Grinde Galaxy Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

As I was cleaning the last of the guns, a bent-over old man hobbled into the bay. He was carrying a backpack full of spare parts. With a grunt, he dropped the bag to the floor, fishing around in it until he found two nutrition bars. He tossed one at me.

I grabbed it. It was a standard ration bar that I had eaten many times before. It was some comfort to me, reminding me of a home that I no longer had. I bit into it. It was stale, but still good.

“Your name.” The old man bit into his own bar.

“Mythe.”

“Quite the name for a young lad such as yourself.” The old man leaned back and rubbed his nose. “You should probably get back to work.”

“Um.” I paused. “What are you doing here?”

“Doing?” The old man laughed. “I’m not doing anything. They just use me as a pack mule, that’s all.” He waved his half-eaten nutrition bar. “I came over here to see the new runt.”

“Are there other cabin boys on this ship?”

“I think you underestimate how large this vessel is.” The old man scratched his nose. “The name’s Jones.”

“Jones.”

“Yeah, kid. Sorry about your planet. But you know how it goes with the synths.”

“Um, yeah.” I looked down at the bar I was eating. I looked up. “Do you think my parents survived?”

“Fat chance.” Jones chuckled. “No, seriously. Synths never let anyone live. Their attacks are equivalent to exterminatus.”

“Exterminatus …”

Jones shoved the last bit of his nutrition bar into his mouth. “You betcha. You don’t know how many planets I’ve seen fall to those buggers. Always another. Always more deaths. Always more biomass for them to accumulate.”

“Are they really alive?” I looked down at the gun I was cleaning.

“As alive as you or me.” Jones grinned, showing a row of crooked teeth. “And I think they’re smarter.” Jones looked around as if making sure the coast was clear. Then, he stood up, brushing off his back. “I’ll be going along, runt. See you later. Be sure not to get on the wrong side of the marines.” He hobbled away, carrying the basket on his hunched-over back.

I waved, and returned to cleaning the guns.

Three space marines entered the bay, and stopped when they saw me.

“Who said you could stop working?” The middle marine was slightly bigger than the others, and without his armor he was still an imposing presence.

The large marine spat on the gun I was cleaning. “You missed a spot.” He picked his teeth with a toothpick. “You’re nothing. A runt. A runt like you shouldn’t even be allowed the privilege to clean our secondary weapons.”

The three marines laughed.

The larger marine knelt down next to me, his massive body seeming to swallow me up. “Look here, runt. You’re not welcome here. Only the strong survive. Only the strong live on. You’re weak.” He stood up, grinning at me. “Oh, look. You missed another spot.” He took a wad of tobacco out of his mouth and rubbed it against a piece of armor. “Eh?” He chuckled, and the three marines left the bay.

I sat down, sighing. Though I had tried to ignore his vitriol, it had gotten to me. I curled up into a ball and tried to stay strong. It had never occurred to me that space marines weren’t all kind people. I didn’t even know if Isac was kind or if he just thought that I would make an interesting toy.

I cleaned off the spit and tobacco. When it was as clean as I could get it, I stood up and brushed off my pants. I had no idea where I was supposed to go or what I was supposed to do. I re-racked the armor and guns and decided to wander the ship.

I considered myself very good at sneaking around. For purely noble reasons of course. If they weren’t going to tell me what to do I would figure it out myself.

I found a small vent duct that looked loose. Just as I was about to pull the duct off, I heard footsteps coming from around the corner. I sprinted into the bay area again and placed myself as if I had just finished cleaning the armor and weapons.

Isac rounded the corner, carrying a large box. He dropped it on the floor where it resounded with a thump. He rubbed his hands.

“You need to salute your commanding officer.”

“I—”

Isac grimaced. “We’re starting from there?” He walked up to me and grabbed my head and my arm. “Like this.” He forced me into the Imperial salute. I had seen it performed before but had never performed it myself.

“Ah …” I stretched my body to perform the salute. When Isac let go, he backed up and examined me. “You’re now a crew member of the Atlas. You need to behave like one. I’ve arranged our maintenance tech for the second lower A deck to teach you. I won’t be around much, but you are my pet project, so I won’t completely abandon you.” Isac frowned. “Salute.”

I saluted.

“Back straight.” Isac reached into his pocket and pulled out a complete set of well-ironed naval clothes. He tossed them to me and they landed flat at my feet. “Change.”

I hesitated.

Isac crossed his arms. “Change. Now.”

I took off my tattered shirt and stepped out of my pants. The naval clothing appeared well taken care of and was meticulously folded. It took me five minutes to put everything on and get the buttons aligned right. During the entire process, Isac was examining my body.

“You appear to be used to crawling around in small spaces.” Isac raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, how could you tell?”

“Your pattern of scars and the way you move your body. It’s obvious to anyone who can see.”

“I used to, um, do a lot of creeping.”

“No need to hide the fact that you were a thief.”

“Ahaha …” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“So be it.” Isac’s lips curled up. “If I ever need something stolen I’ll know who to get to.”

“Um—” I paused.

“Yes?”

“Why are you so much kinder than the other marines?”

Isac raised an eyebrow. “Space marines value bravery and combat prowess above all else. I saw you go after that scather. You’re no soft civilian.” He turned around. “In any case, Jones will lead you to your bunk.”

Jones appeared from behind Isac. “We meet again.”

Isac nodded, and then left, leaving me facing Jones. Jones chuckled. “You’re with me for good, eh?” He winked. “I’ll make sure to take good care of you.” He ushered me to his side. “We’re headed to the lower bunks. They’re tiny little things but, with your size, you really shouldn’t have to worry about that.

I did have a small frame, after all.

“You used to crawling around?” Jones led me through the maze of the ship’s corridors. “If you really do know what you’re doing, then I have a mission for you.”

I hesitated, looking over my shoulder. “Okay?”

“Look. There’s been rumors around here that an ancient artifact is on board. A Tolk Transmitter AI.”

“AI?” I shuddered. “Those should have all been destroyed.”

“Eh, so you know what I’m talking about.”

“I think so.”

Jones looked left and then right. He nodded once. “I want you to make contact with the AI and ask it a question for me.”

“Um, okay.”

We reached the door to the bunks, which was labeled as such. Jones handed me a key card. “I’ll leave it to you to figure out how to get there.” He turned away. “Do be careful. The other people using this bunk room can be, well, you’ll see.”

On the other side of the key card was a slip of paper. I nodded watching, as Jones walked away.

On the piece of paper was the question: “Where is the chronomicon.” I folded it up and put it in my pocket. I then used the key card to open the door to the bunk.

Two people were sitting on their bunks, a pile of playing cards between them. They both looked at me.

The girl on the right had half a shaved head, the hair from her other side falling down to her neck. Beneath the shaved part there was a tattoo of a dragon. She had many piercings and her hair had stripes of green and purple in it. She had a slim figure.

The man on the right was a muscled figure with bulging pecs, wearing only shorts. His entire body was chiseled, and his back was covered with intricate Yakuza-style tattoos. He had a cigar in between his lips.

“Um, hi.” I grinned awkwardly.

“Sup, new blood.” The girl snorted loudly. “You gonna be staying with us?”

“Um, yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Mythe.”

“Fat name for a skinny boy like you. How old are you?” The girl picked her nose.

“Sixteen.”

“Hah!” The girl snorted again. “The name’s Draw. Remember it, or forget it. I don’t care.”

The man looked at me with an analyzing gaze. “You’re stronger than you look.” His voice was deep and powerful. “My name is Ranger.”

“Hello.” I looked at the four bunks that were recessed into the walls. “Is there a third person?”

“Nope.” Draw flicked a booger. “It’s just us.” She waved at me. “Wanna play cards?”

“Um, is that allowed?” I licked my lips.

Draw shrugged. “Who cares? As long as they don’t catch you. No one cares what the cabin boys do.”

“So what exactly does a cabin boy do?” I sat down on a free spot that almost worked as a chair.

Draw chuckled. “We clean. Everything. From the armor to the bulkheads.”

“That’s it?”

Draw made a face. “What, do you want to get on the bad side of the marines? With their augments they could pulp you with their pinky finger. We do our jobs here and that’s it.”

I took out the small piece of paper and looked at it again. Chronomicon. I would have to find a time to slip away from these two cabin boys and search the ship for the Tolk AI and ask it the question.

I also wondered what artifact Isac had been referring to when he mentioned “the feather.”

But now was not the time for that. I was dealt a hand of cards.

I came out on top by over double the points of second place. I tossed down my game winning hand.

“Katar.”

“You want to play for real?” Draw took out her money chip. “I want a rematch. This time we’re betting real money.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I want to—”

The bell above the door rang. Draw and Ranger tossed down their cards and slipped into their cleaning uniforms. “Looks like we’ll have to wait for our game. We’re needed.”

“Where?”

Draw tossed me a small portable computer. “Use this. I was supposed to give it to you earlier.”

I took the device and looked at it. It read: All cleaning staff must report to cafeteria B.

I pocketed the device and followed Draw and Ranger through the ship. We passed multiple crewmen as we ran through the corridors.

When we reached the cafeteria, I was taken aback by what I saw. There was a dead sailor in the center of the room in a pool of blood. An inquisitor was standing over the body, wiping off his sacred blade. He turned to us.

His face was covered in thick scars. His eyes were deeply dangerous, and his physical augments gave him an air of mystique. He was wearing the traditional robes of the inquisition.

He pointed to the sailor’s body. “Clean it.” He then turned around and walked out of the room.