Cats in Space and Other Places by Bill Fawcett (the first e reader txt) 📕

grabbing his shipmates in a three-and-a-half-way hug. Kelvin, a black-and-white female, mixed breed cat, protested and demanded to be put down.

Marius rescued Kelvin from the crush and put her on the deck. "What are you so thrilled about, Thomas? This thing could blow up on us. We could all die!"

"Not a chance, Helm. Ship?" Thomas said, addressing the air. "Or can I call you Pandora?"

"Working." The computers pleasant, though burbly, voice responded.

"Crank this sucker up and let's get out of here."

"Destination?"

Marius dashed for her console and ran up the coordinates for Argylenia. "Twenty-seven degrees, fifty minutes, right ascendancy minus 15," she read off.

"Understood. On the command?"

Marius looked at Jurgenevski. "Given," he said, with some surprise.

Lights on the console shifted from red to green, and gradually up to white. The ship moved under their feet, but so gently that the crewmembers had no trouble getting to their assigned crash couches before the Pandora attained acceleration. Jurgenevski grabbed the cat and stuffed her into her crashbox under the console before he sat down. The huge screen, which took up the entire front of the pilo's compartment, warmed up to show the field of stars and those surrounding Fladium's sun.

"Destination will be reached within thirty-seven days," the Pandora's voice assured them, as they strapped in.

Jurgenevski grinned broadly at his crew and settled in with his hands tucked behind his head. "I think I'm going to like this ship. She's worth every credit they paid for her. Twenty-five days early. That means a 250% bonus on top of all our other pay."

"That's impossible," Marius protested. "It should take at least sixty-two, even at maxium acceleration."

Thomas winked. "She read our greedy little minds and knew we wanted to go fast. Pandora, honey, give the doubting member of our crew the details of the journey."

Unerringly, the red sensor lights of the Drebian personality monitor went on in front of Marius. Her personal screen filled with mathematical formulae and star maps, reflections of which shone on her face, her expression slowly gaining in enlightenment. "Hot damn, I didn't think a ship this size could do that." She looked up at the others. "Do you mean that's all I have to do? I love it!"

"Whee-hah!" Jurgenevski cheered. "I might be able to buy my own ship when we get home."

The galaxy on the big screen streaked into a shock of white, then all light vanished as the ship bounced into her first jump. When there was nothing more to look at, Jurgenevski cleared his throat.

"Um, well," he began. "Since we've got five weeks, I want us all to bone up on the features of this ship. We've got reports to send back at regular intervals, and I don't want them to catch us out on a single detail." He tapped the insignia on the shoulder of his dark blue coverall hopefully. "I want real ones of these when I get home."

If we get home," Marius said, suddenly looking gloomy.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas asked, with his customary cheerful mien. "The Pandora will take good care of us. Won't you, sweetheart?" he said to the air.

"Working," the computer voice said. "Affirmative. Honeycakes."

Jurgenevski pointed toward one of the speakers. "Did you tell her to call you that?" he asked Thomas.

"Naw, but she's picking up on the things I usually say." Thomas thought about it a moment. "I don't think I've said 'honeycakes' yet, though. Not in the computer's presence. I guess the Drebs told the truth when they said that the box reads your mind."

"This is still an experimental vessel," Marius pointed out, resuming the previous argument.

"That's why I want us to know everything there is to know about the Pandora," Jurgenevski assented. "Engine capability, clearance under bridges, armaments . . ."

"Yes, why are we armed?" Thomas said. "We're only going to Argylenia. That's right through well-established, well-patrolled throughways."

"Not this time," Marius said, showing him her terminal. "Pandora's redirected us. We go right through a corner of Smoot territory. Computer, put it on the big screen."

The diagrams appeared, greatly enlarged, with the ship's flight path indicated by a line of dashes in red. The Smoot were another bloblike race that Humanity had discovered, but had entirely failed to befriend. The Smoot seemed to be offended by the presence in the universe of a race of vertebrates, which they saw as an offense against their Creator, to be exterminated whenever possible. Thomas's smoky complexion drained to ash, and he swallowed.

"Can't we go around them?" the engineer asked.

"Two hundred-and-fifty percent bonus," Jurgenevski said, temptingly.

Thomas sighed heavily. "Maybe we won't meet any of them."

"Working," Pandora said. Thomas's own screen lit up suddenly with another array of formulae, this time referring to the schematics of two powerful, sidemounted laser cannon, and a nose-mounted plasma torpedo launcher. The screen blanked, only to fill again with a list of evasive maneuvers of which the Pandora was capable of executing, with diagrams, followed by a flashing cursor, and the legend, in block print, "YOUR CHOICE?"

"Whew!" Thomas whistled and patted the console. "You sure know how to make a fellow feel welcome, honey."

A querulous complaint erupted from underneath the control panel.

"You want to let the cat out, Thomas?" Marius asked.

So far as Jurgenevski could tell after only a week, the Drebs had done their work with the usual, expected degree of genius. The mind-reading capabilities of the computer were not only complete, but subtle. Every morning when he opened his eyes, a screen went on above his bunk, and beside his elbow, a door slid up to reveal a steaming cup of coffee. On the screen, the Pandora reported the ship's status, complete with a tiny diagram of how far they had traveled during his dark shift. Nothing was wrong or even remotely awry. Jurgenevski sighed and reached for the cup. The system was flawless. An eight-year-old could run the ship, play a video game, and do his homework all at the same time. Even the coffee was perfect. Never bitter, it always came out at exactly the