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

“Captain on the bridge,” Fang growled.

“At ease,” she instinctively repeated the old response. Bill and Fang were alone. She said, “Bert, are you with us?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Our killer was a crewman. You can narrow your search to only them.”

“I came to the same conclusion a few tenths of time ago. Only crewmen are allowed on the bridge. Is that the same thing you realized?”

“It is. The Champers could not leave the com-room without drawing attention. The First Officer would be the obvious choice, but that position is held by a Pisidian, and they are part of a hive mentality, although removed by generations. By definition, they cannot lie or kill.”

“Agreed. I have also ruled out the cargo master.”

“Why?”

“Age. He is over the age of most of his race, and he is ill. He has been for some time. The ship’s captain had no real need for a cargo master and kept him on because of a long-term friendship. He has been in his stateroom praying for his departed friend since we found him. I assure you the prayers and tears are genuine.”

“That leaves us with engineers and those stewards providing service to the passengers.”

Bert said, “As we departed, the coils storing energy were leaking, so both engineers were busy in the engine room performing emergency maintenance. It was not a fundamental problem, but the replacement of two primary coils is a lengthy task and requires two people. I can account for their presence the entire time.”

“I see. How many stewards, cleaners, and other passenger-function personnel do we have?”

“Six.”

Captain Stone had been standing. Now, she sat in the chair only occupied by the commander of the vessel. It felt right. Instead of soft, it was firm. The material looked and felt like leather, which might offend some people and races, but she’d found there seemed to be no substitute material that met the same standards.

Her mind was working full time. They had eliminated all passengers and most of the crew. Things were going to get hairy, as her First Mate often said. Why complex matters were considered “hairy” remained unknown to her. In this case, she understood.

They would either find the killer or not. If they did, the next problem became preventing suicide or self-death so they could question that being. Before making accusations, she wanted to know who it was and have at least two trusted people at her side to try apprehending him or her.

“Can you eliminate any of them?”

“Tentatively, two.”

“How certain are you those two are innocent?”

Bert said, “I couldn’t bet your life on it. Not yet.”

She thought a moment and said, “We could lock up the remaining four.”

“Or we could remain vigilant for a while longer and see if I can find which of them it is.”

Captain Stone tore her eyes away from the speck of flaking paint on the ceiling that had been her center of concentration. Bert was earning her trust in a manner no other had. Not in her lifetime.

She turned to Fang. “What do you have to say?”

He bared his rows of tiny shark-teeth and said, “Two things. First, there is no ship within the detection range of us. I believe we got away and they have no way to track us.”

“The other thing?”

“I need sustenance. Any insects will do. I’ve been watching that delicious little spider spinning a web on the corner behind you but cannot leave my post without the captain’s permission.”

She detected a glint of humor in the voice. Most aliens had little or no sense of humor. She said, “I’ll take the command while you go eat. Do not allow a steward to prepare your food or drink, as you probably have surmised. Check on Kat, quietly. Remain near her door.”

Fang crawled to the edge of the seat and slipped over the side, his tiny claws puncturing the material to provide grips and he lowered himself. Once on the floor, he walked-hopped to the hatch and waited for her to open it.

He said, “I was going to suggest I watch over her. We are like a crew. Or team. Five of us.”

She let him out and replaced the locking pin. Fang was right. It felt like the five of them were against the universe and those odds didn’t bother her at all. Bill had a computer screen up and was tracking ductwork on a ship. He was calculating airflow at intersections and filling in the answer in a blank. A test. He was taking a test.

She surreptitiously looked over his shoulder. It was a quiz from the beginning of an engineering maintenance manual. She fought to keep the smile contained.

Her eyes drifted to the spider in the corner. Fang would eat it sooner or later. She suspected Fang ate his weight in insects in a month.

A small red blip on a computer screen drew her attention. It was there, and then it wasn’t.

Had she imagined it?

She checked the display’s name and made certain it revealed any ships within a standard sphere. She settled back in the chair, her eyes roaming the readouts, displays, and visual indicators, however every few seconds she glanced back at the place where the red dot may have existed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kat

I’d finally decided that Kat was the perfect name for me, after all. Quick. Sharp. Descriptive words that told of how fast I moved. Far better than bird-like. Others had also called me flighty which sort of fit my actions but sounded disrespectful and weak. I preferred quick. Cautious to nervous. My list could go on.

My body had changed in the last year or two. Where my legs and arms had been too long and unstable, ungainly a few told me, the rest of myself