Galaxy's End: Book One by LeRoy Clary (popular ebook readers txt) 📗

the hab, the pedestrian avenue as wide as any road on Roma.

Within a few steps, I spotted at least ten races new to me, dozens that were familiar, and gaudy advertisements above the doors to the shops, most with life-like avatars demonstrating and displaying what was sold inside. I steered the three of us to a clothing store, larger than most, and advertising reasonable prices.

“Reasonable” is a relative term, I learned. However, Captain Stone had told us what to buy and if the cost were too high, she could deduct it from my future pay. I suggested we split up, thinking Lila and I would go to the section where the clothing for female Earthlings was displayed in holos that floated above.

Bill accompanied us. He complimented Lila on anything she lifted to examine. When I asked his opinion, he grunted without looking. I made my selections alone and when finished, found the two of them standing several meters away, mutually selecting his clothing.

I paid and gave the delivery instructions to the bot.

When I rejoined them, they were discussing what and where to eat. Their plans didn’t seem to include me. I said, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to the Escolta. I’m a little tired.”

“See you there,” Bill said, hardly looking my way.

I left them standing there looking at each other. It wouldn’t surprise me if they remained there for the rest of the day. Part of me felt jealous. Not as much as I would have expected, maybe because I liked Lila. A better choice for a romance for Bill would be difficult to find.

If it didn’t work out, both would remain my friends.

The hatch to the Escolta looked exactly like the few others I’d seen. The inner hatch, the one mounted on the ship itself, was closed. I stood in the entry searching for a way inside. I pounded on the metal and it barely made a noise.

Finally, the hatch swung open and a small man with a huge mustache that drooped on either side of his mouth stood there. Instead of speaking, he stepped into the airlock with me and pulled the door shut.

“Hey,” I began to protest.

He turned and faced the hatch again. He raised his wrist-comp and a green light glowed as the door opened. Before I could enter, he pulled it shut again.

There was no trace of humor or evil. I somehow realized he wanted me to test my wrist-comp. I lifted it as he had, and the green light reappeared. The door opened.

“Thank you,” I growled.

He nodded and rushed off too fast for me to follow.

Two doors on either side of a short hallway. The first and second were locked. The third opened into a large room. A storeroom, or cargo bay. It was huge. Every cargo pod on the Dreamer could fit into one area. Cargo pods were strapped and secured to cleats in the floor and walls. A couple of hundred, at a guess.

One door left to try.

Then my brain turned on. I held up my wrist-comp and asked for it to take me to the bridge, where I assumed the officer-of-the-day if there was one, would be located. A few doors, two sets of stairs, and one corridor brought me face to face with the First Officer.

It’s not something easy to forget.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

Captain Stone

 

As she had hoped, her First Officer had done all she had hoped for—and more. Besides the new paint on the outside, he’d paid to have the ship registered to a planet on the rim. For an added fee, he had the ship’s visits, manifests for fictional but untraceable cargo, and pay records for a crew that never existed created.

He had forged receipts for repairs never made, going back fifteen years when the new computers for the ship were installed. The Escolta was a workhorse with a reputation of being honest and reliable, if not inexpensive to use for shipping cargo. It carried larger loads and was not against handing out a transportation bargain to companies in need or to repeat customers.

In return, Captain Stone wanted a commitment from them for future shipments, a deal that was the mark of a good trader. As was her practice, she started the inspection at the bridge, which was located in the bow, and worked her way deck by deck to the stern, then up the other side of the ship. She tried to find some small item the First Officer had missed that referred to the Guardia, one that might raise suspicions from the military or planetary police. She found none.

Next came a private meeting with the massive First Officer, a descendant of a heavy gravity world. He stood well over two meters and was almost as wide. Muscles bulged when he moved. She had seen him lift more than any three humans. She closed and locked the door to his quarters, more as a symbol of wishing privacy than to prevent others from entering.

He sat in a wide chair before a monitor that usually displayed the repair and maintenance activities for a day. Today it was paused in the middle of a soccer match between his favorite team and a hated rival.

The game hadn’t changed much in a few centuries. Some said that was because of the simplicity. Any flat area and a ball were all that was required. Rocks, shirts, or sticks could act as goals. And the rules were simple to understand.

It had exploded in popularity along with the explosion of humans. Most worlds now had leagues. Nearly everyone watched the games, and it was the single unifying force in the human sphere. Only the battles in the coliseum on Roma vied for competition.

She said, “You’ve done your normal masterful job with the