Brody stepped back grudgingly and set his rifle down. As Voorman had me stand up, I noticed him checking out my watch. For a moment, I thought he might take it from me, but he seemed to decide against it. He tied my hands behind my back, then pushed me back down into my seat. I looked up at the man who’d set me and Ching up. “You son of a bitch.”
Voorman looked down at me apathetically, then headed back toward the cockpit. Brody moved, and I turned to see the butt of his rifle flashing toward my head. I flinched, then felt the white hot pain, and everything went black.
UAKM — CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When I came to, my head felt like an axe was buried into it. I hadn’t experienced such pain since the last time I’d had wine, beer, and Metaxa all in the same evening. Even the headache in Brownsville couldn’t compare. I slowly opened my eyes just enough to look around at Voorman’s three cohorts. It appeared that they’d had their way with the bottle of Black Bush. I closed my eyes and pretended to still be out.
For quite a while, I eavesdropped as the three drunken men talked about various women and their body parts. It seemed that they were excited to get to the Moon Child. From what I could understand, there was going to be some kind of large celebration the next day. A bad feeling welled up in my gut.
One of the men announced that he could see the Moon Child. I shifted slightly and realized my hands had fallen asleep. I moved a little more, and the painful tingling began in my fingertips. After a minute, I’d regained enough feeling to start testing the tightness of the cord on my wrists. It wasn’t particularly tight. Trying to move as little as possible, I woked the cord. Slowly, it began to loosen.
By the time we landed inside the Moon Child, I’d gotten the bonds loose enough that I was sure I could get my hands free. As the shuttle powered down, I opened my eyes.
Brody was leering at me, obviously intoxicated. It looked like he was about to attack me when Voorman stepped in from the cockpit. “All right. Let’s go.”
Brody looked up in protest. “What about this guy? He’s mine, damn it.”
Voorman was all business. “I know he is. You can have him. Kust get off my shuttle and go check in. I’ve got a few things to do, then I’ll give you a call. We can take him somewhere private, and you can do whatever you want with him. All right?”
Brody pouted as he climbed unsteadily through the hatch. The two others followed, leaving me alone with Voorman, who went back into the cockpit. The men had taken their weapons with them. I looked around for something useful. The only object within reach was the empty bottle of whiskey. I slipped one hand out from the loosened cord, grabbed the bottle, and hid it behind my back.
A second later, Voorman reappeared. He walked straight toward me and grabbed my left arm. “C’mon. You and I need to have a talk.”
Voorman helped me up with both hands, leaving himself wide open. As I stood up, I was able to wind up and bring the bottle down on the top of his head with full force. He fell to the floor, as limp as a motician’s handshake. I used the cord he had put on me to tie his hands behind his back, being careful to fasten it more securely than he had.
Finally, I tore off one of his shirt sleeves and gagged him.
Before leaving, I looked around quickly for a weapon. I’d never been comfortable with firearms, but I figured I could make an exception this one time. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one to be found. Apparently, Brody and his buddies had taken them off the freighter.
The hatch door was still open. I took a peek outside, then crawled out. When I reached the floor, I straightened up and stretched, then had to bend over, hands on knees, as a wave of pain crashed through my head. I reached back and felt a large, oblong bump on the side of my skull. At leaste it wasn’t visible. Nothing made someone stand out like a huge facial bruise.
As the pain receeded, I stood back up and surveyed my surroundings. I seemed to be in some sort of immense cargo bay, dimly lit with huge florescent lights. The ceiling was at least a hundred feet high, and the interior was big enough to hold a small town. As far as the eye could see, there all kinds of vehicles, from ordinary speeders to large industrial freighters. I also saw various types or machinery, from tractors to bailers. It looked like what you’d take if you were colonizing a new Earth-like planet. Of course, as far as I knew, that was exactly what these people had in mind.
Some distance away, a lone tower rose up above the sea of metal. It appeared to be a watchtower, and I could see several figures inside. I walked casually toward a nearby shuttle and ducked behind it. I glanced around, looking for an exit, and found one several hundred yards away, in the opposite direction of the watchtower. Keeping low, I moved from one vehicle to the next, slowly covering ground. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone wandering around the area.
Until someone discovered Voorman or he managed to get loose, no one on the Moon Child, other than the three drunken thugs, had any reason to know I was there or to suspect that I was an outsider. Considering the size of the satellite, the odds of me running into Brody or one of the other men were pretty remote. At least I had one set of odds on my side.
I eventually reached the door on the far side of the cargo bay and opened it. On the other side was a small foyer containing nothing but a set of elevator doors. Now what? I’d escaped from the freighter and was safely on the Moon Child, but had absolutely no idea what to do next. There was just one thing going for me, and that was temporary.
Realistically, I had nothing to lose. The elevator panel had only one button, and I pushed it.
After a long wait, the up light went off, and the elevator doors opened. No one was inside, so I stepped in. The panel displayed buttons for levels LL through twenty-four.
There was also a button for level thirty-six, but none for levels twenty-five through thirty-five. I closed my eyes and pressed a button, a method that had worked surprisingly well for me in the past — especially at the racetrack. The elevator started to rise, and I saw, with some superstitious apprehension, that the button for level thirteen was lit up.
At level three, the elevator came to a stop, and three drop-dead gorgeous women joined me, without acknowledging my existence. One of them, a tall redhead, with cropped hair and large brown eyes, was talking as she pressed the button for level nine.
“You have to try the lasagna. I don’t know what they put in it, but it’s unbelievable.”
One of the other women broke in. “All I want is a salad.”
“Oh, their salads are unbelievable. Trust me. You’ll love it. And you have to try their bread. They serve it with olive oil and fresh parmesan. It’s absolutely unbelievable.”
I suddenly knew where to go. My mouth was watering with thoughts of rich, cheesy Italian food. When we reached level nine, I followed the young women out of the elevator and onto what appeared to be a cobblestone street, straight out of an old-fashioned Western European village. The air was thick with the aroma of culinary delights. I paused to breathe in deeply before following my oblivious guides down the street.
On either side of the thoroughfare were tables laden with food and surrounded by happy diners. The first eating establishment on my left was a brightly decorated pizza parlor.
Facing it was a Chinese place with an attractive and authentic-looking Buddhist-temple facade. As I strolled down the street, I passed a bakery, a mesquite grill, and an ice cream parlor. All the food looked and smelled delicious.
Eventually, I reached the Italian restaurant. Four packed tables sat beneath a red-and-white-striped awning. Several people nodded a smiled at me as I walked around the tables and stepped through the front door. The interior looked like it had been lifted straight out of an old Dean Martin movie. Large brick ovens were crammed with pizzas.