Galaxy Blues Read Free Page B

leading to the ship. If that happened, I’d have to hope that my only possible excuse— someone at the gate neglected to process my ticket; why, is that a problem? —would be enough to convince her.
    Yet the steward didn’t unclip her scanner. Instead, she glanced at the name and number printed on the card. “Cabin 4, Mr. Carr,” she murmured, then glanced up at me. “Wonder why I didn’t see you earlier.”
    â€œMy mistake.” I assayed a weak smile. “Haven’t been to my cabin yet. Went straight to the head as soon as I came aboard.” I hesitated, then moved a little closer. “You may want to have the other passengers avoid using it for a while. I switched on the fan, but still…”
    â€œYes, right.” The steward hastily turned toward the passageway leading to the first-class cabins. “This way, please…”
    My accommodations were no larger than the airlock I’d cycled through, with barely enough room for two persons. Two seats facing each other across a small table, all of which could be collapsed into the bulkheads to make room for a pair of fold-down bunks. It’s questionable whether being able to stretch out and sleep during the sixteen-hour voyage was worth two months’ salary as a longshoreman, but the added measure of privacy was priceless. However remote the possibility that I would encounter someone who’d met either (the fake) Lucius Guthrie or (the real) Geoffrey Carr, that was a risk I didn’t want to take. Hence the private cabin.
    The steward showed me how everything worked, then inquired whether I would like anything from the galley. My throat was dry, so I asked for orange juice. She left, returning a few minutes later with my drink. Another admonishment for not being where I should’ve been during launch, but this time it was only a mild rebuke, like that given to a mischievous child. I accepted the scolding with good grace, and then she left me in peace, sliding the door shut behind her.
    Alone again, I settled back in the forward-facing seat, sipping my OJ as I watched the Moon drift past the starboard window. Too bad I wasn’t seated on the other side of the ship; if so, I could have bid Earth a fond farewell. Perhaps it was just as well, though, and maybe even appropriate. I’d turned my back on home a long time ago…
    Considering this, I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath. No, that wasn’t quite right. I had covered the bases. It was about time to steal home.
    V
    It took nearly six hours for the Lee to reach Starbridge Earth. I passed the time by playing solitaire on the table comp, now and then glancing up at the small wallscreen on the bulkhead. It displayed the ship’s trajectory as it traveled from Highgate toward the starbridge, with occasional departure-angle views of Earth and the Moon. The steward stopped by to offer the lunch menu. I ordered Swedish meatballs with spinach pasta, and after I ate, I switched on the DO NOT DISTURB light, put my legs up, and took a nap.
    A birdlike chirp woke me. I opened my eyes just as a woman’s voice came through the wallscreen speaker. “This is Commodore Tereshkova from the flight deck. We’re now on primary approach to the starbridge, with final approach to hyperspace insertion in about ten minutes…”
    Realizing who was speaking, I sat up a little straighter. I wondered how many of my fellow travelers recognized the captain’s name. Anastasia Tereshkova, former commanding officer of the Drake and, before that, the EASS Columbus , the first European starship to reach 47 Ursae Majoris. After she’d led the Drake ’s crew in mutiny against the European Alliance, Captain Tereshkova had defected to the Coyote Federation, where President Gunther had subsequently appointed her commodore of its navy. To be sure, her fleet consisted of one starship and a small collection of shuttles and skiffs, but