THE CUB

"I have to know your decision, Harry. If you can't do this, I'll get another Joe."

"Ya gotta give me more time. I gotta get the guns and find a reliable crew. I can pull in a few favors—get some guys I can trust."

Cedric Cain glared at the doddering old man who hobbled around on a cane. It appalled Cedric that he should have to depend on someone so inferior to himself. The man had to be at least seventy-five years old and would be useless for anything except escape because of his impending senility. But Cedric had little choice. He had spent half of his lifetime in the heart of this hellhole. What was it about turning fifty that brought one's lifetime looming large in the mind, showing far too well one's fragile mortality?

"I was immortal once, Harry. I had it all, and I want it back. This is your last chance to make your fortune. Wealth beyond your imagining and all sitting there unguarded. Easy pickings. If the ever-lovely Freya only knew I could read every thought plucked from her stupid, little mind." Cedric threw another large, heavy box onto the conveyor belt and watched it exit the cargo room of the ship.

"Well, I wouldn't mind havin some of that immortality stuff myself. But how are we gonna keep 'em from notifyin the Unity? They got Inter-Stellar radios."

"There was a time I could jam their signals with my mind. Can you imagine? How was I to know they’d put all of my people into a walking coma? The next time, I won't be caught off-guard. I'll have my revenge, and then I'll complete the genocide you started, Harry. I'm surprised you're not in here with me for what you did. In your case, I guess ignorance was still the best defense."

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, ya better get back to the grindstone. One o' them guards is givin ya the evil eye."

Cedric wasn't worried about the guards. The one who now leered at him would be minus his ammunition when the time came for Cedric to shed this prison like a dead skin. The other guard wanted off this hell world as badly as he did and would aid in Cedric's escape for the platinum-lined pockets Cedric had promised.

Cedric's size had given him this small advantage, to be in the loading bay so close to freedom. It had taken him many years to earn this trust, and he wouldn't jeopardize it when that freedom was so close at hand.

"Can you make an extra supply run when you get the ship ready? I can't bear the thought of three more months of playing the automaton. I was born to rule—not to serve."

"Ya been here twenty-five years. What difference is a few months gonna make?"

Cedric didn't get to answer because a guard prodded him with the muzzle of his laser rifle. Instead, he went willingly back into further degradation and slavery. Soon, he would be free from this place that clamped his mind and body in a womb of limbo. Those who put him here would soon know his wrath and the price of revenge.