Drawing Battle Lines

by Robert Culp

  On a hunch, I peruse some of what Peter Scholnich did with portable power units. And I find several useful articles. I make a few notes, craft some sketches, crunch a few numbers, and I like the results. I draft a reply to the message to Chief Jenkins with my ideas and a design for a prototype. I sit back from the holoCom and rub my eyes. I have an incoming call.

  “MacTaggert,” I say as I open the circuit.

  “We are an hour out of Junoon, Captain.” Celeste says.

  “I thought you told me that was going to be a three-day trip,” I tell her.

  “I did indeed tell you that, ma’am,” she says. “Three days ago.”

  That can’t be true! I look at the date/time stamp on Jenkins’ message then to the chronometer on the holoCom. It is true! I’ve been at this for almost three damn days! Straight! No wonder my eyes ache!

  “Captain? Are you still there?”

  “Uh, acknowledged. An hour out, you said? I’ll be there in half that.”

  “Yes ma’am, bridge out.”

  I need a shower. Why am I not starving? I ring for my aide. He opens the door within seconds. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “It has come to my attention I’ve been here for about three days.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “I haven’t been to the chow hall.”

  “No ma’am, you asked me to bring you take out trays.”

  “I haven’t slept or bathed.”

  “Not for me to say, ma’am,” he says. “But I lack evidence to contradict.”

  “Fair enough, dismissed.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He leaves. I stand and stretch, feeling every creak, crack, and pop. That hurts! And make my way to the ’fresher shedding attire on the way. It reminds me of that day on Goliath with Sherri. I don’t feel fresh. I feel…sticky.

  My perCom chirps on the way to the bridge. It’s Chief Jenkins. I toss manners and pleasantries aside. “I gather you’ve received my sketches.”

  “Indeed I have, ma’am. Have you changed your mind about Gorb building these?”

  “I have not. But as you pointed out, you are the Chief Engineer and I’m the Captain. I’m not going to tell you how to run your department…”

  “‘Only to run the department,’ yes ma’am, I haven’t forgotten that.”

  “It is my considered opinion he is the finest engineer on this vessel.”

  “Present company excluded?”

  “Negative. Including you and me. Sometimes he makes me feel like I couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were printed on the heel.”

  He sighs, “Very well, ma’am. Jenkins out.”

  I put the perCom back in my pocket. “Captain’s on the bridge.”

  “Report.”

  “A class eight or nine planet. We have detected a tanker in orbit. We predict about 5,000-ton capacity. There are two cutters, each about 200 tons, running from the tanker to the ocean on the planet. The evidence suggests they’re a fueling operation.”

  The communication tech says, “We are being hailed.”

  I walk over to his post. The incoming message comes from a loudspeaker on his station. “’Bout time you got here, Billy! Did y’uns find them parts? We figured ye got caught or somethin’.”

  I look at Celeste, but she’s already looking at me. “What were they expecting that they thought we were it?” I push the transmit button.

  “Greetings tanker, this is the cruiser Prophecy, Captain Sonia MacTaggert commanding. What sort of parts do you need? And what do you have to trade for them?” With the holoCom muted I look to Celeste, “We’ll try ‘operation friendly’ first.”

  “Uh, greetings Prophecy this is the tanker Tallyho welcome to…aw hell, where are we again?” Celeste and I continue to stare at one another as a second voice comes through the speaker. It’s fainter, like he’s listening but not as close to the speaker grille.

  “Forget it, dude, we’re caught. Let’s just try to get out…Damnit Lennie! Get your finger off—”

  “‘The button’ was probably the end of that sentence,” says the comms tech.

  “What in the nine hells are they doing?” Celeste asks no one in particular.

  “We’re about to find out. Launch two probes, please.” I tell Celeste. I clap the communications tech on the shoulder, “Call Commander Landers for me.”

  His hands dance across the console.

  “Landers, go ahead bridge.”

  “Launch the stealth fighters. We see a tanker in orbit and two cutters going from ship to surface.”

  “Flight of two, aye. Threat and weapons control status?” She’s not wasting time with needless questions.

  “Red hold.” Attack is not expected; fire only in self-defense or on order.

  “Red hold, aye. Birds away in less than ten.”

  “Roger, bridge out.”

  “Is the channel to the tanker still open?” I ask the tech. He nods. I press the transmit switch. “Relax ‘Lennie,’ we’re here on a scientific study. You’ll get no trouble from us unless you want it. Are you a refinery? Is something broken?”

  There are several seconds of silence; I imagine there’s a very spirited discussion on the other end. Celeste presses the mute button and says, “Probes are launched, stealth fighters are being prepped.” I nod in acknowledgement.

  “We don’t refine, we just collect,” the second voice eventually says. “And we don’t want no trouble from you, so we sure won’t start anything.”

  Athena has joined us. “Stealth fighters just launched. The probes are returning data. This is a class nine world, approximately 9,300 miles in diameter. It has a breathable atmosphere, 78 percent coverage in water, three continent sized land masses but hundreds of islands at or exceeding hundred-mile diameter, estimated population is 830 million plus or minus 15%. According to atmospheric and electromagnetic data, they are at a technology level three.”

  “Just on the cusp of an industrial revolution,” Celeste says. “No idea that interstellar travel is possible and probably no idea that there are vessels in orbit.”

  “Much less that their planet is being visited. Open a channel to the stealth flight.” He nods. “Thrumlee, this is Prophecy Actual.” I know she went. She’s gone too long outside a cockpit to resist.

  “Prophecy Actual, this is Thrumlee.” At least she’s not going to try to play innocent or make excuses.

  “Are the cutters setting down in the daylight regions of the planet?”

  “Stand by, checking their telemetry data. Prophecy I can’t swear to it yet, but I doubt that. If I’m tracking them correctly, they’re being very deliberate about setting down on the night side. And the ocean at that.”

  “If I were trying to make a stealthy landing that’s where and when I’d do it,” Celeste says. I nod in agreement.

  “Thrumlee this is Prophecy Actual. Continue the mission.”

  “Prophecy Actual, Thrumlee. Charlie Mike, aye.”

  To the communication tech I say, “Open a channel to Chief Sergeant Okkam.” Again his fingers dance across his console. He points at the speaker. I’ll have to brag on this kid to Chief Nicholson.

  “Okkam.”

  “SarMajor, this is the Captain. Prepare a ground unit, preferably squad sized, armored and armed to visit the tanker in orbit.”

  “Wilco,” Rikk says. “I’ll have them in the hangar bay in less than five.”

  “Roger,” I say. “Bridge out.”

  “Back to the tanker,” I tell the comms tech. He points to the speaker. I thumb the transmit switch. “Tallyho this is Prophecy. Roger that and thank you. We’ll collect our samples and be on our way then. Unless you need anything?”

  “Prophecy this is Tallyho. Good hunting and while we appreciate the offer, we’re good. We’ve sent a courier to get what we need and, if you’ll remember, when you got here we thought you was him. So we’re in good shape! Uh, Tallyho out.”

  Athena puts a data tablet in front of me. The tanker Tallyho is registered on Denzhon
e and as of its last registration is owned by the Kellog-Burns Corporation.

  “Prophecy this is Spooky, the cutters are taking on seawater, I’m guessing 200 tons at a time. Sensors predict about four people aboard each cutter.”

  “Spooky, Prophecy roger that. Make a pass by the tanker.”

  “Prophecy, Spooky wilco. Oh, and by the way, that’s based on the volume of the ship. I looked at a few other things, it should be weighing about 282 standard tons when it leaves the surface, but giving the way it’s moving I’d put it at about 112.”

  “Spooky, Prophecy. Roger all. Continue observation and continue developing the situation.”

  “Wilco, Spooky out.”

  “Bridge, Okkam. Squad is prepared and aboard the assault shuttle.”

  “Roger that, SarMajor. Stand by.”

  I turn to Celeste and Athena. “Okay, speculation time. A tanker that claims it isn’t a refinery is taking on seawater. But the collection cutters are only picking up about half of their capacity, but still making multiple trips. And they’re concerned with ‘getting caught’ so it’s clearly something that is probably illegal on most planets and in most systems. What are your conclusions?”

  Athena speaks first, “The most likely explanation is they are taking aboard a life form of some kind. Believe it or not, given the difference in volume versus weight, I think they’re picking up something about the size and mass of a typical humanoid.”

  Celeste says, “From the middle of the ocean? People? To what end?”

  “History suggests slavery, food, and/or fodder for cyborg manufacture.”

  “I don’t buy the people part,” Celeste says as her head shakes. “Fish, whales, coral, some form of marine life with a lower density than seawater. But not people.”

  Athena looks at her. “Seventy-eight percent of this planet is covered in ocean. Perhaps the dominant life form is a water dweller rather than a land dweller.”

  “The scanners on the fighters wouldn’t be able to make the distinction,” Celeste says. “But Prophecy’s can.”

  “Make it happen,” I tell her. “If they’re taking on fish or people I want to know about it. For a variety of reasons.” I turn to the weapons station. “Get a passive lock on the tanker, just for fun.”

  “Prophecy this is Thrumlee.”

  “Thrumlee this is Prophecy, go ahead.”

  “It appears whatever they’re loading, they don’t want part of it. After the last cutter berthed, the tanker vented a significant amount of water.”

  “Thrumlee, Prophecy Actual, return.”

  “Prophecy this is Thrumlee, RTB aye.”

  I turn to Celeste and Athena. “We don’t know what they’re stealing, but they’re stealing something. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” says Athena.

  “I’m convinced,” says Celeste.

  “Hail Tallyho,” I tell the communications tech. He points to the speaker. I thumb the transmit button. “Tallyho this is Prophecy.”

  Thirty very long seconds later we hear, “Prophecy this is Tallyho. What can we do for you?”

  “Funny you should ask, heave to and prepare to be boarded. By authority of the Academy of Ancients on behalf of the free world Junoon I order you to prepare your vessel for an outbound customs inspection. I’d rather not fire on you to establish authority, but if you do not acknowledge and signal your compliance I will do just that.” I release the transmit button and turn to the weapons station. “Active targeting, propulsion systems if you can pinpoint them.”

  “Active lock propulsion, aye.”

  “Chief Sergeant Okkam, this is the bridge.”

  A voice I don’t recognize says, “Go ahead, ma’am. He’s listening.”

  “You are green lighted, signal your pilot to depart as soon as you are ready.”

  Okkam’s voice sounds distant, like he’s speaking into someone else’s perCom. “Roger that, bridge. We’re on the way ASAP.”

  “Prophecy this is Tallyho we surrender; we got no weapons. Your boarders will be pretty bored.”

  I wish I believed him.

  “Status?” I ask the technician at the weapons station.

  “Positive lock, ma’am, lasers and missiles. Meson cannon is coming on line…now.”

  “Meson cannon? I don’t want the ship destroyed yet.”

  “Begging your pardon ma’am, we don’t want to need it and not have it. Worst case, we don’t use it and the charge goes back into the ship’s power grid.”

  On the view screen we watch our shuttle maglock to the fueler or whatever it is.

  And we wait.

  At the three-minute mark Athena announces, “Small arms fire aboard Tallyho.”

  “Stupid kids” I hear myself say. “Stupid lying kids.”

  “Prophecy this is Avatar zero six,” I recognize Rikk’s voice. “The crew of Tallyho resisted our inspection. They are now dead. Zero friendly wounded, extend our thanks to Actual for the armor. We have counted one one two humanoids in what would usually be the processed fuel holding tank. The tank is filled with water but the occupants appear to be asleep. Additionally, we found two two young females in a separate tank, for lack of a better word, also unconscious. Do we have further instructions?”

  “Avatar zero six this is Prophecy Actual. Roger your SITREP, you’re welcome, stand by.”

  “Standing by.”

  I turn to Celeste, “I don’t believe that the Academy wants us to kidnap ambassadors.”

  “Agreed, if we do anything other than return those people to the surface we’re doing them a tremendous disservice.”

  “Athena, at one time that ship was a fueler. Do you think it’s capable of passing through the atmosphere safely?”

  “Captain, that’s really only relevant if you want it to come back to space,” Celeste says.

  “Which we do,” Athena answers. “Like you, I considered that the ship need only survive a splashdown landing in the ocean. Granted, if we scuttled it after returning the people to the sea—and it appears that’s where they belong—they could study it as their technology grows.”

  “Which would accelerate their arrival at interstellar technology—”

  “Quite possibly before the society matured to the appropriate level. So we have to bring it back up. Which was my initial question.”

  “To which the answer is ‘yes,’ Captain. I’ve no reason to believe that ship cannot be flown down to the ocean, disgorge its cargo, and be flown back into orbit.”

  “Can you fly it, Athena?”

  “I believe so, while I have nothing but respect for Commander Lawson, given the mission parameters I feel confident I can perform at least as capably as she.”

  “Very well, go to the shuttle bay, prepare to transfer to the other ship.” She nods and leaves. To the open channel with Rikk I say, “Avatar this is Prophecy Actual, is there room over there for a second shuttle?”

  “There’s no docking port as such, Actual. If you want someone else over here the easiest thing to do would be move our shuttle out of the way.”

  Celeste says, “I think we should leave it where it is until Athena’s shuttle is there. Just in case they need to evacuate or something like that.”

  “Agreed,” I tell her. To Rikk I say, “Athena and a medical unit are on their way over. Police up what you can about the previous crew.”

  “Wilco, Actual. Why the medical unit?”

  “The segregated personnel, are they in water as well?”

  “About half, one three are in water, the other nine are not. Do you want the medics to rouse the sleepers?”

  “Under no circumstances. But if they belong in water I’d like to return those singled out to the general population.”

  “Roger that, we’ll get the place squared away for them.”

  “I’ll alert the medical department,” Celeste says.

  I walk over to the weapons station, “Do you have eyes on the cutters?” It’s an old, inaccurate expression, but he understands what I want
and turns to his scanners.

  “I tracked them to the surface but lost them in the background clutter. I figure them to be in the ocean.”

  “‘In’? You think they’re underwater?”

  “Just a guess, but if they’re uploading water and merpeople that would make sense.”

  “‘Merpeople?’”

  He shrugs, “I can say that faster than ‘indigenous aquatic humanoid lifeform.’”

  “Works for me, merpeople it is. Keep an eye peeled, if a cutter enters orbit, I want to know and I’ll want a firing solution.”

  “You’ll have both, ma’am.”

  “Captain, Commander Lawson for you.”

  I return to my chair to don my headset. I should have put this on long ago. “Thrumlee, this is Prophecy Actual, report.” Now I can move around the bridge and stay plugged into the communications network.

  “Actual, Thrumlee, we took it upon ourselves to do a search. Both cutters are on an island—specifically just off the beach—we’ve conducted a few low level passes. We see no life signs, no movement. I’d bet a week’s pay they’re abandoned.”

  “Roger that, communicate the location to Avatar and put down a locator. Avatar did you monitor that?”

  “Affirmative, Actual. How big an element do you want me to send?”

  “If you’re calling the ship you’re on secure, I’d like you to leave at least two troopers on Tallyho, just in case.”

  “That’s going to leave me a little thinner than I’d like. Can you send me four troopers with the medics and Athena?”

  “I’ll make it happen, SarMajor.”

  “They’ll be standing tall in the shuttle bay in three, ma’am.”

  “Roger that, Prophecy Actual out.” I turn to Celeste. “Have two pilots get on that hop as well. They’ll…disregard that. Avatar, this is Prophecy Actual. After you’ve cleared the two cutters, destroy them in place. Acknowledge.”