Standing outside the cap’s quarters—stupid Pup-man couldn’t bring himself to enter it—he smiled triumphantly. Held up the captain’s log and tapped it, very carefully, against his gloved hand; never knew if it might just fall apart. And he needed it. Needed it to convince the rest of the crew.
The talisman to force ol’ fatman out the airlock. And walk away rich as well.
“Think Jiptom. No jump-sail array. How can you be jumping without a sail?”
“I tell ya, ya can’t.”
“No?”
“No.”
“What about charging with the reactor.”
Pup-man clumsily bumped his hand into his helmet, as though he’d tried to run his dirty hands back through greasy hair. “Well, sure, you can do that. But you run out of fuel awful fast if ya keep it going too long.”
“Exactly. But the fuel. You saw it first.”
“Fuel?”
“The fuel, Jiptom. A thousand times what our ship’s got. Ten thousand. Wouldn’t run out of fuel too quick, toting around that much.”
In the strange lighting of his head-lamp, Colt saw the beginnings of understanding flicker on pup-man’s face.
“Still, got to have a jump sail,” Jiptom insisted.
“Why?”
“Cause, a JumpShip has a jump sail. I tell ya. A JumpShip has a jump sail.” He repeated, like a nursery rhyme.
“Only because it is the best way to do it, right?” Colt led him.
“Ya. Right.”
“But if the ship didn’t have access to a jump sail?”
“Uh. Bossman, you confusing me. What House or Clan don’t have access to that when they build a ship like this? Big ship. Lots of tech here, though old looking. Ship even gots itself a whole cube for people to live in.” He looked up, happy-puppy eyes. “Remember the mummies. Want to take me one of those.”
Sick bastard. “Jiptom, stop thinking about the mummies. I told you, leave it alone. Worth more if we don’t touch it at all. I’m only taking the captain’s log to convince the crew of what we got here.” He may have come to trust Pup-man a little, but no way was he spilling about pushing Cap out the airlock.
A beeper went off; both men almost jumped into the air, only kept to the ground by their boots. Colt glanced at his wrist-comp. Couldn’t believe so much time had slipped by.
“Got to go, Jiptom. Oxygen burning away.”
“Yea, thinking smelled too stale. I tell ya, too stale.”
As they began the long trek back, Colt tried once more to make Jiptom understand what they’d found. Make him understand what it could do for them.
For him.
• • •
“WHAT!?”
Colt hated Cap, but he couldn’t help be impressed with how much power the fat man could push into a single word. Course, had a lot of mass to push with.
He’d had almost a full day to think about what he would do on the way back to the Voidjumper, including tearing out a portion of the console to erase their flight telemetry. And a good thing too, since Cap ordered him straight to the bridge. You could only delay something like that so long, but felt he’d had enough time. Not all the crew knew, but enough. Key people. The smart ones. He’d laid the groundwork for months, cinching it with the log. Now it was time to simply face the Cap down. Move him down and out and dead.
“I said we’re not going to touch the ship.”
Cap didn’t move a muscle, didn’t say a word. But Colt suddenly felt as though the man grew several sizes larger. Something about the set of his face. Those dead eyes. For a moment he almost wavered. Almost lost it.
Bossman.
The word echoed up. From pup-man, of all people. Might as well have come from a dog…but the trust he’d earned. That was something. Meant something. For the long years Cap ruled the Voidjumper with his iron, fat hands, not a soul on board trusted him. Yet in one outing, Colt did more than Cap managed in long years.
Colt smiled and this time, let it slide onto his face, a snake out of the grass, ready to strike.
The silence took on physicality and seconds drifted to minutes. Something shifted in Cap’s eyes. Colt couldn’t tell, but something. For once, a crewman stood up to him. Fear only worked for so long and Colt held the key. A dead ship, centuries old. And he wouldn’t touch it. The smile grew into a grin, transformed his face. For a first, Cap broke the silence.
“You sure you be wanting to do this, pilot?”
Colt’s smile turned predatory. Never use my name, just like I never use yours? This crew’ll damn sure know my name. Say it with respect!
“You’re through, Cap. Every dog has his day and yours, fat man, is over.” A feeling he’d never experienced before surged. To face the man down, to unleash his pent up anger and frustration. It felt better than any food, any experience, any sex he’d ever had. It tasted like…
Victory.
Quicker than he thought possible, Cap surged forward, his bulk actually undulating back in the micro-gravity as he tried to grab Colt. It almost ended right there. The crew might have believed him, but you had to face down your own trouble before they would step in. He didn’t mind such an attitude. He’d had it himself and still had it. Face the man down, but know the crew would back the move when needed.
Colt flexed his knees, pushed up hard. He came free of the deck and drew himself up into a cannonball, as Cap practically flew through the space he previously occupied. His vile stench wafted after him. Did the man ever bathe? Ever!
Stretching out perpendicular to the approaching ceiling, he landed with hands stretched out behind him and legs bent back. Pushed off and shot towards the Cap’s chair. Grabbed the edge as he neared. Expertly realigned himself and sank into its soft embrace. Santora couldn’t match this feeling, this warmth, no matter how long she tried.
Cap
