Page 43 of Seven Oars
“Not surprising,” Gro said. “No one around here has ever heard of sanitation.”
Eze and Gro shared a weak smile, a glimmer of their usual fire-cracking banter.
Alyesha took control. “Spa time has to wait. While we can, let’s go find out the layout of this place. Where they sleep, where the controls are. We won’t escape by sitting here peeing in a bucket.”
“I pooped!” Daphne announced, oblivious to Alyesha’s scowl.
In the end, Fawn and Anske stayed behind to keep an eye on Daphne, both still unwell from their ordeal in the Habitat.
Sassa flatly refused to leave her corner.
So it was Rosamma and Alyesha who tiptoed out of the Cargo Hold and veered left, while Eze and Gro, the other branch of their recon party, headed right.
Venturing out of the Cargo Hold, itself far from a sanctuary, made sweat break out along Rosamma’s back, despite the refrigerator-like temperatures of the station.
“That’s the Habitat,” Rosamma whispered as they approached its entrance.
“I know,” Alyesha whispered back. “We should’ve explored it when we picked up the food. Let’s go in and take another look.”
“Okay,” Rosamma said.
It wasn’t okay. It was agonizing.
Still, she doggedly followed Alyesha, gripping her braid in both hands.
A quick peek through the open hatch revealed the Habitat was empty.
The Striker’s chair sat on its dais.
Rosamma couldn’t suppress a deep shudder.
“How can anyone sit in this? It’s made from a person’s skin. There are tattoos.”
Alyesha did a double-take. “Probably just some alien’s skin.”
The Habitat yielded nothing useful. It contained signs of equipment having been mounted along the walls, now long gone.
All was quiet, as much as a space station can be quiet. It hummed and purred deep inside, a living beast. The machinery working beneath the surface of the Habitat sounded similar to that of the Cargo Hold, but not quite the same. Its great millstones ground and grated with a slightly different, unique tone.
They left the Habitat and continued down the passageway until they reached another opening, a large area, dirty, with trash scattered around. The same padded, brown-gray walls and mesh floor surrounded them.
The back wall featured a neat row of openings, each covered with a soft, padded flap.
Alyesha reared back, bumping into Rosamma.
“They sleep here!” she whispered. “It’s their private quarters. Good to know, but I’m not going in.”
Heart in her throat, Rosamma hurried after her quick-moving partner. Her feet tangled, and she nearly went down, saved only by bumping into Alyesha’s back. Alyesha turned to glare at her mouthedSorry.
They approached the last door in the passageway and stopped, listening.
There were voices. Men speaking.The pirates.
Alyesha shook her head silently, her face mirroring Rosamma’s unease. Too high a risk. They should return to the Cargo Hold while the coast was clear.
We’ve got to know what this room is!Rosamma wanted to say.
Ignoring Alyesha’s pointed glare, she hugged the wall and eased one eye around the hatch.
