to ease the nausea in his tense stomach. Another day of moving the massive metal boxes with the eggs in them would break him.
The change from the gloomy red light of the cargo bay to the bright white strip lighting of the dining area burned Seb’s eyes, and he blinked several times to clear his blurred vision.
Shuffling like the undead, Seb groaned internally as he made his way through the canteen. He did his best to avoid the further pain of bumping into any one of the many beings that flitted about in the busy space. The culmination of the collective sounds from all of the diners in the packed canteen rose up into the high ceiling and mixed into a disorientating white noise that stabbed at Seb’s tired brain.
At the centre of the ship, the canteen took up more space than any sector on The Bandolin, other than the cargo bay. Everything in the space had been made from steel like most other parts of the ship. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the benches that had been bolted into the floor—even the serving hatch the canteen workers handed the food through. In fact, it would be easier to list the things in the canteen that hadn’t been made from steel.
Seb joined the long queue waiting for food. Although everyone on the ship shared the same queue, each sector had their own separate dining areas. Some chose to mingle, but it had to be done by mutual consent. As a result, the beings who worked in the cargo bays had to stay put in their grimy corner. The lowest of the low, they bore the label of ‘trouble’; and with so many fights and fallings-out in public spaces, who could blame the others for making that judgement of them. There had even been a petition to give the cargo workers a separate area to collect their cutlery and food from, but it had been dismissed as discriminatory.
Although the wall on his left side had been made from cold steel, Seb still leaned against it as he waited in line. Every ten seconds or so, the long string of bodies would shift forward a step and stop again.
So tired from his day, Seb fought against his heavy eyes as he looked at the people around him. Withdrawn into a semi-delirious state, his thoughts slowed to a near halt and not much made sense to him at that moment. He snapped from his daze when Snart and his two cronies appeared, pushed him aside, and moved in front of him in the queue.
Snart rocked from side to side in front of Seb and stared at him with a smug grin on his wide face. The two Mandulus that he always had with him, Wenko and Zenko, were brothers. Like the brute Seb fought in the bar a few years back, the pair had the inflated sense of self that went with being a member of their warrior race. They too stared at Seb as they silently tried to provoke him.
Although the delirium of near sleep had left Seb, he didn’t react. Instead, he continued to stare at the three of them and stroked his dad’s snake necklace. They wouldn’t drag him into a fight in such a crowded area.
The fact that Seb didn’t respond seemed to irk Snart, who spoke in a loud voice so everyone could hear. “We’re pushing in front because we, unlike you, pull our weight in the cargo bay. You’re a lazy good-for-nothing that doesn’t deserve to eat, let alone eat before us.”
Those in the queue around them looked at Seb. The temperature seemed to increase in the canteen, and Seb pulled on his collar to ease the itch of sweat that ran around it. Still, he did not reply.
“I saw him picking his nose for half of his shift today,” one of the brothers said. Wenko … Zenko—Seb could never tell. And he really didn’t care to. Both of them had the broken horns that came from their bottom jaw up over their top lips. Both of them were built like large lumps of machinery; both of them would go down like a flower with a broken stem if hit in the correct place. Seb shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. No matter how much he wanted to hurt them, he’d made a promise to his dad.
For the entire time he’d queued, Seb tolerated the looks and wisecracks from the three creatures in front of him. Their collective weight had to be at least ten times that of Seb’s, but the more they pushed him, the more obvious their weak spots became. Both brothers had chins of glass like most of their race, and the space beneath Snart’s right eye would drop him like a puppet with its strings cut.
After the three of them had taken their food, Seb took his. The canteen offered very little choice, so Seb never bothered to ask what he’d been served. Mostly stew full of some synthetic roots of one kind or anot
her. Pretty bland, it tasted of salt and it always smelled like gravy, but it had been genetically modified to have the perfect balance of vitamins, minerals, and calories. Since Seb had been on the ship, he’d never been ill.
As Seb walked toward the section of the canteen where the cutlery sat, one of the brothers walked toward him, his focus on something behind Seb. Whatever he wanted, it didn’t matter, as long as he got out of Seb’s face.
However, at the last minute, the brother’s arm shot out and he whacked the bottom of Seb’s tray. The loud crack snapped through the huge open space to be followed by a crash as the tray and Seb’s food hit the cold metal floor.
With his usual booming voice, Snart walked over to Seb and spoke so most of the canteen could hear it. “See, this useless piece of dung can’t even carry a tray of food. Why are we still paying this fool to work in cargo?”
For a moment, Seb remained on his feet and looked around. It seemed that most of the faces in the place had turned his way. As he drowned in the weight of their collective mirth, Seb shook. His pulse throbbed as a wet boom in his ears and he focused his attention on Snart. The space beneath his right eye, big enough for a fist, screamed to be whacked.
Seb clenched his fists as Snart tilted his head to one side. “Go on, little man, do it.”
However, Seb withdrew from his rage, and the prominence of Snart’s weak spot pulled away from him. With a heavy sigh that sank through his entire body, Seb hunched down and picked up his ruined lunch.
Accompanied by the sound of what sounded like a thousand different sniggers, Seb placed his plate back on his tray and tried to pick up some of the stew, which had mostly soaked through the holes in the floor.
Because Seb focused on the tidy-up, the first he knew of one of the brothers approaching came with excruciating pain through his left fist as the brute stamped on his hand. The heavy foot, as large as Seb’s head, slammed down so hard, something snapped, and a screaming pain instantly ran from his knuckles straight up his forearm.
Seb resisted the urge to howl, left his tray on the ground, and jumped to his feet. He might have had a broken left hand, but as he stepped close to the brother, he balled his stronger right hand into a fist. Heat rushed through Seb’s face as he clenched his jaw and looked up at the ugly creature that stood at least two feet taller than Seb.
With a smug and derogatory glare, the beast said, “What?” The boom of his voice hit Seb in the sternum like a hard shove, and he stumbled backwards.
Everything slowed down for Seb, so when the brother repeated his question, it came out as a long bass roll. Overwhelmed by his booming pulse, Seb breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Wound as a coiled spring, every ache he’d felt when he’d entered the canteen had vanished.
Despite his rage, Seb managed to pull himself from it, and the world around him returned to normal speed again. The spot on the Mandulu’s chin faded away, and the voice of Snart came through clearer than ever.
“You’re a waste of space, Seb. Why don’t you do us all a favour and quit this job?” The words echoed through the vast hall as the only sound.
Seb looked at the thousands of faces that stared at him and didn’t respond.
“Why don’t you get dropped off at the next spaceport and earn your living sweeping floors or cleaning toadstools from toenails?”
Some of the beings in the canteen laughed at Snart’s words, but Seb held onto his fury. He’d made a promise and he’d stick to it.
“Why don’t you go running back home, mama’s boy?”
Something—other than one of the bones in his hand—snapped in Seb, and everything flicked back into slow motion.
Chapter 7
With the world around him at a virtual halt, Seb rushed at Snart. When he got close, he lunged at his boss, his fat and smug face still split with a leering grin. Seb let his broken left hand hang down and caught him with a jab beneath the eye with his right. Ripples ran across the fat Granth’s face from the point of impact, and before Seb had pulled his hand away, Snart’s piggy eyes had rolled back in his head and he’d started to fall.
Shock hung limp on the faces of the two Mandulus, and before they could react, Seb had landed one punch on each of their weak chins. As their leader had done, they fell like their muscles had failed them.
Seb withdrew from his fighting state to see all three of his antagonisers topple at the same time. Their collective collapse ran a heavy shock through the steel floor.
Now Seb had returned to the normal pace of the canteen, the silence of the place overwhelmed him. Every face looked his way, but the mirth that had previously twisted their features was now gone. Instead, jaws hung loose, eyes spread wide, and gills flared.
Before Seb could say a word, the thwip of a spider gun went off. A second later, the sticky net bound him in a grip that crushed the air from his body and knocked him down. With his arms clamped to his sides, Seb’s head spun as he lay on the floor, smothered by the toxic reek of the glue used on the ropes.
As Seb lay there with his face squished into the cold metal, the vibration of the rush of heavy boots ran through the floor into his cheek. He looked up to see the ship’s security force closing in on him, their blasters raised.
Seb opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, the heavy boot of one of the guards stamped across his chin and turned his lights out.
Chapter 8
The whoosh of The Bandolin’s boosters ran a shudder through the entire ship. So powerful they could have burned a hole through most planets, at present they were being used to slowly lower the massive freighter.
As Seb stood by the ship’s exit with the captain, he looked down at the strange creature. Blue-skinned, the diminutive Barch stared back. At no more than four feet tall, it seemed odd to be subservient to the thing, but Seb had once seen a Barch fight. One of the few creatures he’d battle reluctantly, he’d seen how their wide mouths opened when they were enraged. The small orifice spread to about a foot in diameter and revealed two rows of razor-sharp teeth that could cut diamonds. Sure, Seb would beat one in a fight if he needed to—especially since they’d fixed his broken hand in The Bandolin’s medic bay—but he’d certainly exercise more caution about the fight in the first place. The ship’s captain also had a blaster that looked like it could turn a planet to dust, and he had it trained on Seb.
After a quick glance at the weapon, Seb looked back into the captain’s yellow eyes. “Can I please stay on board for a little longer? Maybe just give me one more chance?”
When the Barch spoke, it showed Seb its strange dialect in how its lips moved. The language chip meant Seb heard every word of it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the unusual shapes and movements the creature pulled with its mouth. “I can’t have you on my ship,” the captain said. “You’re on the bottom rung on The Bandolin and you’re fighting with people well above your station. I know Snart’s a jackass, but one of you has to go, and he’s more important to me than you are. Besides, having a human on board rarely works out, regardless of the tax benefits. Unfortunately, I fear you will forever be reviled because of your species’ legacy. To colonise so many planets has made you plenty of enemies, whether that’s your fault personally or not.”
What an idiot Seb had been! He’d lasted so long putting up with Snart’s nonsense. If he’d held it together long enough to get to a spaceport he knew, he could have left on his own terms. His dad had been right about him being a waste of space driven by his ego. Once again, fighting had gotten him into trouble.
Although the monitors by the door were grainy, they gave a clear picture of the spaceport below. Surrounded by water, it seemed to exist as an island in its own right. The strong sun hit the sea and created a glare on the screen. Without taking his eyes off the images, Seb said, “Well, at least tell me where we are.”
“This is a place called Aloo.”
“And what’s it like?”
As an apology, the captain winced when he pass
ed a credit card to Seb.
A glance down and Seb read the card had three hundred credits on it. He looked back up at the ship’s captain. “What’s this?”
“Your severance package with a month’s extra pay on top. We feel bad about leaving you here, but fighting is—”
“Bad for business. I know.”
When the small Barch stood aside, Seb stared at the teleport hub and his throat dried. After he’d closed his mouth, he gulped. “I have to use that thing?”
“If we land, Seb, it’ll take us twelve hours to refuel and take off again. We can’t waste that time.”
“But forcing me to teleport?”
“You got yourself into this situation.”
For the briefest moment, the world around Seb slowed ever so slightly and the captain’s nose stood more prominent on his face than any other part of him. If Seb could whack the captain before he opened his mouth, he’d knock the little cretin out. Although, what then? He couldn’t fly the ship. Those aboard would overpower him and force him to teleport, and that was the best case. At least now he had a guaranteed safe landing, well, almost guaranteed. With teleporting, nothing could be guaranteed. At least he had a good chance of not dying. A fight with the captain might see Seb victorious, but it would be bound to end with his death when the rest of the ship turned on him.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Seb stepped into the teleport hub. When the curved glass door rolled shut in front of him, it trapped him inside the booth with nothing but his rucksack and the credit card the captain had given him. He and the captain stared at one another, but Seb didn’t plead any more. The cold glare of the Barch told him not to bother.
The Shadow Order - Books 1 - 8 + 120 Seconds (The complete series): A Space Opera Page 4
