Free Starbridge by A. C. Crispin Page B

anything else happens, okay?"
    Mahree realized she was hungry. With all the excitement, she'd skipped breakfast and forgotten lunch. Now, her stomach seemed as empty as vacuum, and she felt weak and disoriented.
    "I'm going to get a sandwich," she announced, sitting up. "Anyone want one?"
    Moments later, she was making a list.
    Once in the galley, Mahree began programming the servo. Let's see . . . two ham and swiss on rye, one curried chicken salad, one tuna-melt in a pita, a roast beef with cheddar, and, what do I want . . . a nice turkey club. Too bad the real tomatoes and lettuce aren't ready to eat yet . . .
    Of course foodstuffs the servo produced were ersatz, formed and flavored to reproduce the sight and smells of the real article.
    53
    Desiree was a freighter, and lacked the luxuries of the huge, expensive passenger liners.
    Mahree wolfed her sandwich while she waited for the system to produce the others, and, still hungry, ordered up a plate of nachos. "Can I steal one?"
    said a voice in her ear as the nachos slid out of the servo.
    She turned around to see Yoki behind her. "Sure, take some. How's it going?"
    "All right. I've been in the cargo hold, trying to see if we've got anything that might be universally appealing to another species." The older woman took a nacho, dipped it liberally with hot sauce, then popped it into her mouth. She grimaced.
    "Too hot?"
    "Not the sauce," Yoki said thickly. "Cheese is hot."
    Mahree sampled one herself. "So, did you find anything?"
    Yoki shook her head. "Impossible to say for sure . . . but I doubt it."
    Mahree began collecting sandwiches, stacking them on a tray.
    "It's funny how you can get used to anything," Yoki mused. "A couple of days ago we were all beside ourselves with excitement over the possibility that we might be intercepting an alien message, and now, here we are, eight alien ships pacing us and we're thinking about food."
    "I think people reach a point where their excitement quota just shorts out,"
    Mahree observed, pouring coffee.
    "Need help carrying those?"
    "Thanks," the girl said, picking up the sandwiches.
    Yoki gave the younger woman a searching glance. "And how about you, honey? Rob mentioned last night that you were looking a little strained."
    "No, I've been fine," Mahree mumbled, picking up the tray. Dammit, I like Yoki, it's not fair! Why can't things ever be black and white, instead of all these shades of gray?
    The Cargo Chief sighed, and Mahree wondered guiltily if the older woman had read her thoughts. "What's wrong?" she asked.
    "I just hope to hell we don't screw this up," Yoki muttered as she maneuvered the tray out the door. "All of a sudden I've got a bad feeling about this."
    "Well, Simon," Rob Gable began, carefully measuring
    54
    nutrient solution into a beaker, "they've been escorting us for hours now, and nothing bad has happened. If they were hostile, surely they'd have tipped their intentions by now."
    The Bio Officer shook his head stubbornly as he fastened up a trailing beanstalk. "They'd be fools to attack us on the fringes of their territory, when we might be able to get away and make a run for it. It makes a lot more sense to get us where they want us, and then make their move."
    Rob sighed. "Simon, if you try really hard, you can put a negative connotation on even the most innocent actions!" His mouth tightened and he sternly reminded himself that he couldn't afford to allow Viorst to exasperate him. The Bio Officer was stubborn and opinionated, granted, but he was also genuinely scared, and getting mad at him wouldn't help the man conquer--or at least control--his fears.
    "They've given us no reason to think we couldn't just turn Desirie around and head back the way we came," Rob said, after a moment's thought. "Those ships are so small they couldn't possibly stop us."
    "How do you know?" Viorst demanded. "Now you're doing what you always accuse me of doing, Doc--generalizing from what humans do. Any ships we built that were