The Betwixt Book One (3 page)

‘
Okay, you can stop talking,’ he put up a hand like he was
stopping hover traffic, ‘your record wasn't flagged
anyway.’

I was flustered and very nearly out of breath.
‘I . . . sorry, you what? You've already had a
chance to look at my identity file?’

‘
I had it uploaded to my com-piece,’ he tapped his ear. ‘There
was only one registered ‘Mini’ on this space station.’

I swallowed carefully, the kind of move where your tongue
suddenly feels like it's been puffed full of air and the only thing
that can save you is a last ditch gulp.

Perhaps this was how all GAM commanders worked, I'd never had
more to do with them than taking their orders, after all. Quick,
efficient, and lethal. And I was starting to wonder if this guy
ever smiled. Claudia was right, he was dashing, though she wouldn't
phrase it that way. But he was so weary looking at the same time –
he looked like the weight of the galaxy had rested on his shoulders
and it was drawing him thin.

Still, right now I wanted to be everywhere that wasn't right
here by his side marching towards the Med Bay.

‘
There's nothing on your file to suggest this attack was
anything other than unprovoked.’

I nodded. Of course, it wasn't anything other than
‘unprovoked’, why would he expect more? Maybe it was part of being
a GAM commander. Maybe he was used to seeing the violent, the
dangerous, and the unexpected. But this wasn't the Rim, and this
was just little old me. I wasn't going to say anything, but my
curiosity eventually got the better of me. ‘Of
course . . . why would it be anything else? This is
just a little space station in colony-sp—’

We had reached the Med Bay doors, and he paused as the doors
swished open before us. ‘These are strange times.’ His voice wasn't
ominous, wasn't even the least bit deep and dramatic. But he looked
around – eyes flicking from side to side as he spoke – and that was
more telling than a foreboding clap of thunder. Then he looked
right at me and offered that same half-smile that pushed up just
one cheek. ‘Here you are.’

I have a personal philosophy, one I've always lived by - it's
what's between what people say that really matters. And I suddenly
realized why the Commander was so tired – that wasn't a throw away
comment, these really were strange times for him.

It took me another moment to realize he was leaving though.
‘You aren't going to escort me in? Aren't you worried I'll just
leave by the back exit, or collapse from my injuries right here at
the door?’ Had he honestly just marched me all the way across the
Service Deck to ditch me at the door?

‘
You aren't injured, Mini. But security regulation states you
still have to undergo a medical scan to record details for legal
and insurance purposes, especially when it involves an off-duty GAM
officer. The sooner after an incident occurs, the better. And I
wasn't about to trust Station Security to remember. The sooner the
details are fully recorded, the sooner I can notify my superiors
and go back to work.’

Oh. Oh, of course. This never had anything to do with me. I
hadn't even though of that - the GAM were notorious for their
strict rules and bureaucracy. I often heard the soldiers
complaining about it over their Knuckle Dragger cocktails. The
Commander had broken up a fight while off duty – lord knows the
amount of forms he'd have to fill before he could resume post
again. It was a wonder the GAM could even function with the amount
of paper work that preceded and followed their every move. And
maybe that was the weight on the Commander's shoulders, a weight I
had just added to.

I was starting to feel very foolish indeed.

I returned his smile in a half-hearted way, arms straight, and
hands clasped before me like a misbehaving child.

And it was this, of all things, that finally made the other
side of Commander Jason Cole's mouth smile. The lines disappeared
from under his eyes as his cheeks lifted up. ‘You can relax, I'm
not going to arrest you.’

I instantly unclasped my hands and then, not sure of what else
to do with them, clasped them behind my back instead. ‘Thank you so
much for helping me, sir'. Then I spun on my heel and straight into
the door, which had apparently closed during our conversation. I
spluttered slightly, even mumbled 'sorry' to the door, but finally
made it through.

I caught a look at the Commander shaking his head as he turned
to walk away. That was the usual impression I gave
people.

I was clumsy, awkward, chronically unsure of myself, and
easily frightened. But at least I always tried to be polite and
kind. Marty said good manners were one of the rarest things in the
universe. He'd tell me, ‘No one got 'em kid, especially not me. But
you, Mini, you got manners. Don't underestimate how much that
scares the hell out of people, especially the rough
ones.’

I really didn't think the Commander had been too frightened of
my well placed 'sorry's' and 'thank you's', but at least he'd
smiled. And for someone who was living in ‘strange times’, a smile
couldn't hurt.

Chapter 2

The rest of my day had been so-so. It was so-so because I
never really liked going to the Med Bay. It was always an
uncomfortable ordeal that would see me smiling blankly at some
fresh-faced doctor who was just ‘fascinated’ by my genetic
phenotype. ‘White hair', they'd say, ‘I've never seen anything code
for a trait that white.’ Then they'd prod around in my DNA, sucking
their teeth and waggling their eyebrows. ‘Amazing! Your morphology
is almost completely human, just the hair and eyes – how did that
happen?’

Through the entire time I'd always just be sitting on the
corner of the bed, dead eyed, trying not to encourage them. Most of
the time my halfy status only ever saw me mild disdain or
indifference, but to doctors and geneticists I was a curiosity
worthy of closer examination.

‘
Your eyes are so intriguing,’ this doctor had said, ‘they
don't match anything I've ever seen before . . .
‘

I just sat there patiently as I watched the counter on the
medical scanner tick down to complete. With a little ping, it
finally finished its task and I almost threw myself from the
bed.

‘
Oh, are you sure you couldn't hang around
Miss . . . ahh,’ the Doctor flicked his eyes to the
scanner to read my name, ‘Mini?’

Now that was fascinating. For someone who supposedly held such
an interest in me, how was it that he couldn't even remember my
name? I shook my head politely. ‘I'm sorry, I really have to get
back to work. Perhaps another time.’ With that, I had left, very
quickly.

I hadn't gone back to work, of course. My shift had been
almost up when the little red guy had attacked. Plus, I really had
to go back to my quarters and feed Hipop. So the rest of the day
and night (which is a rather relative notion in a space station) I
had spent with my monkey cat watching galactic TV, and maybe more
than once, thinking about a certain handsome, but curt
commander.

The next day saw me back at work, apron tied tightly and
neatly around my skirt. I wasn't about to have a repeat of
yesterday, thank you. And things were busy, really busy. The place
was packed, with GAMs, cargo crews, and general space riff-raff
sitting or standing in every available space. And there was a buzz
in there air, the likes of which I hadn't heard since a GAM cruiser
had gone nuclear at the edge of the system several months ago. They
were talking, all of them, between slinging down their alcohol and
shoveling in their food.

At first, stupidly, I thought it might have had something to
do with my little altercation yesterday. After all, it isn't
everyday a waitress gets attacked by a tiny monk-alien. But no, it
would take more than a table-tipping fight to electrify this
room.

It didn't take long to piece it together though. I would hear
snatches of conversation as I whirled around taking orders and
handing out steaming plates of things that really pushed the
definition of ‘food’.

‘
Came in yesterday,’ one GAM said between fork full’s, arms on
the bar as he talked to freight captain. ‘Dead as dead can
be.’

‘
Ghosts,’ a Crag rumbled to a bounty hunter, ‘never happen on a
Crag ship'.

‘
Station engineers won't even look at it, they're getting the
GAMs to go in. Good luck to them.’

‘
They found her out in the middle of nowhere, towed her in.
Said they haven't seen anything like this
since . . . ‘

But as soon as I would pick up on a conversation, I'd be
called to another waiting patron. As the day wound on, I found the
Commander's words reverberating around my head: 'these are strange
times'. Well these were certainly strange times today, I was
frantic trying to keep up with the customers and trying to pick up
what on Earth had happened at the same time.

I tried to ask Claudia at one point, but she was too busy
chatting to a group of GAMs, and the other girls were darting in
and out of the crowd like moths to the light.

I was getting steadily more frustrated yet equally excited by
the whole thing. I just wanted to
know . . . 

‘
Order of Ankorian Sea Bass, down the line.’

I grabbed the dish from the kitchen shuttle and secured it on
the flat of my forearm, narrowly missing one of the girls as she
scuttled to get drinks from the bar.

The dish stank of rotting fish that had been left out on a
muggy day in a solution of butter and sugar. I tried not to breathe
in the fumes as I hefted it to the bar. ‘Your order,
sir.’

A Crag grabbed it and started ripping chunks off the purifying
flesh before he had even pulled it towards him. I noticed, through
a barely concealed grimace, that it was the same guy I served
yesterday. It was unusual for types like him – mercenaries, bounty
hunters, gunrunners – to hang around too long on this space
station. It was just a stopover, a chance to refuel and re-equip.
It wasn't a holiday destination.

I stared at him a moment too long and he slowly raised his
huge head, lizard-green skin creaking with the effort. ‘What?’ his
voice just dripped with menace.

I stopped myself from yelping and quickly turned to the human
who had just sat down beside him, more than thankful for the
legitimate distraction.

It was a GAM, and he smiled with only half of his mouth.
‘Morning, Mini.’

I blinked so quickly, I must have looked like a startled
cartoon character. ‘Oh, Jason - I mean Commander. I-
ah . . . ‘ it was like I had momentarily forgotten
my job. I had to wrack my memory for what to say next.
‘Umm—’

‘
Chef's special,’ he jumped right to it in usual Commander Cole
style.

I nodded far too unsteadily, I must have looked like a broken
robot. ‘Coming right up,’ I managed.

I went to turn.

‘
So, did you actually stay around for the medical scans
yesterday?’

I hesitated a moment before I turned back. I didn't have the
time to chat, not on this strange day. But I had been working
nonstop for hours . . . . ‘Yes.
Just.’

‘
Just?’ he sat with one arm leaning on the bar, the other
tugging at his uniform top.

‘
I've never liked doctors.’

‘
Don't get shot then.’

I couldn't tell if it was a joke, his face didn't give
anything away, and his tone was as flat as the bench he leaned
on.

‘
It was a joke,’ there was that tone again, except this time
the half-smile was back. Why he didn't smile with both cheeks was a
mystery. It was such an in-between move – like things really only
amused him by halves.

‘
I knew that, I think,’ I bit my lower lip. I was feeling
increasingly awkward in this conversation. Half of me wanted
Claudia to swan in and take over, but the other half would have
preferred a hull breach than be called away right now.

The conversation seemed to die out. Cole gave the Crag at his
side a glancing look then returned his eyes to some stain on his
hand.

I thought desperately of something to say, I would look like
such a pill if I walked away now. ‘Oh,’ I said a little too quickly
as I chanced upon something. The Commander, with all his
distracting finesse, had made me completely forget my morning's
obsession. ‘Do you know what's going on around here?’

His eyes narrowed in a moment of confused amusement. ‘We're
having an awkward conversation, and the guy to my right is eating
rotting sea gunk.’

I put a hand up to my mouth, one finger pressed against my
lips – it was something I did when flustered. ‘No, no. I meant at
the station. I've been at work all morning, and I keep on hearing
all these strange conversations—’

‘
Ghost ship,’ the Commander cut in. He wasn't one to just let
me babble when he already knew the answer.

‘
Ghost ship?’

‘
It's a term for a ship that's found drifting without a
crew—’

I knew what a ghost ship was, but I wasn't about to interrupt
him when he was forming sentences of longer the four
words.