I Like Alice

By Stacy Bender

"Okay, so I am your backup."

"No," she said. "You are bait."

Raul Timberland was Mr. National Average until he hit rock bottom. Now he has an impulsive space monkey as copilot, a man-eating lizard for a security officer, and his criminal girlfriend could crush every bone in his body.

Trapped on a disabled space station, can this group of oddballs elude a band of robbers willing to kill anyone that gets in their way? Or will the outside of the nearest airlock be the last thing that they see?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Byrnas Books
• Release date: Apr 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386517030

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Pain. It was more than just the intense throbbing in his head. His entire body ached. Raul strained to put together the broken pieces of his memory from the night before. The message from his mother started his downward spiral. Confirmation from his cousin convinced Raul that he was a fool. The idea of going out to the frontier worlds where skilled jobs were plentiful and good pilots were in short supply seemed like a marvelous plan. A guarantee he could make a name for himself. Raul would make his fortune, and Alma would be proud of him. Once he saved up enough funds they would get married and the rest would be history. It was a simple and elegant plan doomed to failure. Alma did not wait for him, nor did she bother to send him a Dear John message. Raul had to hear about Alma’s wedding to John Mason from family members after the I do’s were said. No one bothered to tell him, Raul Timberland, that his fiancé was seeing someone else.

Upset and feeling like an utter fool, Raul walked into the nearest bar and told the bartender to line up drinks. Now his body screamed in pain, and his mouth felt as if it was stuffed full of cotton. When he opened his eyes, it was another excruciating ordeal. The searing lights above him forced his eyes shut.

Wakey, Wakey laddie. It’s time to rise and shine. The scratchy, high pitched voice made the pain in Raul’s head worse. The voice sounded unsympathetic if not overjoyed with Raul’s condition.

Raul dared to crack open his eyes. Comprehension seeped into the corners of Raul’s mind as to whom the voice belonged and where he was. He was in the hands of the Bankers, or rather, one of the Bankers. Legalized loan sharking was a better name for it. Contracts were signed and loans given to almost anyone who needed money. However, if a person did not read the fine print on the loan, and the loan was called in, that person could find themselves in dire straits along with his family and possessions. If you could not pay your loan, indentured servitude would be the least of your worries.

You’re a bad investment laddie. At least to me you are. I’m just lucky that someone’s willing to buy your loan.

Raul was not listening to what the Banker was saying. His eyes kept focusing on the Banker’s hat. Raul was not sure when the bowler covered with feathers came into fashion, but it made the weasely little man looked like he was wearing a duck’s butt. As much as Raul wanted to chuckle at the thought, in the back of his mind, he knew laughing would only cause more pain. Not a good thing.

My boys was saying they had a bit a difficulty bringing you in. Seems they had to carry you here. And you made an awful mess of Garry’s shoes.

The sound of shuffling feet and sudden barks of quick laughter told Raul that he and the Banker were not alone. Several stocky figures moved along the periphery of Raul’s inhibited vision, but he ignored them. His mind focused on the words of the Banker. Why in heaven’s name was his loan being called in so soon? Raul tried to remember if his account was up to date, but his brain refused to function.

Seems you’re in a bit of a fix, Rauly my boy. But there was no problem with placing your employment collar on you. It’s working just dandy, right down to the homing beacon.

Several of the figures around the room chuckled at the Banker’s words. Raul did not bother to glance at the Banker’s thugs. It was the Banker who was talking to him, and it was the Banker that held the power. At least, that is what Raul first thought.

The sound of another person’s voice made that power evaporate in an instant. The gleeful countenance of the Banker turned into something akin to a fearful and insidious side character in a child’s story.

He is damaged.

The Banker’s sandpaper voice sounded more, squeaky mouse. Damaged? Oh no, he’s not damaged. A little tender, maybe. But he’s fine.

I have no use for broken merchandise.

Raul tried focusing on the new figure in the room and shifted on the cold hard floor. With his hands underneath him, Raul pushed himself upright. A sudden dizziness threatened to overtake him and he felt his body list to one side. When he closed his eyes, it helped to keep the room from spinning, but not the ball of lead in his stomach. A single belch which released the taste of acid coated bile had Raul wishing he would puke.

Seconds ticked by before Raul’s stomach eased its complaints. Raul knew by the sound of their voices the pair were still talking. He dared open his eyes and focused on his new master. The figure was very tall, cloaked in a floor length brindle colored robe. Their features were hidden underneath the large cowl of the cloak.

The figure motioned toward Raul. You are certain he is a pilot?

Yes, yes, I’m sure he is. Of that, I’m in no doubt. It even says so on his contract. I make sure all my clients list their abilities when they sign. It makes it easier when the loans come due to find the appropriate bondsmen to alleviate the expenses when they can’t pay. The Banker could not seem to sit still as he rambled and fidgeted in what was doubtless the only chair in the room.

I see. The figure’s voice was low, yet raspy. The slight accent gave way to the fact that either English was not the person’s main language, or that the person was from off world.

You’ll like him. He’ll do you well.

I do not trust you Banker. And I have little time for your assurances. The cloaked figure stepped closer to Raul, leaving the Banker to worry his hands and chew on his bottom lip. His new loan holder leaned forward to grasp Raul’s arm and pull him up. The sudden movement had Raul struggling with his body functions while his head spun. Raul’s legs refused to hold him at first, and his churning stomach threatened to expunge what little contents it had. Somehow Raul managed to look up into the face beneath the cowl and see the person who, for all intents and purposes, now owned him until his loan was paid. What he saw was not what he expected. The buyer was not human, but a Krocue. One of the lizard race.

Fear replaced the pain as adrenaline flooded his system. How could the Banker do this to him? Raul was a human, yet he was being sold. His loan bought by a Krocue. Raul did not want to be sold to this hideous creature. He heard the stories and learned of the Krocue-Human War in school like everyone else. Raul did not want to end his life screaming in pain laid out atop a Krocue dining stone. He pulled away from the hand that held his arm and tried to flee, but his own body turned against him. Raul collapsed to his knees, and with stomach heaving, he threw up until he passed out.

***

Luca was not sure what to make of the human known as Raul. He lay crumbled at her feet, surrounded by his own filth. Alcohol hid much of any useful scent, but his reaction to the sight of her appeared normal. She would have considered him defective if he had not attempted to run. In most cases, there was much more begging and pleading. This was always accompanied by the thick, sickening taste of fear which oozed off the new employees she acquired for the ship.

Though she was a Krocue, Luca knew little of her own race. But even with living among humans for most of her life, she still could not read many of the small nuances. Fear was the easiest smell to identify. She was confronted with it often. Her new pilot may have smelled of alcohol, but the Banker reeked of fear. Luca understood that, in this Banker’s puny mind, he was gambling for higher stakes. It was more than just good business to sell this loan to her. Before Luca approached this particular banker, she ensured that he was unscrupulous enough. A Banker willing to sell a loan in default to a Krocue would get a reputation. The type a person someone in need of a loan would not want to cross. Most bankers she worked with were far more discreet. This banker brought witnesses. Though whether for protection or confirmation Luca neither knew nor cared. The Banker wanted the deal done and over with. If there was a way to have bragging rights without meeting Luca, odds are he would have tried it.

If he is defective, I will return. Luca could not help the twinge of amusement she felt as the smell of fear increased tainted by the new odor of ammonia. She did not like dealing with his kind. Luca understood that if the situation were different this Banker would have a very different attitude toward her. He and any others like him, would have no qualms in using her skin to make a pair of boots, or perhaps a coat. He might even make a hefty paycheck by serving her flesh to the highest bidder on the black market for exotic foods.

There were those that tried. The view down the barrel of her 50 caliber model 521 Ruger/Hoffman antimaterial rifle dissuaded such attempts. Like many humans she had dealt with in the past, this banker assumed she would consume her purchase. From past experience, it would be useless to try and convince him otherwise. She had long ago stopped trying.

Luca picked up her new acquisition and carried him in a firefighter’s hold. It made carrying her rifle difficult, but not impossible. None of the humans in the room attempted to bar her way as she strode out of the room through the back door. She did not want to take the main route through town. To do so would be unwise.

Humans did not always listen to reason, and their logic was easily overwritten by emotional triggers. She was outnumbered, even in this little backwoods settlement. If any human took an objection to her new acquisition, damage to her or her new pilot could result. Luca calculated the safest route and traveled the back alleys of the rambling and ramshackle town. She hoped to move along unseen in the wee hours of the morning. Other than encountering a few drunken derelicts passed out on the ground, she passed without incident and boarded her shuttle.

Captain Theodore ‘Teddy’ Manx was in the shuttle waiting for her. Once Luca secured both her new acquisition, and her rifle, she headed to the front of the shuttle. Teddy lounged in the pilot’s seat reading a very rare paper bound book. Its pages were discolored and tattered. He closed the book and tucked it back into his satchel beside his chair.

Luca asked, Did everything arrive?

Yep, just waiting on you. How’d it go?

Minimal difficulty. Though I am uncertain as to the quality.

We’ll find out soon enough. The background information you sent me seemed good.

Luca sat on the floor and braced herself against the hull of the tiny cockpit. Yes.

Captain Manx nodded, sat up, and manned the controls. He maneuvered the shuttle out of the makeshift spaceport and back to their own ship. The Sweet Rose orbited the colony planet along with a half dozen old freighters. Time would tell if Luca’s purchase would work out.

CHAPTER 2

Raul felt somewhat better when he awoke. His mouth no longer felt like it was stuffed with cotton, but the acidic bile taste was little better. Raul’s head still ached and the odor that assaulted his nose reminded him of his college dorm. He felt the familiar low rumble of a ship’s engine and almost let it lull him back to sleep. When he rolled over, he felt the unfamiliar weight of his new collar and the idea of sleep vanished. The memory of the unmoving lizard face assaulted his mind. The cold dark eyes and the expressionless face of sandstone colored scales had him praying it was all a nightmare. Raul shivered in the much too warm room. Crusty goo from spending too much time asleep on the floor sealed his eyelids shut, and it took a moment to force his eyes open. His cell looked very much like a small utilitarian ship’s cabin. The room was barren other than a single sock on the floor in the corner, left to tell of the existence of the previous resident.

The teacher who boasted at how the human race destroyed Krocue kind told Raul and his classmates the race was virtually extinct. Raul’s first week out in the frontier revealed this idea as little more than propaganda. The war may have been over, and the military and leader breed caste of the race on the verge of extinction, but the lower caste drones could still be found. Raul had seen a few in captivity in his time on the frontier. Their short muscular bodies looked nothing like the tall looming figure in the cloak.

Another thing Raul thought was odd was the ship. It appeared to be a human made craft. Raul expected something alien until he considered the possibility it was stolen by the Krocue that manned it. He knew little about Krocue ships and had never seen one. This was not one of them. The mattress he sat on still had its, Made in New China, tag attached to it. Complete with scan code stamp, the tag supplied product material and inane warnings only an idiot would dare try.

A tray of packaged food and a sealed container of water sat on top of a small cabinet welded onto the wall. Raul ate and drank every bit of the tasteless concoction and washed it down with the water. For a moment, Raul thought his new owners might have intended the meal for fattening him up, but it seemed an odd choice of sustenance in which to do so. If that was the case, it was not like there was much of him to begin with. Raul had always been a skinny child and was an even skinnier adult. He wondered how long he had to live and if there was any possibility of escape.

The automatic gravity adjustment system on the ship must have been out of sync, because he felt as if some unseen hand pushed him from the bed. When Raul felt another slight shift of the cabin, he knew there would be little hope of freedom. Not unless he could remove the collar.

Service collars had a long range beacon along with a copy of the person’s loan and sale of default. The collars also served as a banner to all around of the debt the wearer had to pay. Raul had made a vow he would never get himself into that situation. Yet here he was, in debt, and loan sold. It was one more foolish things to drop into his basket of idiocy. Raul had hit rock bottom. He did not think, considering the creature that bought his loan, that there would ever be any reduction of debt, or release from servitude. He sat on his bunk feeling sorry for himself for some time. Thoughts of how to end his life before his new master ended it for him did little to ease Raul’s discomfort. There was nothing in the room he could kill himself with anyway. Someone had already turned out his pockets. Raul assumed the culprit was one of the Banker’s men. They had left him his worn boots. The left boot’s missing clasp must have detoured their theft.

Raul was startled out of his funk when the cabin door slid open. A young human girl, no more than twelve, stood in the doorway glaring at him with an annoyance only she understood. They both eyed each other in suspicion before the girl said, The captain wants to see you.

Excuse me?

The girl rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving the door open. It had never dawned on Raul that the door to his confinement might be unlocked. What surprised him more was the girl. Curious who the child could be, and even more so about his own situation. Raul slid off the bunk and peeked out the door. Other portals lined the corridor. Beside each door was a name and position painted in white. On the wall near his, the stenciling was crossed off. Someone scribbled new guy in crayon and a large question mark drawn over the position of pilot. The word new was spelled nu.

Not knowing what else to do Raul followed the young girl to the end of the corridor. She stopped before another opened door, turned toward Raul, scowled, and crossed her arms. Raul looked inside the open cabin and was surprised to see a robust human male with snow white hair sitting on a bunk. The man appeared to be studying information on a mini computer. Unlike the walls of the cabin Raul awoke in, this one was plastered with pictures and colorful designs. Several miscellaneous items packed numerous shelves and threatened to burst the ties which held them in place.

You must be Raul Timberland. My name is Theodore Manx, and I’m the captain of this here ship. Your page says you’re a pilot. And a damn good one at that. What I want to know is, are you still a good pilot, or did you pickle your skills along with that brain of yours?

No sir. I’m good. I don’t usually drink. Raul trailed off not knowing what else to say. His state of dress was not apt to give him any points in job interviews.