Gauntlet - Michael Jan Friedman [85]
AS OBAL WORKED OUT with a set of weights in the ship’s gymnasium, he reflected on how happy he was.
He had pleased Lieutenant Joseph with his work in the shuttlebay. And if Lieutenant Joseph was pleased, Obal was pleased. In fact, he was smiling to himself when he heard a hiss and saw the doors to the gym slide apart.
They revealed someone in exercise togs. Someone tall and muscular. Someone obviously human.
Caber, he thought.
The ensign didn’t notice the Binderian right away. He was too intent on something, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. In fact, he was halfway to the parallel bars when he seemed to realize that there was someone else in the room.
Caber turned to see who it was. When he caught sight of Obal, a grin spread across his face. A cruel grin, if the Binderian was any judge of such things.
The human stood there for a second, staring across the room. Then, like a predator who has caught the scent of his prey, he started in Obal’s direction.
The Binderian wasn’t surprised. Caber had taken advantage of every opportunity to ridicule and belittle him. Why would he miss out on this one?
Obal eased his weights to the ground and sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to the abuse that was sure to follow. He wasn’t eager to be humiliated again. However, he had tolerated his treatment to this point for the sake of decorum—and, for the sake of decorum, he would continue to do so.
His superiors had more important things to do than mediate petty differences between crewmen. Obal was determined not to be a burden to them. He would endure whatever he had to for as long as he had to.
And eventually, Caber’s hostility would wane. At least, that was the Binderian’s plan.
But as the human approached him, the curl in his lip seemed to undercut Obal’s expectations. “Imagine finding you here,” he spat.
The Binderian didn’t say anything at all. He just stood there, stoic and uncomplaining.
“Nothing to say?” Caber laughed. It was a short, ugly sound without any humor in it. “Funny, you seemed to have plenty to say when we were in security.”
Seeing he hadn’t gotten a reaction, the human bent down and poked a rigid forefinger into Obal’s bony chest.
“Where the hell do you get off telling me what to do?” he demanded through clenched teeth. “Where does a squirt like you get the gall to lord it over someone like me?”
The Binderian’s chest hurt where he’d been poked, but he managed to remain silent.
It only made Caber that much angrier. “You don’t even have the guts to stand up for yourself. You think you deserve to give orders to people who do?”
Again he poked Obal in the chest. This time, it was all the Binderian could do to keep from crying out.
“Why don’t you find yourself another ship?” Caber demanded, his saliva striking Obal in the face. “One where they like taking orders from skinny little cowards?”
Another poke, stabbing deep into the Binderian’s flesh. His eyes watered from the pain, but he kept it to himself.
“You hear me?” Caber snapped, his voice echoing, his eyes mere inches from Obal’s. “You get your scrawny butt off this ship or I’ll make you wish you had!”
As the gym doors slid open, Nikolas caught sight of Caber. He was about to offer an excuse for his lateness when he realized that his friend wasn’t alone.
Obal was with him. And it looked as if Caber were trying to ram his forefinger right through the Binderian’s anatomy.
“You hear me?” Caber snarled, either oblivious to Nikolas’s presence or purposely ignoring it.
“Hey, Joe!” Nikolas snapped. He loped across the gym to intervene before the situation could deteriorate any further. “Come on, leave the poor guy alone!”
Caber didn’t respond. Instead, he poked Obal in his scrawny chest again and said, “Get lost—and I mean now!”
Nikolas felt a spurt of anger. Obviously, his roommate had let his feelings about the Binderian run amok. Grabbing Caber’s arm, he spun him around.
“You can’t do that,” Nikolas told him, meeting his friend’s red-rimmed gaze with equal intensity. “He’s a crewman on this ship, just like you and—”
Before he