Free Prison Ship by Michael Bowers Page B

threat of attack. He raced past it without a second thought.
    A small gunship closed distance in the front viewport, all weapons trained on them.
    The navigator, Simmons, sat at the communication console, begging the other vessel’s commander to wait. He backed away from the mouthpiece to allow Steiner to speak into it.
    “This is Captain Jacob Steiner. Hold your fire.”
    “Transmit the appropriate password,” came the response.
    “I was asleep. Stand down.”
    “You have twenty seconds left to comply.” The channel went dead.
    Idiots, Steiner shouted silently. Even though he and his crew were prisoners, they deserved to be treated with the same respect due other U.S.S. personnel.
    He slid into his command chair to access the shielded keyboard. His fingers hesitated above the pads. A wave of panic swept through him when he realized that he had forgotten to bring Suzanne’s computer pad. In his hurry, he had left it next to his bed.
    He searched frantically though his memory. What was the password? It started with “PAV.” What were the numbers that followed? It had been a simple series with several repeating digits. If there weren’t any urgency, he would probably be able to remember.
    “Captain,” Tramer said emotionlessly. “They have been waiting too long already.”
    Steiner glanced up at the cyborg. Its words hinted urgency, but its face showed none. Even in a crisis, this thing still didn’t show a trace of emotion. No fear. Nothing.
    The gunship made a wide loop as if it were about to make an attack run. Would it actually fire on one of their own?
    “Captain, transmit the password,” Simmons cried out.
    “They’re going to destroy us.”
    The password. Didn’t it start with a seven? Two nines were in it too. What was the last pair of repeating numbers? One, two, three—three. That was it. He typed into the keyboard, “PAV:73993.”
    The gunship broke off from its charge at the last second and sailed over them. It sped off into the distance.
    Simmons gave a heavy sigh of relief.
    Julio Sanchez glared back at Steiner from the helm. “Any orders, sir?” he asked in a low tone that seemed to hint at contempt.
    “Continue on previous heading,” Steiner replied firmly.
    After a brief hesitation, Sanchez phased the ship into starspeed.
    Steiner’s insides felt like they were dropping into his knees as the star field faded away. He stayed in the command center for a moment to allow the sensation to pass. Shame burned within. Whatever fear the convicts had of him had probably been destroyed.
    Steiner stood up as proudly as he could and departed. Tramer’s sensor orb followed him out.

CHAPTER 8
     
    “THE odds are favoring me today,” Mason said as he laid his cards on the table. He had a full house.
    With a growl, Bricket threw his cards down, revealing only a pair of sevens. “Not again. You must be the luckiest pirate around.”
    Standing inside the entrance of the bar, Steiner watched them from a distance, rubbing his chin, letting his new beard growth prickle against his palm.
    Eddie leaned against the doorframe, keeping out any passing crew member who didn’t qualify to enter the establishment.
    Steiner smiled at him, but the man just ignored him. He returned his attention to the poker players across the room.
    Nearly a week had passed since the launch, and no one had attempted to harm him yet. Since Joseph Barker never made it out of the space dock before being killed, Steiner had expected someone to have come at him already. What were they waiting for? The impending danger had begun to sprout up like weeds of paranoia within the gardens of his mind, beginning to undermine his rationality. He couldn’t fight the feeling that something was building on the horizon, preparing to explode soon.
    The air in the bar was clear of smoke and only slightly stank of stale liquor. Quiet rumbles of voices flowed from three small groups of convicts, sitting in the far corners. While Bricket gambled with