Julius Rosenthal will make candy no more and other short stories, Nicholas Russell [android pdf ebook reader TXT] 📗

Julius started to say something but the train pulled to a stop before he could. Fredrick grabbed the basket and rushed to Julius; he slipped it onto Julius’ arm and began to push him toward the back. “Now, I need you to remember Julius, the army will stop the train when you get to the border, but they will only do a cursory inspection, and the papers you have use the most recent codes so you have nothing to worry about.

As they exited the rear of the station, the conductor stepped off calling back in a language Julius did not recognize. It seemed Fredrick knew it, as he began to ramble back to the man and push Julius toward the front. “He was expecting more supplies, but the commandant has decided not to send any more. You are his only addition, so hurry up.”

Julius was pushed up the steps leading to the front compartment. Fredrick stuck his head in and spoke to the conductor again, then looked back to Julius, who was standing, confused, at the rear of the locomotive. Both men started to speak, but the train jolted forward and Fredrick jumped back. Julius set the basket down and walked to the door. He kept a firm grasp on the steel support bar and leaned out slightly. He watched as Fredrick turned and started back towards the station. As Fredrick drew near the doors Julius saw the flash of something metallic being pulled from his pocket just before he entered the station and was out of sight.

Julius turned to the conductor and realized that he was now in the hands of a man whose name he didn’t even know and language he didn’t speak. He took a seat on a small bench at the back of the cabin and looked out the window as his beloved homeland was swept away. The basket was sitting on his lap and on top of that was the cookbook he had wanted so dearly. Julius felt sad once again and felt the itch at the corner of his eye, he had no son left to carry on his families traditions. The book seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. Julius let his fingers run across the cover and lets its cool touch remind him of his heritage. He would find someone, someone to carry on all that the Rosenthal’s had stood for. Someone to keep his family alive even if only in the form of recipe book.

Shadows of the Gemmel Anomaly

The flight deck was cold. The Captain always kept the temperature a few degrees cooler than the rest of the ship. He said it was to keep the view ports from frosting over but Ram was starting to think he just liked to torment his pilots. Stepping onto the bridge and with two quick key taps, Ram sealed it from the rest of the ship. It was a habit she had picked up almost a decade earlier. She had been aboard a luxury cruiser when one of the passengers decided to start playing reaper with all aboard. From then on she always sealed the door to which ever room she was in. It was a habit that bordered on an obsession.

Lucinda Ramirez was as trim and fit as could be expected from a woman in her forties working as a pilot on a low end freighter. Even at five–eleven she was the shortest member of the crew. Ram, as everyone called her, kept her fiery red hair pulled back into a tight bun. She considered shaving a few times, long hair didn’t make work easy when artificial gravity went out, but no matter how many times she brought the razor to her head she never could do it.

Taking a seat at the controls she flipped off the power save, on a deep space run every second of juice counted. The main screen displayed a hold signal while it brought the other monitors online. The screen farthest to the right was first; it showed all life support systems were running a tick below optimal, she would need to check that once the full system came online. Next were the engines; a quick glance showed they were running hot. Conklin was on shift last, the twisted little mink had probably pulled power from life support to boost the engines. All the other screens came on without any real variance. Their course was off a few degrees but that was probably just an after effect from running hot.

Ram was halfway through readjusting the power when the door chimed. She glanced over her shoulder to the view screen but was too far to make out who was standing there. Ignoring the chime, she continued adjusting the power back to normal. She was just about ready to start the course adjustment when she noticed a vid-panel sitting at the far end of the console. Looking back to the door’s view screen she was pretty sure that it was Conklin. She grabbed the panel and walked to the door.

Ram tapped the keys and the now unlocked door slid open. Sure enough standing outside was the hairy mess that passed himself off as man. “You were running hot, we’re nine degrees off course.”

Conklin smirked and started to muscle past before Ram held the vid-panel up. He reached for it and she pulled it back “Nine degrees, Conk we were heading for a star.”

He looked past her and then with a quick motion grabbed the device, “We are always heading for a star the only difference is how far we are from it.”

“You play loose with my ship again and I will have your mangy hide as a rug do you understand?” Without thinking about it Ram had reached out and grabbed Conklin’s collar pulling him closer.

“Your ship, right.