Galaxy's End: Book One Read online

  It struck me that most were not military in appearance and that they seemed happy enough. Not forced workers by any means. I saw them talking, laughing, and staring back at us. Self-darkening glass revealed where welding went on. The harsh sounds of cutting, bending, and fitting pipes came from another room.

  Intelligent creatures of many varieties wearing all manner of clothing worked behind the glass observation windows. Despite the diverse mixture on Roma, many were new to me. Others were similar to ones I’d seen before. At one window members of a small rodent-species were workers under the direction of a symbiotic being who reminded me of a shrub. What the relationship between them was, I couldn’t determine, except that it guided the rodents into small spaces, usually carrying tools with them.

  At one window, I drew up short when a furry creature resembling Bert waddled onto a ladder and performed a task with a meter. When it turned to face me, the being was not the same race as Bert. I felt both disappointment and relief. If it had been an attractive female Digger, I may have lost Bert. I also had to admit that not only could I not tell Bert’s sex, but I couldn’t recognize a pretty Digger if I met one.

  Behind the same window, a bird-like woman balanced on a thin wire strung as a support from which she worked. She appeared as comfortable as I did while standing on the ground. Fascinated, I watched a small tan thing that wore a harness rush through conduits trailing three or four wires and optical feeds. I couldn’t tell if it was intelligent or a well-trained pet.

  I turned to the captain. “Why let us see all this?”

  “Why not? We can’t go anywhere or tell anyone. If they don’t accept our offer to work with us, I suppose they’ll put us out an airlock and be done with the problem we pose.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen. But it could. Stay on your best behavior.”

  There were more hallways, more workshops to look at, and eventually, we decided to return to our rooms. Fortunately, the captain knew where they were because I was lost.

  I fell onto my bed and the more I tried to go to sleep, the more awake I became. Images of the day flashed past me. Things I should have said, and others I shouldn’t have. Instead of forcing myself to sleep, I closed my eyes and attempted to relax.

  Eventually, I went to sleep.

  A knock on my door woke me. I was still in my bed, on my back, and hadn’t moved and still wore the same clothing. I opened the door as the woman outside was about to knock again. She was as startled as me, while I faced a balled fist about to pound my nose instead of the door.

  We both laughed. She said, “When you are ready, the admiral would like to see you in her quarters. Please take time to dress and I’ll escort you and your captain.”

  I hesitated. “You can come in and sit while I use the fresher and finger-comb my hair.”

  The young woman stepped inside as she said, “The fresher will have a comb and all you need. Especially suitable clothing.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Where is it?”

  “Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Her face wore a scowl. She pointed to a wall that had a floor-to-ceiling viewing screen and the image of a small island situated in a blue sea. Birds soared above, and now and then a fish leaped from the water. “You can change the image to suit your tastes, of course.”

  Of course, I didn’t understand anything of what she was attempting to convey.

  She realized my helplessness and moved quickly to the right side of the screen at the foot of my rumpled bed. She walked into the sea, disappeared, then returned.

  I gingerly entered the wall and found myself in a large room with a shower, sink, and all else a woman might need. Clothing hung along one wall.

  I saw suits, military-cut and other, overalls, pants, shirts, and things I didn’t recognize but figured out. I selected a simple one-piece that resembled what the crew of our ship wore.

  The entire left wall of the room was made of shelves, each with dozens of scents, soaps, depilatories, creams, and things I didn’t recognize. The shower seemed to know the exact temperature I preferred.

  I found a comb and ran wet fingers through my hair, then the comb. I gave my neck a single squirt of a perfume called a night for love. It was sickly sweet, and I wished I hadn’t. It didn’t lose potency when I washed it with water. Facing where I thought the door should be, I paused. Walking into a wall would be embarrassing and probably hurt. My hands reached out and felt for emptiness in front of me.

  The young woman was smiling when I emerged. Captain Stone was in the hall watching and she also smiled. Lots of smiling going on. All but me.

  We retraced the path to the admiral’s suite of rooms and entered. My eyes flicked around, searching for hidden doorways. There were probably several if they were similar to the one in my room with the sea view, but I couldn’t find any. It was probably just as easy to project a bare wall as a live image of an island in an ocean.

  The admiral entered. Today she also wore a one-piece jumper like most of the workers we’d seen, and not a lot different than the one I’d chosen. Only the pair of gold leaves on her collar made her stand out, however, she was the sort of person who always stood out, in a crowd or by herself. There was an aura of power around her, no matter what she wore.

  “Good morning,” she said chattily as if we were old friends. “Have you eaten?”

  I suspected she knew we hadn’t because a side-table was laden with fruit, baked goods, and juices. The admiral looked refreshed and ready to control the day. Her gray eyes found mine. “Something wrong?”

  She’d already established she didn’t like lying or withholding information, and she didn’t like wasting time with indirect answers. I decided to go along with her. “I was just wondering how you were going to manipulate us today.”

  Instead of anger or annoyance, she laughed. Genuinely laughed, which is hard to fake. Then she said, “Well, first I planned to ply you with tasty food and soft music to calm your nerves. Then I was going to compliment you both on whatever possible, using the old two-standards of leadership. Do you know what that is?”

  “No,” I admitted.

  She selected a sweet roll for herself and sat. Before taking a bite, she said, “That is where you give two compliments for every kick in the rear. I’m certain your captain can tell you more about it.”

  Captain Stone selected a blue fruit I’d never seen and a small loaf of bread. Tea was poured and only I hadn’t gotten something to eat. My hand took a mahogany brown bread and a napkin, as the others had, almost as if I hadn’t selected it.

  The bread was bitter, almost charred on the outside. It strangely tasted like what we’d waited for a baker on Roma to toss out so we could grab it before other vagrants could. I munched and waited.

  Captain Stone opened with a compliment about the food, then the tea. Next, she asked, “What did your workmen and inspectors find out about our ship while we slept?”

  The admiral barely turned in her direction at the directness of the question. “All you told me checked out. I took the liberty of notifying the owner of the ship as to its whereabouts because I didn’t realize you had “paying” passengers aboard. The company was extremely concerned about them. You were correct in a sizeable reward for salvage and the return of their property.”

  “What else?”

  “The two ships following behind yours wished to recover the cargo in your hold. They claim they do not know what it is or who paid them. We believe the story.”

  “And you have not figured out who is behind this?”

  “Not yet. We do have a clue or two about the cargo. Our people have determined it is biological, nonlethal, for a start.”

  I snuck another loaf of burnt bread and when a lull came into their conversation, I asked, “Are you going to let us go?”

  Instead of lying or deflecting, the admiral smiled at my directness and said, “I have not yet decided. After all, this is a secret installation and even word of its existence co
uld be damaging to the war effort.

  Captain Stone sat her cup down hard enough to chink on the saucer as she said, “You do understand that I’ve known of this location for over two standard years and didn’t speak of it.”

  “No, I didn’t,” the admiral said. “That may change my decision, especially if you reveal how you learned of it.”

  Captain Stone delayed answering as she poured more tea with her right hand, and her left was at her side out of sight of the admiral. A single finger shot out to attract my attention. That was our signal. She wanted me to provide gentle persuasion to the admiral.

  I gave a slight nod of understanding.

  She said, “About three years ago, my ship, the Guardia, delivered cargo to Delphi Six, which is not all that far from here, as the wormholes dictate. Delphi Six is a mining and processing world, providing quality steel often used in the construction of starships. They use an elevator secured to a small moonlet to take their metals from the ground to orbit. On that moon are several clubs, bars, taverns, saloons, and low-life stim houses.”

  The admiral said, “We purchase metals from there. We also pay several undercover operatives to stop any talk of us.”

  “I am a trader, and that means I keep my ears open for clues to potential customers. A minor clerk mentioned the huge increase in her paperwork since they converted two or three plants where they produce steel for ships. I wondered where it was all going.”

  “So, you investigated?”

  “And found that there seemed to be no market for the increased steel and plastic-steel production. It took almost a month for one of my people to find the buyer, which came from an employee on your home planet. After that, it took a year to find a spacer who worked on a ship that hauls goods and supplies here.”

  “You bribed him?”

  “Hired him. He used drugs on my ship that tangled his mind and after a month aboard, we had to dismiss him.”

  The admiral rolled her eyes. “Not before you had our location.”

  I enjoyed the sparing between the two, but even while it was happening, I used my mind to soothe the admiral’s temper and pushed warm thoughts of admiration for my captain. Nothing overt, just as Stone had asked, a gentle push to like and trust the woman sitting across from her.

  The single finger was still extended, so I continued with the idea of trust. Captain Stone could be trusted. After all, she had known about the location for almost two years and had said nothing. All of which was true, so it was easy to project those feelings.

  The admiral said, “The name of the individual?”

  Captain Stone told her without hesitation. Then she said, “You will find he died in the spaceport on the smaller continent of Palmer, a few weeks after we paid him off and escorted him from our ship. I heard the death was over-use of drugs.”

  The admiral nodded. I had no doubt she would follow up on the story and also find what Captain Stone told her was true. She said, “The owner of the ship you arrived on has asked when and how it may be returned.”

  Captain Stone glanced my way. Then she said, “I was hoping to depart here and go directly to Heshmat where my ship is waiting for me to rejoin it.”

  The eyes of the admiral told me her next statement was important. She squinted slightly, her stomach seemed to tighten, and her posture became rigid. “And after that?”

  The question was put to Captain Stone as if it were casual, however, I suspected it was anything but. Captain Stone never flinched. She said, “I have accumulated enough credits to take a few chances and lose. Not that I’m wealthy, but a loss or two isn’t going to put me out of business. To answer your question directly, I don’t know.”

  “There’s more you have not said.”

  “The cargo intended for delivery on three planets intrigues me. It is biological, you say. Depending on what else you determine, I may go exploring in the vicinity where the cargo originated, out on the rim of the human sphere. I was thinking of trying to locate advanced technology like the ability to follow a ship in a wormhole to buy. I may have to change my plans.”

  “Because the gel is biological?”

  “Yes.”

  The admiral sighed. I pushed more warm waves of trust her way. She finally said, “What you find there may be of critical interest to me and our war effort. A single discovery could sway the course of the war.”

  “Weapons?” Captain Stone spat as if trying to rid herself of a bad taste.

  “Perhaps. But there are many other things, especially technologies that can help us. Are you willing to accept an assignment and work for my government?”

  “I am not,” Captain Stone said coldly. “However, I maintain a network of business operatives and partnerships. Your business is war. Mine is acquiring a second ship, which means successful trades to support it.”

  “You are suggesting a partnership of some sort? That’s not the sort of arrangement a military commander enters.”

  Captain Stone stood and went to the food cart where she selected a tube of baked dough with red cream oozing from one end. She sat again, closer to the admiral, I noticed. Then she said, “Sure you do. Instead of bank credits, you earn weapons and ships by purchasing them. You tell a steel mill that if they provide a certain grade of the metal sheeting you need, you will deposit a predetermined amount in their corporate account.”

  The admiral said nothing.

  Captain Stone ate the end of the sweet roll and then wiped her mouth and said, “You want technology or weapons. I want a larger bank account. Perhaps your shipyard could construct a ship to my specifications in return for the information I bring to you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Captain Stone

  The captain glanced at Kat and curled her forefinger to signal the girl to stop attempting to influence the admiral’s decision. She had been trying to sense the empath’s work and had felt nothing, despite being an anti-empath. That bodes well. However, she wanted to take no chances the admiral detected the effort.

  Kat was a mere beginner with no training yet had been able to use her powers without revealing herself to one who knew or suspected she was doing it. The admiral was no fool. It seemed Kat was a natural empath, skillful, if untrained. Her efforts seemed to have worked because the admiral was now negotiating about working together.

  The captain understood that if she found innovative technology, there might be better markets with higher profits to sell it, but there are also advantages to having a cargo already sold before entering orbit. It takes time to find buyers, and that wasted time delays the next voyage and another transaction. That delay may cost more than the difference in any profits.

  The admiral also understood the advantages of technology unknown to the Devonian Empire, her enemies. She abruptly stood as she indicated her left ear with a pointed finger. “Please forgive me, I’m being called to a crisis. Remain here.”

  Kat said nothing, but her brow furrowed, and she looked uncomfortable.

  Captain Stone sipped tea. Her imploring eyes met Kat’s as if by accident. She raised her cup, and as she did, her hand covered her mouth. She hissed, “We need Bert. Privately. Chance must not be allowed to talk.”

  Kat seemed to have been thinking along the same lines. Empaths were hated. There were laws. A few sentences from Chance could mean her death. Any hope they had of working with the Bradley Concord would evaporate like dew from the grass on a summer morning.

  In the silence that followed, a tiny but identifiable sound caught their attention. A ping. So soft that others might not hear or pay attention, but more than enough for them. Bert was letting them know he’d accessed the comm system on the planetoid. He was listening to everything.

  If their cabins were monitored as they expected, the conversation about Chance had been heard. The admiral knew he was involved with the smuggling of the gel and the murders. He might already be in her custody.

  There was no way to ask Bert without betraying his access to the comm system. Stone sipped
her tea and wondered if Bert had an aversion to killing a dangerous person. He looked like a stuffed bear, but his actions were decisive and his knowledge endless.

  However, for some unknown reason, he clung to Kat and Bill.

  The admiral returned. “We have located the modifications for the detection system within wormholes on both ships. It will remain a closely guarded secret, but my engineers believe they can quickly duplicate the units with reverse engineering. They tell me they already understand the basic principles.”

  “Another reason to keep us here?” Captain Stone asked wryly.

  “I don’t think so. You came here to escape those ships, but we now have the secret in our possession, thanks to you. If you were to tell the Devonians, they still would not know how to build it for themselves. I see no reason why our mutual agreement is not still in effect. The Guardia is large enough for the exploratory venture, once you reach it. We can even offer fuel and additional supplies for your trip here at our base. I want to do my part to help you succeed.”

  Captain Stone settled back and chuckled.

  The admiral joined her.

  Kat sat puzzled at their actions.

  “How many?” Captain Stone finally asked the admiral.

  “A few. Let’s agree on eight, shall we?”

  “Four,” Stone shot back.”

  The admiral laughed and said, “Let’s not argue over trivial things. We’ll call it a platoon of four and one officer. Five, in total.”

  “Done,” Stone said. “And we’ll take you up on the additional supplies. How will we travel to where my ship is?”

  Kat was still confused.

  The admiral said, “Take the Dreamer to Heshmat. While there return it to the owners and collect your reward for its return. The Dreamer has already been refueled and a few supplies added to your stores. I provided an invoice for you to give to the new owners for our expenses.”

  “Heshmat? How did you know?”

  “Your ship is a registered trader under the name of Guardia. I spent some of my government’s money on a subspace message and attached a reward for information for the location. There is an extremely happy pipefitter who just departed Heshmat and will never be allowed to return because of the security breach, however, she will have enough money to live well for a long time.”