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

my direction, and his little pointy ears swiveled in my direction. “I know something of how to encourage beings of many species to share their knowledge.”

My imagination ran wild. I didn’t like what it came up with. I said, “I’m thinking of taking another run at him.”

Fang didn’t respond. I lost myself in the wonderland of the bridge that hurled us through space. The ship was old. Older than I had believed. There were places on the deck where feet had worn a slight hollow in the deck plates. The screens and computer modules were relatively new, however, there were holes in the metal walls where predecessors had been mounted. There was no way of telling how many.

“Fang?” I asked, “How old is this ship?”

“Old. Hard to say more, but I can tell you the engines are replacement, as is most of the equipment. Since this ship only spends a fraction of its time on planets, the hull won’t corrode or rust. When needed, a coat of liquid metal alloy is applied to the outside to repair the micro-abrasions gathered in space but again, there is no way to measure how many times that had happened.”

“A hundred years?” I persisted.

Fang snorted, “Much older than that.”

“Who built it?” I asked.

“Originally? No idea. Not my people or yours. The doors are too short for humans, too tall for me. The passages are narrow, the cabins small. I think a race smaller, and from the solid construction, one that intended to use it for a long time. Before you ask, maybe they did.”

I realized the ceiling was lower than those of buildings on Roma, and he was right about the narrow halls and small cabins. Wondering about the original builders made me sad. Where were they and why were there no records?

“I’m going to see Chance.”

Along the way, I took careful notice of the interior of the ship, still searching for elusive answers. Only days ago, I’d been on Roma, the only home I’d ever known, although there was now the possibility that I’d spent time on Prager Four.

Now we were on a spaceship and that fact hadn’t penetrated enough to become a belief. I woke expecting to be in a ragged tent on Roma. The ship around me might have some age, but it was quiet and smooth. The equipment in good working order.

Most importantly, I could stop by the galley and order anything on the auto-menu. Anything at all. Any time. Then a steward dressed in all white would deliver it to my table with a smile. After that, I had a bed with clean linens. And I had my two best friends with me. The good stuff didn’t end there. Captain Stone wanted us, all of us, to work on her ship as crew.

What could be better?

Well, there was Fang. I liked him. He also scared me. It was hard to put him into a category because he was not a friend, but more than an acquaintance. He was competent on the bridge, seemed to know a lot about almost everything, and acted as if he was equal to the captain.

Maybe that was it—the problem with placing him into a position in our group. He was more than the rest of us, except Bert, of course. I could accept him but for the one item. He was a danger. He didn’t seem to hesitate in using weapons or fighting.

That was odd because Fang was a foot tall when in his normal squatting position, his body as wide in proportion as a frog, and his head was outsized, even for a frog. He awkwardly flopped when he moved.

But there were times when he moved with remarkable speed. It was as if the rest was for show, or to lull his opponents. When he wanted, he moved far faster than me. That also made him seem more dangerous.

I don’t want to be one of those who attribute human abilities to aliens without knowing their own. I like to think I judge all by who they are and what they do. That’s the goal. But when you are unsure of someone, it’s hard.

I had reached the door to Chance’s room, which is the room where we placed him. Bert hadn’t said he’d left, so I assumed he was there. I’d been thinking about Fang instead of what to say to Chance.

I knocked.

He called, “Come in.”

When I opened the door hesitantly, the man was lying on the lower bed, his fingers interlocked behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles. His socks were clean, I noticed. That said something positive.

He made no effort to get up. There was no chair. I could climb into the bed above his, but then I couldn’t see his face while we talked.

I sat on the floor with my back to the door, my legs crossed.

He hadn’t initiated any conversation.

I sighed inwardly. He was probably waiting for me to tell him about the subject of my visit. I said, “You are a problem. We don’t know what to do with you.”

“You could let me go.”

“You killed your captain. From all I hear, a good officer. You did it to help your family, but does that excuse your actions?”

He looked at me over the tops of his toes. “You could say that.”

“I could also say you killed him for money, an innocent man. I could also say that you cooperated in smuggling advanced technology into the human sphere as a means of conquest.”

He smiled wanly. When he spoke, his voice was softer, “I don’t think any of you are killers. I feel safe, for now.”

I gave it some thought because my ideas were similar. “You’re right, except for Fang. I think he’s dangerous. And some of the crew who were close to the captain might want