Galaxy's End: Book One

by LeRoy Clary

  I watched him carefully. He hadn’t known about Bert, not the degrees that he held, and probably not that Bert is nearly a hundred years old. Not quite, but a celebration of his age was due before long. I had known that.

  Bill had never had the same sort of affection for Bert as I did. If it were up to Bill, we would have moved on long ago, leaving the cuddly ground-creature behind. I was certain that Bill was a bit jealous, and maybe he felt inferior to Bert’s intellect. If so, he needed to get over it because Bert was smarter than almost everyone. And he was family.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  Bill shrugged.

  “I’m going to look for that vendor with the flashing-green lights on his push-cart. Maybe he has some of those grilled veggie things,” I said as I stood.

  Bill didn’t offer to go along. I hadn’t expected him to. He was in a gruff mood. He had lost his sense of humor because they might be captured and sentenced to work-crews for a year or two. What a baby.

  Outside, it was still daylight. I strode toward the rear of the buildings outlined through the underbrush. Bert called from his burrow, “If you wouldn’t mind, bring me a couple of those veggie things, too.”

  He’d been listening to all we said, of course. His tall ears were incredibly sensitive, and he listened while inside his burrow. If he ever slept, I couldn’t confirm it. Perhaps it was just that its ears were so sensitive that he woke whenever I mentioned his name.

  The rear of the nondescript tavern that had seen too many brawls had a narrow alley that took me onto the gaudy main street where beings of every race mixed. I slipped in front of a Phan, which was a large snail-like creature in appearance. Underneath the protective spiraled shell lived a mollusk with dozens of small feet on short legs. Together, they moved the creature along at a reasonable pace.

  I said, “Hello,” to the Phan and walked alongside it for a block, certain it was the same one I had sat across from in a game involving predicting the numbers on a pair of rolled dice. It might still hold some of the credits it’d won from me.

  “Hello, Kath,” the Phan replied in a thin, reedy voice.

  “I’m known as Kat, these days.” My tone was as low as the underside of my feet.

  A rumbling grumble came from inside the shell, which was probably a laugh. It said, “Have you a destination?”

  “You know that flashing green street cart that sells veggies on sticks?”

  “I love those things. I was in search of a cart that boils local insect larvae, but now that you mention the veggie sticks, may I accompany you?”

  “Certainly.”

  “I heard a rumor about you coming into money this morning.”

  I paused. Did I owe the Phan a few credits and should deny the winnings? I didn’t think so but there were many I owed money to. “Word travels fast.”

  “Good or bad. Yes, I agree.”

  Ahead, a fight broke out. As with the rest of the people on the street, I could use a little free entertainment and angled closer to watch. A Scan and a Molder were wrestling in the street and a small crowd gathered.

  The Phan at my side paused and a pseudo-arm snaked out and grasped my elbow. It pulled me closer and spoke softly, for my ears only, “It may not be of concern, but danger lurks in many places these days. A being standing ahead of us is not what it is portraying itself to be.”

  “The Scan or Molder?” I asked.

  “Neither. At the edge of the crowd, there is a strange being with green hair and long legs, and it is displaying weapons.”

  My eyes found the object of the Phan’s attention. “I see it.”

  “The hair is synthetic, as is the green coloring of the skin. Legs that long are not strong enough to support the weight of the being’s trunk, arms, and head. It is a disguise.”

  The Phan and I moved aside to where we were less visible, next to a wall where a knife-maker often set up shop to sell his wares. They were not of a quality good enough to be sold closer to the center of town, but still useful to chop celery or slice hard bread. While looking surreptitiously at the green being, I used my imagination to remove the long, thick green hair, shortened the legs, and ignored the green tint of the skin. I hissed, “Human?”

  “My visual perception tells me it is a human woman in hiding.”

  “Interesting. Dressed like that, the question is why is she trying to hide her race.”

  “Perhaps she wishes to stand out, but not be recognized, which on the surface is a contradiction in terms. She is drawing almost as much attention as the fight that just ended.”

  “I can’t see her face,” I said. Knowing I should only use my empathic powers sparingly, I mentally reached out and nudged the woman, giving her the impulse to turn and look at the Phan.

  She slowly turned while wearing a growing smile. She ignored the Phan and looked directly at me. She mouthed, “Found you.”

  The green being on long legs moved quickly in my direction. She reached me in a dozen long steps, then paused and looked down on me with satisfaction. She said, again, louder this time, “Found you.”

  “Me?” I asked in what I wanted to be an innocent voice. I was confused, ready to flee, and hoped the Phan would run a little interference for me and slow her down. My left hand held the knife I’d pulled and hidden behind my leg.

  The woman in green seemed to choose her words carefully, “I fought in the arena this morning. Against a Hoot.”

  “You?”

  “And now I am here to speak with you as a friend who helped me. Have you a place where we can converse in private? Forgive me, Phan, my manners are not what they once were, however, this woman and I have a mutual business proposition to conduct. Might you excuse us?”

  The Phan turned to me, although it was hard to tell its front from its rear. “Kat? Would you like my protection, or do you wish me to withdraw?”

  I wondered how a snail in a shell was going to protect me if that was my choice. I said, “Thank you, my friend. I’ll be fine.”

  “Have you a room where we can speak?” the green woman asked.

  “A tent in the woods.”

  “That is acceptable. May we proceed?” The woman closed the front of her cloak, concealing the butts of seven deadly knives, and motioned for me to lead.

  “Who are you?” I asked, not moving a step in any direction. It was not that I was scared as much as confused, although I was both. “And why are you searching for me?”

  The woman in green squinted her eyes as if thinking of a proper response and waited for the Phan to amble away before saying in a soft tone that wouldn’t be overheard, “I’ll tell you the truth, empath. Stone is my name. Captain Stone, of the Guardia, a trading ship.”

  So much information in so few words. Some of them were direct but she relayed much more information indirectly in a brief time. It confused me more. The woman knew what I was, if not who. Now she knew who. There was no sense in attempting denial. Furthermore, I believed she had told the truth about her name and occupation, although she hadn’t said why she was searching for me.

  I waved an arm in the direction of the alley so narrow we would have to turn sideways to pass between the buildings on either side. Without hesitating, Stone went first. I noticed that she had again loosed the front of her cape for quick access to the knives. She was no fool and she was ready to fight if this was an ambush. She was ready to fight any who attacked her, including me.

  I said soothingly, “Just move right on through into the backyard.”

  Stone moved without looking back. That perhaps scared me more than if she had objected. Her confidence was supreme.

  When we were clear of the narrow space, I pointed to the patched and faded canvas material strung between three trees. “There. Sorry for the way it looks.”

  Captain Stone slowed, then turned and faced me. “I thought it might take weeks to find you. I’m sorry if I’m not as prepared for this meeting as I should be, however, let’s get a few things straight between us.”

 
; I nodded without comment.

  “I’m not here to harm you in any way and your secret is yours. I’ll never tell, no matter how our meeting turns out.”

  I nodded again, not feeling the need for words. The woman had more to say.

  Captain Stone waved an arm in the direction of the dilapidated tent. “Don’t be apologetic. I’ve lived in worse.”

  That took me by surprise. My eyes flicked to the sagging tent with the rips and patches and wondered how it could be worse.

  Stone said, “The reason I’m here is to make you an offer. Can we talk inside?”

  “My friend, Bill, is in there.”

  “Are you mated?”

  I shook my head. Then tilted my chin up as I thought about that question a little more. We might not be mated, as she asked, but we were inseparable. “We’re friends. We look out for each other. Always have.”

  “I admire that and respect it. Are you saying that whatever I offer to you will include Bill?”

  “I haven’t had time to think about it, or know what your offer might be for me, but where I go, so does Bill. I mean, you don’t have to pay him, but we’re a kind of package deal—if I accept.”

  Captain Stone gave a slight smile. “I value loyalty above almost all else, so my instincts tell me that if we work out a deal, your friend Bill will be part of it. And he will be paid for his contributions.”

  “What about me?” Bert called out from his burrow in a voice sounding hurt or offended.

  I shrugged and motioned to a hole I could crawl into located on the hillside near the entrance to our tent. “Do you have room for three in your offer?”

  “Who and what was that?”

  “Bert. I’m not sure what race he is, or sex, but since Bert is a male name, I call it he most of the time. We say he is a Digger because we don’t know any better or the name of his race. He lives in nearby burrows wherever Bill and I set up shop.”

  Stone looked puzzled. “He’s underground now? How does he know what we talked about?”

  “Very good ears. I mean, they are exceptional,” I said.

  “Thank you,” Bert replied sincerely, his voice sounding hollow as it spilled from the tunnel entrance.

  It was Stone’s turn to be confused. “Bert lives underground?”

  “Oh, yes. I forgot that part. Bert, can you come up here and meet Captain Stone, or are you too busy?”

  Bert’s voice drifted back. “Later. Right now, I’m intrigued by her and the ship called the Guardia, which seems to have gone missing a few tenths of time ago, according to the local star-port police. The wagering commission has placed a reward for knowledge of its whereabouts, and for that of Captain Stone. An interesting point, the Guardia didn’t exist until a solar year ago, yet while docked here, it purchased repair parts for a military transport ship of a kind in use a generation or two ago. An odd occurrence.”

  “Who the hell is that and how does he know all that information about me?” Captain Stone snarled. A knife suddenly appeared in each hand.

  “Relax, Captain. I told you he was very smart. Did I tell you that? Anyhow, he is. In a few tenths of time, he’ll know more about you than you do.”

  “My history had been purged by the best software scrubbers,” she said, putting the knives away. “Nobody should know those things.”

  “Including your history on the mining asteroid called Manger?” Bert asked, sounding as if he was intentionally irritating the captain.

  “How could you possibly know I was on Manger?” Stone asked more calmly, as she considered possible ways Bert could know that information. She found none. Her eyes squinted in concentration, then explained her source of confusion. “The ship had a different name back then. I never divulged my name while there, so there is no way to know that information.”

  Bert finally spoke up again, the sound of his voice emerging from another entrance to his warren, so he must have changed locations, “When you left Saffron with the yellow army on your tail, that was a logical place to go and rename your ship the Lady Empire. Knowing that, and the cargo you carried, your route was easy to trace.”

  Captain Stone’s face was so red that it threatened to turn purple but for the green makeup. She flicked the knife in her left hand, “Inside the tent. Now.”

  I walked. I tried to explain as I did, “He’ll still hear everything we say inside.”

  “The tent is too far away from that tunnel. Besides, how can he possibly know those things?”

  “Computers. He has dozens down there, I think.” I gave a weak laugh and continued moving. “And he knows how to do research, but he’s also intuitive. I suspect he wasn’t certain about you being on Manger until you confirmed it. Using that information, he probably now knows a lot more about you.” I pulled open the flap.

  Bill sat inside and raised his mug to both and said, “Drink?”

  “I could use one,” Captain Stone said, “But we have too much to talk about. In private.”

  Bert interrupted as he called out in a near panic, “Listen, I hate to keep you from doing that. I’d love to hear and enjoy an evening of stimulating conversation with Captain Stone, but ten Coliseum troopers, not the regular street police, are going to arrive here in about two-tenths of time. I suggest we all get the hell out of here.”

  “We?” Captain Stone shouted back at him.

  Bert said, “Well, you don’t think I’m going to stay here and face them alone. That’s not my style. I prefer that they don’t catch me, however, you can start any interaction with the police you’d like.”

  I asked, “Why are they coming here? Because of my unpaid gambling taxes?”

  “Possibly. Unlikely. I tend to think it is probably for the arrest of Captain Stone. Her disguise is good enough to fool most casual observers, but I think she may have dropped some DNA along the way to visit us. It is the same DNA as the gladiator who fought in the arena this morning that they are searching for. Something about cheating the betting commission. I cannot be certain, of course, because I’m terribly busy shutting down and purging my systems in preparation for fleeing.”

  I said, “Bill, we gotta get out of here.”

  We’d had to run in the past on short notice, sometimes from the police, other times from people we owed. Without argument, he said, “I heard Bert. What’re we taking with us?”

  Bert said abruptly and louder than normal, “Listen, I hate to admit it, but I was wrong about the amount of time before the troopers arrive. They are on a grav-sled instead of walking, a full squad. We should all head into the woods right now. Follow me.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Captain Stone

  She followed the odd furry creature through the thick underbrush of the forest outside the tent while wondering what she’d gotten herself into. His chubby, furry behind wobbled from one side to the other with each step, looking humorous and friendly. Then she realized that if not for that furry thing leading the way, the troopers would probably have her in custody by now. They wouldn’t have been gentle. Roma didn’t take kindly to winners who attempted to leave with their money.

  Captain Stone looked over her shoulder long enough to see that both Kat and Bill were at her heels, and the buildings at the edges of the city were no longer in view. They were deep in the forest, moving fast. Bert was bearing to his right as they traveled, a funny thought because, from the backside, Bert resembled a bear that was bearing to its right.

  She had always liked puns.

  And this was no time to be thinking of them. Forcing her odd humor aside Stone turned and followed Bert. Turning to their right would eventually take them back to the center of the city, perhaps near the arena. And that would only be a few kilometers from the only spaceport on the planet. She liked his choices, so far.

  Bert was leading them without hesitation, and she realized the odd creature probably had a plan in mind, which was more than she did. She was willing to follow his lead—for now. If she came up with a better one, the other three were on their
own. However, others seemed to trust the creature. That should mean something positive, especially coming from an empath.

  One thing about private police on a planet controlled by a gambling syndicate was they made the rules. All of them. After making them, they enforced them in any manner they chose.

  While other laws may, or may not exist on the planet, anything that interfered with those in power making money by wagering of one kind or another was serious. On a backwater planet like this, people went missing all the time, and nobody looked for them. She didn’t want to become one of them.

  Besides, her ship had departed and was on its way to Escobar Habitat. She was stuck here until she found a way off-planet.

  Looking at Bert again, an old expression came to Stone’s mind. She had poked the bear. Not Bert, but the local authorities. Her scheme of betting heavily when the odds were favorable hadn’t technically broken any laws. Yet the result would be the same if they captured her.

  Bert now had a curious, stumbling gait. He charged ahead for a dozen strides, then paused briefly before darting ahead again, sometimes in a new direction. It’s listening, she realized. Those ultra-sensitive ears were hearing sounds she couldn’t, and when he changed directions, she believed he had heard something. Perhaps the heavy footfall of a cop, a police whistle, or more likely, one Coliseum guard calling out search instructions to another.

  Her attention turned to the girl she had come for, the one now running directly in front of her. Kat was all she had hoped the girl would be—and more. Stone estimated her to be in her mid-teens, standard years. Bill about the same.

  Neither was formally educated. Both could read, that was obvious. Both knew numbers and how to bet to their advantage. They were street-smart. However, that was not enough, she realized. Both would require learning, everything from galactic history to higher math.

  There were classes they could attend on computers, of course. But unless motivated, students tended to fall behind. Many classes were boring. She believed in direct teaching and decided as she sprinted after Bert, that a condition of employment would be an agreement to attend classes taught by her crew.