Dirty Work: Volume 2

Story Four - The Highest Bidder - 3

The place was quieter than an abandoned graveyard planet. My footsteps echoed through the long, dark halls, ever so slightly muffled by the dust coating every available surface. I caught my face in the reflection of a case. Inside it were the bows and arrows Hurrooruh had mentioned when we first arrived. They looked like they would splinter into a thousand pieces if someone dared breathe on them. Out of boredom I flicked a switch to turn on the exhibit light. The dull bronze of the arrowhead gave off a pathetic sheen, as if it wanted to be put out of its misery. I left it to its public grave.

The place was massive, far bigger than I had ever imagined. Though we hadn't expected anyone to be breaking in that night, or any night, both Markro and I thought it best to continuously pace the entire place top to bottom, almost all night long. 'And besides,' Markro had said when we were getting ready for the first shift, 'I'll stop myself wanting a drink.'

How well this highly sophisticated strategy of his was working I didn't know. What I did know was that as I wandered through the Outpost 7 exhibit, torch light shining off the figures behind the glass, I was spooking myself at every moment. Every shadow bounced around the room like a predator stalking me. I found myself reaching for the standard-issue gun they'd given me, not even an XF but some knock-off from the arse end of nowhere, every few minutes.

I forced myself to perch on a bench and take a deep breath. 'Calm down,' I said to the echoing ceiling. 'You're jumping at actual shadows. Get a damn grip.'

I considered radioing to Markro to ask him where he was, but decided against it. No need to bother him. We were guards, not highschoolers dicking around behind the fence at break time.

'Hey. Newbie.'

I picked up the walkie-talkie (strange how these things go off when you're thinking about them, isn't it?), and answered the arrogant and painful-to-listen-to Moony. 'Go ahead, Moony.'

'Come back to the break room for a bit. I'll take the shift.'

'If it's all the same, I'd like to look around a bit more. Familiarise myself with the place a lot more. Never know when it might come in handy.'

'Goddamn it, this ain't a fuckin' sightseeing trip. Get your ass back here now before I come out there and make you dance the way here doing the firearm dance.'

I wanted to bash my head against something, perhaps one of the glass cases, and be damned if the thing smashed on me. 'Got it. Coming back now. Over and out.'

I took the leisurely way back, because damn that asshole. I purposefully went the longest route I could think of, taking a detour past the staff-only storage areas round the back. Not that anything happened there. It was literally just where all the boxes were stored, with a little door for loading up the crates when they came in from somewhere the Empire had peacefully colonised by fire and thunder. But it was out of my way, and so that's where I damn well walked.

I stopped. I heard movement, and talking. Slowly slinking forward, weapon checked and primed, I proceeded down to the warehouse. The door was shut, so I peered through the keyhole. This place still used physical, little metal keys, to open doors. No chance of an electrical malfunction, I guess.

Through the murk I saw two figures standing with cigarettes in their fingers. I couldn't make out what they were saying, I was too far away, but I could tell that it wasn't anything about the recent elections. They patted a large crate that was in the centre of a loading space by the door, checked it over with a Halo-Core and ticked off a couple of menus. They hit the menu and the sides stopped shining.

They were coming my way. I backed up, looked around for somewhere to hide. I ducked into the ladies toilet and flattened myself behind the door. The gun was ready to rock n' roll.

The warehouse door banged open. 'They'll be here in twenty. They can load it themselves. Let's head back to the break room.'

It was Moony talking to one of the other guards who hadn't properly introduced himself to us because he thought he was better than us.

I waited until I couldn't hear them anymore before sneaking out of the bathroom. I slipped into the warehouse and scampered across the dark to the crate. I touched the side and the edges shimmered their Celestria blue. I tapped a menu pad and dragged a slider to make the energy walls more translucent.

Inside it were stashed a dozen paintings. I couldn't open the box, but I recognised one of the frames. Looking a little closer, I could make out enough of the artwork from one of the paintings and saw that this was the new, highly valuable work that the boss wanted us to look over.

I got my Halo-Core. 'Markro,' I whispered. 'Warehouse asap. I've got something. And make sure you're not followed.'