Galaxy's End: Book One

by LeRoy Clary

  “Please raise the same if you wish to take command of this ship. I’ll gladly surrender it.”

  When there were no votes in her favor, the woman spun and stormed from the galley.

  Stone went on, “Any more questions?”

  “How sure are you of the pirates doing that? Shooting at us, I mean.” The question came from a meek little man-like creature near the rear of the room.

  “Not sure at all, sir. I can only express my opinion. Three ships were chasing us back there, and we were fired on. Also, we’ve proven the Champers who worked in the communications room had taken a bribe from them and was routing us right into their path. It relayed our route to them so they could intercept and board.”

  A short being dressed in a flowing gown said, “They were not after me, I assure you.”

  Captain Stone smiled. It was a point well made. She said, “I do not know who or what they were after, however, I want you to think about something for a moment. Imagine they had boarded us and either killed or kidnapped whoever they were after. Now comes the hard part. Do you believe they would have allowed any witness—that means you—to survive?”

  The short woman gave a firm nod and said, “Point taken. Seen in that light, everyone on this ship owes you their lives. I thank you. Any support you wish from me will be granted.”

  Stone couldn’t have paid the woman enough to express those words. The feeling in the room was as if the stale air had bled out and then suddenly reintroduced with spring-fresh air. Passengers were smiling. Their expressions had transformed into ones of support.

  A few stepped cautiously closer and shook her hand, patted her shoulder, or made other gestures of thanks. She managed to slip out into the passageway and walked away as if she had just solved a huge problem.

  At the door to the bridge, she paused and tried to spin the wheel to open the eight locks that kept it airtight. The wheel turned perhaps an inch before halting. She pushed the entry button and felt certain that someone inside examined the video screen before allowing her to enter. It was that way on all ships.

  “Captain on the bridge,” Fang growled.

  “At ease,” she instinctively repeated the old response. Bill and Fang were alone. She said, “Bert, are you with us?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Our killer was a crewman. You can narrow your search to only them.”

  “I came to the same conclusion a few tenths of time ago. Only crewmen are allowed on the bridge. Is that the same thing you realized?”

  “It is. The Champers could not leave the com-room without drawing attention. The First Officer would be the obvious choice, but that position is held by a Pisidian, and they are part of a hive mentality, although removed by generations. By definition, they cannot lie or kill.”

  “Agreed. I have also ruled out the cargo master.”

  “Why?”

  “Age. He is over the age of most of his race, and he is ill. He has been for some time. The ship’s captain had no real need for a cargo master and kept him on because of a long-term friendship. He has been in his stateroom praying for his departed friend since we found him. I assure you the prayers and tears are genuine.”

  “That leaves us with engineers and those stewards providing service to the passengers.”

  Bert said, “As we departed, the coils storing energy were leaking, so both engineers were busy in the engine room performing emergency maintenance. It was not a fundamental problem, but the replacement of two primary coils is a lengthy task and requires two people. I can account for their presence the entire time.”

  “I see. How many stewards, cleaners, and other passenger-function personnel do we have?”

  “Six.”

  Captain Stone had been standing. Now, she sat in the chair only occupied by the commander of the vessel. It felt right. Instead of soft, it was firm. The material looked and felt like leather, which might offend some people and races, but she’d found there seemed to be no substitute material that met the same standards.

  Her mind was working full time. They had eliminated all passengers and most of the crew. Things were going to get hairy, as her First Mate often said. Why complex matters were considered “hairy” remained unknown to her. In this case, she understood.

  They would either find the killer or not. If they did, the next problem became preventing suicide or self-death so they could question that being. Before making accusations, she wanted to know who it was and have at least two trusted people at her side to try apprehending him or her.

  “Can you eliminate any of them?”

  “Tentatively, two.”

  “How certain are you those two are innocent?”

  Bert said, “I couldn’t bet your life on it. Not yet.”

  She thought a moment and said, “We could lock up the remaining four.”

  “Or we could remain vigilant for a while longer and see if I can find which of them it is.”

  Captain Stone tore her eyes away from the speck of flaking paint on the ceiling that had been her center of concentration. Bert was earning her trust in a manner no other had. Not in her lifetime.

  She turned to Fang. “What do you have to say?”

  He bared his rows of tiny shark-teeth and said, “Two things. First, there is no ship within the detection range of us. I believe we got away and they have no way to track us.”

  “The other thing?”

  “I need sustenance. Any insects will do. I’ve been watching that delicious little spider spinning a web on the corner behind you but cannot leave my post without the captain’s permission.”

  She detected a glint of humor in the voice. Most aliens had little or no sense of humor. She said, “I’ll take the command while you go eat. Do not allow a steward to prepare your food or drink, as you probably have surmised. Check on Kat, quietly. Remain near her door.”

  Fang crawled to the edge of the seat and slipped over the side, his tiny claws puncturing the material to provide grips and he lowered himself. Once on the floor, he walked-hopped to the hatch and waited for her to open it.

  He said, “I was going to suggest I watch over her. We are like a crew. Or team. Five of us.”

  She let him out and replaced the locking pin. Fang was right. It felt like the five of them were against the universe and those odds didn’t bother her at all. Bill had a computer screen up and was tracking ductwork on a ship. He was calculating airflow at intersections and filling in the answer in a blank. A test. He was taking a test.

  She surreptitiously looked over his shoulder. It was a quiz from the beginning of an engineering maintenance manual. She fought to keep the smile contained.

  Her eyes drifted to the spider in the corner. Fang would eat it sooner or later. She suspected Fang ate his weight in insects in a month.

  A small red blip on a computer screen drew her attention. It was there, and then it wasn’t.

  Had she imagined it?

  She checked the display’s name and made certain it revealed any ships within a standard sphere. She settled back in the chair, her eyes roaming the readouts, displays, and visual indicators, however every few seconds she glanced back at the place where the red dot may have existed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kat

  I’d finally decided that Kat was the perfect name for me, after all. Quick. Sharp. Descriptive words that told of how fast I moved. Far better than bird-like. Others had also called me flighty which sort of fit my actions but sounded disrespectful and weak. I preferred quick. Cautious to nervous. My list could go on.

  My body had changed in the last year or two. Where my legs and arms had been too long and unstable, ungainly a few told me, the rest of myself had finally caught up. The additional weight made my legs and arms appear normal. I still couldn’t catch a ball thrown my way, I tripped on shadows, and sprinting was beyond my abilities. I could run awkwardly, with my knees rising too high and too slow to be a sprint.

  However, the added bulk had centered in my backside a
nd my walk must have changed substantially because men began looking at me there instead of at my face. Yes, some looked at my chest, but the loose clothing concealed my small breasts. My rear end was not.

  Women looked at Bill and his chest. I found myself scowling when they did. They didn’t even know him or what his personality was, and they lusted after him. Thank goodness I was there to keep him out of trouble.

  Within a few heartbeats of mental stress, I was asleep as if I’d taken a hit on my head. When I opened my eyes again, the pressure and headache that had plagued me after the incident with the pirates were thankfully absent. I felt almost normal. Both had occurred as I had sent out a sense of fear. It had built inside my head like my brain was growing too large for my skull.

  That had never happened before. Or had it? Bill had once told me that I was cranky after using my empathic skills. One thing was certain; I’d never concentrated that hard or been so scared.

  Fang was waiting in the passageway a with flipper full of dehydrated insects, each as long as my middle finger. They crunched as he chewed. He had a portable mist unit and fan set up beside him and on the other side was a black rectangular object in plain sight. It was a taser. Not the civilian model seen at local stores, but the one issued to the highest levels of law enforcement. On the side were the settings in easy reach of a thumb, tentacle, or flipper.

  The lower settings were for smaller beasts, intelligent or not. The higher ones disrupted electrical impulses throughout the body, including the brain. A mistake in power settings resulted in death.

  “Is that a threat?” I asked, nodding at the evil taser beside him. I didn’t believe he’d placed it there by accident.

  “A promise to everyone on this ship. They will be respectful and allow you to sleep as long as your mind and body demand.”

  I snorted with laughter.

  He didn’t.

  I said, “Well, you can relax. I’m awake now.”

  He reached for the taser and concealed it in a hidden holster under his belly. I wondered if it had always been there. If so, he’d allowed Captain Stone to take his credit chip when he could have drawn the weapon and prevented it.

  “Problems?” he asked perceptively.

  I hesitated, then plunged onward, “You’ve had that thing with you all the time, right?”

  “I’m small. For that reason, some believe they can abuse me.”

  “Not my point, Fang. You allowed us to capture you, knowing that at any time you could pull your taser and be free. My question is why.”

  Fang’s smile looked evil with the rows of jagged teeth and the remnants of partially eaten insects visible. “There is a story from my youth. I’ll try to tell you the basics in terms you will understand.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “There was once a man who chased a dog until he caught up to it and was bitten.”

  Not a remarkable story. But short. I saw the point. “You’re the dog.”

  Fang shrugged.

  I went on, “You didn’t bite.”

  “I was going to. However, there is a difference between the four of you and the other intelligent beings I meet that I appreciated. Each of you is unique, that is clear. However, there is a connection, a love if you will allow me to use that word. I wanted to share that closeness—to be one of you. I wanted that more than the offered reward.”

  His confession had come in stutters and hesitations. Instinctively, I believed him. If the words had spilled forth smoothly, they would have sounded false. I sat with my back to the wall and allowed the ideas and thoughts to spill over me as if it were raining and the drops of water falling were innovative ideas.

  I didn’t speak, nor did I have to. My eyes were unfocused. Fang had given me far more to consider than his bare words, as he had hinted in his little one-sentence story. There were meanings and implications hidden behind the words, and my mind tried to unjumble them.

  He could have taken us as his captives instead of the other way around. His interactions with us since then showed he was researching us as much as we were him. Both sides wanted something of the other.

  He wanted to be part of us—whatever that was. I didn’t know what we were. While the three of us had been together for years, Stone had only come into our lives a couple of days ago. Fang shortly after. We wanted a future together.

  I said, “We just met Captain Stone a few days ago. It isn’t fair to call us a unit or whatever term you used.”

  “And yet, you have integrated and assimilated her into your core group.”

  “She integrated herself,” I corrected.

  “That is untrue,” Fang replied without animosity or hostility. He was simply stating a fact as he knew it.

  I reconsidered my standpoint and found he might be right. At any point, the three of us could have resisted her friendship, yet we had accepted her generosity as repayment for helping her escape. After all, the Coliseum police were after her, not us.

  We had placed ourselves in jeopardy for leading her to safety. That begged the question of why we had done it. Turning her away with a warning of the approaching grav-sled would have been more than kind. But we had gone with her.

  If she had been caught, we all would have. So, why had we risked our freedom and possibly our lives to escape with her? We were still in jeopardy today, and now we had managed to include every being on the ship.

  Maybe the answer lay in Fang’s words. I said, “Why were you willing to give up the reward for the chance of joining us? I mean, we’re not an organization or society. We’re just friends who met a new friend.”

  “You are far more than that but have yet to realize it. Yes, I was, and am, willing to forego the substantial reward offered to remain with the four of you. Hopefully, I will integrate myself with your group.”

  I snorted softly and noticed him flinch and withdraw a little. He needed an explanation of my action. “It seems to me you have already become one of us. I haven’t discussed it with the others, but don’t think I have to. Welcome to the family.”

  He snorted much as I had, and a spray of snot hit my forearm. I left it there.

  We sat in silence for a long while.

  Concealed speakers came to life. “Fang, can you please join us on the bridge right away?”

  It was Captain Stone's voice. We leaped to our feet and raced to the hatch. I pushed the button and the door opened almost instantly. Inside, Bill and Stone looked at the monitors mounted on the walls instead of us.

  Bill said, “Lock the door behind you.”

  He sounded like Captain Stone issuing orders, abrupt, and expecting to be obeyed. He stood erect, his shoulders back, and there was an air of confidence I’d rarely seen.

  Fang said, “What’s happening?”

  Captain Stone answered without ever taking her eyes off the monitor. “Twice, I’ve seen a flash of red on the screen, at the very edge, as if a ship is following us at extreme range. Maybe coming into range now and then just enough for our equipment to detect it. From the position, it seems to be directly behind.”

  Fang said flatly, not asking a question, “You think it has more sensitive equipment and is following.”

  “That’s my idea. Longer range sensors would allow it to detect us while we can’t detect it, unless if moves too close,” she said. “But this ship had good equipment, better than most.

  Fang said, “Are you listening, Bert?”

  “Of course,” the response came from the speakers.

  “Then, see what you can find out about how to increase the sensitivity of our array if such a thing is possible. I already have a few ideas,” Fang said as he climbed to the command chair. He began tapping buttons and speaking in words and phrases that sounded alien but were computer-talk. I recognized some of the words but not in the context that he used them. He was changing parameters and options on the software.

  Fang looked up. The monitor image shimmied and settled with the new instructions. There was no red dot. He issued more instr
uctions.

  Bill was working at another terminal. He spoke over his shoulder to Captain Stone, “We are now at our maximum speed.”

  Not understanding much of what was happening, I stood as if an ignorant child who was in the presence of geniuses—which was not far from the truth.

  Bert said, “Fang, I’m sending you a file marked ‘increasing field sensitivity for MK-8’.”

  Fang said, “Got it.”

  Captain Stone said, “Listen up. Our last course change is pointing directly at Heshmat, the asteroid where the Guardia is right now. We may be leading whoever is behind us there.”

  Bert said, “So, send them a hyper-space message. Detail what you want the Guardia to do and bill the transmission to this ship. It’s a cheap price for the owners to pay for you giving them back their ship.”

  Captain Stone said, “I’ll be right there.”

  She left with a smile. Such a simple answer, but with the cost of hyper-space messages and quantum computing, she would never have come to that decision.

  Bill came to my side. He leaned closer. “Even if the ship behind catches up and destroys us, this is worth it.”

  Poorly worded but true. I understood what he meant. The trip into space aboard an old tramp of a ship, the excitement of running and escaping, only to be chased again kept us on edge.

  In contrast, our lives back on Roma had often consisted of sitting inside whatever shelter we’d devised and planning how to get our next meal. We generally slept late and stayed up late, since most of our schemes worked better at night. In between, we took a lot of naps to pass the time.

  A few tenths of a credit had bought enough food to feed us. Not the best quality of food. Usually, either unsold leftovers or poorly cooked, like bread too dark on the bottom to sell to people with credits to spare.

  Our go-to for earning quick credits was that I, with my light fingers, approached someone from behind, generally a tourist, and removed an item from their pocket. A travel-pass or ID worked well. I’d drop it and continue on my way.

  Bill would rush up from the other direction, his arms waving and fingers pointing to the object I’d dropped. He’d reach it first, bend and retrieve it, and hand it to them, usually telling them it was his pleasure to help.