“Thank you, OSP Tower,” he replied. “Stay well.”
“Happy trails, Captain,” she replied. “See you the next time. Tower out.”
He gently brought the engines’ power up, gliding away from the station. As the ship left the spin gravity of the OSP, he felt the momentary unsettling of his stomach as he became weightless. Almost immediately, his body adjusted and he was again comfortable. Once he hit the safe zone, he could punch it. Then, he put her on autopilot and go see what their stowaway was doing.
As the ship sailed away, the doctor saw the whole station moving away behind them. She had never had a window on any of the flights she had taken and certainly never a large aft picture window. The view was breathtaking and the doctor found herself transfixed. The spaceport was a circular affair, rotating to generate gravity. A large wheel with a center hub and four spokes, from this distance, it looked like a Celtic cross.
Suddenly, the engines roared loudly and the station disappeared entirely in an instant. Her feet shifted under her with the sudden movement and she found herself on the floor against the back window. She looked out again and there was no sign of the station. Only vapor trails of some kind emitting from the ship were visible.
“Fast ship!”
That was when the door opened and the captain walked in.
“Whoa, mama,” he said in a raised voice, a look of surprise on his face.
Sprawled on the floor as she was, she looked at him sheepishly and laughed weakly, sliding her glasses back to the bridge of her nose.
“Hi.” She made a small waving gesture, hoping to put him at ease.
“Okay, lady, finding you in my bedroom is a point in your favor, but I want answers! You know, if you’d asked, I’d have helped you, but sneakin’ aboard? That ain’t cool.”
He was upset, but not angry. Good, she thought. He offered her a hand, which she gladly took, and helped her to her feet.
“My deepest apologies, Sir,” she said in as respectful and subservient a tone as possible. “I did not want to sneak aboard, but I had no choice.”
“I just knew you’d say that!” He shook his head in frustration. “First of all, who are you?”
“I am Doctor Fiona Kinsale,” she straightened and spoke as formally as she could.
“Why’d you decide to sneak aboard my ship, Doc?”
Given whom she was running from, the doctor suspected that Kendrick might actually be sympathetic to her plight, but she was not ready to share. The less he knew the better. She answered as deferentially as she could.
“My most sincere apologies, Captain. I am a doctor. I have little in the way of financial wealth and I felt that my life was in danger. Those brutes have been following me. I fear that they may want to kidnap me and sell me into slavery.”
Slavery was a legitimate issue; with the colonies growing and difficult to fully police, human trafficking had exploded into an interplanetary business, though the gawky middle-aged doctor did not fit the usual profile of that trade’s victims.
“Not buyin’ it,” he said, shaking his head. “Who‘s after you? Those two Zduhać said that there’s a bounty on you. Slavers don’t hire Zduhać bounty hunters from the Union just to score a girl. Those two are some serious bad news and they don’t come cheap. Not to mention that … you don’t exactly fit the standard victim type.”
“Yes, they are after me,” she said softly. “But slavery is the only reason I can possibly come up with.” This was lame and she knew it. He was not gullible in the least and he already made it clear that he knew that slavers typically did not target women over fifty.
“Why? I need to know who’s on my ship.”
“I already told you; I think they seek to kidnap me for profit. To think of what they might do to me! I am an innocent party in this. Please, you have to believe me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He clearly did not believe her story, not for a minute. Fortunately, for her, he already locked in his course and she was on board whether or not he believed her. The question was, what would he do with her?
Almost as though on cue, he shook his head and asked, “So, what am I gonna do with you? Barely run this thing with just me aboard. Adding you, means a drain on food. Not to mention the associated risks of just having you onboard.”
“I am a doctor,” she reiterated again. “A general practitioner. I offer you my services in exchange for my passage.”
“Yeah, you said you’re a doctor. But you want passage; passage to where?”
“If you will have me, I will serve as your crew in exchange for room and board. Please, Sir, I beg you not to let them take me!”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand before she could finish.
“Even if I ain’t convinced o’ your story, I got no love for them bounty hunters. An’ I could actually use a doctor; so, for now, you’ve got a deal. Come on; I gotta git back to the bridge, an’ I ain’t leavin’ you alone.”
Fiona breathed a sigh of relief, saying a silent prayer of thanks for her gentleman captain as he led her from his cabin.
Colonel Siegfried Tracht was in the Port Security office, fielding questions from an Alliance agent, Xing Jian-Heng. With the O.S.P. technically under United States jurisdiction, Tracht did not need to humor Xing. However, the Alliance had its ways of getting around being blown off, so Tracht humored Xing with at least the appearance of cooperation.
“Was she on board the Selene? Does she still have the material? I demand to know!” said agent Xing, almost yelling. His staccato voice evinced a noticeable Chinese accent.
“Not according to our scans,” replied Colonel Siegfried Tracht, remaining calm in spite of Xing’s raised voice. “Hard to be certain; it is a large ship and difficult to scan, but it seems unlikely that she’s aboard. Though she most certainly still has the material—her life depends on it. Without it, her only value is her knowledge of the process, which as you know, they’re already working to figure out. Once they can duplicate her results, her value decreases exponentially without the material.”
“For your sake, Colonel Tracht, you had better be correct,” replied an annoyed Xing. “Otherwise, this failure will be on you!”
Colonel Tracht turned in his chair to face Xing, and then stood. His expression was one of utter disdain. Standing at a hundred and eighty-five centimeters, he towered over the diminutive Alliance agent. Using his size to its fullest effect, he let Xing have it.
“Agent Xing,” he said in an annoyed tone. “If the scanning equipment on this station is inadequate in some way, you need to take that up with whatever committee buys our equipment. Do not come up here and attempt to throw your weight around in some face-saving effort to try to cover for your own incompetence. You allowed her to escape Earth and subsequently failed to acquire her, both at Tranquility Base and in the bar when you were LESS THAN TWO FUCKING METERS AWAY FROM HER!”
Tracht was now mere inches from Xing, pressing his size advantage for as much intimidation as possible and inwardly satisfied that his efforts were yielding the desired results; Xing looked very nervous. The colonel paused for dramatic effect, and then continued. “By the time you came to us and asked about the Selene, that ship had already been cleared and had left the station. Long-range scans are not as thorough, especially when scanning a ship that fast. You asked for full cooperation and you have received it, but no amount of cooperation on our part can make up for the fact that you bungled your job before the fact. Do I make myself clear?”
Xing bristled, but held his tongue. He knew that Colonel Tracht was correct about the scanning. Although loath to admit it, the Alliance agent knew that the colonel was also correct about his own agents’ bungling of the capture of Doctor Keane. The fact that he did not technically outrank the colonel did not strengthen his position.
“Yes, Colonel Tracht,” he finally replied. “What about surveillance within the station of this ‘Captain’ Royce and Doctor Keane?” Demurring to Tracht had the desired effect; the Marine Corp
s colonel sat and resumed a more cordial tone.
“We’re still analyzing the surveillance footage, but this is what we have so far. Surveillance shows her in the pub at eighteen-forty-five-twenty-six, you seated at the table nearby at eighteen-forty-nine-oh-one,” replied the colonel. “At twenty-seventeen-thirty-two hours, Captain Royce docks in the station. At twenty-twenty-five-twenty-seven, the station personnel commence refueling of his ship. Captain Royce oversees the delivery of his cargo until the last crate is unloaded at twenty-fifty-six-fifty-two, at which point, he signs off on it and heads straight for the pub, arriving there at twenty-one-fifteen-oh-three. Now, because of the band, we lose intelligible audio once he enters the pub. He sits down at the bar with two stools between himself and Doctor Keane.” He paused, sipping his coffee, then continued. “Captain Royce and the bartender look over at the Zduhać then over at you two and then back at Doctor Keane. The bartender shakes his head and says something. The bartender pours him a glass of whiskey, at which point, he turns and seems to watch the band, but is also looking in your direction.”
Xing remembered seeing the leather-clad captain at the pub before the fight broke out. He had not given him any consideration at the time. Now, he wished that he had.
“At twenty-one-fory-five-oh-seven,” Tracht continued, “the Zduhać called Yaroslav stands up and starts a bar-fight. At this point, the band stops playing and we have some audio. Royce stands, approaches Doctor Keane, and asks her if she would like him to walk her from the pub. She agrees and he walks her out right out the front door, where they go their separate ways, her running. Royce is followed by the Zduhać.” Sipping his coffee again, Tracht paused to study him. Xing knew that the colonel was trying to mire him in small details, U.S. military personnel being notoriously uncooperative with the Alliance. He ignored this and played as if Tracht was succeeding, prompting the colonel to continue.
“He makes it back to his ship at twenty-two-oh-four-forty-nine and enters his codes, at which time, the Zduhać approach him and inform him who you and your colleagues are, and that there is a bounty for Doctor Keane. He seems uninterested and one of them grabs him, at which point, Captain Royce immobilizes them and contacts security. Security takes almost twenty minutes to respond.” The colonel chuckled. “Given how much damage those two idiots caused, Royce is going to be hailed as a hero for bringing them down. Anyway, by twenty-three-oh-seven-oh-one, he has given his statement and gotten back on his ship. His ship was fully refueled by twenty-one-forty-forty and Captain Royce transmits his departure codes at twenty-three-thirty-seven, his ship setting sail at twenty-three-forty-thirty-six…”
“Where is he going?” Xing interrupted and was now instinctively raising his voice again.
“We don’t know for sure, but…” Tracht began shaking his head.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Xing was now back to almost yelling. What a disaster, he thought.
The colonel was again visibly annoyed, but he refrained from standing.
“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? What do you think I mean? Royce is the space-faring equivalent of a truck and a bus driver. The station uses him for impromptu deliveries of supplies and personnel. His ship is fast and has accommodations for passengers, which makes him ideal for quick schedule changes or sudden parts needs.” Tracht shifted, leaning back in his chair.
This annoyed Xing. He hated the lack of formality that Caucasians frequently displayed.
Tracht continued, uncaring of Xing’s visible annoyance. “Often the more conventional transport companies take a lot longer because they have to reroute ships and sometimes there’s not an available transport for days.” Xing opened his mouth to interrupt, but Tracht paused and turned to him, an annoyed look on his face. “Do you want the rest?”
“Yes,” sighed Xing, deflating.
“Thank you,” said the colonel sarcastically. “As I was saying, his ship sets sail at twenty-three-forty-thirty-six. He accelerates to Mach 25 and clears our space in less than a second and is out of communications range by this morning at oh-thirty-five-oh-two.”
Xing’s eyes widened. “Is his ship really that fast?”
Colonel Tracht turned and looked directly into Xing’s eyes and said, “There are none faster.”
The Selene was about an hour and a half from the Moon. It would be the shortest trip in space that Fiona had ever experienced; an E.T.A. of only three hours after departure from the OSP. She marveled at the Selene’s speed. She was also thankful for it; her pursuers were unlikely to be able to catch a ship this fast. She was surprised that he had ordered her to join him in the cockpit instead of locking her up, but she was thankful nonetheless. Fiona had hoped for some conversation to pass the time, but every attempt to strike up a dialogue was met with brief answers of, ‘uh huh,’ ‘yup,’ ‘nope,’ or ‘I dunno.’ She figured that he did not like her very much, but Fiona could hardly blame him; she had essentially stolen passage on his ship. Fiona could see the moon ahead in the window, shifting her thoughts to a more practical concern.
“Tranquility Base?” She was nervous about that, but had to ask.
“Yeah, why?”
“I narrowly avoided being kidnapped in Tranquility Base. I barely was able to escape and get to the O.S.P.” Tranquility Base was a modular city on the Moon, built at the site of the 1969 moon landing. It was full of shops and people, built around various tech businesses. A dome protected it from bombardment and radiation. Lurking there, were people who would recognize her.
“Slavers, huh?”
His sarcasm was not lost on her. “Captain, please. Clearly, there are people who would love to capture me. I don’t know what they’re after, or if they’ve confused me with someone else, but they may have agents here.” That sounded so weak, I wouldn’t even believe it, Fiona thought, but she could not tell him that the Alliance was after her, not yet.
“Doc, I got the ship on autopilot. Maybe since you’re my ship’s doctor, I ought to you the Med-Bay. It’s on Deck-2 of Pod-Alpha; that’s the pod with my quarters.” He put the ship on autopilot, reached behind his neck, and unplugged a cord.
“You plug into your ship? You have cybernetics?”
“Uh huh. She’s too fast to be run by hand.”
“Is that … legal?”
“Well, I ain’t got nobody chasin’ after me, now do I?” He smiled a crooked smile when he said this, his right upper lip curling slightly.
Come to think of it, he does that a lot, she thought. Fiona looked away, as she blushed and did not want him to see.
Unbuckling his safety harness, Kendrick propelled himself up and out of the chair, floating in mid-air. She did likewise, though she was not comfortable in zero-G. The captain escorted her to the Med-Bay in relative quiet. Thankfully, he did not seem interested in pressing her about her past, or in trying to get her to sleep with him, something she feared he might do initially. She silently thanked God for her honorable Captain.
Doctor Kinsale followed him as best as she could, unused to propelling herself in zero gravity, and finally catching up with him at the lift. He held the door for her and allowed her to enter first, then activated the lift. They rode in silence and the stony silence was uncomfortable, she was hesitant to try striking up further conversation with him, as it only seemed to annoy him. As the lift neared the pod, she felt herself getting heavier and heavier, until the lift came to a stop and spin gravity was in full effect. She almost toppled over, but he caught her and steadied her.
“Thanks,” she said, blushing as he momentarily held her up.
He nodded, leading her down the corridor. The Med-Bay was on the section opposite the officers’ quarters and had a nice port side window looking out into space. The room was not particularly large; more like the health room in an elementary school, but it would do.
“Here we are,” he said, opening the door for her. Now that they were under the equivalent of Earth’s gravity, her stomach felt unsettled. She hated the transition from
zero G to regular gravity.
“Go ahead and get set up,” he told her. “I’ll head back up to the bridge. I’ll let you know when we’re near Luna.”
“Okay,” she said weakly, her stomach slowly settling down. As he turned to leave, she called out, “Captain?”
“Yeah?” He stopped and turned around momentarily.
“Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” With that, he exited, leaving her alone in the Med-Bay.
She began setting up, finding that he had quite a few supplies, but had never bothered doing anything more than stocking the cabinets. She imagined that he saw doctors on the stations he visited if the need arose. Either that or he had enough basic first aid knowledge to take care of himself with an ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ attitude so typical among men.
It had been about an hour since Kendrick had brought Doctor Kinsale to the Med-Bay when the a violent shock rocked the ship. She fell to the floor, banging her head. She tried to get up, but another shock impacted the ship, dislodging her glasses. Thankfully, she kept them on a lanyard, so finding them and putting them back on was not a problem. With her glasses back in place, Fiona finally managed to get up, though she had to brace herself, as the ship was now in evasive maneuvers of some kind.
She hurriedly made her way to the lift and up to the bridge. The loss of gravity as the lift brought her to the Selene’s central corridor was just as disorienting as the increase had been when she had descended to the Med-Bay in Pod-Alpha. Clumsily, she made her way through zero-G to the bridge.
The doctor found him at the helm and entered, doing her best to float into her seat and buckle up. Fiona now wished that she had stayed in the Med-Bay, as her stomach was queasy once again and she was having a hard time getting into the chair. Finally, he grabbed her by the waistband of her skirt and pulled her into the seat, eliciting a surprised gasp from her.
The Silver Liner: Takes Flight! Page 3
