by Z. M. Wilmot
~Captain Jeremiah E. Korzos, in his speech accepting the leadership of the Ambassador expedition
I was discovered eight weeks into the expedition. It was my own stupid fault, too. I forgot that Ezekiel was not the only one who needed to come into the cargo hold. The maintenance technicians did as well.
After many visits from Ezekiel, I heard the door open, and leapt out from behind a crate and ran towards it, thinking it was my friend. I skidded to a halt when I saw not Ezekiel, but an old man in a thick black uniform.
“Err… hi,” I said. I had thought I was doomed when Ezekiel first found me, but I hadn’t been. Now I really was, and there was no way I was getting out of this one. Before I could move, the old man walked forward and grabbed my right wrist with an iron grip. “A stowaway, eh? We’ll see what’s t’be done wit’ ye.” He turned and dragged me towards the door. I resisted fiercely, struggling to pull myself the other way. Despite my best efforts, my body continued moving towards the door. It was wrong for so old a man to be so cursed strong.
As he crossed the threshold of the door, I admit it, I panicked. I really panicked. I also bit the hand that was holding me. He yelped and let go. I turned and sprinted away from him, ignoring his cursing. I was about to turn the corner of a crate when I felt something hit my leg. It went completely numb, and I couldn’t move it anymore. I fell to the ground and rolled several feet before I slammed into a crate. My body hurt all over. The man took his time walking over to me. He smiled cruelly down at me. “Not so keen on runnin’ now, eh boy?” He chuckled drily as he put the stunner into his belt. “Be glad it was me who caught ye’ an’ not one o’dem others. They’s not nearly so nice.” He bent over and grabbed my wrist again. “Come on. Ye ‘ave some asplainin’ to do.” I couldn’t move, as much as I tried to, and I was dragged through the door.
I don’t know how long he dragged me, but it must have been at least five minutes before he let go of my arm. “Cap’n!” I heard him say. My eyes up until that point had been closed, but I opened them again to see Captain Jeremiah E. Korzos staring down at me.
“What’s this, Methuselah?” His voice did not have any of the roughness that I associated with most blacks. His grey beard quivered around his thick lips as he spoke.
“Foun’ ‘im in the cargo bay, cap’n. ‘E tried to run, but I stunned ‘im, see?” The old man, presumably Methuselah, looked proud of himself. It had just been a lucky shot.
“I do.” Korzos prodded me with his foot. “Can the boy speak?”
I couldn’t, but I very well couldn’t tell him that – as I couldn’t speak.
Being smart as he was, he figured that out. He barked orders for someone to get a stunner antidote, and looked down on me as he waited. I don’t know what was going through his mind then, nor do I have any desire to. Someone rushed into the room and gave him the antidote. I heard a muffled gasp, and recognized the breathing of Ezekiel. I groaned inwardly. I had forgotten about him. They had to know that he must’ve seen me at some point and not reported it. He went in there far too often for him not to have noticed a stowaway in there, even though it was a rather large cargo hold.
The captain administered the antidote and I groaned as it took effect. I collapsed onto the floor from my previously rigid position and continued to look up.
“Get up, boy,” Korzos barked at me. There was so much authority in his voice that I had no choice but to obey. I slowly stood, wincing, and took in my surroundings. About twenty people of varying ages stood around me, their expressions ranging from curious to stern to sympathetic. All were men save two women in the back.
“Look at me.” I turned to face Korzos. His deep blue eyes bored straight into my soul, and I started to shake. He had the most unnerving stare, and I couldn’t look into his eyes for more than a few seconds.
“What are you doing here?”
“I… umm…” I couldn’t get the words out. It’s hard to defend yourself when you are clearly in the wrong and being stared down by one of the most experienced starship captains of all of the planets under the Home Council’s rule. You try it sometime, and then we’ll compare our respective performances.
“I think he’s a stowaway, captain.” I wanted to turn to face the speaker, but I was afraid to take my eyes off of Korzos.
“Yes, yes, I know, but I want to hear him say it.” He grabbed my chin with his strong hands and lifted my gaze to match his. His hands were surprisingly soft. “I repeat, lad: what are you doing here?”
I swallowed and answered. “I… stowed away.” He raised an eyebrow, and I hastily added, “Sir.” He nodded and let go of my face. My gaze dropped to the floor. I heard snickering behind me.
“Well then. We’re certainly too far out to turn around – not that we would anyway. It’d be bad publicity.” Some of the crew chuckled. “So then, boy, what should we do with you? Space you?”
I shuddered, remembering my own thoughts when I had decided to stow away. Why had I done that? Now that the possibility of being spaced was real, I felt very differently about it.
Korzos laughed. “Scared? That’s good.” His voice almost sounded warm. I looked up, surprised. There was a glimmer of amusement in his eye. “ Don’t worry, boy – I wouldn’t actually space you. Only a barbarian would do that. I am not a barbarian.” He smiled. “No, you will live with us – but you’ll have to earn your keep.” He looked into the space past my shoulder for a moment, then called out, “Joseph?”
I heard someone behind me step forward, and winced as I heard Ezekiel’s voice. “He’s busy in the galley, captain. Shall I get him for you?”
Korzos shook his head. “No, he has work to do, I know. Keeping the ship fed is one hell of a job. Do you know if he needs extra help?”
“We always need extra help, sir.”
Korzos grinned. “Well, that’s settled then! He’ll live with you and Joseph down in the galley! Only half-rations for him, though – he’s not one of those counted in when we calculated our inventory. Plus he probably took some from our stores over the past eight weeks. Off you go!” He pushed me into Ezekiel, who caught me. His arms wrapped around my body, and my head lingered for a moment under his neck. He pushed me to my feet and grabbed my hand. Not my wrist. My hand. He marched us out of the room without looking sideways. As soon as we were a ways down the corridor, he turned to me and glared. I cowered. I hated to see him mad at me. Was I going to lose my only friend?
“You idiot!” He did not yell, but I could hear the anger in his voice. At the same, though, I heard fear. I liked to imagine it was fear for my safety, but I knew it was more likely fear for himself. “You could have been killed! If it had been someone else who caught you, like Ivor…” He shuddered. “You probably would’ve been spaced without Korzos knowing a thing! How the hell did you get caught, anyway? You promised me you’d be careful! You almost got me in trouble! It’s a good thing Korzos wasn’t thinking about who was in that room most of the time!” I waited for him to finish. If he was anything like my mother, after his rant he would start to cry and hug me and tell me how worried he had been about me.
Right on cue, he drew me into his arms. That seems a tad romantic – it’s a bit too early for that. We’ll just say he hugged me, for now. And cried. I felt his tears roll onto my face.
“Damned selfish of you, Jak! My only friend on the whole expedition, and you almost got yourself killed!” I put my arms around him and drew him closer. After a few moments he pulled away. “We need to go. Come on.” He held – no, grabbed – my hand and pulled me down various corridors until we arrived at the galley.
It smelled delicious. Kitchens usually did, and this one, despite being aboard a machine travelling at impossible speeds, was no exception. At first I couldn’t see the cook amid the plates of sizzling food. Ezekiel pulled me through mounds of pots, both clean and dirty, to the center of the room. A middle-aged, balding man stood there, facing away from us, wearing tight purple clothes. He hummed a slow dirge to himself as his arm
s moved frantically, rearranging platters and adding dashes of this and that to various dishes. “Ho, ‘zekiel, throw me the powdered prawn antennae, will you?” Ezekiel let go of my hand, leaving it out in the cold (though the kitchen was almost unbearably warm; I was already sweating), and picked up a small vial. He tossed it at the man, who he caught it deftly. “Thank you kindly, son. Who’s that you’ve got with you? I don’t recognize his smell.” I was indignant. I did not smell! Sure, I hadn’t taken a shower in weeks, but I had scents I used to cover it! I had thought about that at least when I stowed away. It had taken a lot of scrounging to get those.
“He tries to cover it up with perfumes, but the stink of a long time without a bath comes through. I’m guessing he’s a male – maybe sixteen? Fifteen? Gone through most of puberty, I’d say. White. Definitely white. Am I close?” I was impressed that he had guessed so much about me just through my smell. I wondered how he could do so even though the powerful aromas in the room. He turned around, grinning, and I saw his face for the first time. It looked sunburned (perhaps stoveburned?), and he looked surprisingly solemn for all the cheerful words that emerged from his mouth (not to mention the grin – it was a solemnly cheerful grin). “I thought so. So, who is he, ‘zekiel? Need I ask you a fourth time?”
Ezekiel finally came to himself. “His name’s Jak. He… err… stowed away. He was hiding in the cargo bay. Korzos told me he was to help us.”
The man, presumably Joseph, raised an eyebrow. “The cargo bay?” Something whistled, and he turned around and silenced it. His hands began moving in a flurry again. “Did you know about this?”
“N-no, sir.” Ezekiel was a horrible liar. Not that I could really say much myself.
Joseph clucked. “So he’s not the reason that you’ve been taking longer and longer trips to the cargo bay, and with increasing frequency?” Ezekiel had the grace to remain silent.
“Like I thought. So, he’s to live down here and help us out? Well, if that’s what the good captain says, so it shall be. Take whatever belongings he has and show him to his room. He’ll be sharing yours, I think. Get him set up, then show him the basics. He starts work tomorrow, precisely at 0300 hours.”
“Yes sir.” He took my hand again and warmth flowed back into it. He led me off to the cargo bay to retrieve my scant belongings, and then we retired to his room.
4
“It is then that I must refuse your offer of the post of captain of the starship Ambassador, for the reasons I have already stated. It is a risky venture – I may even go so far as to call it foolish, with little to no chance of any reward. It is uncertain as to whether or not we even want to make contact with whatever is sending off these signals – I believe that I can best serve humanity’s interests elsewhere.”