Anton's Odyssey (29 page)

The door led down a stairway. The light was dim and the air was stale. In close quarters, with poor ventilation, I finally got a whiff of the boy, and to say he stank was an understatement. He was far worse than my brother on a bad day. I suspected that it had been months since the boy washed his armpits, and I was pretty sure that at some point he suffered through a case of the squirts but never changed his underthings.

We went down, down, down, hundreds of steps. The lights became spaced out further and further apart. It was nearly pitch black in places. At the bottom of the steps was another doorway, also with a jimmied lock.

The boy opened the door. The corridor on the other side had been carved through solid rock. We were about to leave the space station and enter the asteroid itself. A few meters from where we stood, the corridor was pitch black with no light whatsoever. I was overcome with a terrible sense of foreboding.

I grabbed Cotton by the shoulder. “Wait, something’s not right about this place.”

“Naw, it’s cool,” Cotton said.

“No it’s not! Something’s wrong!” I shouted.

“We’ve been worse places than this.” Cotton said.

I thought back to some of the grimiest alleyways in Yucapia’s worst neighborhoods. “No, I don’t think we have, Cotton.”

“Hey, hey,” the smelly boy said, “if you’re afraid of the dark. You can head back. I’ll watch over your friend here.”

“He’s not my friend!” I barked. “He’s my brother!”

“Come on kid.” The boy said to Cotton. “Let’s go find you that skin mag.”

“Comic book,” Cotton said, concerned. “We were going to get Macho Moe, Space Marine #117.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant,” the kid said, “comic book.”

“I don’t know about this.” Cotton said, finally coming around to his senses.

“It’ll be okay.” The grimy boy said, only a bit too forcefully. He reached to take Cotton by the arm, but I slapped his filthy mitt away.

“You better watch yourself punk!” The kid scowled. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“Come on Cotton. Let’s get out of here.” I said.

“Naw, I don’t think so,” said the boy. “The kid’s coming with me.” The boy pulled something from his pocket, and Cotton cried, “Watch out!”

I jerked my head back just in time. The rusty edge of the switchblade missed my chin by less than a millimeter. I countered with a wild right hook, placing all my weight into the swing. My punch found its mark at the side of the boy’s jaw. There was a terrible crunching noise, and the kid went down. On hands and knees, the kid gasped and gagged, spitting out blood along with several of his rotten teeth. “Help!” he cried down the corridor to somebody we couldn’t see, “I got a couple here like you said, but I need some help!”

We heard heavy footsteps, men running toward us through the darkness. The boy tried to get up, but Cotton kicked him hard in the ribs. He collapsed again in the middle of the corridor. We sprinted through the doorway. Up two flights of steps, we heard someone behind us trip over the smelly boy and go down hard.

“Pick your selves up?” said a gruff voice. “What happened?”

Cotton and I weren’t going to stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. We ran as fast as we could. At the top of the stairway, we slammed the door behind us and continued running until we were back on the ship.

“Why are you boys so short of breath?” Mr. Yongscolder demanded in the airlock. “You two have been running from security haven’t you?”

Mr. Yongscolder hardly warranted our attention after what we had just been through. We walked away without giving him a second look.

“You two come back!” he yelled after us. “I’m never going to let you two off the ship again!” And that was fine by us.

When I woke up the top bunk was empty, which was unusual because Cotton usually slept in longer than I did the mornings we didn’t have to go to school. The chase from the day before left me physically and emotionally drained. I could hear Cotton playing video games in the living room, cheering when something went his way, cussing when he got hit or suffered some sort of set back.

“You’re finally up, dopey!” he said as I wandered in.

Still groggy, I merely grunted.

Cotton paused his game. “I have something to show you.” He flicked over to the ship’s announcements.

“Due to recent developments at the Libra Space Station, all leave for officers, able starmen, ordinary starmen, and their families has been cancelled. No persons are permitted to leave the ship for activities other than official ship business.

Charles Pecelschmidt Sr., first mate, on behalf of the captain.”

“I think they’re on to you for stealing those drinks yesterday,” Cotton said.

Unfortunately, I had to agree with Cotton’s assessment. No one was going to care that I thought the price of the sodas was grossly inflated if my actions strained our relationship with the space station or otherwise complicated the repair of the airlock.

“I don’t think they’ve figured out it was me though,” I said. “Otherwise they would have come here by now.”

“True,” Cotton agreed, “but I bet they had cameras all over the place. It’s only a matter of time.”

Cotton’s right!
I thought.
How could I have been so stupid, especially after Allen showed us all that security footage from the day of the accident! Theft! Indirectly causing a disturbance! Contributing to the delinquency of a fellow minor by giving liquor to Hammond! I’m done for!

My stomach rumbled. My guilt subsided as my hunger grew.
I’ll figure something out,
I thought.
Perhaps the security men on the Libra Space Station are as inept as Boldergat was.
“Let’s get breakfast,” I said.

“Good idea.” Cotton switched off the vid.

The mess hall was much more crowded than usual now that people weren’t allowed off the ship. The atmosphere seemed tense, everyone murmuring quietly to one another and only a few people bothered to look up to make eye contact with me.

This is bad!
I thought.
They know it was me!

We found Hammond, Allen, and Ellen sitting near the corner. They had almost finished eating. They, too, seemed tense, barely acknowledging us when we sat down.

Eventually, Allen turned to me and said, “I take it you’ve heard the news?”

I gulped and replied, “kind of.”

“Let’s not discuss it here.” Allen said. “Everyone around us is pretty distressed, and let’s not make things worse. Eat quick and we’ll go back to my place!”

The anxiety was too much to bear. I lost my appetite and only picked at my eggs. Cotton ate
most of my breakfast.

Allen’s uncle was working, so we had his
living unit all to ourselves. “So what do you know about what happened yesterday?” Allen asked. “Other than the ship’s announcement.”

“It was Anton who stole the drinks,” Cotton squeaked. Usually, my brother wasn’t one to snitch, but perhaps Cotton thought that, by confessing for me, Allen could work some computer magic and get me out of trouble before it was too late.

Allen was caught completely off guard. “You stole what now?”

Ellen looked shocked. Hammond roared with laughter and punched me in the shoulder. “I knew it!” he said. “That’s the only way you could have gotten the liquor. And to think you got that guy in the fancy shirt arrested. That’s funny!”

“It’s not funny!” Ellen snapped. “He could go to jail for a crime he never committed.”

“I doubt it!” Allen said. “They probably just kicked him off the space station and told him never to come back.”

“That’s still pretty bad,” Ellen said.

Near the end of his patience, Allen sighed. “Let’s just stick to the problem at hand.”

“You mean this has nothing to do with Anton stealing?” Cotton asked.

“Oh no,” Allen said gravely. “After the events of last night, I doubt anyone cares about a few stolen drinks.”

“What did happen last night?” I asked.

Allen had our undivided attention. He explained how, last night, he had hacked into Command Central to amuse himself, and he noticed a sizeable wireless money transfer from Heavy Industries General LLC’s bank in Iowa City, seventy million dollars to be exact.
Allen found the transition peculiar because the funds were not tied directly to the ship, nor were they allocated for repairs or paid to any entity on the Libra Space Station. Rather, the funds went to a bank on a very shady space station near the Orion Star System. The station was quite infamous for its lawlessness and complicity for harboring crime lords and other fugitives. Allen used the cameras of the ship’s security system to eavesdrop on our senior officers and eventually figured out what had happened.

“Somehow yesterday evening, Charlie, Mike and Jeff got lured away from the space station into the asteroid. In the dark they got jumped by goons. Jeff ran to safety, but Charlie and Mike got hoodwinked and hauled away. Within a few hours, Charlie’s dad and Mike’s mom both received separate personal messages. I guess the goons didn’t have to try real hard to get contact information from their hostages. In each message
was a pic for proof of life and a demand for ransom. Some officers wanted to mount an armed response, but Charlie’s dad said it was too risky, explaining that the boys could get hit in the crossfire and killed. Also, they had no idea how to navigate the asteroid and could easily walk into an ambush. They turned to security staff on the Libra Space Station for help, but the station administrator said the asteroid itself was beyond his jurisdiction and refused to help.

“As a senior officer, the first mate’s got a pretty generous abduction insurance policy for himself and his family, with only a one million dollar
deductible and a ten percent co-pay. So Charlie’s dad contacted his agent; they sent the money, and abracadabra, Charlie turns up near a door at the back of the space station, bound, gagged, and hoodwinked.”

“Wait,” I said in disbelief, “you mean Charlie’s dad paid the entire ransom without negotiating? What a complete bonehead!”

“It’s his son!” Ellen cried. “I am sure he felt no amount of money is worth jeopardizing his safety.”

“Yes,” I said, “but you’d expect someone as senior as the first mate to use his head. You cave in like that, you show weakness, and the goons will take advantage of you.”

“He’s right.” Allen said. “As soon as Charlie appeared, Mike’s ransom went up to one-hundred and forty million. It took the officers and me completely by surprise. How did you know that was going to happen?”

“I guess I just know how to think like a goon.” I said.

“Why did the money go to another space station?” Hammond asked.

“I’m not exactly sure.” Allen replied.

“My guess is that the goons here are part of some sort of interstellar organized crime syndicate.” I explained. “You can think of their location here as a franchise, just like the Bruno Burger.”

“Mike’s parents don’t have abduction insurance.” Allen said. “Even if they get generous donations from every person on this ship, it’s unlikely they’ll be able to raise the ransom money.” No doubt Allen had actually done the math. “The ship is still scheduled to leave in three days.”

“You mean that’s it!” I protested. “We’re just going to take off and leave Mike in the hands of the goons!”

“Yes,” Allen said gravely, “that appears to be the situation.”

We were silent for a while. No one in the room particularly liked Mike. He was a complete jackass, but he had not done anything bad enough to deserve his inevitable abandonment.

Cotton piped up first. “Was it a dirty boy with missing teeth that lured them into the asteroid?”

Allen frowned. “What are you talking about exactly?”

We told our friends about the smelly kid, and how he tried to lure us into a trap.

“I’m glad you punched his teeth out,” Hammond said.

“Wait,” Allen said with a hint of anger, “why didn’t you report this to the authorities on the space station.”

Back home, reporting crimes got you knifed when the offending goons found out you snitched. Obviously, I would be safe aboard our ship, but apparently old habits die hard. I didn’t have a good answer for Allen, so I made one up. “Based on what the tour guide from the cruise liner had said, it seemed like the space station was already aware of the problem but wasn’t in a position to do anything about it until they got the go ahead from the international courts.”

Allen sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s not like the space station is really helping us much right now anyway. Next time something like this
happens, you should report it.”

No one said anything for a while. We just sat in Allen’s bedroom for what seemed like an hour, doing
little more than looking grim. As the silence continued, I was overcome with an ever-growing sense of urgency. Finally, I couldn’t contain it anymore and blurted out, “We have to get Mike back!”

Allen looked puzzled. “I’m surprised you of all people feel so strongly.”

“Why’s that?” I said, irritated.

“Just a few months ago, you guys got into a pretty vicious fight.”

I thought through my next words carefully. It took me a while to figure out how to vocalize a type of ghetto sentiment that Ellen and Allen might understand.

“Mike’s a complete jackass,” I said. “No one here would dispute that. But what bothers me is that, deep down, he’s not fundamentally different than Cotton and I. Mike co
mes from a similar background as us. Back home, we could be jackasses too, though not nearly as bad as Mike. Charlie is probably an even bigger jackass than Mike because he acts maliciously but gets others to do his dirty work. Charlie gets to go home, not because he’s a better person than Mike, but because his father has status and influence. For Charlie, his abduction will eventually become nothing more than a bad memory.

“Mike’s situation is completely different. Once his captors find out our ship is scheduled to leave soon, they might send over parts of Mike, perhaps a finger or an ear, to try to motivate his parents to pay up.”

Ellen gasped at the thought of Mike being dismembered. Allen grimaced uncomfortably. Hammond remained silent, looking ever somber.

“Let’s suppose the goons don’t cut Mike up,” I continued. “No one’s going to pay his ransom.
Best-case scenario, they don’t kill him, but we will still abandon him on the space station. Back home things could be pretty rough, and I imagine it was the same where Mike’s from. But there,” I gestured to a direction I thought was portside to indicate the space station, “there’s no school for him to attend. There are no cops to break up the fights he’s going to get into. There are no social workers to check up on him to make sure he has good food to eat and that he brushes his teeth. From what I’ve seen, I doubt Mike is smart enough to escape. No ship is obligated to take him on, and he doesn’t exactly possess any marketable skills that would help him become a starman. If he’s lucky his captors might keep him on as a petty goon like that smelly kid I beat up yesterday, but Mike won’t rise up the ranks in organized crime. Sure he’s tough, but he doesn’t think things through. Eventually some other goon is going to stick a knife in his back and kill him.”

Somehow what I said must have moved the others because they were all staring at me. I could tell that Cotton wasn’t even thinking about food.

“I agree with you one hundred percent,” Allen said, “but there’s nothing we can do. It’s not like we can get Cotton to sneak up and rescue Mike through the ventilation ducts. The situation is entirely different than anything we’ve encountered in the past and much more dangerous.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “We can’t venture into the asteroid, but she can.” I said, nodding in the direction Allen’s closet. Ellen sat
next to the closet door, which created some confusion.

“Me?” Ellen said
both shocked and surprised.

“Are you
nuts!” Hammond cried. “We can’t send Ellen!”

“Yes,” Allen agreed, “it’s much too dangerous for any of us down there.”

“No!” I countered, opening Allen’s closet. Buried under his dirty clothes I found what I was looking for and pulled out the ho-bot. “We send her!”

The others looked confused. Allen figured it out first and smiled. “Yes,” he said, “I understand your plan completely.”