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I got up from my chair and approached Rattigan. The fool grinned at me before I belted him across his furry face, knocking him to the floor.
“Don’t you ever question me again!” I bellowed, standing over him. “When I give you an order, you follow it, do you understand?”
Rattigan glared at me and wiped the blood from his split lip. He nodded. Barely visible, but it was there.
I straightened up and glared at the others. They respected strength. It was about the only thing they did respect. I stepped back and felt that squirming gut-wrenching sensation in the pit of my stomach.
The sickness was upon me and delivered a gut punch that made me stagger to one side. I gripped a console before I fell sprawling to the floor. A high pitched whine rang in my ears as Stryder approached, reaching to take me by the arm. He spoke but his voice was distant.
I shrugged him off. “I don’t need your help!” I glared at my crew. “The next time you idiots steer us into an asteroid field, I’ll do you the favor of slamming head-first into the first meteor I see.”
I marched toward the door. “Stryder, you have the deck.”
I held my head high, my strides long and powerful. The only thing worse than being destroyed by an asteroid field was being killed by your own crew.
And I feared the chances of that happening increased day by day.
I marched off the deck and returned to my room. The instant the door slid shut behind me, I fell to my knees and emptied my stomach across the floor. My arms shook and I could barely keep myself from falling in it.
It’s getting worse, I thought. The sickness was overtaking me. It first struck almost three weeks ago when I visited Earth to find a set of six sexy human females for customers willing to pay my prices.
I shoved the bathroom door open and fell to my knees, throwing up in the toilet bowl. My stomach heaved, bring up lumps of—
Ugh. I didn’t even want to think about it.
The sickness gripped me the day I entered that Earth bar and began my scout. It was the sight of that girl on the dancefloor putting a hand to her mouth as she rushed toward the nearest exit that pushed me over the edge.
I ran into the backrooms and barely managed to find the male toilets before falling to my knees and praying to the god of ceramics.
I must have caught something. Easy to do when you traveled as much as I did. I was a transporter, which meant I was a glorified mailman. I ferried cargo from one place to another. Anything, really. So long as the price was right.
But there were other services I offered too, such as scouting for merchandise. I charged a premium but it was always worth the extra effort. I always liked to deliver the highest standard when it came to service.
I was getting on with the human female too, the one who approached me. What was her name again?
Alice.
That’s right. A tasty little number. I knew right away she was exactly what I was looking for.
Sometimes I got lucky and the fish swam directly to me. A shame I got sick. I wouldn’t have minded a little taste myself…
I emptied my stomach in the human toilet and spat the final few lumps out. I wiped my mouth and pressed the little lever on the side to flush. I moved to the sink and washed my hands.
“Had too much to drink, huh?” a stringy guy with an abysmal haircut said, relieving himself at a urinal.
“Too much of something,” I said.
“There’s one thing that you can never get too much of,” the guy said. “And that’s hot pussy. And boy, I ain’t never seen so much hot pussy in one location in all my life.”
He got so excited, he missed the urinal and it puddled around his feet.
“Not that it’s such a big deal for someone like you,” the man said with a wink. “I’m sure a handsome guy like you can have the cream of the crop wherever you go. Not like me. It’s always been an uphill struggle. Oh, and have you noticed? There are hardly any guys out there! No competition! A bunch of drunk pussy desperate for a fuck! This is heaven. For me, it’s prime hunting season.”
He shook himself off, zipped himself up, and slapped a hand on the flush. He clapped me on the back and then got to work washing his hands.
I imagined a dirty big handprint in urine on the back of my jacket and it made me seethe.
“What do you do?” he said.
