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Beeyorn, an Assistant Engineer on the container starship Bundão, was laying on his stomach with his head and arms below the level of the deck plates he had removed. The flow valve of the fuel feed was freezing up again. For the second time this trip. The thing about the failure was no helium 3 was showing up in the environments. It had to be going into the bypass line, but no helium was showing up in that tank either. Helium 3 is the most valuable commodity in the Galaxy. It fueled all the fusion reactors driving ships, turning on lights in the cities and almost everything was touched by its energy one way or another. He had just unfrozen the valve when someone kicked him hard in the ribs.
“What the fuck,” Beeyorn bellowed, getting up ready to fight.
“Where is my fuel going?” the Captain of the freighter demanded.
“There was no need to kick me. I have already fixed the problem, again. The fuel is going into the bypass line then disappearing.” He said trying to calm his anger.
“Find my fuel or I will sell you to recover some of my loss,” the Captain replied, his threat not an idle one.
“I think the line has been tapped between here and the backup bottles on the third deck. I can’t inspect that area while we are loaded,” He replied trying to use a respectful tone.
The Captain’s goat shaped eyes widened causing the iris slit to go round.
“I meant no disrespect, sir. Someone on board is stealing and I physically cannot stop them until we unload in Largos. No one can.” Beeyorn said now nervous about this Centaur Captain being reasonable.
“Tell the Chief Engineer to visit my Parlor.”
“Yes sir. Right away,” Beeyorn did not stop to wipe his hands or replace the deck plates. He must be seen to react to the Captain’s commands immediately. Rounding the corner of the side corridor he stopped and listened for the Captain to leave. A minute later he could hear him climbing the ladder to the next deck. Beeyorn went back and replaced the deck plates and gathered his tools.
The Chief Engineer was in the aft common area for Centaurs. He and two others of his species were standing motionless pressed together side by side. Beeyorn knew they were stoned.
“Chief...Chief...Chief...Chief...,” he started repeating with patience. After a couple of minutes, the Chief Engineer blinked.
“Damn you. What do you want?”
“The Captain wants to see you in his Parlor. He knows someone is stealing helium,” Beeyorn explained.
“Does he know it is me?” the Chief asked, too stoned to realize he had confessed or thought so little of the human he said it to.
“No sir. The tap cannot be found until we unload.”
“Go clean the algae air filters.”
“Yes sir,” Beeyorn said then headed for mid-ship. The Centaur stoners returned to their high.
He walked past the Environmental compartment heading to the human mess room. Entering, he saw his ex-girlfriend sitting by herself. She waved him over. On the way, he picked up his ration plate.
“Hi, Stara. How’s the atmo on the bridge these days?” he asked sitting down with his back to the bulkhead.
“Air is good.”
“Chief wants me to clean the algae filters again,” he replied.
“You did that yesterday.”
“Yeah, the Chief and his buddies are stoned again. So stoned he asked me if the Captain knows he is stealing helium.”
“That is stoned for real. The Chief Navigator keeps wanting to dive deeper into hyperspace to arrive sooner. If we had more helium, maybe we could. As it is, we have barely enough to arrive in Largos. You get any cut?” Stara asked.
“Hell no. Just the shit because it is happening,”
“Seriously Beeyorn, shut it down or we will drop from hyperspace in the middle of nowhere.”
“Already have. I put a block on the bypass. It’s fucked up doing that, the design has a bypass for a reason, but I don’t know what else to do. You going to eat the rest of your protein?”
“You just like to hang out with me because I’m small. Here eat it,” Stara said shoving her plate over.
“Thanks. I’m tired of this ship but can’t afford to get off.”
“Maybe Largos will have some all human crew you can sign on to.”
“Dream on. They are few enough and competition is fierce,” Beeyorn sighed leaning his head back against the bulkhead and closing his eyes. “Why did we break up?”
“You got lazy in bed.”
“Did not.”
“You don’t want to have children.”
“True, but that isn’t a reason not to sleep together.”
“For me it is. Let’s change the subject,” Stara said in a sad voice.
Beeyorn was asleep sitting up. The eighteen-hour shifts had finally caught up with him.
