Mothership by Martin Leicht & Isla Neal

Author:Martin Leicht & Isla Neal
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781442429604
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers
Published: 2012-07-10T05:00:00+00:00

I look down into the abyss. A hundred meters, give or take. The ladder bolted to the wall is narrow, with thin rungs, and the passage down would be tight even if we weren’t trying to cram a bunch of swollen mommies-to-be down it.

“You can’t be serious,” I say, staring over the edge and imagining the gooey fate that would await me if my foot missed a rung.

“This is the fastest way down,” Captain Bob replies. “You said so yourself.”

And I guess I can’t argue with that.

Cole seems to share my concern for free-falling pregnant girls, because he presents Captain Bob with a large coil of thin metallic cable that resembles old piano wire.

“I found this fastening cable in the depository back there,” he tells Bob, gesturing to the large storage compartment we just passed. “Figured we could use it to secure the girls for the descent. It’s certified for six, seven tons of resistance, easy.”

“Then how’s it going to hold Elvie’s fat ass?” Britta says, shoving past me. Apparently that ankle of hers isn’t quite as busted as she let on. “Hook me up. I’m going down first.”

“No,” Bob says. “Archer, you go first. If anyone loses their grip, I’d prefer they fall on you.”

“Fine by me,” Britta says. She gives Cole a cold stare and a face like Come on with the cable already. It’s almost as if finding out that Cole isn’t human and had been assigned by a secret society to inseminate her with a parasitic embryo has put him on her shit list for good.

Go figure.

Ramona nudges me with her elbow as Cole begins fastening the cable under each of the girls’ baby bumps. “Why do you put up with that shit?” she asks me, jerking her head in Britta’s direction. “You never slam that bitch back.”

Cole and Britta are both several meters away, out of earshot, but still I hesitate to respond. “It’s just . . .” I begin. I stare down at the bump that is the Goober. “She doesn’t know,” I say at last, turning back to Ramona. “She was with Cole first, and I sort of . . . I guess I kind of stole him.”

“Don’t tell me you feel like you deserve that shit,” Ramona spits. “If you ask me, leaving that chrometard was the only smart move your boyfriend ever made.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I reply. “Never was.”

Ramona rolls her eyes. “Anyway”—she pokes an index finger into my stomach—“I’d say you’ve suffered enough for your sins, Elvie.”

When we’re all tied together like a string of novelty Christmas lights, Cole starts down the ladder. We all trail behind, Captain Bob coming last. It’s very slow going—the sort of speed at which you might be able to squeeze peas through a drinking straw—and the metal tubing scrapes against our skin as we slide down. It’s rough and surprisingly chilly and my clothes are still slightly damp from the pool, which isn’t helping my comfort level any. But worst of all is the fact that I have somehow ended up right underneath Carrie.

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