Project Pope Read Free

the control room, sitting at his ease in one of the three chairs. At the moment nothing needed to be done; the ship was running on its own.
    â€œWhat is this you have?” the captain asked.
    â€œStowaway,” the rat creature said. “Dug him out of a small aft hold.”
    â€œOkay,” the captain said. “Leave him here. You can go.”
    The rodent turned to go.
    â€œMy bag, please.” said Tennyson.
    The rat turned around, still holding the bag.
    The captain said, “Give the bag to me and then get out of here. Get the hell out of my sight.”
    The rat turned over the bag and left hurriedly.
    The captain examined the bag thoughtfully, then lifted his head and said, “So it is Jason Tennyson, is it? M.D.?”
    Tennyson nodded. “Yes, I am a doctor.”
    The captain set the bag down on the deck beside him. “I’ve had a few stowaways in my time,” he said, “but never a doctor. Doctor, tell me, just what is going on?”
    â€œIt’s a long story,” said Tennyson, “and I’d prefer not going into it.”
    â€œYou’d been in that hold for hours,” the captain said. “I suppose you sneaked on at Gutshot. Why did you wait so long?”
    â€œI was about to come out,” said Tennyson. “Your rat-faced friend beat me to it.”
    â€œHe is no friend of mine.”
    â€œMy error,” said Tennyson.
    â€œThere aren’t many humans out here,” the captain said. “The farther out you go, the fewer you will find. I have to use this kind of scum to man the ship. And I have to haul loads of other scum out to End of Nothing and—”
    â€œOut to the end of what?”
    â€œEnd of Nothing. That is where we’re going. Don’t tell me you weren’t headed there?”
    â€œUntil this moment,” Tennyson said, “I had never heard of it.”
    â€œThen it must be that you were intent on leaving Gutshot.”
    â€œThat, Captain, is a fair assumption.”
    â€œIn some sort of trouble there?”
    â€œI was running for my life.”
    â€œAnd popped onto the first ship that was taking off?”
    Tennyson nodded.
    â€œSit down, man,” the captain said. “Don’t stay standing there. Would you like a drink?”
    â€œThat would be fine,” said Tennyson. “Yes, I could use a drink.”
    â€œCan you tell me?” the captain asked. “Did anyone see you duck into the ship?”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œYou’re fairly sure?”
    â€œWell, you see, I went into a bar. One of the spaceport joints. When I left, it seems that somehow I got hold of the wrong jacket and wrong cap. I was, if I remember, in somewhat of a hurry.…”
    â€œSo that’s what happened to Jenkins’s cap and jacket. Jenkins is my first mate.”
    â€œI’ll return the jacket and the cap,” said Tennyson. “I left them in the hold.”
    â€œI find it strange,” the captain said, “that you did not take the pains to find out this ship’s destination. You, apparently, have no wish to go to End of Nothing.”
    â€œAnyplace away from Gutshot,” said Tennyson. “They were closing in on me. Well, maybe not, but I had the feeling that they were.”
    The captain reached for a bottle that was standing on a table beside him and handed it to Tennyson.
    â€œNow I’ll tell you, mister,” he said, “I am convention-bound to quote the rule book to you. It says in Article Thirty-nine, Section Eight, that any stowaway must be placed in detention and returned thereafter, as speedily as possible, to the port where he had stowed away, there to be delivered up to the port authorities. During the intervening period, while he is on board the vessel on which he stowed away, he is required to do such tasks, however menial, the captain may assign to him to help defray his passage. Are you aware of these