Free Indigo Squad by Tim C. Taylor Page A

surprises more, even those sprung on someone else.
    “Well, mostly…” he continued. “I’m sorry, Indiya. I should have said this first. Terrible news. It’s your uncle, Deputy Chief Cryo Officer Purify. Indiya, he’s dead.”

— Chapter 15 —
    You’re being too reckless , nagged the annoying voice in Arun’s head, which was a cross between the sounds of his own voice with the attitude of Chief Instructor Nhlappo on a bad day. Thinking of his novice school instructor made his hands bunch into fists; if only he could punch a hole in his skull and rip out his doubts.
    He settled for taunting his qualms instead by risking drawing attention to himself. Abandoning ship’s protocol, he unstuck his boots from the charged walkway on his side of the passageway, and floated over to the grips recessed into the bulkhead. Like walking a ladder, he used them to pull himself along.
    Blinding agony slowed him. The wounds carved into his shoulders by the Jotun’s claws rubbed mercilessly. Propelling himself hand over hand was the worst thing he could possibly do.
    Arun gritted his teeth and pulled at those handles all the harder.
    That’s the problem with messing with a Marine , he told himself, we don’t know how to give up.
    He didn’t ease off until he was fast enough to feel wind on his face.
    At the junction by Deployment Tube Beta he used the holds to brake somewhat. It was just as well, because a couple of ship-rats came around the corner, directly toward him.
    “Hey! Look out!” they called.
    Arun cursed. If he’d slowed to a more sensible speed, he could have passed easily over the heads of the crewmembers and taken the turn amidships. But he was running too hot into the junction.
    With a final push off the bulkhead, he curled into a ball and prayed for good fortune.
    He cannoned into the astonished rats, who flung up their arms at the last moment. His momentum ripped them off the walkway and sent them – arms flailing – to slam against the junction bulkhead.
    Crap! He’d only meant to bump against them to bleed off his excess momentum. Rats were so flimsy. He’d practically sent one off at lightspeed.
    Arun ignored the cries of rage while he was frantically adjusting his velocity around the junction, selecting the route to the Freak Lab.
    When he looked back, he realized that only one of the rats had shouted at him. The rat gave Arun a last twist and pull gesture with his hand before giving up and attending to his comrade who had been knocked senseless by Arun’s impact.
    He was so flekked.
    Arun sped along his way, enveloped in doubt. Very little on the ship was functioning as it should, which was just as well because he’d first stolen surveillance gear, and had now gone AWOL so he could see the purple-haired ship girl. He’d committed enough crimes to be thrown out of the airlock with extreme prejudice.
    Sooner or later, mundane functions such as equipment inventory control would return to normal and a whole army of fingers would point to his guilt. Arun was gambling that by the time that happened he’d either be a hero or dead. Possibly both.
    He built up speed.
    The rats he’d knocked flying would report him. Maybe he’d killed one. Marines all look the same to ship-rats, but despite their doped state, surely one of the Marine NCOs could be prodded into investigating.
    The situation was unreal. If this was mutiny, it was a slow-burner. It felt like a live grenade, falling under low gravity. Inoffensive for now – almost serene in its descent – but very soon it would go off, and nothing Arun could do would stop it. At least, not on his own. That was why he was pinning his hopes on his purple girl. He’d asked about her – another risk-taking. Indiya, as he’d learned she was called, had a crazy schedule. For half her time she was a member of a cryogenic team, and half was spent on special projects in a ‘freak lab’, whatever that meant.
    Her cryo-team comrades said she’d been upset. Her