In the workspace, there's the usual bustling activity. Some of the prisoners are working on spaceships. I count a total of seven. The spaceships look sleek and not particularly huge, but still, these dark grey things impress me.
From the ships, my gaze shifts to the guards, searching for someone specific, but I can't spot him. Next, I set out to find Nora.
But I needn't worry about her. The girl is standing with a group of men, engaged in lively conversation.
"Hey girl!" I'm addressed from the side. It's the Fat One who helped me and Nora. This Musator. Sweat beads run down his forehead, and he carries a large metal sheet on his shoulder. "You're always near that Time Skimmer, right?" I nod. "I just wanted to say your friend is doing well."
"Thanks again for earlier," I thank him.
"We're all in the same boat!" He winks at me. "Besides, it would be a shame to lose such nice company at the table."
I can't help but laugh.
Musator is about to leave, but I stop him.
"One question."
He turns to me curiously, eagerly listening to my query.
"Moriphos is injured, Nora has new protectors, so now I'm standing here alone and bored. Isn't there something I could do? Help you guys or something else."
"Work isn't right for a young girl like you." He gestures to the sheet he's carrying on his shoulder. It doesn't look light, you can tell without touching it. "But come with me! I'll ask someone if they can find something for you to do."
Musator walks off. I follow him past the spaceships.
"Where are you from anyway?" Musator asks me, watching me amusedly as I marvel at the machines the whole time.
"From a planet where something like this isn't commonplace, nor even possible," I reply curtly.
To me, it seems the spaceships here aren't for repair but rather for cleaning. The men around the ships seem to be only cleaning them.
Except one. The one Musator leads me to.
Only one man is working on this ship. He seems preoccupied with this thing that looks nasty. Right where he's sitting, there's a huge hole with charred edges on the ship. I presume it's a bullet hole.
The man himself wears only black pants. His muscular upper body is bare and sweaty. I can't discern the color of his hair through the orange light. Either red or a dark blond. Next to him lies a black jacket.
All in all, he looks more like a member of the station crew than a prisoner.
Musator stops in front of this ship.
"Hey boss!" he calls to the man.
"One moment," the other requests. With some sort of laser, he burns a big hole in the wall of the ship, specifically around the bullet hole. Carefully, he removes the sheet to inspect the cables underneath.
"So if this thing still flies, it's truly a miracle," he exclaims in disbelief.
He stretches briefly. Only then does the man turn to Musator. "What's up?" When his gaze falls on me, he appears puzzled and surprised. He curiously scrutinizes me for a while. I do the same.
Not only does he look great from behind, the rest is impressive too. He seems familiar to me, although I don't know where from at the moment.
"The girl here asks if she could be of assistance to us," the Fat One answers the question.
"What's your name?" the man asks me directly.
"Janine," I reply with a smile.
He starts laughing. "Pleasure, I'm Gasard."
Being a woman here is really not easy. First this guard, then the prisoners. But I am well protected.
I just hope that the opposite doesn't happen at some point. I wouldn't put it past Tosa to tell the prisoners how I'm treated here, just to see a knife shoved into my ribs.
But for now, my thoughts are only circling around whether this guard could really be Torso.
Maybe he'll answer that question for me sometime soon.