Drago: Into The Fire

TWO

2/5

Later that night, Ben was given a private room on the ship. It wasn't big or fancy, just a wall berth, a desk and a dresser below a portal window. Everything was clean but slightly worn. Ben didn't mind. He never had a room to himself before. Late that night, after dinner, Ben was still hungry, so he got up and tiptoed out to the front room to find some snack foods left out.

Fang tweeted from his perch high in the top of the ship.

"Shhh," Ben whispered putting his finger to his lips. Fang tilted his metal head, gesturing to the locked cabinet where Drago kept his treats. He was bargaining. He would be quiet only if given treats.

Not wanting to be caught, Ben went over and opened the cabinet. The bird fluttered in a flurry of excitement, to get at the little metal bits in a bowl.

Finding a bag of dried fruit chips, Ben grabbed it and hurried back to his room.

Day and night is impossible to tell from space, except for the fact in morning, everyone is awake. Ben woke up with a start when something dropped in the room. The empty fruit bag slid off the desk and hit the floor. He closed his eyes for a few more moments then reopened them to remember he was no longer on his planet. He was hovering in orbit above it. He jumped from his bed to look out the window at his home world slowly turning below. His hand reached to touch the window, covering a ringed moon hanging in the horizon, with his hand. The shades of greens and blues mixed in with swirls of colored clouds. The rings looked like large arches of light bands keeping the orb corralled in one place.

When Ben arrived at the front room, a new guy he hadn't met yet was busy making breakfast.

"Morning," The man smiled. "Hope you're hungry."

Ben sat down to watch him cook.

"I'm Cyrus, Drago's assistant," The man with an apron tied around him said.

"I'm Ben," Ben said watching the man frying slices of brown meat on a hissing black surface.

"I don't feel sorry for you," Drago's voice rang from the other room where he stood over a large wooden desk littered with papers and flat digital screens. He was looking at a very puffed up round metallic ball that stood on his desk flapping its useless blades. It was Fang.

Ben slid off his chair and went over to watch Fang try to fly but fall back onto the desk.

"Is he ok?" Ben asked watching the clearly bloated automaton bird.

"He got into the pebbles and ate them all," Drago said over the sad bird on his desk. Ben looked down. Fang squeaked in obvious discomfort. "Well it's your own fault for being such a glutton." Drago added. He picked up the expanded metal bird and put him into a wire cage to rest. "We'll have Nebula fix you when she gets back."

"Ben," Drago said. He went back to his desk. "I wanted to ask you a few questions before I leave." Drago motioned for him to sit down in the chair in front of the desk. "Do you know how to read and write?" Drago asked holding a stylus and thin transparent tablet.

The boy nodded yes.

Drago handed him the tablet. "I need to know your daily routine in your compound. What time did you wake up, begin work, take any breaks, meals? That sort of thing."

Ben looked down at the tablet. He just stared at it. Writing down his whole life on an electronic screen seemed so impersonal.

Drago noticed his hesitation.

"Do you know how to work the stylus?" Drago asked.

Ben looked up at the large man with machine parts.