Free The Garbage Chronicles by Brian Herbert

without looking at him.
    Javik mento-banked the ship, giving him a clear view of Guna One. This time there was no pain around the mento transmitter, and he hoped it wouldn’t bother him again. As he looked through the glassplex side window, he saw that the planet had flowing greens of varying shades, along with browns and blues, much like the colors of Earth. Quite a number of moonlike craters dotted the landscape, apparent evidence of meteor activity. Swirling, misty gray clouds moved rapidly across the surface, providing different views through cloud clearings every few seconds. Feeling the engines vibrate again, Javik glared at his instruments.
    Evans removed her headset and stared at Javik. His features were drawn and tired, with hair matted on one side of his head from sleeping against that spot and not combing it out afterward. She took a deep breath, then said, “You might at least be civil.”
    “Shut up,” Javik blurted. He paused. Evans saw his deeply set blue eyes half turn in her direction, seeming to stick their gaze in the vicinity of the windshield’s center. His lips moved angrily as he muttered something under his breath.
    “You’re being rude.”
    “Just follow orders. Why is this damned thing running rough?”
    “I’ll ask Mother,” Evans said.
    “Adjust the engine polarity,” Wizzy said.
    Looking aft, Javik saw Wizzy resting on the back of Blanquie’s chair. “What?” Javik asked.
    “Increase engine polarity seven point three two percent,” Wizzy said. “Shall I make the adjustment, Captain?”
    “No. Where do you get that?”
    “Unusual planetary magnetics here,” Wizzy said, “caused by rare subatomic monopoles. See those craters down there? This place attracts junk from all over the universe.”
    “Your meckie is playing science officer,” Evans said. Then she spoke into her dash mike: “Mother, what’s wrong with the engines?”
    “Unable to determine,” Mother said, using a mellow computer voice.
    “Should program a survival instinct into Mother,” Javik said. “She sounds too calm, no matter what’s going on in the cabin.” He glanced back at Wizzy.
    “The magnetics problem is not revealed by your instruments,” Wizzy said. “But I know it to be true.”
    The ship rumbled again. This time the vibration was worse and continuous.
    Javik cursed.
    “My teeth are knocking together,” Evans said.
    “Just try the engine adjustment,” Wizzy said. “If I’m wrong, you’ll know soon enough.”
    “Make it!” Javik said.
    Wizzy tapped a computer keyboard on the science officer’s console. Then he returned to the chair back.
    Javik felt the engines smooth out. He nodded with resignation and turned forward. Is everything Wizzy says right? Javik wondered. Even that story of magical nurinium being sprinkled around the universe?
    “This ship needs a science officer,” Wizzy. said.
    “We can get along,” Javik said.
    “I know the inadequacies of the Theory of Relativity,” Wizzy said, “and what happens when G-gas mixes with—”
    “Okay!” Javik said. “You’ve got the job!”
    “Science officer, first class?” Wizzy asked.
    “All right, damn it!”
    Wizzy squealed with excitement.
    Javik ordered an atmospheric readout from the ship’s mother computer.
    “Like Earth in many ways,” Mother reported, “with nitrogen, oxygen, argon, carbon dioxide . . . ” The computer read off other elements, then said, “There are four unknown elements.”
    Wizzy glowed red to utilize his data banks. “The key unknown is nurinium,” he said. “The same stuff I told you about in the droids.”
    Javik rolled aft and mentoed the science officer’s CRT screen. It confirmed Mother’s report, listing four unknown elements. Javik tugged at an eyelash and pursed his lips thoughtfully.
    “I know what I’m talking about, Captain,” Wizzy said. “Trust me.”
    “Magic?” Evans said. “You’re talking about magic?”
    “That’s right,” Wizzy said.
    “Assuming