Page 43 of Auctioned to the Convicts
“I have to go. The transport’s here.”
He glanced up for the first time. A dozen men were watching them, more precisely Hannah. He didn’t like the envious looks on their faces, not at all. Suddenly, the thought of her being alone, unprotected on a railcar, with all those men worried him. His Hannah was precious, more than he had ever realized, and he was letting her walk off into a crowd of men—men who had access to everything they needed on Narkos—except women.
* * *
HANNAH
Of all the crappy luck. The only spot left on the railcar was an empty seat between Max and Donovan. They had the task of weighing and entering into the system all the zurlite that arrived at the port for export.
Both men were as large as any of the miners she’d seen to date, and they’d have to be considering the strength it took to help guide the zurlite loads to empty into the shipment pods at the correct angle or the pods could be damaged and rendered useless. The cranes were great for lifting the carts, but human hand-eye coordination was needed to fill the pods.
A ship that left without a full complement of pods cost The Company, which in turn meant Dresden wasn’t happy. As on every other planet, rayka poop rolled downhill. On Narkos, it not only rolled downhill but got thrown in every direction, namely at whichever worker was within striking distance.
Conway had assigned extra shifts to everyone who had been on duty during last week’s mishap. That had been during her second day of work. She hadn’t even been in the loading bay when Donovan had slammed the cart into the pod, damaging both the cart and the pod.
She hoped this week would go more smoothly. The railcar shook as it always did at the split in the tracks. She could swear Donovan used the shaking as an excuse to press up against her thigh. What an ass.
Hannah kept her eyes forward, ignoring Donovan the best she could. She hoped Sersie would be home when she got there. Her talk with him had left her hopeful that their unit would work out. She hadn’t seen much of any of the men in her unit given all the extra shifts she’d picked up to help cover Sersie’s quota as well as the extras Conway had tacked on thanks to Donovan’s mishap.
Sersie was playful and caring, and she looked forward to spending more time with him, getting to know him. She still didn’t understand why he’d used Flight last week. Ren had blamed her, and she feared he was right. Her presence had upset the balance in Sersie’s life.
At least Sersie was well now, and more importantly, talking with her, not just to her. They could work on this together, and hopefully, he wouldn’t end up like Amelia.
Hannah smiled as she thought of Sersie’s smile and the warmth of that kiss.
Max’s hand landed on Hannah’s knee, tearing her thoughts from Sersie. With her eyes trained forward, at Harpal’s back, she pushed Max’s hand off of her.
“You sleeping with all of them or just the chemist?” Max said as he leaned in so close that his beard scratched her neck. She leaned forward to move away from him, but that only left him room to put his arm around her.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, her voice as hard as steel.
“That’s right, Max. She’s got a soldier doing her,” Donovan piped up on to her right. “You don’t want to mess with that. Might find yourself murdered in your sleep.”
Max’s hand moved further up her leg, under her dress. Hannah sprang to her feet and pushed past Harpal.
“Watch it!” Harpal snapped.
She ignored him and the other men complaining as she pushed her way through to the door. The journey to the port by railcar was a mere five minutes, but it felt like hours before the doors finally sprang open. She shot out, ran up the hill and skirted through the employee entrance to the port, ignoring the men who shouted at her to wait in line.
There was no HR representative here that she could complain to about Max. This was a prison world, after all, not Argus. Dresden employed security to protect The Company’s resources, but no one to advocate on behalf of the workers. Level 4s and 5s didn’t have the same rights as 1s, 2s, or 3s. Conway ran the port, and Dresden ran Conway. End of story.
The rest of Hannah’s day went fairly smoothly, with only one pod dented but not rendered inoperable during the loading. She reconciled the weights of the zurlite loaded compared to what the mine manager reports indicated.
Conway attributed the discrepancy to inaccuracies at the mines, stating that the weights at the miners’ end needed to be calibrated and that wasn’t due for another two years. He told her to ignore the weights submitted by the mine manager and rely on the scales port side. There was no need to reconcile the numbers. It made sense. The equipment at the port needed to be precise, down to the pound, to ensure correct calculations for how many fuel cells a ship needed to engage for takeoff.
After she finished her regular duties, Hannah reported to the crane tower for basic training in how to handle a crane, in case she ever needed to fill in for one of the crane operators. Conway wanted his workers well-versed on all the equipment in case a worker failed to show for work. He certainly didn’t care that he held her two hours past the end of her shift.
As she sat at the controls to the crane, reading through the procedures manual, the door opened and clicked shut.
“I see you’re settling in, Raines,” boomed a voice that made Hannah’s skin crawl.
“Manager,” she greeted politely, only now realizing that Conway and the other trainee, Quinn, had disappeared, leaving her alone with Dresden.
The colony manager stood behind her and peered down the slightly gaping top of her dress. She would have risen, except Dresden wouldn’t back up to give her room. Instead, he leaned over her, placed his head up against hers, and let his foul breath wash over her. “Have you fucked them all yet, Raines?”
Hannah stared ahead at the computer screen. Dresden’s hand trailed down her front, squeezing a breast.
“What do you want, Manager Dresden?” she forced the words out, afraid to move, afraid to anger him.
