Rogue Galaxy, Episode 1: The Captain and the Werewolf Read Online Free PDF Page B

because of Lieutenant Summers having transformed into a werewolf and gotten loose in the Thompson Tubes.
    The two old-timers didn't seem to need a liaison; they seemed to get along quite well on their own. They almost could have been siblings, she sometimes reflected, but then would realize that was probably only because she thought all old people looked the same. They did share the same pure white hair; but whereas Betty Carlson was perhaps five feet tall and plump, John Walsh looked like one of his ancestors might have been an oak tree. His eyes were a beautiful clear blue, Carlson's a warm brown.... One thing Tracy supposed they did have in common was that ruddy, friendly, open quality of their faces. Besides, they'd been married for almost forty years, and Tracy had read that married people wound up looking alike, though marriage had been so rare for the last fifty years that Tracy really wouldn't know.
    One would have thought that their being married would make a liaison even less necessary. But it was customary for one to be assigned, just as it was customary for the Ship's Doctor and Ship's Witch to be a married couple. Anyway, Tracy couldn't complain. The assignment wouldn't have been ideal for someone who wanted to get on the fast track to promotion, but Tracy loved hanging out all day with the pair and listening to them gab.
    “What we need,” mused Carlson, absently pinching her double chin, “is a tranquilizer that werewolves aren't deadly allergic to.”
    “Agreed,” said Walsh. “But, you know, Betty, tranquilizers are really your field of expertise.”
    “I don't see why. Stick it in a pill and bottle it and it's a drug—leave the leaves on and it's still an herb, and those are your bailiwick.... It's too bad we don't have more samples of the Weed of Wonder,” she added, a little wistfully.
    “You think it might be effective on a werewolf?” asked Walsh.
    “Well, it definitely has both soporific and mystical properties. It would be great if we could figure out some way to test it on the werewolf, without having to risk killing her.” Tracy noted the way Dr. Carlson spoke as if the werewolf were calmly waiting in the next room to undergo their battery of tests. She went on: “I think that the Weed might have interesting effects on all sorts of supernatural meta-species. Like a vampire. I'd love to see how it interacts with a vampire.”
    “I'm actually very comfortable with not having a vampire on board,” said Witch Walsh, as he consulted his monitor. “Hang on, let me access the computer models Tracy set up of how the Weed might interact with hypnothoradone and newt-eye....” As he searched the computer for the data, he lapsed into a puzzled silence. Meanwhile dread began darkly tickling its way up Fiquet's spine from low in her belly.
    Walsh frowned at her. “Tracy, didn't you run those simulations that I asked you to set up?”
    “Um, I think I, maybe I forgot, sir....”
    “You forgot ?” repeated Walsh. Carlson eyed her sharply, curiously. Fiquet squirmed and thought about coming clean: admitting that when Dobbler brought the Weed aboard and showed it to her, she hadn't been able to resist her curiosity and had indulged in just a teensy-weensy dose; then, when everything hit the fan and everyone else who'd taken it got caught and Walsh and Carlson had given her a list of all the simulations they'd like her to run on it, she'd still been a little spacey and might have maybe not done as thorough a job as she normally would.
    On second thought, no, she wasn't going to confess any of that.
    Dr. Carlson's knowing scrutiny was hard to bear, but Witch Walsh's flabbergasted disappointment was worse. Finally, he shook his head and, turning back to his screen, said, “Well, get it done, please. That would be a handy simulation to have right now.”
    “Yes, Witch Walsh. I'm sorry, sir.”
    The door chimed and slid open, and Captain Farraday entered. Tracy saluted. Because of their special