Crucible: Records of the Argos

by Michael J. Farlow

  Getting back to Harry, he isn’t the humanoid genre of the original AI. That version remained behind with my father. This Harry is a duplicate electronic version who helps manage the ship and can appear in a holographic form when he wants. Harry is integrated with the ship’s computer core with, I’m told, the bonus of being able to exchange data and new experiences with the original when the two are near each other.

  “Captain, we are approaching Asteroid 3,” Harry announced. Asteroid 3 was the last known location of the missing cargo ship, Lotana.

  “Good, what do the sensors show us?”

  “Nothing irregular, Captain,” replied the disembodied voice. For his own reasons, Harry had not chosen to use his holographic form for this bit of banter.

  I wasn’t surprised there was nothing on sensors. We were still in the middle of nowhere, after all. And Asteroid 3 was an old Arkon space fort that had been abandoned after the war, and no activity had been observed after that. Still, it paid to be careful.

  Across from me on one of the control consoles in the actual bridge is Amini. She’s the young, dark-haired, brown-eyed daughter of one of the Carian clan leaders, Ootah. The Carians are part of the Zarminian planets and asteroids that were the home of the first humans encountered outside of Earth’s solar system. They are now part of the Consortium of Planets.

  I wouldn’t say Amini was beautiful, nor is she plain. She is smart and has the fresh, wholesome look and appeal that you always wanted in a girl next door. I didn’t have one growing up, but it would have been nice. I was happy to know she would be part of the crew since she had been an integral part of the redesign of this old ship. She is an experienced engineer, a qualified navigator and pilot, and knowledgeable about the ship’s new weapons. When I first saw her about two years ago, she still seemed like a very young girl. Either my view of her was wrong, or she had grown into a capable and attractive young woman. I wouldn’t tell her that though — the attractive part. She is proud to be what she is, an essential and capable part of this small fledgling crew.

  “Do you want to take a closer look, Nick?” Amini asked, ready to maneuver the ship as necessary.

  “Sure, why not? We can collect updated data for our records and take some video as we pass.”

  “Captain,” called out Harry, “I am detecting small traces of debris near us.”

  “What kind of debris? I thought the sensors saw nothing.”

  “At our initial range, that was true, Captain. Now, as we move closer to Asteroid 3, I detect small traces of debris from a ship. Not normal space debris.”

  “Can you identify where it came from?” I was hoping against hope there might be a connection with the missing Lotana.

  “Not specifically, Captain. Only that it contains trace elements and metals common to ship construction in all the yards known to us.”

  Knowing the probable answer, I asked, “Enough to account for a whole ship?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “How old is the debris?”

  “The metals are over twenty years old, Captain. However, there are traces of carbon residue that are just a few months old.”

  To me, that meant it could have come from the Lotana. But there was no positive connection. A data point in our search and investigation of this area of space, but nothing more.

  I decided there wasn’t anything more we could learn here, and we jumped in the direction of Tye. Technically, this wasn’t a jump as in the traditional FTL capability that this ship had years ago. It was a transport to use the Naskapi term. Transporting was a relatively new capability that only Consortium warships and auxiliaries had as a result of deciphering technology from the Naskapi. This allowed for the movement of a ship or multiple ships from one known location to another known location almost instantly. No range limitations have yet been discovered. But you better know the exact spot in space you want to go to. Otherwise, you could be in big trouble. By the way, my father wanted to call this capability something other than just transport. He coined the term leap drive, or just leap, and it stuck — most of the time.

  Coincident with our exit from leap, the fourth member of our small crew (if you count Harry), Doctor Ramard, entered the bridge. Tall for a Zarminian, Doc was an experienced physician loaned to us from the Zarminian medical community primarily because the Space Guard had no doctors of their own, just medics. To prepare him for this assignment, he had undergone some military indoctrination in addition to extensive flight surgeon training with Galactic Force led by Doctor Rose Ramos. Rose is my biological father’s wife. I guess that makes her my stepmother, but neither she nor I think of our relationship that way. I just call her Rose. She doesn’t want to overshadow the fact that my actual mother is alive and well on Earth, and we have a close relationship.

  Anyway, we all liked Doc. Maybe he appealed to us as a father figure. After all, he was at least fifty with graying hair and a thinning face, and neither Amani nor I had reached the thirty mark yet. Harry’s age didn’t count. He was over two hundred years old and decidedly not a father figure.

  Doc stared at the three dark, space-filled viewscreens that wrapped around the forward part of the bridge as he rubbed his fingers through his graying hair.

  “Where’s Tye? I thought we would be there in one leap.”

  “No,” I reminded him. “We can’t just leap right to Tye. Can’t risk anybody learning we have that capability. We’ll just plug along like a normal cargo ship from here. Should be there by tomorrow.”

  Doc lowered his head and shook it slowly. I could tell he just remembered the briefing I gave before we started. But that’s OK, my grandmother on my mother’s side always said we learn by mistakes. I just hoped he wouldn’t make any when it counted.

  Hours later, we were past Asteroid 3 and into our slow approach to Tye. Doc wandered off to his medical compartment. He said it was to complete his supply inventory. Amini decided to stay at her station and was reviewing some of the engineering manuals on one of her screens. I was about to slip out of my chair and get a snack when Harry called out.

  “Contact, Captain!” Nothing like a jolt like that to get the blood pumping.

  “Details, Harry.”

  “Unknown ship approaching from starboard just out of FTL, Captain. Distance one thousand miles and closing quickly. Estimate arrival in four minutes. Ship is decelerating.”

  Based on my experience in space to date, a thousand miles is quite close. “Increase our speed to the maximum of Argos’ pre-renovated speed. Shields up. Ask them to identify themselves.”

  “Done, Captain. No response. My records do not include this class of ship in my files. Sensors show they are powering up weapons.”

  “Transmit a distress call, Harry. Maybe someone will hear us.” That’s what a real cargo ship would do.

  There was nothing more I could do at this point — couldn’t go faster. We had to keep our deception going. Even though I knew we likely had superior shields, weapons, and ultimately speed, it was chilling to sit still like a dummy with a potential enemy ship bearing down on us.

  Finally, a voice came from the threatening ship. “Cargo ship on course for Tye. Cut your engines, lower your shields, and prepare to be boarded.”

  I clicked on my communicator and answered, “Unknown ship, this is the cargo ship Argos with a shipment of lumber for Tye. We are no threat to you. We have a schedule to meet and cannot stop.”

  “They are firing, Cap…”

  Before Harry completed the word captain, however, the Argos rocked from a weapons hit to starboard, followed by another. The shields held, no problem. It was just a little unnerving to feel the shudder of weapons so early in the trip.

  “They are firing high-powered lasers, Nick. No damage,” Amini reported.

  “Very well. Maintain course and speed.”

  High-power lasers were of no danger to Argos as she was
now configured. In a typical cargo ship of Argos’ age, that wouldn’t be the case. If that was all the unknown ship had, this would be easy.

  “Two missiles fired, Captain,” Harry reported.

  I didn’t have to ask time to impact; the distance was too short. The ship rocked again with the double impact. Bits of debris from the overhead rained down on us. My only next step, short of firing on the unknown ship, was to FTL out of the area. But I didn’t want to do that if I didn’t have to. I wanted to get enough information to identify the attacking ship first.

  “Captain,” Harry called out, “the enemy ship is maneuvering behind us. He may be trying to take out our engines.”

  Even though our shields would cover this maneuver, I knew that capability was not common on all ships of the Argos class. If he took a shot and nothing happened, we might lose some of our secrets. And, at this short-range, he might do some damage.

  “Have you collected the data we need on this ship, Harry?”

  “Yes, Captain. More than enough to identify it again.”

  “Good, then it’s time we went FTL.”

  As I said before, I didn’t want to do that and spoil our disguise as a decrepit piece of junk, but I didn’t see a choice.

  “Contact, Captain,” Harry reported. “Another ship just appeared in close range. It has weapons charging and appears to be a warship.”

  Our attacker must have seen the same new contact and didn’t care to stick around to say hello. It turned and, with a slight FTL flash, exited the scene.

  We all relaxed a little. Even though we were never severely at risk, being under attack is always stressful. Besides, the intruder could have made a lucky shot being as close as he was. The ship now closing, however, was bigger and probably more powerful.

  “Cargo ship transmitting the distress call, this is the Jayton Space Guard cutter Three Eight Four returning to Jayton from patrol. Are you damaged?’

  With some relief, I answered. “Three Eight Four, this is the cargo ship Argos en route from Tula to Tye with a load of lumber. We were under attack by an unknown ship before you showed up. Only minor damage. We are still capable of reaching Tye.”

  “Very well, Argos. However, I must board you to check your manifest and papers. It is required when we are hailed for help.”

  We were prepared for this. Our main cargo bay was filled with stacks of lumber, and we had good papers supplied by Consortium intelligence. The lower, secondary cargo bay was empty except for a couple of shuttles. All we had to do was move from our modern bridge near the center of the ship to the old, crummy bridge topside to use for the boarding party. Appearances had to be kept.

  It was a swift inspection, and our intelligence office-supplied papers passed muster. We learned that the Jayton Space Guard did not normally operate in this area; they were just taking the fastest route home from a visit to another planet. We were fortunate they were here because we didn’t have to display or demonstrate any of the capabilities we wanted to keep secret for a while.

  Two days later, we arrived over Tye. We did have lumber for sale. We figured that finding buyers and bargaining would give us good cover for being in the area collecting intelligence on why ships were going missing and who or what was behind it. What we didn’t expect was the red tape we had to overcome before any business could take place in this Tye port called Viron.

  As soon as the Argos had taken an assigned spot in orbit, we were met by the equivalent of Customs. I say equivalent because they didn’t care what we had to sell. All they wanted were the fees, permits, and licenses to do business at the port and to remind us that no weapons were allowed in the port or city area. If that weren’t enough, they demanded payment in the local script or gold. We had gold, but if everything was as expensive as the fees, we could soon be out of business. Once the Customs agents departed, we took our small shuttle to the spaceport where, you guessed it, we paid a landing and departure fee in advance. And by the way, we had to trade in our gold for local script. For a fee. The same would happen when we wanted to convert back to gold when we left. Or we could keep the script and avoid the conversion fees later. We learned, however, that the value of the local script fluctuated over time. This was getting expensive.

  Surprisingly, Amini turned out to be quite the businesswoman. I’m told that her mother, Amah, was the principal contracting officer and salesperson for her Carian clan, and it was reflected in her daughter. Amini led us through several potential and eager buyers for our lumber before she settled on a price, agreement, and a pickup of the lumber from orbit. The merchants seemed to respect her skill and urged her to do business with them again. More than that, we learned that goods getting to the marketplace to be bought were becoming scarce and more about what was going on in the area as well as Tye and its history. Apparently, the attacker we escaped was representative of a much larger problem plaguing Tye. That accounted for the sweet price we were paid in script for our lumber. The day was a productive one from an intelligence point of view — and even an economic one.

  “So, what now?” Amini asked.

  She caught me off guard. I was thinking about all the graft that was taking place and forgot to think of our next step. She grinned at me when she realized I was unprepared.

  “Ah, we should take a tour of the place before heading back to the ship for the night. We can come back tomorrow and maybe buy something if we can afford it.”

  “Sounds like a plan. But I’d be surprised if there is anything here to buy that honest traders like us could make a profit on at resale.”

  “Who said we’re honest traders?”

  Amini laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  I did, but it was more fun being not-so-honest traders if it played to our advantage.

  The two of us did a short tour of the port and a small portion of the city, Viron. It was a seedy place, and we were glad not to have to stay in the city overnight. My imagination kept seeing robbers lurking around every corner, eager to take our script and anything else we had of value. It was probably true. So, we decided to call it a day, get some rest, and do more exploring tomorrow after we transferred our cargo to its new owners. We kept the script. At least we saved one fee. Some might say we should have left Viron that night. Fee or no fee. However, my sense was that if we were to find information about what was going on here, we had to take a risk and return the next day and look around.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, the buyers for our lumber showed up on time at the Argos, made the transfer and left. I was having second thoughts about going back to Viron. I didn’t like the place. It seemed even more dangerous than Hunting Park in Philadelphia. I grew up in the Mt. Airy neighborhood of Philadelphia. Lots of trees, quiet streets, and easy to get to Center City. My mom loved the place. It had great schools and a rich cultural heritage. It wasn’t quite as nice as Fairmont Park, but it was a great place to grow up. One place we never went unless on a dare was Hunting Park. It was dangerous, and I can’t remember the number of times my mom ended a sentence with “… and stay away from Hunting Park.” Viron made Hunting Park seem like the Vatican. But it was our job to collect as much intelligence as we could, especially about the missing Lotana or any other ships that might have disappeared, and we couldn’t do that in the safe confines of the Argos. Besides, we still had gold to retrieve, assuming there was nothing worth buying.

  This time, however, we went better prepared. Thanks to advances in Galactic Force technology, we were gifted some goodies by Phil Loomis, my father’s friend, and a technology whiz. One was a lightweight, skintight undergarment that acted as armor against small weapons but not quite like full-scale battle armor. Like full battle armor, the lightweight versions could be controlled with our implants. By now, implants were old technology for Galactic Force and even some of the Consortium allies. Implants were inserted into a person’s brain just behind the left ear. They allow f
or secure communications with others so equipped, via thoughts, and could be used to interface with other types of technology aboard the ship. When needed, they also performed as two-way translators when we were thrust into strange languages as we were here on Viron. The most essential aspect of the implants was the capability to stay in touch with Harry. Oh, and they’re also an encrypted tracking device — nice things to have.

  Eventually, we got our stuff together and took the shuttle to Viron. Yes, we paid our fees again. From the landing area, we went directly to the marketplace that was the mainstay of the port. By midday, we hadn’t found a single thing we thought we could buy and make even a marginal profit from. We did do a good job of showing ourselves to be very much like real traders — albeit disappointed traders. And we continued to ask questions.

  “Ready to take on the city?” I asked Amini as I looked around, rubbing my hands together.

  “As ready as you are.”

  “Good. First stop, we put half of this script in a lockbox provided by the customs station until we leave. Second stop, a bit of refreshment.”

  “You mean like liquor?” Amini asked with disapproval in her voice.

  “Of course. What better place to gather intelligence than a bar?” I forgot she wasn’t like me, a frequenter of the livelier places that locals had to offer. Growing up on a space mining station in asteroid territory didn’t allow for bar hopping and the associated vices. While there were times when the Carians celebrated with strong drink, it was generally frowned upon. Too many things to go wrong in the dangerous asteroid mining business. Everyone had to be as sharp as possible. That meant that Amini, like the other children of mining families, was more focused on work and business than developing the social skills that children in larger and more varied social structures had available in a planet-sized community. She was growing used to or tolerating my habits, albeit slowly. I sometimes wondered why she tried at all.