by S. J. Higbee
“Rock steady, now,” I muttered, trying for friendly eye contact and receiving hard stares in return.
Someone shouted something I couldn’t catch. Whatever it was passed for wit down here, as it was followed by an explosion of noisy laughter and a fusillade of crude comments from the rabble clustered around the graffiti-covered alco-bars that lined the square.
“Need to redshift our bods back up to Trader Level,” muttered Alisha, treading on my heels.
“Easy.” I needed to close down this conversation before my companions talked themselves into doing something stupid. Like being the least bit afraid. These dreggers will smell fear quicker than a miner probe can tag a seam.
“Makes you feel all warm’n fuzzy, does it? Handing out your pocket-change to our nippers?” snapped a pale-faced girl.
I raised my hands, palms out. “Hey, no harm meant, miss.”
“For sure,” Jessica added, solid at my side.
The dreggers closing in looked even more sullen. A man snaked his rank-smelling arm around my shoulders. “And where d’you call home, flower-face?”
Don’t stiffen. Remember to smile. He’s human, same as me. Even if he doesn’t smell it. “Service Level,” I lied. “Reckon we’ve taken a couple’ve wrong turns.” I had to breathe through my mouth at the blasts of foul air he exhaled.
“I could put you right. For a price.” His grin looked like something out of a horrorholo.
“Thank you, but I’m sure we can find our own way back.” I tried to ease away.
His arm stayed firmly across my shoulders. “Nah. We can’t have you girlies wandering round here. Who knows what might happen?”
A tow-headed teenager welded to Bilge-Breath’s other side sniggered.
“We can take care of ourselves.” Jessica didn’t hide her irritation as she jostled my elbow, plunging her hand into her jacket pocket. “You gonna bounce this prodder off the walls with your ninja biz?” she breathed in my ear. Sonja and Alisha bunched up behind her, facing outwards, immediately defensive.
I tried to quell their twitchiness with a quick shake of my head. The Cap will break orbit if he hears we drew our weapons down here. Or start a fight we can’t win.
“You wouldn’t’ve come zoo-gazing down here in the first place if you an’ your up-swept friends weren’t so prodding stupid,” snapped Pale Girl.
An answering mutter of agreement rustled through the gang and the knot in my gut tightened.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Ignorance is such a comfort – once I’d completed the first book, Running Out of Space, I blithely imagined that getting the subsequent two books in the series finally ready to be published would be easier. It isn’t. There is now a certain expectation that wasn’t there before.
Once again, my writing buddies, Sarah Palmer, Katie Glover, Debbie Watkins and Geoff Alnutt, aka The Speechpainter, have stepped up and provided advice on matters such as plotting and characterisation – as well as helping to track down those pesky ellipses, dashes and commas that infest my manuscript when I’m not looking. Not to mention providing builder-strength tea and sympathy when it isn’t going well – lots and lots of tea… Huge thanks to Mhairi Simpson, who as well as being plot-wrangler and story advisor, has also become my marketing maven – thanks to her, I actually know what the initials AMS mean.
A new member of the team has been slaving away helping to ensure Breathing Space is as free from mistakes as I can make it – my lovely sister, Mona, has recently moved into the area. It turns out she is brilliant at spotting bloopers and better still, is happy to line edit my manuscripts. Thank you – I’ve dedicated this one to you. I’m thrilled you’ve enjoyed reading the series and are so supportive of my writing.
Next, it comes down to my backstop. The one who finds himself staring at the back of my head as I commune with my computer. Who provides endless cups of tea, which often are left cooling as I mumble my thanks without even looking up at him… Who cooks and cleans in between working at the job which pays the bills and provides a roof over our head. I couldn’t do this without him and I can’t thank him enough – indeed, I often don’t… my rock, my hero, my husband.
And lastly, I have been writing for longer than I care to think – the new bit is getting feedback from readers. It’s a delight to hear your thoughts on Lizzy and the people in her world. Thank you so much for reading the books, particularly to those of you who have taken the time and trouble to leave a rating or review – they matter hugely to authors in the process of establishing themselves. While I have now completed this trilogy, Lizzy will be returning. I’ve grown far too fond of her to just let her wander off into the sunset with Wynn at her side…
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born the same year as the Russians launched Sputnik, I confidently expected that by the time I reached adulthood, the human race would have a pioneer colony on the Moon and be heading off towards Mars. So I was at a loss to know what to do once I realised the Final Frontier wasn’t an option and rather lost my head - I tried a lot of jobs I didn’t like and married a totally unsuitable man.
Now I've finally come to terms with the fact that I’ll never leave Earth, I have a lovely time writing science fiction and fantasy novels as well as teaching Creative Writing at Northbrook College in Worthing. I live in Littlehampton on the English south coast with a wonderful husband and a ridiculous number of books.
Griffinwing Publishing