Galaxy's End: Book One by LeRoy Clary (pdf ebook reader txt) 📕

their proper locations and hurried to speak with the engineer. She eased out of the door and into the passageway. Bill was in good hands.

She followed a few posted signs and found a narrow passage with doors every few meters on both sides. Crew quarters.

She said in a nominal voice, so she didn’t upset him, “Bert give me access to the crew compartments.”

“Done.”

She reached for the first door and out of the same respect she would for her crew, tapped twice. When no response came, she opened the door and looked inside.

The sleeping area was a third the size of those on the Guardia however, it was set up for a single person. Many ships had the crew, especially those of lower rank, share, up to four in one space.

Like most, the bed was chest height. A small set of stairs folded aside for smaller beings to climb in and out. Under the bed were drawers and a small vertical cabinet for hanging clothing. There were almost a dozen drawers of assorted sizes. A magnetic board held pictures and awards. A laundry bag hung from a ring on the wall, and a desk with a movable chair completed the room.

The bedding was rumpled, dirty clothing lay below the laundry bag where the occupant had tossed them at the bag and missed. In other words, it was exactly like millions of others.

She exited without touching anything and opened the door across the hall. She found it much the same.

She didn’t know what she was looking for, other than the quarters assigned to Chance. The Champers had never left its communications shack, and the dead captain probably had his quarters near the bridge.

One by one, she read the nameplates and opened the doors. Two had crew sleeping in them, one had a woman reading a tablet at her desk. Probably studying for advancement. Stone said hello to each and paused as she inspected the room without apology. She then complimented each and backed out.

Next to last, she found the door labeled “Chance” and paused. She didn’t know what to expect or what to look for. She wanted verification of his story, although it was unlikely, she would find it inside. She turned the handle.

The room was like all the others. Clean, tidy, and smelled faintly like vanilla. It was a good smell. She silently complimented the dead captain. It was easy to allow the crew quarters to decline on cleanliness. It was a task no captain enjoyed, and it reminded her she hadn’t inspected her ship thoroughly in too long a time.

She closed the door behind her, the first time she had done so. Her thumb rubbed the lighting panel and increased the intensity since most kept them set too low. A standard-issue tablet lay on the desk. She touched the glass screen. It remained dark.

“Bert, can you bypass the lock on this tablet?”

“Let me locate the file. Oh, there it is. The tablet should be unlocked for you.”

As he spoke, the thin glass emitted a faint blue light. She tapped the side and the last program to be used appeared. It was a personal letter.

Normally, she would instantly close it, privacy being a major concern on any ship where the living space was often less than in a modern prison. Feeling slightly guilty, she scrolled to the beginning and read. It was to his sister, she gathered. Chance was telling her he would solve the problem. He didn’t say what the problem was, but she would understand.

That was good. It implied his story was true.

She scanned through the tablet, pausing here and there, then quickly moving on. She emptied the clothes hamper and felt along the seams of each article, as disgusting as it was to do so. Seams are where people hide things. She pulled the mattress off the platform bed and found nothing under it, nothing placed inside via a slit, zipper, or tear.

The small drawers were next. Then the rest. She dumped the contents on the bed and left them there after sorting through it all. The drawers themselves were pulled and turned upside down in case anything was taped to the bottom. This was not the first crew’s room she’d had to search in her career. She got to her knees and looked behind where the drawers fitted.

A sheet of folded paper was there, hidden far in the past. The edges were discolored and faded. She withdrew it and read a forgotten letter intended to be mailed before her birth according to the date.

She stood and stretched while looking up for air vents, pockets behind exposed pipes, or anywhere a secret could lie. There simply were not any places left.

Of course, a steward like Chance had the run of the ship and a smart one wouldn’t put incriminating items in his personal space. It was too easy to hide things in thousands of public places. She remembered she’d once found a stolen diamond ring inside an “unopened” box of oatmeal. Since nobody on her crew ate oatmeal, it was perfect.

She couldn’t remember why she had searched there and took a break to sit in the chair and think. It didn’t matter, but it irritated her not to remember.

Bert’s ping for attention sounded more insistent as his voice rose in timbre, “Captain to the bridge.”

“On my way,” she said, her feet already sprinting. The captain was never ordered to the bridge unless it was dire circumstances.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Kat

 

While sitting in his cabin, I looked at Chance and realized he could easily be playing me. Playing us. It was in his character. While I wanted to believe he would help us, the idea that he was betraying the other side that paid him wouldn’t go away. If he would betray them, he would betray