The Silver Ships

by S. H. Jucha

  Alex grinned as he told Renée of his parents’ shock when they received the GM’s comm. No longer would they have to waste precious time hauling their cargo inward to Cressida, Ganymede’s moon, or the Niomedes habitats. Instead, they’d only need the outpost at Sharius for supplies and reaction mass, providing, of course, that Alex’s program worked.

  Nearly a year passed before the asteroid had arrived at its destination, during which time they had launched nine more, four of them to a competitor of Purity Ores. The long time-frame was the essence of Alex’s program. Previous explorer-tug captains attempting the same feat had launched their asteroids directly at the future position of their target, but their tugs’ inferior tracking equipment invariably created substantial errors, including sending one ice asteroid on a collision course with New Terra. His parent’s tug, being the exact same government model, was no better, which was why Alex took a different tack. First, he used Sharius’ Tracking Control Center to establish his ship’s and his target’s exact positions. Then, rather than launch at the target, he sent the asteroid inward at an angle that placed it in the target’s path, using decades of historical planet and moon rotational data. In essence, the target body and asteroid approached each other at a shallow angle. It took over twice as long as a direct delivery, but after the first asteroid arrived, the others quickly followed.

  That first asteroid was good sized at 2400 meters in length. He recalled his parents’ anxious monitoring of the daily telemetry updates from Station Tracking. His mother was amused by his lack of concern and his father wasn’t.

  The news media carried the story of the system’s first accurate passive ice asteroid delivery and an interview with Timothy Greene, the GM of Purity Ores. Apparently, he’d been surprised to learn from Cressida Tracking Station that his delivery was in the moon’s immediate path and he needed to dispatch a tug forthwith.

  Alex laughed at the memory.

  “You did this without a SADE?” Renée marveled.

  “That’s what fingers and toes are for,” said Alex and mimed counting on them.

  She smiled at his humorous remark, but wasn’t fooled by his self-deprecation.

  His story finished, he turned to watch the stars twinkle and dance, alone with his thoughts. A little while later, he said good evening to Renée and left for the Outward Bound.

  Renée remained on the bridge, observing the stars, and contemplating fate, luck, or the old Earth gods, whichever you believed in. One or more of them had orchestrated very divergent histories for her people and Alex’s.

  Julien observed René, who remained on the bridge for over an hour after Alex’s departure. Suddenly, her right fist closed and pumped once. He knew the signal, which had been a habit of hers since childhood. A decision had been reached on a subject that she’d probably worried on for much longer than the past hour.

  she announced,

  Following another long silence, she asked,

  he responded.

 

  he said, using repetition to drive his point home.

  she agreed, drawing out the words slowly, as if the statement agreed with the conclusion she’d reached.

  Moments later, she picked up the conversation again.

 

  she murmured,

 

 

  Julien asked, curious to understand her motivations, although he had come to this same conclusion in the early days of his interaction with Alex.

 

  Julien persisted. He had perceived her reticence with Alex, but had been unable to understand her reaction. His personality analysis programs indicated a very high-probability of an excellent match between the two. But, he had to admit, this was the key difference between him and humans…they weren’t always logical.

  She didn’t want to admit to her powerful visceral reaction to the Captain on their first meeting. Since then, she had invented excuses to keep him at arm’s length. But every day that passed, she was less successful at maintaining the façade. Perhaps, just the opposite, she thought.

  Julien heard her use of the plural—ships. It was a conclusion that he had reached seventy years ago, during the first hour of FTL following their attack. It was inescapable. Such an advanced and dangerous craft would not exist alone. Where there was one, there had to be many more. The question that plagued him was where had they gone after the attack?

  -10-

  Alex hailed the approaching fuel tanker. “Thirst Quencher, Outward Bound, Captain Racine here,” He was stationed on his bridge to coordinate the maneuver.

  “Outward Bound, this is Captain Osara. We are 23K kilometers out and approaching from one-seven-zero degrees, down five degrees. Well, that’s one-seven-zero degrees from the ass end of that big ship. You appear to be bow on to us, in inverse orientation. I’d appreciate any suggestions you have for this hook up, Captain Racine,” he requested with more than a little concern in his voice.

  “If you will approach my starboard side, parallel to my craft, I’ll stabilize you with my tractor beams.” Alex replied confidently.

  “You can do that in addition to holding that huge ship?” Captain Osara queried.

  “There is more here than meets the eye, Captain,” Alex assured him. “Trust me. We’ll manage it.”

  Over the next two hours, Captain Osara carefully maneuvered the Thirst Quencher to match the Outward Bound’s velocity and course. He’d been in transit to Sirius with a load of reaction mass when he received the priority call to reverse course and catch the Outward Bound. He cut his main engines two kilometers out and used his maneuvering jets to slowly close the distance, still traveling at nearly 29K km/sec.

  When the Thirst Quencher came parallel to Alex’s ship, only forty-five meters separating them, he called out, “Beams on.” He and Claude had spent the entire day in EVA suits preparing for this moment by rigging Méridien power and comm lines between the Outward Bound and the Rêveur. And the plan worked. On Alex’s call, Julien reversed the energy flow between their ships, and Tara powered up the starboard tractor beams. The sudden dump of power from the Rêveur enabled the tug to pin the tanker while maintaining its hold on the Rêveur.

  The first on comms was Captain Osara. “That was a most impressive display of power, Captain Racine. Pilot reports zero delta-V. We had no idea you had so much pow
er.”

  “Thank you, Captain. But this was a joint effort with the Méridiens. They transferred additional energy to my generators to enable the grab.”

  “So, it’s true, Captain. These Méridiens are the aliens you found.”

  “Did I let that slip, Captain?” Alex deadpanned back.

  Osara’s chuckle was heard over the comms.

  “Let’s just say that I’ve found some lost human cousins,” Alex replied. He let Osara absorb that comment. “Captain, I’m cutting power to my stern beam and will meet your refueling crew at my aft airlock.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain, the crew is standing by with a hose.”

  After the tense moments of the docking maneuver, the refueling was anti-climactic. A crew of four, housed in EVA mech-suits and hooked to safety lines, hauled the tanker’s fuel hose to Alex’s aft airlock, where an access port was embedded in the hull.

  Tara managed the flow of reaction mass, topping off the ship’s primary and auxiliary tanks, which were attached to the spine of the tug. Alex had added the extra tanks despite his design engineer telling him repeatedly he’d have little need for them given his over-sized main tanks. “Thanks for the excellent advice,” Alex murmured to himself as the Thirst Quencher’s crew finalized the refueling process.

  Julien, monitoring comms, smiled to himself. He often heard Alex speaking or mumbling to himself when no one else was around and understood that the Captain was comforted by the sound of a human voice, even if it was his own. For one so young, you have been alone too long—we both have.

  The tanker crew retreated to their ship, hauling in their hose and safety lines. The Captain hailed Alex and offered some parting words. “Captain, it’s taking all my self-discipline to keep from requesting a visit. But I’ve been advised, in no uncertain terms, that my contract would be voided if I stepped aboard either of your ships. So, let me just say, it would be my pleasure to buy you a drink, make that several drinks, and hear your story someday.”

  “The offer is appreciated, Captain,” Alex said. “If the opportunity presents itself, I’ll be happy to accept. Safe voyage, Captain!”

  “And to you, Sir, safe voyage! It appears you have the greater need.”

  After the tanker’s departure, Alex reprogrammed his deceleration burn to bring their ships into a close orbit about New Terra. Tara would monitor their progress and alert him in case of difficulties. He climbed back into his EVA suit for the return trip, which had become a daily drudgery, morning and evening. He had considered asking Renée for a sleeping space aboard the Rêveur, but he didn’t want to be an imposition. Once he was safely inside the Rêveur’s airlock, he requested Tara initiate the engine burn.

  An odd feeling overcame him as the airlock cycled. The Outward Bound had been his dream, and he’d worked for years to earn the creds to make the ship’s final payment only months ago. He thought he should feel disloyal for focusing his efforts elsewhere. But as the inner door slid open and he stripped off his suit, a smile crossed his face at the thought of joining his new friends for evening meal.

  -11-

  The evening after refueling, Alex sat in his pilot’s chair reviewing his message board. The top one from Minister Drake, addressed to both him and Renée, announced the Minister’s appointment as head of the President’s Negotiations Team to assist the Méridiens, as he put it. His initial request was for an audio conference, as a vid conference’s greater bandwidth required the ships were closer to New Terra.

  Rather than wait until the following morning, Alex used the inter-ship line to notify Renée. The line terminated at Julien, who relayed his comm to Renée, in her cabin.

  she teased.

  “A person could starve to death if they depended on those tiny plates you serve,” he teased back.

 

  Alex chuckled over the exchange. They were both greatly relieved by the refueling. As long as the Rêveur was coupled to Alex’s ship and he could control their course, it allowed the Méridiens a semblance of sovereignty, an important distinction in the upcoming negotiations with the New Terran government.

  “The news is that the President has appointed a Negotiations Team and they want a conference call.”

 

  “Your wish is my command, My Lady,” Alex said gallantly and closed the connection.

  Alex responded to the administrator’s office, suggesting a conference call at 13 hours the following morning. He was surprised to receive an acknowledgement, a quarter hour later, confirming the call time. For years his messages had sat at the bottom of queues; it was unnerving to discover his comms were now priority tagged, and at the Ministry level, no less.

  A sudden thought occurred to him, inspiring him to comm his parents. Despite waking them up, they were overjoyed to hear from him and had a slew of questions for him about the ship, the aliens, his health, and many more. After satisfying their curiosity, he explained the reason for his call. While he had a history with Minister Drake, he didn’t know the other team members or how, as individuals, each would approach their responsibilities.

  Duggan and Katie eased his mind by telling him he couldn’t have asked to work with better people. In his father’s opinion, it was exactly what he would have expected of President McMorris. “He’s chosen the three people who have done more for New Terra’s space program than anyone else. They tend to be very progressive thinkers,” he said.

  “I’m a fan of General Gonzalez,” Katie added. “In the years that she has been in charge of the TSF, the negative incidents have fallen to nearly zero.”

  * * *

  Edouard had restored Julien’s comm reception days ago. Unfortunately, the FTL transmission center was located in the stern and Julien still had no access. However, with the inter-ship line, New Terran-Rêveur comms could be managed, albeit through a patchwork process. An added benefit of the inter-ship line was that Alex could manage his message board and comms from the Rêveur’s bridge, provided he didn’t mind sharing with Julien. In preparation for the conference call, Alex gave Julien Tara’s access codes.

  Early that morning, Alex tapped on the door to Renée’s cabin suite. When no one answered, Alex called Julien to ensure that Renée was in her suite.

  “One moment, Captain,” Julien replied.

 

  Renée stepped out of her refresher, confused by Julien’s comm. Then it dawned on her—only one person would be unable to signal her.

 

  she asked, grabbing a wrap and tucking it around her. As she signaled the main salon door open, she thought to snatch her ship harness.

  Julien replied, the humor evident in his tone.

  Before she could deliver a retort, Alex was standing in front of her. He wore the same expression as when they’d first met on the bridge, and she self-consciously tucked a lock of moist hair behind her ear.

  “Is something wrong, Captain?” Renée enquired.

  “Umm, no, I wanted to talk to you before the conference call. Is now a good time?” he asked, trying not to stare at the shimmering, short wrap that barely covered her from breast to hips.

  “Yes, please come in, Captain,” she said as she led him into her sitting room.

  he sent, his tone deliberately dry and matter of fact, despite his desire to laugh.

  Renée sent.

 

  Renée turned around and found Alex’s gaze fixed
on her bare legs, and Julien’s advice sunk home. “If you’ll take a seat at the table, Captain, I’ll return as soon as I finish dressing.” As she entered her sleeping quarters to change, she was aware of the rapid beating of her own heart.

  Alex’s view of Renée was cut off as she entered her sleeping quarters. He didn’t know whether to be upset or grateful, but he settled for grateful since he couldn’t afford to be distracted. “Méridiens,” Alex spoke sotto voce to Julien as he sat down, “seem to be very comfortable with their bodies.”

  “Indeed, Captain,” Julien deadpanned, and confirmed the drop in Alex’s heart rate.

  Julien signaled Renée,

  Dressed in a ship suit and about to return to the sitting room, Renée was stopped in her tracks by the facetiousness of the remark.

 

  Renée heard his laughter as he closed the comm. She stepped back into the sitting suite to join Alex at the table, aware of a change in him. His expression was stern, his hands clasped firmly together—the shy, young man who had come to her door had left in her absence.

  “Renée, you know the value of what you have to offer. Your technology is centuries ahead of ours, and you’re asking very little in exchange for your repairs. You know this, correct?” asked Alex.

  “Yes, Captain, this is understood.”

  “Good, but I urge you ask for one more concession. Ask our government to help arm the Rêveur with weapons so that you can protect yourself.”