Galaxy's End: Book One LeRoy Clary (dark books to read TXT) 📖

a small swish of her hand. At second glance, it was not a human woman, therefore it might not be female either. There wasn’t room to wave for attention without hitting one wall or another.

The surface of the table was the auto-menu, but a human, something only the wealthy could afford. A simple enough process to order with a few taps on the table, and the steward returned with the items and cleaned up as the diners at each table departed. The captain and I sat facing each other across the small tabletop.

Captain Stone ordered a baked potato with all the toppings, the only thing I was familiar with, so I punched in the same. She said, “Wine?”

“We need to talk,” I mumbled. “I have no idea what most of the stuff is on the menu, the only wine I’ve tasted was probably something else. A cheap imitation. Bill and I seldom had a full credit to our names until recently. I’m out of my element and feeling lost.”

She smiled and said, “I was going to talk to you about the same things. Those are issues that we need to discuss, I mean.” Her fingers tapped the wine icon. She selected from a variety on the menu, tapped twice to confirm, and ordered a glass of water to go with it.

I was about to speak again, but she held up her palm. “Wait until the steward gets here so we’re not interrupted.”

I looked around. The ceiling was low, appeared to be metal, as were the walls, tables, and chairs. It was not fancy. However, it was clean if I ignored the rust and accumulated filth concentrated in the corners. However, with a ship as old as I believed this one was, there had been plenty of time for it to gather that dirt and grime. Plenty of time to clean it up, too.

The steaming hot potatoes arrived, and she told me, “Drink half your water.”

Without questioning her, I did. She then poured half the glass of white wine into the water and said, “From now on, never use stims or alcohol in the presence of strangers. If you do, water it.”

I gave her my best smile as I tasted the drink It was good. “I don’t consider you a stranger. Not anymore.”

She sighed and her eyes flicked to the occupied tables a step or two away. “Imagine those people are of the same race as Bert and speak to me accordingly. You’d be amazed at what I’ve heard while eating in public.”

I got it. We had no idea of who the other passengers were, what their business was, and how it might affect us. Only a fleetingly brief time ago, we had been running from the police, all of us. We were felons, or escapees, or something. The legal system on Roma wanted our capture so badly they had sent several sleds loaded with agents to capture us. If Roma still did want us, and I assumed it did, it could probably catch us on board the Dreamer or send agents to Franklin for the promise of rewards. I’d heard of such things.

Why they wanted Captain Stone was a mystery, and she would tell us when the time was right. It seemed a lot of fuss for betting on herself to win a battle in the arena. It also didn’t sound illegal.

For now, she wanted to learn about me. Well, she’d paid for the tickets for our trip, so she had a right to know everything. I glanced warily at the other passengers.

Closest to us were two Wren, a brown bird-like race covered in fine feathers. While they couldn’t fly, their ancestors had. It still showed in the general shape of their bodies. They were notoriously anti-social. Beyond them sat a male Bask and a female human. She wore too much sparkly jewelry. It had the look of being real. I wondered how I could steal her jewelry and manage to get off the ship with it.

Until I knew more about how things like theft of property work on a ship, I wouldn’t attempt it. However, I’m a fast learner and in the past when opportunity knocked, I answered.

I didn’t share that sort of information about Bill and me with strangers, not even ones that paid for a ticket that took us on a spaceship. The less that people know about you, the less they can hold over your head or use to blackmail you.

Most of all, she wanted to know about me and my empathic powers, not my past criminal activities. She hadn’t said that, but it was coming. I felt her watching me. She knew about me, at least a portion of it, and she wanted to know more. I sipped my watered wine and loved it.

No matter what she expected or wished, she was not going to have a telepath on her hands. It was not the same thing, even if telepaths were more than a myth. I couldn’t speak to others with my mind, but there were rumors of some who could. True or not, my abilities were far simpler. I helped people make choices. Not all the time. Only when it served me. I couldn’t tell what a person was thinking any more than the next person.

Empaths work by feel. If another has a box of candies, I can’t take one without punishment. What I can do is place the idea that sharing the candy will make him or her feel better. In that way, I may or may not have one of the candies offered to me.

Back in the arena, I hadn’t told her to move to the Hoot’s right. Not in words. I’d merely used my small talent and mentally suggested that she wanted to move in that direction as the contest progressed. It was her choice. I was a whisper in her