Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Well—” I began.
“Captain Turk wants me to train this young pup,” Gurflug said, before I could get anything else out. “Don’t worry—I’ll be the one plotting our jumps—not him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing yet,” he added, giving me a condescending look.
I was flooded with frustration and anger, but the cook only nodded.
“Yeah, well—gotta get back to my greasestain,” he remarked. “It’ll burn if I don’t stir it.”
“Wait!” Gurflug said quickly. “My good man, I wonder if you’ve ever heard of Galafruxian slime stew? I’m only asking because it’s so very nutritious and delicious—I’m sure the rest of the crew would just love it. So if you could possibly add it to the menu—”
“No,” the cook said flatly.
Gurflug opened his bulging purple eyes very wide in apparent surprise.
“Excuse me?” he asked, sounding astonished. “But my good man, I am your new ship’s navigator! It’s tradition aboard most ships for the navigator to be given a say in the menu.”
“The Illyrian ain’t ‘most ships.’ And looks to me like you ain’t the only navigator,” the cook said coolly. “Now ‘scuse me—gotta stir the greasestain.”
He disappeared back into the galley again, leaving Gurflug scowling.
“You!” He rounded on me, glaring. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d have my slime stew any time I wanted it! A ship’s crew reveres their navigator but you’ve brought the worth of the position down just by being here!”
“I have as much right to be here as you!” I snapped. “Turk hired us both and anyway, I’m the better navigator.”
“Oh, Turk is it? So you and the captain are on a first name basis?” Gurflug raised his greasy eyebrows—which looked like they had mold growing in them.
“I have to agree with the Galafruxian, lad,” Snuffy said, frowning. It’s an offense not to give the Captain his due deference. So it is. So it is. Best call him by his title.”
His words stopped me cold. Damn it—I needed to be careful how I referred to my Fated Mate! I was used to just calling him by his first name because that was how Slade addressed him. But that wouldn’t fly aboard The Illyrian.
“I’m sorry,” I said, speaking to Snuffy, not Gurflug. “I…I got angry and I misspoke.”
“Very well.” He nodded, his long nose twitching. “See that it doesn’t happen again. Now come on, the two of you! I’ve still got to get you uniforms and show you your bunk before we lift off.”
We left the mess hall and the galley behind and Snuffy led us down another narrow corridor to a small door marked ship’s supplies. He ducked inside for a moment and I heard him muttering to himself.
“One extra-extra-extra large and one extra small. Let’s see now, do we have them? Do we? Do we?”
A moment later he emerged holding two uniforms on hangers. He handed the much larger one—which looked as big as a large bed coverlet—to Gurflug and the smaller one to me.
“Here you are—keep ‘em neat. You only get one chance a week at the steam-cleaner so you have to be careful,” Snuffy told us. Then he asked our shoe sizes.
“Forty,” Gurflug replied at once, but it wasn’t so easy for me. I had grown up wearing women’s shoe sizes, of course—which were quite different from men’s. Even the shoes I had on at the moment that went with my “man disguise” were women’s—they were just very plain and had no heel.
“Now then, now then—surely you know your shoe size?” Snuffy asked, frowning at me.
“Er, I mean—” I began, wondering if I should just guess.
“I’d say you’re a seven. Maybe a seven and a half,” Snuffy said, his nose twitching as he studied my feet.
“Yes, that’s right,” I said, hoping it was.
“Very good. Very good.” He ducked back into the room and reappeared in a moment with two pairs of black boots. One pair was enormous—he gave those to Gurflug. The other looked like my size and he handed them to me.
“Thank you.” I nodded as I took them.
“Now then—let’s go. Let us go,” Snuffy said. “This way to your quarters.”
He led us down the corridor again. I was concentrating on keeping up with him but then we passed an open door into an area that made me stop in my tracks.
It was a large, tiled room with multiple water nozzles sticking out of the walls at intervals. I counted ten of them in all. There was a silver drain in the middle of the floor and soap dispensers mounted on the walls.
“Hey now, lad—why did you stop? Why?” Snuffy asked, frowning over his shoulder at me. “Have you never seen a communal shower before?”
“So those are the showers?” I tried to keep my voice level but the tiled room looked like a nightmare waiting to happen.
“So they are, so they are!” Snuffy said, nodding. “Every night an hour before lights out we’re all down here getting nice and clean.” He shot a glance at Gurflug as he spoke. “Captain’s orders, don’t you know,” he added. “Nobody’s allowed to be smelly when we all live together so close-like. No they aren’t. No, they are not.”