Proving True: A Sonia MacTaggert Novel

by Robert Culp

  Proving True

  By Robert Culp

  Text copyright © 2016 Robert W. Culp

  Cover photo © Rolf Wahl Olsen | Rolfolsenastrophotography.com

  Cover graphics by Doug Sanders

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, be they living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  FIRST EDITION: NOVEMBER 2016

  ISBN-10: 1540448061

  ISBN-13:978-1540448064

  Set in Trebuchet MS

  All Rights Reserved

  PROVING TRUE

  Dedicated to my friend Gabe Martin

  May 19, 1982 – October 26, 2016

  I hope you’ve found peace, my brother

  Apollo taught me to rhyme,

  Orpheus taught me to play,

  Andromeda cast down her sign,

  And Vega lights my way!

  John Denver, Joe Henry

  “Spirit” from the Windsong album

  1975

  Welcome (Back) To The Tenth Millennium!

  I’m not going to re-hash everything I said in this part of my first book. I will say that, as before, all planets, sectors, starships, and characters are the intellectual property of Tenth Millennium Games and are used herein with permission. The game system is copyrighted, so nothing can be used without permission.

  I learned a great deal between my first book and this one, hopefully I have not repeated mistakes that I made in the first. All the same, I do crave your indulgence, patience and forgiveness. But above all, I am grateful for your attention.

  For those of you who are new to the adventures of Sonia MacTaggert, I have taken pains to explain some of the story from Stepping Up, which is Sonia’s introduction. For the rest of you, thank you for your continued patronage.

  I use many acronyms in this story. I have included a glossary for your convenience.

  Prologue

  “Captain, we have established orbit around Drelious II. All departments report systems are normal. Probes are ready and prepared for deployment.”

  “Thank you, XO. Any word from Marsha?”

  “Only that she’s happy to be out of Transit, sir. I don’t know how but she can sense Transit motion and she’s not a fan."

  “Oh?” Harmony loved needling his XO from time to time. “Does she manifest this in any particular way?”

  “She says it makes her nauseous sir. Fortunately, said nausea has yet to manifest itself as projectile vomition. But she is the only life form aboard that can tell when the Transit drive shuts down. Aside from those in Engineering, of course.”

  Frederic Harmony chuckled as his hand opened the mass address channel on his holoCom. “All hands, this is the captain. Gallagher has brought us to our assignment as he usually does. We are here to determine this planet’s capability to—”

  “Unknown ship entering the area, sir!”

  “More to follow, Harmony out.” The captain turns to the communication technician. “Open a hailing channel, please.”

  “Open, sir. They are receiving.”

  “Unidentified vessel, this is the science ship Gallagher Captain Frederic Harmony commanding. Welcome to Drelious II. Is there a way we can be of service to you?”

  “Greetings, Captain Harmony. You may refer to me as Grinning Jack Grangiere. Thank you for your hospitality. To answer your question, yes you can heave to, accept my boarding party and assist us in transferring your cargo to my ship, Silver Saber. Perhaps afterwards you and I can share a bottle of wine and celebrate my good fortune?”

  Captain Harmony looks at his XO and mouths the words, “Is he serious?” The XO shrugs.

  “Captain—Grangiere was it? I don’t have any cargo that would be of interest to you. We are a scientific ship, not a merchant.”

  Grinning Jack answers, “Don’t sell yourself short, Captain. Perhaps I want to publish an article? Be that as it may, you do have cargo in which I am interested: your crew. Of those that survive, some may join my harem, some may join my crew and the rest will be sold as slaves. Of course the vessel itself will be sold on the black market for a few pennies per pound. That is of course based on the presumption that you have a few active brain cells and accept your fate without question. If you have some misguided idea of resisting me, it will not end in a way you like. Now, may I have your surrender, please?”

  Harmony mutes the holoCom signal. “That sonofabitch is aptly named. I can hear him smiling. I hope his cheeks hurt.”

  Harmony unmutes his holoCom. “Jack, this is Captain Harmony. I have to admit to a character flaw. I have this idea that I should resist all invitations to surrender. So, you do what you have to do. I’ll do what I have to do. Gallagher out.” Harmony closes the channel.

  “XO, sound the alert. Arm the turrets. Everyone into APE and prepare to repel boarders. Have everyone—” whatever else Harmony was going to say is lost in a scream. Which is followed by gunfire. A small man, probably five feet in height weighing a hundred fifty pounds at the most has bitten Harmony on the neck from behind. To call the man “human” would be generous at best. He is more monster than man.

  “XO! Missiles inbound!” In moments impacts tear through the ship.

  The ship’s lights flicker then go out. The ship’s air is gone. No one aboard knows if the decompression was initiated intentionally or if it’s a result of the attack. The unprotected assailant explodes as the gases in his body boil out in the falling air pressure.

  “Helm!” the XO says into his commlink, “What is our status?”

  “Sir, systems are not responding. We are out of control and in the planet’s gravity field.”

  “How long do we have?”

  “Sir, in twenty minutes it won’t matter. Before then, we can recover. After that, we will crash on Drelious.”

  “Sir, we’re being hailed.”

  “Captain Harmony, this is Grinning Jack Grangiere again. In the interest of science, we’re going to stick around and watch your arrogance lead to the death of your crew. You had the option of doing things the right way. Too bad you elected not to. Oh, and don’t mind my little pet. You’re welcome.”

  “Captain Grangiere, this is Commander Hartwell Fox. Captain Harmony is unable to command. As acting captain, I surrender. We are prepared for your boarding party.”

  Grangiere’s laughter explodes in Fox’s ears. “Not on your life, commander. Only a fool fights in a leaky boat headed over a waterfall. Your captain had the chance for you to all live. He decided you all die. I will confess it’s a pity as I’m certain that someone on that tub would have been a fitting addition to my harem. Alas, we’ll never know. Enjoy the rest of your life. Oh, goody! The popcorn is ready! Silver Saber out.”

  Chapter 1

  At Angus’ House

  It’s the little things that one takes for granted that make life so sweet. I have been at Angus’ house for three weeks now, refreshing, relaxing, reflecting and rebuilding. For example, while sitting on the front porch I can watch the sun melt behind the mountains and their trees, hear the birdsong give way to the chirping of the crickets, the tinkle of the wind chime, feel the breeze on my cheek, and smell the newly mown grass. None of this is available on a starship. I reflect on my starship career. I hired onto Night Searcher as an apprentice engineer. Following some pretty bizarre circumstances, I got promoted to department head and then Captain before I had to relinquish command. Not bad for a girl’s first interstellar trip, I think taking a sip of my tea., I smile at Angus as he settles into a chair beside me.

  “Talking to Bob, are ye lass?” he a
sks as he fills his own mug from the kettle.

  “Bob?” I ask looking at him quizzically. Daisy, Angus’ dog is asleep at my feet. Athena is in the kitchen preparing dinner. Shawna and Freddie are on Atlas, specifically at Danfellows Main looking for departing ships hiring crew. There’s not another soul on the property to my knowledge. “Who’s this Bob then?”

  After filling his mug Angus stuffs his pipe, then nods towards the sunset. “Bob. B.O.B. Big orange ball.” He winks at me and grins his impish grin as he lights the pipe. His tobacco is a potent blend. The wind pushes the pungent blue smoke past him and away from me. The only thing thicker than his smoke is his brogue. Praise Isis he only smokes outside, otherwise the house would reek. We sit quietly for several minutes, sipping tea, listening to the crickets, and watching the sun sink.

  “Uncle, does the pain ever stop? All the people that died, because of me, because of decisions I made.” I ask him. Gwendolyn was taken from me, Sherri was killed in combat, Mack died of some horrible disease, and Captain Prowse was assassinated just to mention a few. Even now, some of the memories bring tears to my eyes.

  He sips his tea and puffs the pipe pensively before answering. “No’ really,” he says at length. “It dulls over the years, the wounds scab over. Then somethin’ ye don’t expect tears the wound open making the pain fresh again. They’ll always live in yuir heart and memory. In time, the good memories will make you laugh rather than cry even though there’s that ache in yuir heart. But the only way the pain would stop would be for you to forget about them. I don’ know about you, but tha’ cost is too high for me.”

  He’s right, as usual. “I suppose so, uncle.”

  More quiet minutes pass.

  “Ye’re thinkin’ o’ goin’ back to space, aren’t ye?”

  “Does it show?” I ask looking at him. He grins and nods. “Aye, I have.” I sip my tea. “I feel I’ve something to prove yet.”

  “Oh?” he holds another match to his pipe. “To whom? You were started as a wrench spinner and were eventually given a starship to command and brought most of the crew home safe and alive. I think you’ve proved your abilities.”

  “Not to me,” I argue. “They gave me the engineering department because they needed a chief engineer and I was the closest thing to a chief engineer they had. They gave me the command because … well, I still don’t know exactly why. And that’s what I have to learn. Do I really have what it takes or was I just in the right place at the right time? Make no mistake, I’m grateful for the opportunities I had aboard Night Searcher just as I am for the ones I’ve had here, and all that ye’ve taught me. But I don’t feel … complete.”

  “Ye’re a grown woman, there’s no doubt o’that.” He pauses and draws deeply on his pipe. “But you need to understand, there’s always a high price for an education the likes o’ which you mean.”

  I nod and drink my tea. We sit quietly as the darkness deepens. Soon the only lights are Angus’ pipe and the fireflies. Daisy has woken and trotted out to the yard, jumping and nipping at the flying, glowing insects.

  “Ah, ye daft, lass!” Angus calls after her. “What will you do with one should you catch it? Leave me a glowing yard bomb the following day?” Of course in the dark I can’t see him, but I know he turns to me. “An’ you, an engineer’s mind never stops workin’ you know that as well as I. What’s on yer idea board now?”

  I sip my tea before answering, “I’m remembering the wormhole Night Searcher went through. In the blink of an eye, we were parsecs away. It occurs to me, that if there were a way to generate a stable, predictable wormhole, it would revolutionize interstellar travel. Perhaps even open the door to intergalactic travel.” The distances between planets are measured in millions of kilometers. Between stars it’s in light years, which are billions of kilometers. The gulf between galaxies though, is thousands of light years, quadrillions of kilometers. Contemporary ships, as fast as they are, would still be in Transit for generations before reaching the nearest galaxy. “Of course, the trick would be to know where the other end would be. And to make sure it will stay open long enough.”

  “Aye,” Angus says, “Tha’ would be somethin’.” He puffs more on his pipe. “O’ course, some jackanapes would try to weaponize it.”

  It’s never really a pleasant thought to realize that what is intended for good might be used for ill, but I can’t help but giggle. “And an effective one it would be. I can imagine the surprise when a raider assumes an attack position on a big fat merchant, suddenly there's a flash of light and they're over the event horizon before they can say 'Bob's your uncle.' That would be a bit easier because whoever is generating it wouldn't necessarily care where the other end is.”

  “Aye, or narrow it down so it occurs inside the target. That would probably tear the ship in half. Or cause a planet to explode.”

  “The liberals should be happy though, with dropping an entire ship through the hole, that is. The enemy crew would still be alive.”

  “Aye, ya dinna kill’em outright,” he takes a long draw on his pipe. “But you have potentially sentenced them to a slow, lingering death. Fer me, it would be kinder to kill’em.” He’s right again. As he reminds me often enough though, at his age, being right has become a habit. I try to divert the thought string.

  “I’m sure the power requirements would be astronomical, no pun intended. A 2,000-ton ship would probably only have three people as crew. The bulk of the vessel would be engines, weapons, the wormhole generator, and your power cells.”

  “Fit for exploration,” he says. “But not much else.”

  “Aye.”

  He pours himself some more tea. “What else is rattlin’ round in that noggin o’yours?”

  “Some way of being invisible. There were a few times when just being undetectable would have helped.” My own mug is empty, but I don’t want any more. “I remember casualties we probably could have avoided, had no one seen the troopers.”

  A light comes on behind us as Athena has opened the door. “Dinner is prepared. I could not avoid overhearing your conversation. I would be remiss to not point out that there were also times Night Searcher could have benefited on the attack had the foe been ignorant of our location.” She is also right, but as she’s an android, I’ve come to expect it. Angus and I collect our mugs and go inside.

  Chapter 2

  Six days later, my perCom beeps. Is Shawna calling me from Atlas? “Hey, honey. There’s a transport setting out for Goliath. A sizable corporation is hiring all kinds of crew for scientific expeditions with a slight military twist. Freddie got a billet as a trooper, and they hired me as a ship’s vehicle pilot. They’re asking for engineers as well. Freddie, consummate namedropper that he is, mentioned you and Night Searcher and they couldn’t hire you fast enough. All you have to do is say, ‘Yes.’”

  Angus and I have already discussed this. “Then I’m saying it. I’ll hop a transport to Atlas tomorrow and be there as soon as I can.”

  “No need, babe. I said, ‘sizable corporation,’ there’s a Messenger class ship at the Lemuria starport. Did you think I had coin enough for an interplanetary call? I don’t but thanks for thinking I do,” she laughs. “I’m at the beach until you get here, but as soon as you say so, the jets get hot and we go to Atlas.”

  “Good enough. I’ll grab a Magtrain and see you sometime tomorrow.”

  “Awesome! I’ll tell Freddie. Hugs, kisses and deep tissue massage!” The connection breaks.

  “Uncle Angus!” I yell. “We’re dining at the Purple Heather tonight, my treat!”

  He yells back, “No, we’re not! I’ve ordered out for haggis, Athena has prepared it and you’re going to eat it! You’ve been promising me you would for weeks and ye’ve dodged every opportunity.”

  Right again.

  After clearing away the breakfast dishes the following morning, Athena calls for a transport to take us into town. I hug Angus and manage to hold my tears until we’re out of sight of the house. I buy the tic
kets at the Magtrain depot to Lemuria. Shawna didn’t give me any particulars about the courier or its location so I can’t do any of the preliminary paperwork the government requires. I can’t even supply a better location than the starport—and that’s really just a guess.

  On the Magtrain I take the window seat, Athena has the aisle. I pull my perCom from my daypack and look at the contact data I have for Angus. He assured me that Mr. MacDougal was happy to be a point of contact for him. I still don’t understand why Angus won’t have a holoCom installed or buy a perCom. I don’t buy his argument that there’s no way to keep people from listening in; but there’s no persuading him.

  “On the way to Lemuria we’ll pass through several library networks,” I tell Athena. “I’d like you to download any factual documents on black holes and wormholes, please. I’ll read them when we get into Transit.”

  “Of course, peer reviewed only?”

  “That would be preferable, but it’s not a requirement.” She nods. As an android, she’s not built for chitchat or idle conversation. The train begins the journey and I soon drift off to sleep. When the train pulls into the station, I check my perCom while Athena claims our luggage. Four hundred emails are in my inbox, all from Athena. The most recent is entitled, “Summary.” I open it and read that there are three suspected wormholes in the Ramaris sector. The first is three parsecs rimward of Morg, the second is two parsecs spinward of System 033, and the third is five parsecs trailing of System 02. There is a large black hole rumored to be in the Lucan sector but it has been neither properly investigated nor documented. “Athena, I need another thing from you, please. Can you do a patent search and see if Peter Scholnich ever patented his armor design? There’s a possibility that his work has become public domain, but if not, I want to profit from it even if he was unwilling to do so.” Captain Prowse willed me a significant amount of money, but an independent income stream is always a good thing.