Page 84 of Mutant Mine

I can tell from their breathing that they are asleep, but not unconscious. The alcohol in their bloodstreams may work in our favor, but we will still need to tread carefully here so that we do not wake them.

I look meaningfully back at the crew’s anxious faces, then point at the corridor ahead. There is no other way to go except onwards.

First, I step over the man on the floor myself. Rory follows me, then, one by one, the rest of the crew. He is right in the middle of the corridor, so there is no way through except to step directly over him, as carefully as possible.

Finally, it is the turn of Rory’s old bunkmates. The toothless one named Tommy is supporting the other, Ellis, as he limps on an injured leg.

I hold my breath.

Tommy climbs over the man’s legs first, then reaches back for Ellis, holding out a supportive hand. Ellis gets one foot over, and is just making the second step — they have almost made it — when Ellis stumbles. He drops the stun-gun that he was holding in his free hand. It hits the floor with a dullthud.

The man on the floor wakes up.

We all freeze as he squints, groans, then opens his eyes — and sees us.

There is a suspended moment as we all stare at each other. The man takes us in: a whole group of us, standing over him.The crew all clutching weapons. Me in the lead, with blood on my knuckles.

Confusion and fear flicker across the man’s face. I do not know what he thinks is happening, but he must know that it cannot end well for him. He widens his eyes, fills his lungs with a gasp of air, and prepares to scream.

In a split second, the whole catastrophe is unfolding in my mind. There are drunk men in the room behind us. They will be braver and wilder thanks to the alcohol — and there are many more of them than the five I just took down.

We are armed and they are not, so collectively, we can take them — but it will not be easy. We may lose some of the crew in the struggle. And here, surrounded by sleeping prisoners, the resulting noise will only draw more, and more, and more.

It will be bad. But I can do it. I will do whatever it takes. I am already tensing, bracing my muscles for the fight — positioning myself ready to push Rory behind me and keep her there at all costs —

Of all people, it is Rory’s skinny, toothless bunkmate Tommy who steps forward and shoves his stun-gun decisively into the man’s belly.

With only a quiet gurgle, the man arches and jolts as the electric shock runs through him, and then collapses back down into unconsciousness.

Tommy looks stunned himself, as if he cannot believe what he has done. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze hard in thanks, while Rory laughs silently and mimes giving him a high five.

We move on.

It does not take long for us to reach the landing dock. The doors slide closed behind us.

“Computer, engage maximum security lock on the doors,” I command at once.

“THE LANDING DOCK IS SECURED,” the computer says.

We are safe. Rory is safe. Her hand is in mine again, grasping for contact. I need it too.

“Thank god for that,” says Reginald.

I agree.

All of us exhale with relief, then turn to look around us — just in time to see the shuttle flying in to land.

40

Rory

UNCERTAINTY CREEPSup on me as we watch the shuttle descend onto the landing pad. I feel small and scruffy at Roth’s side. Who am I? An orphan that he’s picked up somewhere on his long journey, dressed like a boy, bringing nothing with me except the clothes on my back and a stolen toy. Worse than that, I’m a prison guard — someone who his ‘brothers’, as he calls them, have a lot of good reasons to hate.

I pick at my fingers nervously. Roth did warn them that he would have other passengers with him, but I can’t be what they were picturing.

We’re in a glass chamber at the front of the landing dock. Ahead of us, behind an air-locked door, is the dock itself: a landing pad at the bottom of a huge, circular hole in the ship’s hull, opening up into space.

The shuttle sinks down through the gap silently, like an enormous hovering insect. As soon as it settles on the pad, two vast metal doors slide closed in the hull overhead, sealing the dock against the black vacuum of space. With a hiss, the landing dock re-pressurizes and fills with fresh, oxygenated air. A pulse moves through the room as the computer applies the artificial gravity field.

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