Every time Seb came up to the surface, the motion of the waves made him dizzy as he rocked with them in the constantly shifting environment.
Now Seb had had a few minutes to calm down, he turned to Sparks, who looked out over the sea. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just can’t control my temper sometimes.”
Sparks pulled her razor-sharp bob from her face with one of her long fingers and remained deadpan. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Seb couldn’t help but smile.
“Look, I understand why you feel how you do. It’s rubbish that we’re not getting the simulations nailed—”
“I’m not getting them nailed, Sparks,” Seb interrupted.
“We’re a team. I take the hit with you. I may not get the dressing down that you do, but I feel the loss heavily too.”
The salt-sting in Seb’s eyes burned stronger when the clouds parted and the sun’s glare dazzled him. It bounced off the vast expanse of water as if it were a huge mirror.
“We just need to practice more,” Sparks said. “We’ll get there.”
“We’d best do. I think Moses will send us on a mission soon.”
“Look,” Sparks said, “I know you probably don’t feel like going back down below for a while, but it won’t get any easier. In fact, it’ll only get harder the longer you stay away from everyone else. At least if we go back now, we can get some food in the canteen.”
Sparks tugged on Seb’s arm as she moved back toward the elevator in the centre of the platform.
Reluctant at first, Seb gave in and followed her.
Chapter 6
The elevator reacted to Seb and Sparks’ close proximity to it by rising from the flat platform with a gentle whir and opening its doors. Seb watched Sparks enter, but he remained still. Rocked on the balls of his feet by the elements, his eyes still stinging, and the taste of salt drying his mouth, he watched the tiny Sparks stare back at him with her hands on her hips. He drew a deep sigh. Although he wanted to remain up top a little longer, it wouldn’t be worth the hassle she’d undoubtedly give him. He followed her into the small elevator.
After the doors closed, Seb looked around the tight chrome space, the smell of disinfectant in the air. “Do you think the elevator is this size for a reason? Or do you think they built it and then realised they’d excluded all of the larger species from joining the Shadow Order simply by restricting their access to the base?”
Sparks clicked her tongue and looked around the inside of the elevator too. “Well, I suppose you have to make a decision on size at some point. And even if some of the bigger species could get down into the base, they wouldn’t be able to pilot any of the ships because they wouldn’t fit in them. If you want an organisation built on espionage, I don’t suppose a large lumbering Walldat would be much use anyway.”
It made sense.
Sparks ruffled her nose. “They should consider themselves lucky they don’t have to cope with this smell too.”
“I asked Moses why the lift always stank,” Seb said.
“And?”
“The elevator cleans itself when it can. Because it has to open up to the elements of Aloo whenever it goes up top, it self-cleans when it closes. It washes away all the salt so it doesn’t corrode over time.”
The description seemed to bore Sparks, who looked like she’d switched off to Seb’s explanation. After he’d pulled his sodden hair from his eyes, he looked at his quiet friend. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Sparks asked, a deep frown hooding her purple eyes.
While clicking his fingers at her as if to get her attention, he said, “Aloo calling Sparks, come in, Sparks.”
After a shake of her head, a touch of clarity returned to Sparks’ eyes. “You weren’t the only one of our team who found the simulator hard.”
“No, but I was the one who messed it up.”
“I nearly did too.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better, Sparks.”
“I’m not, trust me. Moses noticed it, and I think you would have were you not so involved in the escape.”
Although Seb cast his mind back and he remembered Moses saying something to Sparks, he couldn’t recall what exactly. So ashamed of his performance, he’d found himself lost in his own hole of negativity.
“The ship,” Sparks said. “I nearly crashed the ship.”
“But that was you getting the hang of the controls.”
“I had the hang of the controls. I can fly most things with my eyes closed. It wasn’t that, it was the fire.”
The lift continued to plunge down into the Shadow Order’s base. It ran deep to get to the bottom of the ocean. Seb’s heart fluttered and his chest tightened as if he could feel the vast pressure of water that pushed against the base’s outer frame. One weak spot anywhere and … He shoved the thought to the back of his mind and returned to the memory of the simulator, drawing a blank. “What fire?”
“Do you remember shooting the barrels of rocket fuel?”
“Ah! Of course, that fire.”
“I hate fire.” Sparks’ eyes—magnified by her glasses—spread wide. “Why do you think I ran when the balrog chased us?”
“Uh … because a balrog was chasing us.”
“Fair point. But it’s more than that. When I was on Thryst, I was caught in a house fire. One of the few times I’d made a friend on that cursed planet, the two of us ended up trapped in the attic of a shop. Amelia was younger than me by a few years and she looked up to me. I befriended her because I found her on the streets trying to survive like I had. She needed some guidance. An orphan at a young age, she recognised she’d be better trying her luck on the streets than trusting the authorities.”
As Seb took in the distant look in Sparks’ eyes, his mouth hung open and his breathing slowed down to an almost halt. “So what happened?”
“One of the beams in the attic dropped between us. It was burning white hot within seconds. I couldn’t do anything about it. Even if it weren’t on fire, I didn’t have the strength to lift it, and there wasn’t the space to get past it. We stared at one another for a few seconds before she threw her computer to me.” At that moment, glassy-eyed with grief and slightly lost in her tale, Sparks held her computer up. “Amelia taught me everything I know about hacking and programming. Not only did she give me permission to leave her that day, but she also gave me the ability to thrive in this universe. The only window out of the attic was on my side, so I climbed out of it. The second I got out onto the roof, it sounded like the flames got her. She screamed like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It was a primal noise as if demons had possessed her. By the time I’d made it down to the street, her screaming had stopped. Thick dark smoke billowed out of the window I’d escaped from, and I swear I could smell her burned flesh.”
It felt strange to comfort his small friend because they didn’t have that kind of relationship, but Seb put a hand on Sparks’ slim shoulder anyway. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I waited a few blocks away and listened to the fire ships arrive to put the fire out. Amelia’s last words to me were ‘Go, and don’t let them catch you’. With no chance of saving her, she wanted to make sure I got far away so I didn’t get taken in by the authorities.”
Seb exhaled hard, deflating as he considered Sparks’ loss.
“Anyway,” Sparks said, “fire freaks me out.”
“I think it would freak me out too if I had witnessed that.”
“And Moses saw that in the simulation,” Sparks said. “He may not have said it, but he saw it. It was lucky I managed to hold it together.”
“I don’t think it’s luck.” Seb pulled her into him in a one-armed hug. “I think you’re a tough cookie. You have one of the most level heads I’ve ever come across, you’re super smart, and you’re brave.”
Stepping out of her memories, Sparks’ purple eyes cleared and she stared up at Seb. “Thank you.”
Seb dipped a nod at her.
“It’s ha
ppening again, you know? Despite me promising myself it wouldn’t.”
Although Seb waited for Sparks to elaborate, she didn’t. “What’s happening again?”
“You’re making me like you. Since Amelia died, I promised myself I would never befriend anyone else. Friendships are too painful and I don’t want to be vulnerable like that again. But you’ve broken through.”
After she punched him on the arm, hard enough for it to sting, the tiny Sparks scowled at Seb. “You’d best not bloody die on me now.”
“I’ll try not to.”
When the lift stopped, Sparks removed her glasses, wiped her eyes, and drew a deep breath.
The doors opened and Seb stared out into the hallway in front of them. From where he stood, he could see the hangar with the simulators and his pulse quickened.
“Just keep your head, okay?” Sparks said. “It doesn’t matter what Gurt says, just try to remember he wants to wind you up.”
A glance down at Sparks, and Seb pulled his shoulders back. “Thanks for coming up after me. I needed it.”
Sparks smiled and said, “I know,” before she stepped out of the elevator.
Chapter 7
Unlike the canteen on The Bandolin, the Shadow Order’s canteen got cleaned regularly, had a fraction of the people in it, and served amazing food. Seb stood in line with Sparks, ignored the people around him, and focused on the menu. Pasta bake, roast dinner, curried snarch … thankfully they didn’t have sea slug on the list. Just the thought of it threatened to send a heave through his stomach.
At the front of the queue, Seb’s mouth watered at the sight of the slabs of raw zubber steak. Every other option ceased to exist. He pointed at one and smiled at the chef—a dirty-looking female with a huge stubbled chin—giddy in anticipation of his lunch. “Can I have one of them, please?”
“Bloody, burned, or cremated?” she asked. Her girth stretched wider than her height, and she had three eyes in her fat face. Each one assessed Seb with impatience.
“Bloody.”
The chef nodded, picked the meat up in a pair of tongs, and dropped it on the griddle behind her. Flames rose up and the fat hissed. The air filled with the rich smell of cooking meat.
Sparks opted for fish with grains, which the chef also threw on the griddle.
Like The Bandolin, the Shadow Order’s canteen had been arranged with benches that stretched across the room. The most efficient way to utilise the space, the long rows ran through it in neat lines.
One half of the canteen got used by the R and D guys, while the fighters took the other half. The fighters’ section rotated often. Sometimes it would be fairly busy, while at others, there didn’t seem to be many people there at all. Probably out on missions … or dead.
As Seb took in the place, he did his best to ignore Gurt’s watchful eye, but, inevitably, he met the stare of the Mandulu.
“Just ignore him,” Sparks said, speaking from the side of her mouth.
“He’s such a smug git though.”
“And you think you can change that?”
Seb didn’t reply. Instead, he looked at SA. Although she sat with Gurt, the serene assassin seemed more occupied with her lunch than Gurt’s bullshit. As she chewed her food—her delicate mouth closed and barely moving—Seb sighed. The woman even ate gracefully.
She looked up and Seb nearly looked away, but instead he stared back at her and fought to banish the scowl Gurt had put on his face. Her bioluminescent blue eyes drank him in and her expression changed ever so subtly, almost as if to smile, or at least to think about it.
Seb nearly smiled back until Sparks shoved him and broke him from his trance. When he looked at his friend, she pointed at the angry chef, who held a plate toward him. Heat flushed his cheeks as he took it and said, “Sorry. Thank you.”
The chef had taken the liberty of plating his steak with fried slices of a root vegetable called fairy knuckle squash. They served them often in the canteen. Unlike more traditional root vegetable chips, they seemed to get crispier than most on the outside and as fluffy as a cloud in the middle.
While Seb waited for Sparks to take her lunch, he picked up a tray for each of them, handed one to Sparks, and they both walked over to the benches to sit down to eat.
Of course, they had to pass Gurt on their way to their seat. A glow ran through the Mandulu’s red eyes and a wide grin spread across his bulbous jaw. His overbite pushed his broken horns up over his leathery top lip. “Careful, SA,” Gurt said to the yellow-skinned assassin, “if he thinks you’ve got a gun, he might panic and drop his lunch.”
Sat with a board-straight back, SA didn’t reply. But then, she never replied. Not that it stopped Gurt’s loud guffawing; the idiot found his own jokes so funny he didn’t need anyone else’s approval. Despite the urge to smash his tray over Gurt’s fat head, Seb resisted as he continued past him and the beautiful assassin.
Seb lifted a chip from his plate and chewed on it. The perfect mix of a little bit of salt, a crusty outer edge, and a fluffy centre made his mouth water. “How does the chef do it every time?” he asked Sparks.
Before Sparks could reply, a big, thick tree trunk of a leg shot out in front of Seb and he tripped over it. Everything flipped into slow motion, and although he didn’t fall, he watched his tray fly through the air, the plate lift from the tray, and all of his food lift from the plate. As the steak took on its own trajectory, his heart sank.
Before his dinner had crashed to the floor, Seb turned to Gurt and threw his arms wide.
The large Mandulu—still in slow motion—got to his feet as the tray smashed down. Although Gurt’s chin stood prominent in Seb’s vision, he got distracted by a weak spot on the Mandulu’s right knee. It had to be a hidden injury. It looked like it wouldn’t take much to ruin it for good.
Seb returned his attention to the Gurt’s chin. Best to knock the fool out than to paralyse him permanently, regardless of how much he hated him.
With more time to think than anyone else, Seb looked at the people in the canteen. Most of the R and D department seemed to be taking their break at that point, and—like the other staff and the few Shadow Order recruits there—they all looked at Seb and Gurt.
Despite taking deep breaths, Seb couldn’t calm his pulse. It boomed as a wet swell through his temples. Fists curled into balls and his jaw locked tight, he readied himself to swing for his nemesis.
Just before he attacked Gurt, Seb caught the blue flash of Sparks’ taser. When he looked down at his small friend, he saw her standing with the plastic device in her hand and one eyebrow raised. She’d use it on him if she had to. Anything to make sure he didn’t fight Gurt.
The world instantly returned to a normal speed and Seb stepped away. Another look at those in the canteen and one final glance at SA, and he shook his head. “You’re a waste of space.”
“A waste of space would be someone working for an intergalactic team that couldn’t shoot straight in a dogfight. Oh … wait …”
The sides of Seb’s vision blurred again and his heart raced. He forced away the slowing down of his world and walked past both his spilled dinner and the arrogant Mandulu. It took all he had to refrain from kicking his weak knee and putting the dumb creature out of the Shadow Order for good.
Although Seb didn’t look around, he recognised the only sound in the silence as the gentle tap of Sparks’ footsteps as she followed him out of the canteen.
Chapter 8
Seb stepped into his cubed room and shivered. He couldn’t ever find comfort in the small space. Tracks ran along the plain chrome walls to allow the room to form into several different arrangements. A panel had been screwed into the wall opposite the door. Covered in buttons and lights, it glowed different colours in response to different requests.
Because of the sparseness of the small room, the sound of Seb’s boots echoed in the hard and empty space as he strode over to the buttons. A large green one read ‘Living Room’ on its plastic front, so he pressed it. A c
ircle had been marked on the floor, which Seb currently stood in. Sparks ran over to join him. As soon as she stepped into it, the entire panel turned red to indicate they shouldn’t move. Whirs and clicks sounded out and the room came to life. As long as they remained within the circle, it would transform without any problems.
First, a gap opened up in the wall opposite them and a three-seater sofa slid out. Then, a panel glided across another wall to reveal a large-screen television. Next, two small tables rose from the floor on either side of the sofa. Each had a lamp turned down low. A rug fell from the ceiling, blew out a gust of wind as it dropped, and landed perfectly in the centre of the room with a loud plop. Finally, the lighting dipped to suit the ambiance of the space.
Once the setup had been completed, the red glow to the panel of buttons turned green, allowing Seb and Sparks to exit the circle. They both walked straight to the soft sofa and fell onto it.
As Seb sank into the comfy cushions, he stared straight ahead. A music video played out on the television. The singer—a female with what looked like large flaccid horns hanging down either side of her head all the way to her shoulders—pranced about like a pony as she sang. “What planet is she from?” he asked.
Sparks continued to watch the screen and offered him a lethargic shrug. She then turned to look at him. “You did well to walk away from the canteen.”
Just the mention of the canteen increased Seb’s pulse. “What? I would have done well to knock Gurt out. But you didn’t give me that choice, did you?”
“If you’d have done that, you’d be kicked out of this program. They’d send you back to The Black Hole. Gurt wants you to lose your temper. If you didn’t threaten him so much, then maybe he wouldn’t give a damn. Whatever it is you have, it rattles him.”
With his attention still on the screen, Seb said, “I’ve always fought since I was a little kid.”
The Shadow Order - Books 1 - 8 + 120 Seconds (The complete series): A Space Opera Page 20
