125 CHAPTER 124 LORD VUDGA

Matt steadied the anorak on his shoulders, burying his head into the hood as much as he can. He hated everything about the disguise, but that was the only link he had at the moment. If he fails to play along, these pink creatures would break their own end of the bargain and might decide that he was a liability.

So far he had held them on the edge, saying little about Anadan, but more alluring that they yearned for more. He wanted to keep it that way, for the time being at least. If they were foolish enough to bring him to Ham, then he might just disappear before their insane head discover what was happening.

Disappear. The thought chimed in his head and resounded like a loud bell. Coming into Nebula was easy enough. But the thought of getting out made him want to cuddle in a corner and cry out his lungs. How could he have known the way in, but not the way out? There was no radial or anything to point the way. As far as he was concerned, everything looked normal and natural—but for the pinky creatures and the wasteland of course. Crux hadn't said a thing about that, and Matt doubts if the egoistic man knew anything about finding a way out of Nebula. He was the first person to have ever used Nebula successfully, which means nobody actually knows a detailed instruction or pattern that could wave him out of this machine.

He shifted his lips to the edge of his mouth, hoping that would keep the dread from surfacing. Chris will find a way, he is a genius. Matt consoled himself. Maybe they might decide that he had stayed long enough and decide to pull off the plugs. That might way him up from this fantasy or whatever it is.

"Move it, human. We don't have all day."

Matt looked over his shoulders, to the pink and black face of a Mien, who looked twice as large as Xerta, put together. His shoulders were broad, like a wide pan, and covered with the rough face of muscles. He too was in a white jumpsuit or what was supposed to be white, for the cloth was covered with unearthed soot, faded over his stomach and arms, but spreading their ugly face all over his feet and shoulders.

"Easy, bro," Matt grumbled and looked away, increasing his pace to meet with the others ahead. He had been so carried away with his thoughts that he hadn't realized how slagging he was making the line. 

He caught with the others, just in time before the first Miens started down the metallic stairs. They had walked out of the spaceship and were filing through the mouth of a brown door, standing on the sands in a lonely area. Another Miens whom Matt did not know his name took the lead, making them go through what seemed to be a tunnel. 

Xerta was frowning as he asked the Captain why they had chosen the route, but the Captain, standing some paces away from the rear, only muttered a few words. Xerta seemed unhappy by the Captain's response, but he made no further fuss and continued on, with his hands resting on the belt of his white jumpsuit. Unlike the Keepers in Anadan, who walked about with their weapons strapped on their belts. The Mien did things a little differently. They always keep their weapons out of sight, but close enough to reach when the situation calls for it.

They rounded a bend, walking further into the tunnel whose lights were hanging on their edge, oscillating freely from the wind that was setting in and giving out a dim gold light. The polished black metallic wall reflected the light, but poorly enough to give grace to their view. It was a flaunting of wealth. The designs and the patterns on the walls said it all. But it was strange to Matt, however. This was a tunnel, for Christ's sake. Who spends so much money on something that was used less frequently. Unless this place was only used for emergencies. That must be the only explanation. 

Xerta seemed to fall behind, but he picked his pace when his husky features came to Matt. They were walking abreast now.

"How many people are in your world?" His voice echoed, blending with their footfalls.

"Many," Matt said, hoping the man would drop the topic already. 

"Define many," Xerta pressed on, looking at him now.

"That's not how it works." Matt said, searching his head for the perfect excuse, "The deal was scratch my back and I scratch your back. Isn't it?"

Xerta exchanged a disturbing gaze with Boze, who kept on walking from the rear. He didn't say a thing, probably uninterested or thinking of other ways to discharge Matt if he fails to find Ham. 

Matt licked his lips. Boze was crafty and would do anything to save himself. He is messing with the wrong guy. Came the soft voice in Matt's head, making him smile. He would play along. He would play the fool. The ball would fall in his court soon, and he would strike them with all his might. For the time being…

"What is the meaning of that expression?"

"Seriously? I thought you guys said the Miens have a high intelligent quotient?"

"In matters relating to the Miens. Not some words invented by some alien."

Matt scoffed but hid them under a cough. He was not the one with the painted skin, yet they kept on calling him alien. If this were to be Anadan, then all the Miens would be inside a cylinder, or under close surveillance, in a place where they would be examined thoroughly. They also claimed to know everything, yet the true fact was that they know nothing. That was his leverage, too. Boze and Xerta think they are smart. He would play the fool while their proposed wisdom takes the lead. In the end, he would be laughing at them while they weigh their ways on a weighing balance.

"What I am trying to say is that I have answered most of your questions since we left the ship. But the deal was that you help me find my friend and I will tell you what you want to know."

Boze muttered something in Olic. Matt had not heard him clearly, but what use would that even been. He had refused to learn Olic, and now he was paying the price.

"We are searching for your friend, aren't we?" Xerta asked.

One of the crews ahead also said something in Olic, as if in response to Xerta's question. Matt found himself being uncomfortable. If the Miens were planning something evil against him, they would certainly succeed if they continue in the dialect.

"Who knows?" Matt shouted, "For all I care, you might be taking me to a dungeon or to someplace where my head would be separated from my shoulders."

"Watch your tongue alien," Boze's voice resounded on the walls and the other Miens stopped in their wake, turning their attention to face them. The choirs of eyes followed Boze as he walked towards Matt. 

"You will not raise dust on my words in front of my men," The man said. The vein under his chin was twitching, and Matt could see the anger burning under the dark pupil.

"Oh, but how do I know you are true to your words? How?"

"I am Boze," The man beats his chest, "I am a Miens and the Captain of Sky dancer. When I give you my word, I give you my word. I don't break them until they have been fulfilled."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I know people who have made deals before and break them even before it started. How do I know you are not one of them?"

"I am a Mien." The Captain roared and Matt backed away. The radiant in the captain's eyes were burning now, and Matt was sorry that he was the one that was making the man's skin change from pink to red.

"We don't break a deal. We seal them with our words, and I promise you with the life of my men. No hurt shall come to you. We shall find your friend and you will tell us about your world."

"And after that?" Matt pushed. He was afraid too, but he kept his voice firm, not giving the creature the satisfaction. "What happens after our deal has been met?"

Boze's eyes seemed to change from anger to confusion. He clearly had not thought of that part or was keeping that end of the deal to execute the evil within his pinky heart.

"We will make a new deal when we get to that part."

"A new deal?" Matt laughed, "is that the part where—

"Captain," someone called, and all heads turned to the direction ahead, "Lord Vudga is ready to me you now,"

"Very well," The Captain grunted. He looked at Matt before nodding at the others to continue moving.