Captain Future xx - The Death of Captain Future (October 1995) Read Online Free PDF

are.”
    Damn.
    According to common law, the closest vessel to a spacecraft transmitting a Mayday was obligated to respond, regardless of any other mission or prior obligation in all but the most extreme emergency ... and my job aboard the Jove Commerce didn't qualify as such, as much as I might have liked to think otherwise.
    McKinnon held out his hand. I handed the paper back to him. “I guess you've already informed Ceres that we're on our way.”
    The captain silently reached to another panel and pushed a set of buttons. A flatscreen lit, displaying a playback of the transmission he had sent to Ceres Station. A simulacrum of the fictional Curt Newton appeared on the screen.
    "This is Captain Future, calling from the TBSA Comet, registry Mexico Alpha Foxtrot one-six-seven-five." The voice belonged to McKinnon even if the handsome face did not. The Brain had lip-synched them together, and the effect was sadly absurd. "I've received your transmission, and I'm on our way to investigate the situation aboard the Fool's Gold . The Futuremen and I will keep you informed. Captain Future, over and out."
    I groaned as I watched this. The idiot couldn't keep his fantasy life out of anything, even a distress signal. Captain Future and the—yech!—Futuremen to the rescue.
    “You have something to say, Mister Furland?”
    McKinnon's hairy chin was thrust out at me with what he probably thought was obstinate resolve, but which actually resembled the petulance of an insecure child daring someone to step into his corner of the sandbox. Not for the first time, I realized that his only way of dealing with people was to boss them around with what little authority he could muster—and since this was his ship, no one could either object or walk out on him.
    Least of all me.
    “None, Captain.” I pushed off from the nav table and floated back to my duty station. Like it or not, we were committed; he had both law and his commission on his side, and I wasn't about to commit mutiny because I had refused my commander's orders to respond to a distress signal.
    “Very good.” McKinnon shoved himself in the direction of the carousel hatch. “The sextant confirms we're on course for Barr. I'll be in my cabin if you need me.”
    He stopped, then looked over his shoulder. “You'll need to arm the weapons pod. There may be ... trouble.”
    Then he was gone, undoubtedly to claim the sleep I had lost.
    “Trouble, my ass,” I murmured under my breath.
    I glanced over at Jeri. If I expected a sly wink or an understanding smile, I received nothing of the kind. Her face was stoical behind the butterfly mask she wore; she touched her jaw, speaking into the microphone implanted beneath her skin at childhood. “TBSA Fool's Gold , this is TBSA Comet , Mexico Alpha Foxtrot one-six-seven-five. Do you copy? Over.”
    I was trapped aboard a ship commanded by a lunatic.
    Or so I thought. The real insanity was yet to come.
* * * *

Space pirates were no new thing, to the System. There were always some corsairs infesting the outlaw asteroids or the wilder moons of the outer planets.
—Hamilton; Outlaw World (1945)
    One good thing could be said about standing a second consecutive watch on the bridge: I finally learned a little more about Jeri Lee-Bose.
    Does it seem surprising that I could have spent three weeks of active duty aboard a spacecraft without hearing a shipmate's entire life story? If so, understand that there's a certain code of conduct among spacers; since many of us have unsavory pasts that we'd rather not discuss, it's not considered proper etiquette to bug someone about private matters unless they themselves bring it up first. Of course, some shipmates will bore you to death, blabbing about everything they've ever said or done until you want to push them into the nearest airlock. On the other hand I had known several people for many years without ever learning where they were born or who their parents were.
    Jeri fell into the latter