Free A Stranger Thing (The Ever-Expanding Universe) by Martin Leicht, Isla Neal

and turns. Every last man looks at me, completely silent. Suddenly all the air has left the room. And, okay, I realize they probably don’t get any women down here, but this gang looks absolutely stupefied .
    “Bloody hell,” comes a voice from the group.
    Only one man has the courtesy to stand up. He is tall, broad-chested, blond, and ruddy. Although as he saunters our way I get the sense—from the disgusted sneer plastered on his face, I suppose—that maybe he’s not standing out of courtesy after all.
    Oates clears his throat as the man approaches, as though in warning. “Jørgen,” he says quietly, almost in a growl. But whatever Oates thinks he’s communicating, the man Jørgen does not listen.
    “ These are our newest additions?” Jørgen sneers. He has a hint of a Swedish accent, which would be slightly comical if not for the fact that he’s currently leering at my baby like she’s a bug he found in his coffee. His eyes flick up to me, and I quickly get the feeling that I’m the mama bug. “Is the Council just dumping any old trash down here now?”
    “Manners, Jørgen,” Oates says.
    Jørgen scoffs dismissively. “Manners? I’ll show you manners. Manners would be kicking these worthless mules back out into the cold where you found—”
    Jørgen doesn’t see the punch that Cole lands on the side of his head, but I’m sure the little cartoon birds that are circling above him can describe it to him later in detail.
    “Cole!” I shriek. “What are you doing?” Olivia’s wails grow even louder as a slender fellow with sandy-brown hair leaps up from the table to jerk Cole back by the arms. “Have you completely lost your mind?” I ask Cole, backing away from the scuffle to try to comfort my wailing infant.
    Cole has a confused look on his face, like he can’t tell ifhe’s proud of what he’s just done, or embarrassed. The man pinning Cole’s arms behind him seems a little more with it, however. “Oates?” the man asks, clearly wondering what to do about Cole, who’s not even struggling against the restraint.
    Still on the floor, Jørgen rubs his jaw. “What are you waiting for?” he asks Mr. Sandy Hair, spitting out a tooth. “Take him out to the kennel.”
    “When he does something out of line, perhaps,” Oates replies. And without needing to hear another word, the sandy-haired fellow releases Cole.
    “Sorry,” the man whispers to Cole as he lets him go. “Just had to check with the boss.” And then, shockingly, he winks at him.
    “These are our guests ,” Oates repeats, his voice loud enough for all the Almiri to hear. He extends a hand to help Jørgen off the floor, but the Swedish Bond villain—no shocker—refuses, pushing himself dizzily to his feet, muttering and growling. “You will treat them all with respect.” This, clearly, is directed at Jørgen.
    “You’re not in charge of anyone here, Titus, regardless of what you may think,” Jørgen snarls. But even I can see that this is wishful thinking on Jørgen’s part. All Oates has to do is take a single step in Jørgen’s direction, and suddenly Mr. Very Obviously in Charge seems to have grown about ten centimeters taller. He looks down at Jørgen and doesn’t say another word, merely fixes his eyes on him until the Swede finally crumbles.
    “Welcome to Cape Crozier,” Jørgen grumbles to me. He narrows his eyes at the top of Olivia’s head, then raises one thick blond Swedish eyebrow. “I hope you’ll both be very comfortable here.”
    Well.
    “What the heck was that ?” I hiss at Cole as Jørgen stumbles furiously out of the room. “Are you high?”
    Ducky finally emerges from where I didn’t realize he was crouched behind my dad to ask, “What’s a mule, anyway?”
    Cole just shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But it didn’t sound very nice.”
    I puff out my cheeks, exasperated. Only my Coley would risk getting shivved on his first day in prison, and not even know why .
    Mr. Sandy Hair