It didn’t take a genius to figure out she’d zoned him out.
Glancing around, Ari looked for a chair to sit on. He rotated his shoulders, trying to loosen the ache. The last thing he wanted was to sit on a hard floor. Spying a square metal block against another wall, he went over and brought it near the woman, who was lost in concentration. Placing the block opposite her, he sat, leaning his back against the wall so he could keep her in sight. His tight thigh muscles screamed in protest, which he acknowledged with a grimace.
The silence stretched between them. Ari opened his mouth to break it, but she spoke first.
“The best way to describe the aliens that run this P.O.S. ship is they’re typical gangsters.”
He tilted his head. “P.O.S.? What’s that?” An elusive memory came and went of a man smirking when Ari uttered that at one time.
Morgan kept her eyes on her work, but a slight smile poked free. “It’s short forpiece of shit. This ship—“ Her head rose as her golden-green eyes glanced around. ”—is the home base for their criminal activities. Their main claim to fame is smuggling.“ She scowled and put down her tool and picked up another. This one was larger and rectangle shaped. “The little creeps are all about greed. Their only known weakness is how much they admire strength and cunning. Especially within their own people. They’re known to promote any of them who double-deals with another species and ends up not suffering any consequences for the betrayal.”
Ari’s stomach rolled. Well, that didn’t sound like anyone he wanted to get friendly with. He hated to ask, but… “So, what do they smuggle?” He suspected he already knew.
“Goods, people, weapons, and a host of other things. Their favorite is taking any sentient species they can get their grubby little hands on to sell on the black market.” Her answer was prompt and said in an absentminded tone. She squinted at the tool she held before glancing at him. “Especially humans whom they consider rare and valuable.”
“Humans?” Another slippery memory floated by. This time, he stood in the middle of a crowd on a busy street, and the feeling of being overwhelmed rushed back. He remembered the solid feel of the sidewalk, the concrete beneath his feet, solid but vibrating with the constant thrum of passing cars and trucks. A thick sea of bodies moved around him, and a chaotic tide of hurried footsteps sounded as fragmented conversations filled the air. Neon signs flickered overhead and cast garish reflections on the shop windows accompanied by the piercing wails of sirens that pierced the cacophony. His chest tightened as he relived the stale stench of exhaust fumes combined with the overpowering scent of cooked street food.
In his memory, he’d held his breath when he looked up. He became dizzy as he gaped at the towering buildings that surrounded him. Their shadows pressed down as if the sky itself was closing in. A lingering remembrance of feeling small and trapped in the bustling and unyielding cityscape made his heart pound.
“Ari?”
He jumped. The sound of Morgan’s voice made him blink, pulling him out of the recollection.
“You okay?” she asked with drawn eyebrows. Her connecting stare held him.
Ari swallowed hard. “Yeah.” He cleared his dry throat. “Just peachy.” Peachy? He rubbed his pounding temple. What the hell kind of word was that? He dropped his hand onto his lap and met her gaze head-on. The stupid metal crate he sat on dug into his ass and thighs.
“Are you one of their slaves?” He squirmed, searching for a more comfortable position.
Morgan’s grin wasn’t happy. “Yeah, and so are you.” She fondled the thick, black collar around her neck.
He hadn’t noticed that before. Startled, he reached up to his own neck. Yep, he had the same thing nestled against his skin. “What’s this?”
“That, my clueless friend, is anuteshsnare. It’s a painful reminder that we’re under someone else’s control.“ She resumed working, her lips pursed as she delved into the open panel again.
Ari frowned. “I don’t understand. If we’re slaves, why are we out in the open in this, ah, room?”
For the first time, he took a long, hard look at his surroundings. The place had an eclectic mix of machinery of every kind scattered around. He ignored the most amazing thing there, the silent, hulking spaceship at the far side of the room, sitting still and ominous. Instead, he studied the overhead dim lightning that cast long shadows, turning a maze of cables and conduits along the ceiling and walls into a tangled mess. Tools lay scattered across the floor, and not just around Morgan. He spied a wrench-looking thing teetering on the edge of a grated walkway above him.
The hum of theNebula Viper’sengine vibrated through the walls, a rhythmic pulse that matched the flickering overhead lights. Loose wires dangled through several open panels on every wall. Occasional sparks around the room sent out puffs of ozone into the stale air. Overall, the place had to be held together by sheer luck and duct tape.
“They need me to fix this mess.” Morgan waved her tool around her. “Idiots don’t have an engineer among them, so I’m worth more to them doing this than selling me to someone else.” Her golden-emerald gaze trapped him. “And I convinced them I needed help when they found you. I don’t suppose you have any mechanical talents, do you?”
A sour taste coated his mouth. “I have no idea.” He studied the open panel she was working on. “But nothing in there looks familiar.”
Her sigh made chills run down his spine. Was she going to hand him over to their captors?
“Well, it was a long shot at best.” Morgan gave him a narrow glare. “Until you get your memory back, think you can do what I tell you so we can keep you out of a cage?” She pointed her tool at him.
“Hey, no worries.” Ari put his hands up in surrender, his chest lighter. “I may not know much about myself, but I’m sure I’m good at taking orders.”
Fingers crossed.
Chapter Two
“That’swhatI’mworriedabout,” Morgan mumbled to herself as she studied the man she named Ari. Did he just admit he was faking his amnesia? If so, why? It’s not like it’d help him with the Ozevroc.
“So, what do you need me to do?” Ari rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back.
