CHAPTER 6

Persephone: 15 Months Ago

Odds are good I’m gonna die here, but maybe I can take him with me. Don’t even start to get clear of my chair when a great weight drops on each shoulder. Good ol’ Mister Smiley.

“Jacob, please. Calm yourself and listen. I do not own slaves, nor as a matter of course hold indentures. This is merely an insurance policy to ensure your cooperation in a short, and highly profitable business venture I have in mind. Should you agree, when your work is completed I will gladly turn over to you the indenture contract. And, as recompense for any damages to your person last night a sum of, shall we say, five hundred creds? “

Ah, the carrot. If true, that’d get me clear of this place with coin to spare. Whatever this job is it has to be worth BIG money. But why do I suspect he wants to use me for sumthin’ dirty, then drop me down a deep hole?

“And if I respectfully decline?”

“Well, then I’m given to understand that there is a chronic labor shortage on the terraforming projects. Very dangerous work, I believe”.

And the stick, leavin’ me caught between a rock and no place. Damn.

“Mr. Barty, I’m your man.”

“Excellent. Mr. Smiley will show you to your quarters, and after you have cleaned up a bit, I believe a change of clothes would be in order. “ True enough. I stank.

Back into the elevator and down a level. It opens onto a short hall, a couple of doors on each side, grubby window down at the end. Possible escape route? Have to check into that later, too stiff and sore to make much of a run right now.

Smiley’s hand in the middle of my back shoves me into the left-hand room down to the end of the hall. The door shuts and locks as I fetch up against the sink. Note to self: kill that sumbitch at the first opportunity. Look around.

Sink I just crashed into, mirror above it. Rap knuckles on the mirror: thunk thunk. Plas, won’t break so I can use a shard for a knife. Sink and toilet are both plas, no joy there either. Coffin sized shower unit in the corner, n