Galaxy's End: Book One

by LeRoy Clary

  His face reddened with every accurate statement.

  Kat was wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open.

  Captain Stone slowly stood and addressed the lieutenant nose to nose, her voice cool and crisp, “The charade is over. We’ll complete the trip in silence and tell your admiral that she can ask her questions personally instead of depending on you to do the groundwork. Sir, you may remove the ear-bug if you wish. Now, sit down and be quiet.”

  He sat, tall and stiff.

  Captain Stone wished she could hear what was being said into his ear. A glint high in a corner of the richly decorated shuttle revealed where a camera was watching. There would be others. Admiral Swain was watching and listening to everything.

  Stone had anticipated both before boarding. She had allowed it while she learned what they were interested in by the questions asked, and the wisdom of sending the handsome, young lieutenant to lull them and guide the conversation was a good one. It had probably worked many times.

  Kat scowled when the lieutenant offered more refreshments. Captain Stone gave a mental nod of approval. The girl realized how she had been manipulated by the handsome lieutenant—and done so as much as any empath might do. Stone had allowed it to continue as she learned from the lieutenant, and to teach Kat a hard lesson.

  The shuttle arrived at the center of activity, which was a potato-shaped asteroid or larger body, lumpy and rocky on the surface. Pimples of lighted domes reflected starlight. It was large enough to have perceptible gravity, a benefit when working. At least, tools and supplies didn’t float off.

  The lieutenant offered slippers to them after placing a pair over his shiny boots. Small Velcro-like patches kept feet in contact with the universal maroon carpeting with the hatch opened. The marines remained out of sight, probably at the admiral’s orders.

  The pretense that they were guests would continue, however, the marines would follow a turn or two behind, ready to rush in if required.

  The hallway was a long tube with 3D images of military leaders on either side. Before opening a door, the lieutenant paused with his hand on the knob. He said, “Beyond is the quarters of Admiral Swain. I will not accompany you.”

  Captain Stone smiled. “We can take it from here if your personnel scanner has finished searching us for weapons.”

  Kat glanced at the ceiling and walls, at the slight bulge that wrapped around them. She understood the captain’s comment. So did the officer if his red face revealed his inner feelings.

  The door opened from the inside and the lieutenant stepped aside so they could pass. A small woman stood stiffly beyond, a few steps away. Her hair was no longer tousled from sleep. She wore a long robe tied at the waist.

  That surprised Captain Stone. She had expected another military display of awards, medals, a dress uniform, and anything else to impress visitors. A room filled with awards, images of ships she had commanded, and mementos from battles were expected. Instead, the room was a simple sitting-room, two facing sofas with a small table between. On the table was a tray with a teapot.

  “Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable. There is a refresher to your left.” The voice was soft, pleasant, and faintly amused.

  Kat took a seat beside her, both of them facing the admiral. Captain Stone knew the admiral’s name, as she knew hers. There was no sense in performing introductions.

  The admiral said, “Both of the ships that followed you have been captured without incident. The crews are in detention aboard my ships.”

  Captain Stone said, “They followed us inside wormholes, and we attempted to evade them, to no avail. They were well beyond detection range.”

  “Yet, you detected them?”

  “They closed the distance when we neared any junction. Our computer and equipment were able to ascertain they were there, not much else.”

  The admiral lifted the pot and poured three cups of steaming water. When she set the pot down, she asked, “Why would they do that? Why not just stay out of the detection range?”

  “Two things,” Captain Stone said easily. “On our ship, we have a Digger, a member of a technical race who is adept in everything computer, it seems. He claims that the detection units on ships are set to minimal standards because there is less chance of false signals and echoes. He increased our scanning abilities by nearly ten percent.”

  The admiral pointed to a wooden box with the names of familiar and unfamiliar teas on the top. As they thought about selections, she continued, “Interesting. Our ships use the same equipment. We would like to discuss that with him, if possible. I assume they always remained out of standard detection range, but you said they closed the distance when you were nearing any nexus? Why would they do that?”

  Captain Stone said, “We believe it was so that if we exited, they would be close enough to intercept us before we could reach a base or planet and request help.”

  The admiral waved her hand over the long wooden box and said, “Any preference?”

  Kat shook her head.

  Captain Stone shrugged. “We’ll drink whatever you do.”

  The admiral smiled. “A wise choice. Be assured, I will not drug you. As you’ve no doubt reasoned already, there is a platoon of marines behind a false wall behind me, a dozen remote-operated weapons already pointed at you, as well as passive restraints.”

  Captain Stone said, “Still, we will defer to your judgment.”

  The top of the plain container was removed, and leaves were spooned into a filter. Water slowly seeped through into the cups as each watched silently as if there was a magical property in the making of tea. Because of the low gravity, the water moved like molten metal. That provided a space of time for each to think and prepare for what was to come.

  Admiral Swain sipped and looked at Captain Stone over the rim of her cup. “I wouldn’t normally allow you in here, you know. But you said something that convinced me. Know what that was?”

  Captain Stone shook her head.

  “I agree with you. I should be leading a fleet in combat. Any administrator could do what I do here. I belong out there where I won battles and protected my worlds.”

  “Then why?” Kat blurted.

  “Politics,” she sighed. “I was too successful. My image dominated media. The public adored me. If the war ended, I could choose whatever leadership role I wanted. Queen-for-life was not beyond the scope, but I did not and do not wish to be a ruler. Those who are our rulers placed me here to get me out of the media storm and to protect their positions.”

  “And then, we appear out of nowhere with a promise of tipping the war in your favor, which will propel you to the top again.”

  The admiral chuckled, then laughed. “Well, after the war is over, a girl must have a job, right? What have you brought me besides information on how to better our detectors, not that such things are minuscule? However, I suspect that the captain of a successful trading ship will not display all her wares at once.”

  The conversation had reached what Captain Stone called the crux of any negotiation. The admiral had skillfully taken the meeting in the direction she wished, while seemingly pouring cups of tea. She was good. No wonder she defeated enemies as easily as rumored.

  Captain Stone also sensed the woman liked and demanded directness. Any deception or delay would burst the emerging relationship like a pinprick of a soap bubble.

  “There is another matter. It may or may not directly concern you—or it may in the future. May I ramble?”

  “Please,” the admiral said as she filtered more tea, her eyes hidden by the action.

  Captain Stone said, “The captain and com were killed on our ship shortly after we departed Roma. Three ships attempted to intercept us at that point. We escaped by luck, and two followed. We assumed they were after our cargo.”

  The admiral looked up. “Cargo is not usually worth that cost.”

  “Agreed. My ship, the Guardia, has cargo sent by the same shipper. It was also followed and escaped.”

  �
��What do you think was inside the cargo containers? Weapons?”

  “We believed it was technology from a new species just outside the human sphere, because of the tracking inside wormholes. Maybe advanced weapons. But two ships with cargo from the same shipper is no coincidence. We decided to investigate.”

  “And found what?” The admiral asked the question easily and it sounded almost like an afterthought. However, Stone noticed the whitening of the admiral’s fingertips as she pinched the handle harder. Her eyes were locked on the captain’s eyes, searching for answers.

  Captain Stone kept her tone civil and helpful. “Gel. A glutinous mass of gray matter. We also found a second container from the same shipper which was destined for another world. Same contents. We’d like any help in determining what we’ve accidentally fallen into.”

  “I see,” mused the admiral. “You have something that you believe may be important, but don’t know what it is, or if it is important. What sort of arrangement between us do you have in mind? All traders look at profit first, so what is it you want?”

  Captain Stone inhaled deeply, and her voice grew slightly louder. “You do not have a high opinion of traders, and that’s fine and deserved. What I want is to take my crew to my ship and be done with this mess. I am successful enough I do not need any return for whatever that gel is. The ship I arrived in belongs to International Transport and should be returned to them intact.”

  “However, you believe the cargo is valuable. Yet, you’re willing to simply give it to me.”

  “In return for safe passage on one of your ships to where mine is hidden. Yes.”

  “If this gel turns out to be worth billions of credits?”

  Captain Stone settled back on the sofa her arms crossed over her chest. “My ship is paid for. I have enough banked to operate for a few years without earning a profit, so unlike you, I’m doing what I like and what I’m good at.”

  “You might be walking away from owning a fleet of ships.”

  “Returning the Dreamer to the rightful owners and claiming salvage rights will give me enough credits to buy a small ship. I’m thinking of taking a small crew and a fast ship outside the human sphere to explore while the Guardia continues to trade and add to my bank account. A fleet of ships does not interest me.”

  “Really?” Kat blurted. “Can I go with you?”

  Captain Stone ignored her. “Now you know my position. The only thing I ask is to be kept informed as to what the cargo is. And its origin, if known.”

  The admiral sipped her tea and seemed to contemplate her next words. She finally said, “As you’ve no doubt already deduced, my people are swarming over the ship you arrived on and have located the cargo containers you’ve spoken of, with the forthright help of the Digger in the com office and the amphibian on the bridge.”

  “And?” Captain Stone prompted.

  “And it is exactly as you say. To the best of our initial research of the ship’s records, every word is the truth. Of course, there is the matter of the individual locked in a cabin.”

  “The killer of the previous captain. He also seems to have been coerced by his family held hostage, but that has not been determined as truth, yet.”

  The admiral grunted. “Traders are good at wagging their tongues and spinning their tales, but you seem to have told the truth. More than the truth, you have added your insights, and they are intuitive and profound. If you ever wish to enter the military, I could arrange to have you appointed to my staff with rank and privilege to go with it. By the way, your crew and passengers are being well cared for.”

  Captain Stone dismissed the job offer and returned to the subject she suspected the admiral was trying to deflect with it. “Your people. They’ve opened the cargo containers and identified the substance?”

  “Not yet.”

  Captain Stone scowled. “We were doing so well, Admiral. I answered fully and truthfully, and now you’re evading my only question and I suspect you are lying. That leaves a sour taste in my mouth.”

  The admiral was not used to being addressed like that and it showed. She said, “You’re right. I apologize. My people have opened the cargo crates and found what you did. They have not identified the substance. I will notify you when they do. You have my word.”

  “Thank you.”

  The admiral stood. “You interrupted my sleep and if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed and continue this conversation in the morning.”

  It was not a request. The door opened and the lieutenant entered only far enough to motion with his arm for the two of them to precede. The admiral slipped out of sight through another doorway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Kat

  I followed Captain Stone down the long maroon and cream hallway. While the maroon looked royal, the cream color looked like dirty white to me. A nice, bright white would have been a better choice and made the place look more cheerful. The lieutenant guiding us didn’t speak until we made three right turns and came to a hallway lined with doors on either side.

  He opened one on the right and another directly across the hall as he said, “Your sleeping rooms for the night. I think you’ll find everything you need inside. Someone will arrive in the morning and escort you to eat and describe your daily routine.”

  Two things came from that little speech. First, we were being treated like important prisoners. The next to occur was that while it was nighttime on the secret asteroid, it hadn’t been on our ship. We kept different times, a completely new concept for me to consider, and that upset me more than the first item.

  I realized the time difference wouldn’t be strictly day-night or night-day, but any variation. A few time-beats too many. The military expected us to adapt to theirs. On many worlds, the time was set by the rising and setting of the sun. On others, what would make a “day” as long as a month on others, or as short as a few hours.

  After the door shut behind me, I tried the handle, knowing it would be locked. It was not. I pulled it open, walked across the hall, and knocked on the other door. Captain Stone opened it and invited me inside.

  Instead of trying to warn me in a whisper or private manner only between us, she said in her normal voice, “I’m certain the rooms are monitored, audio and visual. I would do the same. So, either speak plainly knowing you will be heard by others or do not speak.”

  “I’m not sleepy.”

  She looked at me with amusement. Then she said, “What do you want me to do about that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, how about we go for a walk and get a little exercise while we explore this planetoid? I’m not having trouble with the sticky booties on the carpet, but my balance is off in the lighter gravity.”

  “Can we do that?” I blurted. “Just walk out of our rooms and explore?”

  Captain Stone shrugged. “Nobody said we cannot.”

  I gave her the look that I reserved for Bill when he was up to something nefarious that I didn’t want to be part of. However, she was my captain and I wanted to impress her with my energy and enthusiasm, which is to say, I wanted to go along.

  I said, “I found out some things about Chance and have not had the opportunity to tell you.”

  She gave me a cautious look that meant to keep anything concerning empathy to myself. “Now is an appropriate time.”

  I told her all I knew about the exclusive resorts, the confirmation of payment for a lifetime membership, and that the story about being forced to protect his family was garbage. She listened without interruption.

  After I finished, she said, “Well, I’ll send a message to the admiral that he is dangerous and has a huge bank account that he is willing to share with anyone that can help him with passage to any planet where he can buy freedom for life. I’m sure a double-guard will be at his door.”

  “Will you warn her . . .?”

  I was going to say that he is an empath, but her hand was held high, palm to me, preventing me from speaking. I’d forgotten th
ey were listening.

  The captain said easily, “Of course I’m going to warn her. He is a crook, a murderer, and has been paid enough to retire on a pleasure-planet. Chance has enough credits to pay any of her military or workers to do whatever he wants. She should confine him alone, in a secure place.”

  I went out the door first, my face more than a little red at my almost slip of the tongue. At the mention of “empath,” Chance would point at me to save his skin. He was probably going to use that to threaten or blackmail me. Us. And it would work. We would have to discuss what to do about that.

  Yes, I expected a pair of marines to leap from cover and turn us back but that didn’t happen. The hall was clear. I led the way, which was in the opposite direction of the admiral’s quarters. At the end was another door which again I expected to be locked. It was not.

  Inside we found a large, open room containing tables and chairs. Along one wall a row of metal trays stood, a few with food on them waiting to be removed. Plates were stacked at one end. It was a larger version of the galley on our ship.

  I walked directly across the room to a set of double doors and pushed both open. The hallway continued ahead, and it split to the left and right. Signs described what lay in each direction. Administration sounded like office work and lay in the general direction of the Admiral. Ahead were airlocks and changing rooms, presumably for atmosphere suits for working in a vacuum as the various crews constructed the warships. The last option said machine shops.

  None of the three sounded good to me.

  Captain Stone said, “Turn right. Let’s look at what they’re building.”

  We strolled down the hallway as if we belonged, neither walking too fast or too slow. I nodded to people coming the other way, most wearing work clothing, and a few nodded or said hello. Nobody demanded that we return to our rooms or be shot.

  The shops had glass set into the doors from the middle to the top. Many had windows along the hall so we could see people busy at their labors.