Stealing Endeavour: Book 1 of the Forever Endeavour, Amen Trilogy

by Martin Tays

  “Father…”

  S’Nhu-gli turned away from the intercom panel to look over at her. “He’s got to know, child. Would you rather he make decisions based on faulty data?”

  “No. Of course not. I’m just…”

  “Scared?” She nodded. “So am I. And the sad thing is that we don’t even know what we’re scared about.”

  “That’s probably why we’re scared.”

  He wrinkled his muzzle, amused. “You always were a bright cub.” S’Nhu-gli looked at her fondly for a moment, then rotated back to the intercom. “Jaason to command room. Please patch me through to the general.”

  After a moment the gruff voice of the general responded. “I asked you not to call that device by that name, priest.”

  “And why not?” He replied reasonably. “It is what the humaans named it, after all.”

  “You do not follow orders well, priest.”

  “It pleases me that you have noticed, general. I have information for you.” He waited.

  The general’s response, made tinny by the small speaker in the intercom, sounded annoyed. “Well?”

  “I believe…” S’Nhu-gli looked over at his daughter, and amended the statement. “We believe, that we have detected activity similar to that of the drive of this probe.”

  “You mean…?”

  “We believe that the humaans are on their way.”

  There was a pause as K’har-atah digested this new information. Finally, he replied. “I see. Please join me in the command room. Both of you.”

  “We will be there momentarily, general. Jaason out.” He was briefly amused at the general’s snort over the open line before he cut the connection. He turned again to his daughter. “Come. We’ve been summoned.”

  “So I heard. It is a pity that we’re at zero gravity. We will not be able to abase ourselves before him.”

  He laughed. “Indeed. We will have to make do with our normal shy demeanor and humble mien.”

  “We are but servants of the Emperor’s arm.”

  S’Nhu-gli pulled the hatch open. “You have far too much of my reckless disregard for authority about you.”

  She pulled up beside him at the hatch. “You would prefer I be like,” …pointing at the intercom, “Him?”

  “No. In fact I shall say an extra prayer tonight in gratitude for that.” He gestured toward the hatch. “Come.”

  As always, he was surprised at the transition between the humaan built section and the rest of the warship. Not at how different it was, but at how different it was not. Oh, the ship that his people had built was simpler, but the basics of construction was remarkably similar.

  Pity that his people didn’t have the air cleansing capability that the humaans had apparently engineered. The smell of a bit too many people working together in a confined space for a bit too long smacked him in his sensitive muzzle like an odiferous club.

  He ignored it, again as always, and moved on through the maze like warren of corridors and spaces to the command room. T’han-mri followed him into the large and well protected heart of the warship.

  In the center of the room the general was strapped into the command chair. He glanced over at them and beckoned them forward.

  As the scientist-priest approached, he realized the general was speaking to someone on the main video monitor. The energy requirement ― and bandwidth ― that such a thing required meant that it was only done on special occasions.

  Or for special people.

  S’Nhu-gli turned toward the viewscreen and bowed as best he could in zero gravity to the individual on the screen. “Your Eminence.”

  The somewhat blurry representation of the Inheritor Direct Of The Crown Of A’Sa-Men-thot turned in the window and considered him. Finally, He Spoke. “Lord S’Nhu-gli. General K’har-atah has been keeping me appraised. He has been most generous with his praise for you and for your daughter. On consideration, We have decided to be pleased with you.”

  “He has?” S’Nhu-gli couldn’t help glancing over briefly at the general. “I mean,” He looked back quickly. “I mean thank you, Sire. For both myself and for my daughter. Our only wish is to please you.”

  “That and to master the humaan’s technology and travel throughout the galaxy.”

  He cast his eyes down. “Only if it is your will, Sire.” Then he couldn’t help looking up. “It is your will, right, Sire?”

  Emperor K’arn-Aton-piy smacked himself in the Royal Forehead with a forefoot as T’han-mri yanked on his tail and hissed “Father!” in a strained tone of voice.

  “Lord S’Nhu-gli, as always you have the tact and subtlety of a starving cub.” The Emperor said, then turned toward the occupant of the command chair. “General?”

  General K’har-atah turned his glare away from the priest, composed himself, and looked again toward the Emperor. “Sire?”

  “The Lord Priest will… well, he will always be as he is. Try to bear that in mind when you deal with him. So. We are to understand that the humaans are on their way?”

  “So I have been told, Sire. Priest?” He looked over toward S’Nhu-gli, then shook his head. “No, better. Scientist T’han-mri? Please explain to the Emperor what you have detected.”

  T’han-mri’s eyes widened, then she pushed herself up to float by her father. She reached out to grip his shoulder as she attempted to copy his weightless bow. Without looking up, she began to speak. “Sire. The, ahh, the devices that the humaans built into the interloper are remarkable.” She paused. “And difficult to fathom.”

  After a moment, the Emperor encouraged her. “However?”

  “However, Sire, to the best of our knowledge, we believe that the humaans have activated a drive like the one which powered the probe.”

  “I see. How certain are you of this?”

  She glanced up, then looked back down quickly. “As certain as I… as we can be, Sire. Based on our understanding of their equipment, there cannot be any other reasonable interpretation of the readings.”

  “So we are to have visitors.”

  “Yes, Sire.” She glanced over at her father before continuing. “Unfortunately, we know so little of the device that we cannot even begin to guess how long it will be before they arrive.”

  “I see.” There was a long pause, long enough for her to glance up again. The Emperor was staring off into the distance. Finally, he looked back. T’han-mri looked down quickly. “General.”

  “Sire.”

  “You are authorized to begin flight tests of the probe/warship hybrid interface. You are to understand that these tests are to take place at a location well removed from the planet, correct?”

  “Yes, Sire. Of course.”

  “Good. We… we all… understand the consequences of activating that drive too close to a planet.”

  General K’har-atah shut his eyes briefly, then turned toward the two scientists. S’Nhu-gli, nodding, looked back to the video feed from the throne room. “Sire? We understand. The drive from our ship will not come near the planet. Neither will the humaan’s.”

  “You do understand. Good. We are still recovering, Lord S’Nhu-gli, from the last time. It cannot happen again. May the Maker guide you.” The image on the screen shrank to a dot and vanished as the Emperor cut the connection.

  The general touched a control and the CRT viewscreen retracted into a niche in the ceiling. He looked over toward the priest. “My dear Lord S’Nhu-gli. You have such a way with words. Perhaps I can arrange some lessons?”

  S’Nhu-gli sighed. “Many years of practice, General. I fear you could never be my equal.”

  “Truth, and a pity. I shall have to struggle on as I am. Now, shall we discuss the drive tests?”

  ☼

  “There it is again.”

  Mo
ses looked down at the readout, then back to Leo. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Nope.” Leo turned from the sensor console and looked at Moses, a move he immediately regretted.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No, no. Of course not.” Leo replied. “The purple skin quite suits you.”

  “It’s better than the yellow.”

  “Um… sure.” He pointed back toward the panel. “Now, about those readings.”

  “Right, sorry. Did you speak with Cath about this?”

  Leo nodded. “Yeah. She agreed with me. It’s a drive ― gotta be. And that’s the second time this week. Always low power, and generally for only a few seconds.”

  “Crap. You know what this means, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Leo looked over, a serious expression on his face. “They’ve got the probe.”

  “Yep.” Moses shrugged. “Well, nothing to be done for it. We’re just going to have to wait and see. How’s qualifications coming along?”

  “I hate you.”

  “That well? Good. Remind me after dinner to quiz you about navigation.”

  “Certainly, captain.” Leo replied. “Remind me after dinner to quiz you about engineering.”

  “Oops.”

  “Yeah. Thought so.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy. What with the whole, you know, captaining thing.” Moses shrugged. “You’re right, though. I’ll be down the start of next shift for my next lesson.”

  “Fair enough.”

  It had been a painfully long month. With ‘port and starboard’ shifts in engineering and on the bridge, and the studying that Moses had demanded, the small crew was being run ragged. Tempers were flaring, and nerves were shot.

  Moses looked over at Leo. The strain was showing. “Out of curiosity, when was the last time you spent any time with Sher?”

  “Oh, that one’s easy. Two days ago. I was getting out of bed. She was getting in. We had fifteen minutes together.” He smiled beatifically, shutting his eyes. “We slept.”

  “I know just how you feel. I haven’t, you know, had any time with Ami in two weeks.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Leo made a face. “Dude, she’s my sister.”

  “True enough.” Moses nodded agreeably. “And your sister’s quite hot when naked.”

  “Remind me to hurt you, later.”

  “I’ll pencil you in for Tuesday.” Moses considered the haggard boy before him, then made a decision. “You know, something’s got to be done. And I’m just the guy to do it.”

  He turned back to the helm, where No sat watching the readouts while studying what appeared to be a manual on zero gravity atmospheric equipment maintenance. A auxiliary text window was open nearby, crowded with notes. “No? Got the conn?”

  No looked back and nodded. As Moses turned away, though, he spoke. “Boss? Cap?” Moses looked back. “We all knew what we were getting into. We’ll be okay.”

  Moses paused. “Yeah. Probably. It doesn’t mean I like running everyone into the ground. Thanks, though.” No nodded again and returned to his instruments.

  Moses passed through the hub core and down the central corridor toward engineering. He entered maneuvering, where Cath was sitting watch. She looked up and sketched a salute.

  Moses grabbed a handrail and began speaking. “Okay, got two important questions for you. First, don’t you think it’s about time we shut down the drive and took a navigational fix? Or inspected the whatchamahickey? Or any of a dozen other convenient excuses?”

  Cath cocked an eyebrow. “Humm. Interesting. I see where you’re going with this. Yeah, I think we could stand winding the mainspring and rotating the tires. And actually, I don’t think a navigational fix is a bad idea.”

  “Good.”

  Cath grinned. “And your second question?”

  “Where’s the still?”

  ☼

  “I’ve never seen a zero-gee conga line, before.”

  Moses grinned at Ami’s remark. He floated with one foot hooked under the helm, looking around at the partying crew. In the background, Desi Arnaz earnestly sang.

  “Yes, sir, I’m Cuban Pete!

  I’m the king of the rumba beat!

  When I play my maracas they go

  Chick, chicky boom,

  Chick, chicky boom!”

  Ami floated directly above him, head pointed down so she was face to upside down face with him. Her foot tapped in zero g to the beat. She burped delicately and looked at the pouch in her hand. “What is this stuff, anyway?”

  “It’s… um…” He hesitated, then looked at the transparent bag and shrugged. “It’s blue.”

  “Ah.”

  Moses smiled. “Cath has run a still on every ship we’ve ever been on together. She refers to the product as ‘torpedo juice’ in an obscure historical reference you’re probably a bit too soused to grasp right now.I asked her once what was in it. Unfortunately, she told me. I would like to save you that pain, if possible.”

  “My hero!” Ami grabbed him by the ears and pulled him close to kiss his upside down nose. Across the bridge the conga line broke up. Mattie pushed over to the helm and utterly missed her handhold to crash into Moses and the upside down Ami.

  “Wups! My…” Mattie realized she was talking to Moses’ foot. She carefully and drunkenly rotated around it and pulled herself up the front of his shipsuit to hiccup in his face. “Sorry! My bad!” She paused and looked at him for a moment. “Say, Moses, I never realized what a good looking guy you were before.”

  Moses reached out and gently pushed her face back far enough to be able to focus on it. “And that would have nothing to do with the fact that I’m currently No-colored?” Moses looked down at his now bright white skin.

  Mattie squinted at his face for a moment, then said brightly “Say! You’re right! Good point, thanks. You’re no more good looking than before.”

  “Awww.” He smiled. “You’ll turn a fellow’s head with flattery like that.”

  “Ahwaze… always have. Now ‘scuse me. I need to go find No and fuck him till his ears bleed.”

  “Take corks!” Moses suggested helpfully. He watched her swim through the compartment to grab a surprised No and drag him toward the hatch, then turned to the still upside down Ami. “Ah. They grow up so quickly.” Ami nodded solemnly and burped again.

  Across the bridge Sher, in flagrant disregard of her previous vows, was again naked and again dancing on the map table. Leo, at the base of it, took another swig from his drink pouch and egged her on.

  Moses nodded toward the pair. “You know, she should strip more often. It suits her.”

  “Here, now.” Ami carefully pulled herself around to orient herself to him. She steadied herself on a grab bar then reached up to start unfastening her shipsuit. “If naked’s what you want…”

  Moses laughed and grabbed her hand. “No, that’s alright. Photographic memory, remember? Besides…” He pulled her close and kissed her. “I’d rather look at you in clothes than Sher naked any day.”

  “Awww. That’s sweet. And I’m glad. It’s cold in here.”

  Moses glanced down at the front of her shipsuit. “I can tell.”

  Ami looked down at herself. “Oh, wow. I’m pointier than hell, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, and thank you.”

  Ami dimpled, kissed him quickly, then pushed off to get a refill. Doctor Smith drifted over.

  “Doc.” Moses nodded amicably.

  “Captain.” Smith regarded him for a moment. “You and I are the only sober people on board, aren’t we?”

  “Yep. In point of fact, you and I are the only sober humans within ten light years or so.” Moses waggled his pouch, which sloshed obligingly. “Bug juice. I slaved engineering to the he
lm, here, and safed all the boards.” He waved out toward the others. “I figured they needed this.”

  “You’re right. The break will do them good. They were pushing themselves pretty hard, there, you know.”

  Moses nodded.

  “Do you know why?” The doctor continued.

  He looked over at Smith. “Well, because they needed to.”

  “No.” The doctor shook his head, paused, then nodded. “Well, yes, they needed to, but that’s not why they’ve been pushing themselves to the breaking point.” He pulled himself up on a grab bar and turned toward the group as he continued. “They were doing it for you.”

  Moses looked around at his crew, then back to Smith. “What do you mean?”

  “You really don’t understand, do you?” The doctor turned and considered him for a moment before continuing. “Interesting.” He brought out his pcomp and keyed in a quick command. “There. You’ve about had enough, I think.”

  “Moses!” Ami was just returning with a fresh pouch. “You’re you colored! Yay!”

  Moses looked down at the back of his hand. Sure enough, the normal color had returned to his skin. “Huh. So I am.” He breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the doctor. “Thanks, Doctor Smith.”

  The doctor just looked at him levelly for a moment, then pushed off toward the hatch. Halfway there, he turned back.

  “Call me Clive.”

  “I remember reading a line years ago about how people want immortality, yet don’t know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

  Personally, I’ve always thought they underestimated Mankind’s ability to utterly submerge himself in the mundane.”