Running With Argentine

by William Lee Gordon

  “Really?”

  Sami returned his gaze without comment… leaving Argentine still not quite sure if she was serious or not.

  “I think I can vouch for some of that,” said the lieutenant. The commissars know a lot more about what’s going on in the spiral arm than they tell anybody. What she’s saying is true, but it’s very gradual and it’s not uniform.”

  This was something Argentine had never thought about. The People’s Republic of Chezden occupied a very small spot about two thirds of the way down the arm of a barred spiral galaxy. Traveling down spiral meant moving further away from the galactic center whereas traveling up spiral meant moving further in.

  “Well that settles it then,” said the chief. “We go down spiral. We’ve got enough trouble and I don’t want to have to go up against superior technology.”

  “Not smart,” Sami said while shaking her head.

  Everyone looked at her and she continued…

  “If the Republic really is collapsing then everyone will be migrating that direction. We won’t be running away from anybody, we’ll be running with them. Besides, all the Republic’s enemies are from down spiral. We are not going to find a lot of friends in that direction.”

  “That settles it then,” said Argentine. “Sami, plot us a course up spiral.”

  “That gives me a direction; it doesn’t give me a destination.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. For now, let’s just get out of here.”

  “What do we tell the crew?” asked the chief.

  “Tell them the truth, or at least part of it. Let them know that once we get clear of Republic space we’ll find a nice populated planet. They’ll be free to make their own decision - anyone that wants to leave can do so then.”

  “Some of them have families. They’re going to head back to Republic space.”

  “That’s fine. Tell them we’ll drop everybody off at the first opportunity and from there they can go anywhere they want. For now, though, we need to work together to get there.”

  “Not everyone’s going to see it that way,” the lieutenant said.

  “Well, we’ve got more cabins we can tie people up in,” responded Argentine.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Discovery

  Earth 2027 A.D.

  Cris set the next box on his workbench.

  He considered himself fortunate to have the job with the University, but he was really beginning to hate this field trip.

  At first, Cairo had been interesting enough. There was so much history here and being able to work with the team that was finally getting to catalog the newest discoveries from the Valley of the Kings was rad enough, but he was more than ready to get back to the States and rejoin his family.

  Cairo was hot and dirty, and after years of war and military control there was nothing here to hold the interest of a twenty-four-year-old man…

  He put on his thin latex gloves and started carefully emptying the contents of the box onto his workbench.

  The scholars and trained archaeologists had done all the preliminary examinations of the objects. Later, those same experts would carefully clean, categorize, and study them.

  He didn't have that kind of background. He was simply the hired help. Not that he minded… The job paid well and he'd been happy to take it when his uncle had offered to get him an interview.

  Spending weeks away from his wife and little girl, however, was starting to wear on him…

  Eleven years ago a Japanese archaeologist, using specially modified ground radar, had announced that he had evidence of hidden chambers behind the north and west walls of King Tutankhamen's burial chamber.

  The issue had quickly become confused when a team, ostensibly funded by National Geographic Media, had run their own scans and announced to the world that there was nothing there.

  What everyone now knew, of course, was that the new scans had in fact confirmed the existence of additional chambers. The negative announcements were made to deter interference by the prominent theocratic regime of the region, as well as Egypt's military government.

  It hadn't worked.

  So what should have been the greatest archaeological discovery in modern Egyptian history, the discovery of Queen Nefertiti's tomb, became mired in politics.

  Over the next several years many of the original objects had been sold off or destroyed; it was a miracle that this much had survived. It was only now, a little over a decade later, that scholars were finally getting a chance to closely examine the remaining artifacts.

  Cris dutifully recorded and then carefully packed each object from the box.

  Most of them were fragments or relatively common clay works of art. Anything made of gold was long gone.

  The next piece he picked up was a small clay figurine.

  That was odd, he thought to himself. This piece seemed heavier than it should. Maybe it was made out of a different type of clay?

  He knew that the items had already been inspected by people with much more knowledge than what he possessed, but that did nothing to diminish his own curiosity.

  As he turned it over in his gloved hands the object started slipping from his fingers. In an attempt not to crush or damage it he tried to quickly re-grasp… to no avail.

  The figurine crashed to the floor and shattered into many… pieces…

  What the hell?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Reshuffling The Crew

  In Orbit at Praxis III

  Sami was thrilled.

  She’d just guided the ship through seven of the longest skips she’d ever attempted. Argentine had recognized their need to put as much space between them and the People’s Republic as possible, so he’d nervously authorized her to ‘let loose.’

  So she had. She’d swum the ship through the curving waves of Dreamspace to the farthest destination she’d ever heard of.

  Both he and the chief were still a little speechless when they’d dropped out of the last skip at the edge of a stellar system that Sami believed held an inhabited planet.

  They were in a hurry but Argentine was wary; they took their time spiraling down to the target planet’s orbit.

  “Sami, tell the rest of the bridge crew what you know about this place.”

  “It’s called Praxis III, and it’s basically a mining colony,” she responded. “I think it’s independent; I don’t think it’s aligned with any outside government. It’s pretty remote but it does get traffic. Anyone we leave there should be able to find passage and eventually work their way back to the Republic.”

  “Lieutenant, how is your security team doing?”

  “Perfectly content,” he answered. “They still think they’re on a special super-secret mission for the commissars. The only thing they’re thinking about is how well they are going to be rewarded.”

  “Argentine…” said the chief. “We’ve pretty much finished talking to all the crew. Most of them apparently want to take their chances on their own.”

  He wasn’t surprised. He had hoped that a fair number of them would’ve been inspired by their boldness and encouraged by his leadership. All officers hoped that their people were following them as much because they wanted to as because they had to.

  “Okay Chief, how many of them want to stay?”

  “Well, there are a couple of them that haven’t totally made up their mind yet…”

  Argentine frowned.

  “How many have said that they definitely want to stay?” he asked.

  “Well it’s not like we made them put it in writing or anything,” the chief continued.

  Argentine’s eyes narrowed and the chief got the hint.

  “Okay,” the chief said. “None of them. Except for Rory, Lieutenant Stark, and Sami everyone wants to leave.”

  The only thing that felt worse than the growing knot in the pit of Argentine’s stomach was the realization that he’d been foolish to have this conversation on the bridge where everyone could hear.

  The pilot
said, “First, look… I’m sorry. I’ve got a family… I need to get back.”

  The communications officer was looking at her console and didn’t dare turn around.

  Argentine held up both hands, palms out.

  “Hey, it’s okay! I’d do the same thing in your shoes. I wish you and everyone else the best of luck. No hard feelings. Really.”

  Argentine wasn’t sure if he’d done a really good job of hiding his disappointment.

  He remained on the bridge for about ten more minutes so nobody would think he was panicked, and then motioned to the chief to join him in the day room.

  “Are you kidding me?” was the first thing he said.

  “Well, what did you expect?” the chief responded.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a 50-50 split? I certainly didn’t expect to be abandoned by everyone. Can we even run the ship with just five people?”

  “Sure, for a short while. Actually, a very short while - but we can probably make it to another star system.”

  “Oh that’s just great,” Argentine lamented. “Maybe we’d be better off just selling the ship and running as far as our credits will take us.”

  “Look Frank, I know it seems pretty bad but we’ll figure something out. We always do.”

  Argentine knew that the chief was being sincere. The pleading in his voice was enough, but the fact that he’d used Argentine’s first name confirmed it.

  “Okay, but we need to talk with the other three and make sure they’re okay with it. This might cause everyone to back out.”

  “Oh, they’re okay. No one likes it but it’s kind of what we expected.”

  “You mean the rest of you have already discussed it?”

  “Yeah, I mean… We were really more worried about how you… ah, might… take the news.”

  “Me!” Argentine said in a raised voice. “Do you really think I’m that excitable?”

  “No! No, not really. Not much…”

  Argentine sighed. What had he gotten himself into?

  Just then the intercom sounded.

  “First, we need you back on the bridge,” Sami’s voice came through. “There’s something you need to see.”

  ΔΔΔ

  “It’s an inbound ship. It just came careening into the star system at a suicidal speed,” Sami was explaining while shaking her head. “It hit the gravitational wall.”

  Everyone that had served on the bridge of an interstellar vessel knew what that meant.

  If you think back to that large flat surface with the dimples representing stellar gravity wells, imagine the marble not catching the edge but intersecting it straight on at full speed.

  If it was going fast enough your marble would jump part of the depression and slam up against the opposite sloping sidewall. This was known as hitting the gravitational wall.

  The analogy is hugely oversimplified but the fact remains that if a ship enters a stellar system at too high of a velocity and at the wrong angle it will smash itself up against the rebounding gravity wave. The force is usually strong enough to simply tear the ship apart. The only question typically remaining is whether the pieces will be measured in meters or centimeters.

  “Was it chasing us?”

  “I don’t think so… it came into the system from the wrong vector for that.”

  “Any chance of survivors?” Argentine asked. “Do we even need to bother to look?”

  “Actually,” Sami said only slightly loud enough to be heard… “The ship is heavily damaged – I can tell it’s venting atmosphere. But it more or less seems to have stayed together. Whoever is on it is either incredibly lucky or one hell of a pilot,” she mused.

  “Where is it heading now?”

  “Well that’s just it,” she responded. “It still has maneuvering power; it keeps adjusting its course. I think it’s trying to aim for the outermost gas giant but its velocity is still way too high.”

  Argentine thought for a moment and then asked, “How big is the ship?”

  “Oh, sorry. I should’ve said. It’s a small ship. Probably less than a six man crew.”

  “Can we assist?”

  “There’s no way we can catch her, First. At least not before she gets to the gas giant,” Sami responded.

  Argentine definitely thought it was strange but there wasn’t anything they could do about it and besides, it didn’t concern them. He briefly wondered if everything they were going to encounter here on out would be like this.

  “Keep an eye on it,” he ordered. “Continue on course for Praxis III.”

  ΔΔΔ

  Whereas an astrogator was pretty much responsible for all movement of a ship in Dreamspace, a pilot carried the same responsibilities when the ship was in Realspace.

  They both needed to see the gravity wells but an astrogator was far more focused on what had become known as Dreamspace physics. A pilot, on the other hand, specialized in orbital mechanics.

  An astrogator thought through his or her equations and virtually looked into the future to plot a long distance course.

  Piloting a ship, on the other hand, was more reactionary. It required quick reflexes, guts, and great instincts.

  Sami had known immediately what was happening when she watched the other ship hit the gravity wall.

  The astrogator on that ship must have been dead.

  Or they were stupidly trying to travel without one.

  The piloting, on the other hand, had been superb. The last-minute adjustments on the ship’s trajectory, angle of impact, thrust and bounce vectors had been perfect – and all implemented in a microsecond.

  Astrogators and pilots typically worked closely together; such was the nature of their professions.

  Even so, she wasn't sure she’d ever met a pilot good enough to do what she’d just witnessed.

  Just what was going on with that ship?

  ΔΔΔ

  The mining colony surprised Argentine.

  He had expected an encampment with a few hundred people; instead they had found a city of a few hundred thousand. The miners were very original in their thinking; they had named the city Anvil.

  Apparently there were small camps or mining towns spread out across the rest of the planet but this was the only real city.

  Praxis III orbited deep in the star’s gravity well; it was third of seven planets in the system. While its gravity was close to standard, the planet carried less than a 2° axial tilt. This meant there were virtually no seasons and the equatorial climate band was very narrow.

  As a matter of fact, it was a warm planet anyway so Anvil City was located high in the northern hemisphere. Even so, Argentine broke out into a sweat immediately after stepping off of the shuttle.

  They needed to accomplish several things here. They’d promised the crew they would drop them off and it was Argentine’s intention to make it an amiable departure. Fortunately, the chief’s foresight, or scheming if you wanted to look at it that way, had provided them with enough valuable metals to give each crewmember a small stake. Since this was a mining planet their value should be recognized and easily convertible.

  They also needed to get rid of the security team.

  Lieutenant Stark, once again, had suggested they leave it to him.

  In addition, they needed to gather some information on where they could go. They couldn’t keep popping from star to star based only on rumors of what might await them. But then they might not be traveling to many more stars if they couldn’t hire some crew. Argentine figured it was probably best to handle it one problem at a time.

  The most obvious source of obtaining stellar coordinates would be another astrogator. The most likely approach to another astrogator would be with their own astrogator, Sami.

  “How do we do that?” Argentine asked.

  “On larger planets I’d simply go to the Astrogator Guild’s offices,” Sami answered. “But I doubt they’ve even got one on this rock.”

  “Are you saying there won’t be any astrogators here at all?�
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  “No, but they won’t be calling attention to themselves. We’re going to have to ask around to find them.”

  Argentine decided that while the chief handled the crew’s departure and while the lieutenant handled his security team, he and Sami would start nosing around the spaceport and the various industries, bars, and brothels that supported it.