The cabin door creaked as it opened. I gritted my teeth, inwardly cursing myself for not buying that can of WD-40 from the engineers when I'd had the chance. Twelve star-bucks was suddenly seeming like an absolute bargain.
I peered through the gap. The corridor was empty and I couldn't hear the clomping of jackboots on metal flooring. That would soon change, I realised, as I looked down at my own boots. That was the problem with military vessels, no one gave much thought to stealth. And if I was going to leave without Him noticing, I was going to need it.
I looked around, wildly, for anything that might help. My eyes found a small hover trolley a little way down the corridor, no doubt left by a servo-droid. Five years out in space had left some of the older models a little bit dodgy. No doubt because the nearest Wi-Fi was about twenty-six trillion miles away, leaving them unable to update their software. So, sometimes mistakes were made like leaving cleaning equipment lying around or pouring hot soup over someone's head instead of into their bowl.
It was usually annoying but, in that moment, I gave thanks to the inadequacies of modern software. I quickly tapped some commands into my Remote-Boi wristband and summoned the trolley. It floated towards me, soundlessly, coming to a stop right outside my door. Perfect.
For what must have been the hundredth time in the past half hour, I made sure the Package was secure before pulling open the door and jumping onto the trolley. Too late I noticed that it was still loaded with cleaning supplies. I was just able to get my left foot to land on the edge of the trolley while I grabbed onto its side-rails. Unfortunately, my right foot went straight into a bucket. I grimaced as lukewarm water filled my boot. As if to add insult, a mop, jolted by my landing, toppled over, knocking me on the head as it fell. Unable and unwilling to move any further, I pressed a new command into my Remote-Boi and the trolley began to glide along with me almost hanging off the edge of it.
I only needed ten yards, I thought, ten yards and I'd be in the clear.
A door handle rattled. It was the door to the cabin right next to my own.
Oh, space-bollocks!
Lieutenant Colin Gray stepped into sight. His eyes immediately locked with mine. I held onto the trolley, frozen, no idea what to do, as it continued to hover along, annoyingly slowly, filling the otherwise silent corridor with the hum of anti-gravity. For a moment we just stared at each other, his eyes following my progress.
I couldn't believe it. I'd fallen at the first bloody hurdle. Step one; go ten yards without the nosiest git in the whole company spotting me. And said git was still looking at me as I continued to cling onto my perch.
'McCue?'
'Colin.'
Gray slipped a stick of gum into his mouth and began chewing it, loudly.
'Can I help you with something?' he asked.
'Nope,' I said, quickly, 'no, I've got this under control, thanks.'
There was a pause.
'Alright then,' Gray said, finally. He went back inside and closed his cabin door with a click.
For a moment I could only stare, unable to believe my luck. That prick had once asked the captain the same question so many times that the poor man had had a nervous breakdown. But he'd just let me off the hook?
Suddenly, remembering that time was a factor, I hopped down off the trolley, shook the bucket off my foot, and broke into a jog.
'We have a small window of opportunity here, Lieutenant,' the Colonel had said when he'd given me the mission, 'and you're the only one I can trust with this. The other officers are supporting the Marshall's plan but I know you feel the same way I do. I'd go myself, but sadly I need to support that ass like I'm one of those other half-wits or be relieved of command. So I'm trusting you not to cock this up.'
