CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The next morning Mike ached as if all his muscles had just run a marathon.

Joe said, “You should stay in bed.”

“I’ve got to negotiate with another supplier today.”

“I know. I’ve got all the black market stuff ready to go. Should we try using the medical kit on you?”

“Let’s wait until we have to deal with a real emergency. They’re set to your anatomy and physiology. They might not harm me, but we don’t know what they’ll do. I should be okay. I’ll get ready for the negotiations, and then I’ve got my digging quota to get done.”

Each delivery, Mike met with the central government’s official representative. Joe did black market deals and made contact with any spies or friendly representatives to try and get more of the things they desperately needed. Joe had some success. More than Mike did with the official reps. Except Nek, the others stuck rigidly to the rules. Mike suspected they were monitored both coming and going.

That morning, as he walked down the halls and past the groups of workers, he thought the men looked at him differently. He passed Cak on the ramp up. Cak sneered and muttered under his breath like a teenager in his room after being reprimanded.

Mike ignored him and smiled and said good morning as usual to all of them.

Up at the communications rooms, he got set to talk to the captain of the supply ship. Brux bustled in and said, “I’ve never been in the presence of a hero.”

Mike said, “All I did was stand there.”

“My dear, you have been transferred to god-like status.”

“I’m not…”

“I know that.”

“They looked at me differently this morning.”

“Respect, my dear. For power and might. And you saved them. They are grateful.”

Mike said, “I’ve got work to do.”