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

I don’t know what I could do to earn my way on your ship and that has been bothering me since you offered to take us aboard.”

He hadn’t touched his wine. She liked that. And she understood his story. “You want to be an engineer, that’s what you’re telling me.”

“No, I was just telling you—answering your question. I know I’m no engineer.”

“Some people see there is beauty in the way things go together, like your pipe and coupling. Can you imagine how many similar things there are on a starship? Tens of thousands of pipes, nuts, bolts, fittings, welds, braces, and more. All of them need attention at one time or another. Do you believe we can carry a storehouse of repair parts for all of them? No. We have a small machine shop and 3D printers to duplicate them. We have only two crewmen who are responsible for all of that. They need a helper and someone to learn skills where they are weak. My ship is not getting any younger.”

“Are you saying I could do that?”

“We would welcome you. You would be valuable to us. All of us. You could even specialize in plumbing, electrical, data, or fabrication.”

Bill lifted his glass and sipped, but she doubted if he tasted the wine as his eyes teared up. She drew a few nasty looks from others in the room who thought she had mistreated him in some manner when speaking so seriously in the muted tones.

They didn’t understand. In truth, she didn’t understand either. Not fully. But she saw the interest she’d sparked in his eyes. She welcomed it.

She knew he was going to join her crew.

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 Kat

I woke and found Bill absent from the cabin we shared. He often went on his own, but we were on a passenger starship and there were only a few places he could be. Bill often spent time with Bert, but Bert was in the bed above Captain Stone. He may have gone to the galley to eat or stretch his legs.

Bert heard the door opens and spoke as he sensed my increased breathing, “Kat, is something wrong?”

I said softly in case the captain was sleeping, “Where’s Bill?”

“He and Captain Stone went into the passage to speak.”

“About what?”

“Do you wish me to speculate? They did not talk while here except to acknowledge that they needed a private conversation.”

“Bill came to her about a private conversation? Yes, speculate.”

“I think Bill is assuring her that she should take the two of us to join her on her ship, but he is not part of the group because he is not an empath or computer wizard if I can brag about myself.”

“He’s a dumb ass. We should leave him stranded on the nearest asteroid without air. The three of us have to stick together.”

“We always have,” Bert said in a conciliatory tone. “I expect that to remain constant.”

“I’ll go knock some sense into him,” I said while pulling on a pair of pants. I understood Bill’s dilemma. He had been the protector of our group. His size intimidated many. He was not afraid to fight when needed. However, that position didn’t belong on a starship.

The same subject had been in the back of my mind. Bill was smart, no doubt about it. Living as we had didn’t provide time to learn skills others considered necessary. Our skills were supplying meals for most days. Not all, but most. Bill was also a scrounger. He found material for our tent, a metal grate for cooking over the fire, discarded clothing, warm coats in winter, and a hundred other things.

While he scrounged for the necessities of life, I handled the food department. I often started with a small item found in a waste bin and found someone that needed it. An exchange took place, hopefully with me trading up to a better item. Eventually, I traded up until I either had credits or food.

The trick was knowing who might want the items. A good deal helped both of us and future facilitated trading. I seldom used my empathy because the few times I had convinced a person to make a trade, they later reconsidered and believed that I’d cheated them. They no longer traded with me.

Bert tapped on the wall to draw my attention. “I believe you should remain in your cabin. I have a feeling there will be a good outcome if you do not interfere.”

“If it’s not good?”

“We face it together, the three of us. As always. Now, may I return to my slumbers?”

“Liar, you were not asleep. Do you ever sleep?”

“I rest. The same thing—only different.”

I said, “Well, that makes a lot of sense if you’ve been using stims all afternoon.”

Bert didn’t answer. He probably considered the conversation over. And he was right. Bill should talk with Stone on his own and maybe realize that the starship could use the three of us—and we would benefit the ship. We all had value to offer. Bert had probably lived with others over the last couple of hundred years and why he’d decided to team up with us was a mystery he wouldn’t speak about.

I let that idea drift in the back of my mind as it had a hundred times before. Bert was special. His skills with computers and using the results for deductions were amazing. Well, he didn’t know a lot about computers, the hardware, and software stuff, but he understood how to make use of them in the same way a driver of a car could get from place to place without knowing how to add fuel or repair the repulse unit.

Ask Bert a question and he found an answer, cross-referenced, and double-checked for accuracy. Long ago, Bert had insisted both Bill and I learn to