noise. When no sound came, I quietly pushed the door aside. Sticking my head out, I made sure no one was out there.
The corridor seemed deserted. Though, its bright lights remained on. For a moment, I wondered where Vrateus’s room was and whether he would be asleep, too. Even the captain needed to rest sometimes.
Once out of my room, I slid the door closed behind me. Unfortunately, with the panel in my room being disabled, I could no longer lock the door from the outside.
With any luck, my disappearance wouldn’t be discovered until tomorrow morning when Vrateus would come by with breakfast. By then, I should be far away from here, in another place and even another time.
I ran to the part of the corridor where I had seen the dust and twigs from the garden on the floor. Tapping along the panels on the wall, I found the one with the tunnel behind it. A ribbed, rubbery strip ran along it on the bottom, moving noiselessly as a conveyor belt.
Quickly, I slid into the tunnel. Lying down with my back on the belt, I let it carry me along.
The space was rather narrow. I pressed my arms to my sides to make sure I didn’t get accidently stuck along the way. Malahki had spoken about going down here, occasionally. The damirian was tall but slender, only a little wider in the shoulders than me. I doubted Vrateus would fit through here, though. Definitely none of the errocks would.
That was good. Even if anyone discovered how I had escape and where I was heading, they would have to use the corridor to catch up with me, which should take them considerably longer.
A faint murmur of voices came from up ahead, making me realize I must be nearing the waste processing room. I had hoped no one would be there at this hour. Now, I scrambled for a way to slow myself down. Falling out of the chute in front of the undersexed aliens who had used me as a visual stimulus for self-pleasuring for the past three weeks would be a disaster.
Pressing my arms and feet into the walls of the narrow tunnel, I lifted my body off the conveyor belt. The rubbery material of the soles of my boots connected well with the uneven surface of the walls, allowing me to control my climb down this slanted section of the tunnel.
The voices grew louder as I progressed. Several of Vrateus’s crew members were there in the room, yelling and arguing by the sound of it.
Keeping my eyes on the tunnel up ahead, I stopped moving as soon as a brightly lit opening came into view.
Judging by the voices, there must be at least four of them out there, but it could be more than that. Not all the males in this place were vocal. Some, like Qen, the tentacled alien who got shot in the kitchen, acted without saying a word.
Even four would have been too many. I had no weapons to fight them with.
Flexing the muscles in my arms and legs, I hovered inside the tunnel. Suspended over the conveyor belt, I knew I wouldn’t last long. Eventually, my legs would give out, and the belt would propel me out into the room.
Although the arguing grew louder, I failed to understand what the four were fighting over. Only a few words reached me in the tunnel, most of them were curses.
My legs felt numb and my arms shook. I prayed no garbage would come from behind and push me out of the tunnel.
A fifth voice joined the group in the room, yelling at the rest to get the fuck out. After that, all went quiet.
Afraid to move, I remained in the tunnel a bit longer, waiting for any noise from the outside. When none came, I relaxed my muscles, letting myself fall back onto the conveyor belt. It took me into the room, dumping me onto a pile of dirt and twigs.
I exhaled with relief, finding the room empty. Picking up a thicker stick from those lying around, I was glad to have at least some kind of weapon, now.
The room was filled with crates stacked along the walls. Piles of garbage littered the floor. Stepping around them on my way to the exit, I realized that what seemed to be aimless littering must have had a system. The contents of the crates were sorted by the type of material. Unsorted waste piled up on the floor, to