Condition Evolution 4 by Kevin Sinclair (books for 10th graders TXT) 📕

“We will not allow this to happen. If not Rufus, then you must put Astrid in charge,” one of them said with a vicious gleam in his eyes. “Even Ogun makes more sense than following you.”

I was taken aback by his vehemence, though it was a little empowering to see pretty much everyone cast angry looks at the speaker.

“Why wouldn’t you follow me?”

“You’re just the girlfriend. It's hardly a reason for you to be in charge,” the man said with a twisted grin.

It was my turn to be dumbfounded. Mick was standing near to the speaker and replied to him before I could respond. “You’re miles off, dude. Ember and Shaun are a team. Now you need to shut your goddamn mouth before I shut it for you.”

The other guy puffed up, looking ready for a fight with Mick.

“Stop it! This won’t deteriorate into fighting. Thank you for your support, Mick, but let’s keep it calm if we can.”

Calegg spoke next. “I can confirm without any doubt, Ember embodies Uprising every bit as much as Shaun. I joined them both, not long after you lot left them to die on that planet.”

“I too have been extremely shocked by how little you seem to understand the foundations of Uprising,” Elyek said, a rare hint of anger to their words. “You let ignorance navigate your actions. That is unwise.”

“Look,” he said angrily, “I don’t need no bloody aliens telling me how things are. You're all just along for the ride. We humans are the ones who hold the real power here.”

For fuck’s sake, I thought, but asked him calmly, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Graeme,” he answered and then made a point of spitting on the floor defiantly.

“Well, Graeme, with an attitude like that, I can promise you, you’re fucking done with Uprising,” I replied angrily while I jumping down from the podium. “Who agrees with him?”

The other four musclebound pricks nodded grimly, the contempt for me written plainly on their faces.

I walked right up to them, and they all towered over me. “You do know, if Shaun was here, I'd have to talk him out of killing you, don’t you? Luckily, that's not how we do things,” I added, “but you are no longer welcome among us, if this is your attitude.”

From the podium Ogun spoke. “I agree with your sentiment, Ember, and I am moved to see you leading without temper. Would you like me to arrange for them all to sleep for a time until you’ve decided what to do with them more permanently?”

The four men paled at that ominous warning from Ogun, looking to each other, and then to Rufus, still paralyzed.

“As much as I hate the idea of doing this to them, they’ve left us no choice,” I said loudly so everyone could hear. “Our success rests, more than ever, on how we all pull together, and these racist fuck nuggets are only intent on causing disruption.”

The one called Graeme suddenly lunged at me. A big meaty fist coming for my face. It was easy enough to avoid, but he committed the most basic of mistakes. He’d overextended, which left him wide open to my counter. With every bit of speed and strength that I possessed, I punched the meathead, dead center on his dinner detector. He tried in vain to block the blow but had no chance. His nose exploded in a cloud of blood as he staggered backwards, looking like a drunk trying desperately to keep his feet. Too bad.

I followed with a jump over ten feet into the air, assisting the height with levitation, before coming down at speed to land a kick into his chest. He went down this time, groaning, curled up in a ball. Standing over him, I spat my next words, “I am not weak, and I am not just the girlfriend. I am one of the leaders of the Uprising. And if you can’t fucking listen to me, then you’re done,” I said, feeling remarkably calm after my demolition of him. I turned to Ogun. “Can you now, please, put them to sleep? We will deal with them later.”

“Of course, Ember.” He smiled at me and moved to sort the assholes out. Meanwhile, I spoke to everyone else.

“Understand that this isn’t what I wanted to go down. We’re supposed to be a family. Now can we all stick the fuck together and sort this shit out, please?” I said, hands out in a conciliatory gesture.

A sound of a single person clapping started, and I followed the sound to see William with a wide grin in his big red beard. “You’ll do fer me, lassie!” he shouted. The clap was taken up quickly by Mick and Gus, then others, spreading through the crown of bodies until it seemed everyone was applauding me. Throughout this whole endeavor since waking here, this was the most uncomfortable aspect of the whole thing. Fucking weirdos, clapping at me, piling on the pressure and responsibility.

Chapter 8

Tools of the Trade

After the drama of the past few hours, my head was in bits and I was more than happy to let Elyek, Calegg, Ogun, and in particular Acclo, arrange and plan whatever needed to be done. Between them any ideas were quickly assessed, butchered like a carcass, and divided into manageable parts.

Soon nearly everyone had left the hall to search the station for FSUs and anything else of use they could find. And we had few crew members who I trusted to watch over the unconscious prisoners. Our alpha team, with Ogun filling in for Shaun, decided to take on the large double doors behind the podium in the hall. Gus, Elyek and Ogun had been fiddling with the panel at the side of the doors for a while, and we gave them time to work, but ultimately, they couldn’t get it to open.

“Damn, Ember,” Gus said, looking forlorn, “it's like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It doesn’t look like it should