The Kruton Interface Read Free Page A

forget?” Darvona wailed. “I haven’t had a promotion in years.”
    “We’ve all been passed over any number of times, so don’t feel singled out.”
    “Somehow, I do. I always seemed to get blamed!”
    “Quit squawking. We’ve all goofed on one occasion or another. We’re all to blame.”
    “I hope this new captain can help us get back on our feet. By the way, what’s his name again?”
    “Wanker.”
    Darvona scowled. “Wanker?”
    “You took the communication. Didn’t you read it?”
    “Guess I did, but it didn’t register.” Darvona pouted. “Great. Now we have a Wanker for a captain.”
    Sven shrugged, continuing to snap switches. “He ought to fit right in.”
     
     

 
     
    CHAPTER 2
     
     
    Captain Wanker stepped through the gangway tube, entered an unguarded hatch, and arrived inside the starboard quarterdeck airlock of the U.S.S. Repulse.
    He shouldn’t have been able to do this.
    He saluted the United Systems colors, then wheeled 360 degrees around, chagrined to find no one in sight.
    “Is this rust-bucket deserted?”
    He walked to the right down a corridor for a short way, retreated, then went the other way for a short distance, searching.
    The ship was a mess, wires hanging like multicolored vines from ceiling panels, plastic pipe and tubing underfoot. Debris of all sorts lay about. Wanker picked his way gingerly over the cluttered deck, wondering if the ship was at all spaceworthy.
    On returning to the airlock, he noticed a small desk at a duty station to the left of the hatch. Something rumpled and soiled—a spacebag full of dirty laundry?—was stuffed underneath it. Wanker stooped to look.
    It was a common spaceman, fast asleep.
    “Of all the—”
    Wanker straightened up and cleared his throat before summoning his best command voice and barking, “All right, you son of a mud-humping—” His voice broke. He coughed and tried again. “You, there! Hey!”
    The man snored away.
    “Wake up and come out from under there!”
    No response.
    Wanker looked forlornly about for help. Going to the hatch and shouting “Hello-o-o!” down the corridors got him none.
    The captain whined in desperation, “Somebody?”
    Returning to the desk and sourly regarding the rumpled form of the napping deckhand, he got an idea.
    “Wow, check out the curves on that babe!”  
    The spaceman jerked awake, cracking his skull against the bottom of the desk. “Ow!”
    “Knew that would get some response,” Wanker said.  
    “What babe … where—?”
    The spaceman, who wore the white sleeve stripe of a second-class spaceman, crawled out and jumped to his feet, then blearily perceived that he was in deep water. “Oh. Uh, good morning, sir.”
    Captain David Wanker was smiling pleasantly at him. “Good morning!”
    The spaceman swallowed hard. “Welcome aboard, sir.” He saluted.
    Wanker returned the salute. “You don’t even know who I am. I could be a part of a Kruton commando team.”
    The spaceman, a short man with pudgy features, cast a nervous glance about the airlock. “Uh, sir, are you?”
    Wanker blinked. “Am I what?”
    “Part of a… you know.”
    “Kruton commando team? Well, I could be. Krutons can change shape at will. Spaceman, what’s your—? What in blazes are you doing?”
    The spaceman had reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a quantum flamer, which he now leveled at Wanker.
    “Put that thing down!” Wanker ordered.
    The spaceman’s resolve vanished instantly. Lowering the gun, he seemed confused. “Is this a drill, sir?”
    “No, this is not a drill. I’m the—quit pointing that silly thing at me, you incredible idiot!”
    The spaceman lowered his side arm again. “Sir, make up your mind, please!”
    “I’m the new captain, you boob! Captain David Wanker, United Systems Space Forces, reporting to take command of this vessel. Now do you understand?”
    “Yes, sir. But we didn’t expect you till later on today, sir.”
    “Excuse me for being