The Stars Within by Alex Arch

Author:Alex Arch [Arch, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Champagne Book Group
Published: 2022-07-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Setting in

THOMAS

The ship stopped. Thomas lost count of how many days they traveled the streams. It was too dark and silent. He slept a few times, seated not to be too deep in the crew’s waste, and only a couple of hours at a time. The excretions’ height hinted at how long it had been, even though he didn’t want to confirm it. A stiff neck and shoulders told him he already outstayed his body’s limit.

He sighed a prolonged, lazy exhale to prevent himself from vomiting, head spinning in the process. He wondered if the dizziness gave him nausea or the other way around or what caused these symptoms in the first place. At least the location was apt if he regurgitated. Meals weren’t a commodity during his time in the hole. That was probably the reason for his discomfort. Or the smell. It wasn’t his cancer, was it? No, there were too many other factors.

Air sucked into his confinement from around the circular opening. The odor grew exacerbated for a few moments. He’d gotten somewhat accustomed to it during the travels, to the extent anyone can, but the sudden air rush made it worse. He retched, clamping his mouth with a firm grip to avoid unwanted attention. To his benefit, the cleaning crew was too busy small-talking to hear a man smothering his gag reflex in the sewage drain. The hatch opened, light blinding him before a massive semi-rigid rubber hose came into the hole and dimmed it.

The outside world beckoned to him, but a stowaway skipping on his debts needed to wait for the right opportunity. After everything he’d been through, Thomas wouldn’t let a longing for fresh air be his downfall. The tube vacuumed with a sound like a boisterous, sloppy kiss. The voices became murmurs.

He sloshed toward the ladder, the greenish liquid nearing his thighs, and climbed until the tiny escape forced him to squeeze against the cleaning pipe in order to fit. First, he passed an arm, next he bent his already stiff neck at a weird angle to roll it through the exit like a newborn birthed into the world. His weight pushed on the rubber tube, transforming the noise into the resonant gurgle of someone drinking through a straw. He ought to act fast before the cleaners realized something was wrong with the pressure. In his hurry, he rubbed his head against the metallic rim until it moved through with a sharp pain on his scalp. Ignoring it, he slipped his other arm holding the backpack into the opening, then squirmed for his torso to slide through.

He clambered the ridge with a lingering dizzy spell and went exploring for the crew’s quarters, certain a guy in a shit-stained jumpsuit would draw a custom officer’s attention. The first room belonged to a woman. Nothing useful there. The second one was owned by a man, a tall one, and an officer. Exactly what he needed.

He removed his jumpsuit, hopped into the man’s uniform, and found a mirror.

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