SCI FI Friday 2 14

He woke up in the dark.

At least, he thought he was awake. He couldn’t really tell. The darkness was absolute. Complete.

So quiet there was an echo of nothing around him.

Except a steady thudding, rushing sound he couldn’t place.

Like a thrumming hum that swished every second.

Or faster.

The more he listened, the faster he got.

Tinker realized it was his heartbeat he could hear.

“If I can hear my heart, I’m not asleep,” he said.

He tried to sit up and banged his head before he made it half way.

“Ow, he complained and moved his hands.

At least he wasn’t tied up.

His hands felt a solid surface on top of him and on each side. He assumed the same was underneath him, since he wasn’t falling, but he double checked just to be safe.

Yep, it was solid too.

He was in a box.

A box in absolute silence except for his heartbeat.

For a moment, he was afraid he was floating free in space, twisting forever until he crashed into some rock or planet or was pulled into the sun to burn to a crisp.

Of course, he would be dead way before then, because he would run out of air.

“No air,” he told himself.

But what he meant was he didn’t have an airmask, and he was pretty sure he needed one of those if he was floating in space.

Chalk one up in the win column, he thought. I’m not in space.

Not in a box in space, he corrected as he felt around some more just in case the configuration changed in the last few seconds since he last checked.

It had not.

“I’m still in space,” he said to himself. “But in a general sense, not a floating in a box lost kind of way.”

He wondered what kind of box he was in.

The kind they found Kansas in, he bet, and wondered if it could be the same box.

He tried to recall what happened just before he woke up.

Besides falling asleep, because how else would he wake?

Tinker didn’t think he fell asleep though.

His muscles ached, and his head throbbed.

That could be because he was running out of air, and he had a flash of panic that made him break out in a cold sweat. He started down the path to hyperventilating, but a couple of quick breaths made him lightheaded and he called it quits.

Panic wouldn’t do him any good.

He tried a couple of pilot techniques to bring him back to a state of calm.

It involved taking long slow breaths, which made him hear his heart even more, and then he could hear a wheeze in his chest.

Was he getting a cold?

If he got out of this, he would see a doctor and get some meds to head it off. Drink some extra water too, just to hydrate.

“When I get out of this,” he corrected.

Positive thoughts and words were part of the pilot training.

“Because when you’re lost in space, nothing quite helps like telling yourself it’s going to be alight,” he said out loud.

He wondered if talking was using up too much air, and took a vow of silence.

Something bumped against the outside of the box.

Tinker took a deep breath and screamed as loud as he could.

It hurt his ears, so he clamped his hands over

The lid of the box cracked open, the light so bright it hurt his eyes. He squeezed them shut and prepared to die.

When that didn’t happen right away, he got bored and squinted through one scrunched up eyelid.

There was a being standing over him, more a shadow than anything. A golden halo highlighted a ring around the being’s celestial head, hiding the features of the face bathed in darkness.

Tinker realized he was holding his breath and gasped.

“I get that reaction a lot more than you would think,” Trixie said.

She held a massive hand down to lift him out of the box.

Tinker stood on shaky legs in the cargo hold of his ship.

Correction, his stolen ship.

Jaeger and Kink stared at him.

If the tiny gangster was on board, then Tinker was pretty sure he would insist the ship was his, and he really didn’t want to argue with the man about it.

Technically, it might be true, since he had stolen it, but he felt good about calling it his ship and stealing from petty criminal gangsters was almost like fighting crime.

If he thought about it, in the right light, he had confiscated this ship to prevent it from being used in criminal activity, so that made him a hero.

A crime fighter.

Not like those super hero movie guys, because Tinker knew he couldn’t pull off tights and a cape.

More like a cop.

An undercover cop because here he was, surrounded by criminals.

Any mention of law enforcement might get him tossed through an airlock for a long cold space nap.

Tinker decided discretion beat valor any day and kept his mouth clamped shut.

“What are you doing here?” he asked anyway.

Jaeger smiled.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend.”

Tinker gulped.

Old friend. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the box. Maybe long enough for short term memory loss. He was sure that was one of the side effects of oxygen deprivation.

Were they friends?

Had he given up his law enforcement ways and gone rouge? Was he, in fact, a criminal mastermind?

“He’s kidding,” Kink snapped as she spied the confusion playing across Tinker’s face.

“I knew that,” Tinker grinned back. “Just relishing the thought mate. You and me, we could make a good team.”

He threw in the last part to head off any airlock tossing thoughts that might be floating in their minds.

He shared a grin and a wink with Trixie too, just to be safe.

“Where’s Kansas?” he noticed his paramour was missing.

Kink glanced at the back of Jaeger’s head as crimson flared on his ruddy cheeks.

“She is otherwise occupied,” Trixie answered for the little man.

“Where she’s going to remain occupied while you help us.”

“Me?” Tinker gulped. “You need me to fly you somewhere?”

“I set the auto-pilot,” Trixie said.

“You know you can’t always rely on those things,” he said. “You want me to just double check it?”

He took a step toward the cockpit.

There was a jar of old starshine next to the pilot’s seat, unless they had cleaned up and by the look of his clothes on the bench and other jars scattered around the crew cargo area, they had not gotten to that yet.

“I want you to stay right there,” Jaeger growled.

Tinker froze.

“Staying right here,” he answered.

“See, he can follow orders,” he said to Kink.

He reached a hand around her waist and jerked her closer to him.

“You fancy yourself a card man?” the gangster leaned in and licked Kink on the neck.

Tinker tried to suppress a shudder.

Under normal conditions, that kind of thing might turn him on. Hell, he might even pay to watch.

But the way Jaeger did it, and the way Kink reacted, like she wanted to throw up but was too afraid of what he might do if she did, gave Tinker the heebie jeebies.

Trixie watched their reactions with a stone look on her face.

“You’re going to help us,” Jaeger told him.

Tinker glanced at the cockpit as he nodded.

Now he needed that drink more than ever.

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