Running With Argentine

by William Lee Gordon

  ΔΔΔ

  Eventually, Sami got around to answering the original question…

  "I've programmed a twenty-one day skip," she announced.

  Most people on the bridge exchanged a furtive glance or two; Argentine didn't know about them, but he'd never been in Dreamspace that long.

  "And how many more skips do you think we’ll have to make after that?" the chief wanted to know.

  Sami, looking surprised, said, "None. We’ll start our search when we exit Dreamspace, but if I've calculated wrong, if I'm not relatively close to her original jump parameters… Well, we’ll never find her."

  "This is our only chance," clarified Mandi. "If that ship made a second skip we’ll have no idea what vector to follow."

  And you're just sharing this with us now?" the chief asked.

  "It doesn't change the risk/reward assessment," she responded. "Paula and Sami both agree that it would be highly unlikely that the ship made a second skip."

  "Wait a minute," said the chief. "This isn’t adding up. You told me we needed to be carrying at least six months’ worth of provisions… Now you're saying it will only take one skip to find her?"

  Sami was never quite totally 'with the rest of us' while the ship was in dream space, but she was following along well enough to interject before Mandi could fire back a response…

  "Chief?" she said. "How far could a ship drift in two hundred years?"

  "What? I don't know… It would depend on its velocity."

  "It would depend on its velocity, its mass, and the shape of space-time itself that the ship passed through. It could take a very long time to search through all the possibilities," she concluded.

  One way or another, it seemed that they were in for a long ride.

  That's why Argentine was stunned when three days after leaving Dreamspace they found… something.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Only In It For The Money

  Deep Space

  They had once again gathered on the bridge; this time it was to leave Dreamspace.

  It was totally illogical to assume that they would exit close enough to the ship to find it immediately, but nobody wanted to take a chance of not being there if it happened.

  Over the last twenty-one days the sheer magnitude of the volume of space they needed to search had started sinking in for everyone.

  Another concern that Argentine carried regarded how they would recognize the ship... Unless it was emitting some type of energy it was going to look just like a chunk of rock. You’d have to be right on top of it to be able to tell the difference.

  Even if it was letting off some type of emissions, how would they separate it from the billions of celestial objects that were reflecting light and other forms of energy?

  It was always possible that the ship was emitting some type of beacon, but after two hundred years he wasn't getting his hopes up.

  Paula had lightened his anxiety considerably when she'd instructed them to start sending out their own signal - as unconventional as it might be…

  They were to use all of the ships external lights, and they were to use them in a coded sequence of what she called 'dots and dashes.' The idea being that if the ship was still at all operational it would recognize the code and respond in kind.

  Of course, they were limited by the speed of light.

  At each search location they would flash their repeating message for three hours, and then wait another three for a possible response. This method allowed them to transverse a three-dimensional search grid one three-light-hour sphere at a time.

  It wasn't perfect; their light signal could easily be occluded by interstellar dust or other celestial debris, but Paula seemed confident in the methodology.

  It seemed like a huge game of chance to Argentine, and life had taught him that you should never go all-in on low odds, but… Here they were…

  Another factor that was keeping Argentine ill at ease was that they were blindly advertising their location to anyone that might want to find them.

  Maybe it was his military background, but traveling inside a blinking marquee wasn’t exactly his idea of keeping a low profile.

  ΔΔΔ

  Once the search parameters had been agreed upon and the actual search commenced, the ship fell back into a routine.

  On the second day out of skip Argentine took the opportunity to visit Paula in her cabin...

  "Welcome, Captain. I was wondering when you'd be coming by."

  "I know that you and Sami were keeping busy together… I can only imagine how much work it was to set up this search…"

  "… And you didn't want to overburden me. That's very considerate of you. But I'm glad you came; I've wanted to have a talk."

  Paula had been on board now for almost 2 weeks so he'd had more than sufficient time to become acquainted with her. But this was his first opportunity to interact with her one-on-one, and that was the only real way to get to know someone.

  So he took the moment to focus his attention on her…

  She was definitely old, but she didn't give the impression of being frail. Mandi had said she was dying, and it wasn't hard to imagine the truth of it… But she carried herself with a strength and intensity that gave clue to what was still a very keen mind.

  As a matter of fact, Argentine realized with a start that she was studying him with the same intensity that he'd been devoting to her…

  "Ah, I got caught up in the moment," he apologized. "It's not every day you meet somebody that's over two hundred years old!"

  "And you want to know if and how that can be true?" she responded with a smile.

  Argentine heard himself chuckle…

  "Yes, I suppose I do. It seems an incredible thing, and you carry yourself so well…"

  "Aren't you the charmer, Captain? But to answer your questions… Yes, I am a little over two hundred years old by the calendar of the world I was born on."

  "And you've been on Paladin III for quite some time, correct?"

  "My entire life, really."

  "Well, forgive me for prying," Argentine said delicately. But I want to make sure I'm not misunderstanding… If we use the calendar of Paladin III, how old would you be?"

  She studied him intently for a moment and then smiled…

  "I think it would be roughly the same. I shouldn't have confused you earlier, I should have just used the Paladin III standard year. It's just that with everything happening lately, I've been giving so much thought to my childhood life…"

  "That's quite all right; It's totally understandable. I just wanted to make sure that we weren't talking apples and oranges…"

  She suddenly changed the subject by saying, "You seem a good man to me… why don't we both agree that we don't have to be delicate with each other, that we can feel free to satisfy our curiosity by asking straightforward questions?"

  Now it was Argentine's turn to grin…

  "Fine by me."

  "Good!” she said with gusto. “I am close to the end of a fairly normal lifespan for my people. Anytime we reach two-hundred and twenty years we feel blessed, but I remember hearing about others that lived to two-fifty and beyond…

  "Now it's my turn for a question… Why did you take Sami under your wing?"

  It only took a moment for Argentine to mentally adjust to the new shape of the conversation. This woman was as sharp as a tack… She'd very adroitly maneuvered the conversation, politely, into a time saving mutual interrogation.

  Argentine immediately decided that he liked her…

  "Let me tell you the story of how I met her," he started. "I had just been assigned as the first officer of the P.R.S. Pelican. I hadn't been aboard for an hour when I came upon this thin blonde wraith of a girl in one of the corridors.

  "She was scribbling all over one of the walls…

  "She was so tired it was hard to understand her explanation, but it turns out she’d had an epiphany on some equations she'd been working on and hadn't trusted herself to reme
mber them."

  Paula laughed and nodded her head.

  "Now, I've been around a lot of astrogators and, no offense, but I'm used to some… different types of behavior. What I couldn't understand, though, was why she was so tired.

  "I'll probably never know why I did it, but after I'd sent her on her way I copied down the equations and sent them off to an acquaintance of mine for evaluation.

  "In the meantime, I discovered why she'd been worn out… Our senior officers were making her life miserable, to say the least.

  "So, maybe I've always had a soft spot for the underdog, and it probably didn't hurt that I got word back that the equations were impressive… At any rate, Sami is a good person and much more worthy than a lot of people have given her credit for."

  Paula was nodding her head in agreement as he finished.

  "Okay, my turn," he continued. "Will we be able to operate the ship once we find it?"

  "That is a big question," she responded. "Please remember, I was only sixteen years old when I last lived on the Roosevelt. There are many aspects of her that I wouldn't know how to operate, let alone instruct you on. How much of your skills are transferable? I think we’re just going to have to find out."

  She leaned forward slightly in her seat as she said, "Captain, assuming you can operate the ship… What do you intend to do with her?"

  Argentine started to tell her about the crew’s plans, but then stopped himself. It wasn't because he was paranoid about her knowing, it had more to do with the way she'd asked the question. There was a hidden intensity there…

  "I suppose that really depends on if, and how much of it, we can operate," he finally said. Most of us are just looking for a nest egg so we can settle down someplace and create a comfortable life for ourselves. I don't think any of us have much stomach for piracy; I've had enough conflict in my life… I’m guessing we could negotiate some kind of finder’s fee or reward from a local government…"

  "You surprise me, Captain," she said. "A powerful ship like that, and you’d give her up so easily? A man with a ship like the Roosevelt could accomplish a lot of good things in his life."

  "You see, that's just it. I don't know what kind of ship the Roosevelt is. However powerful she might be, I know she's way above my pay grade. I never really had any desire to be a captain, let alone be the captain of the most powerful warship in the sector."

  After a moment of reflection, Paula said softly…

  "Captain, I think there might be a small misunderstanding. When I talk about the Roosevelt being a powerful ship, I'm not talking about her weaponry. I'm sure they’re formidable, but I never once saw her in battle...

  "What I'm talking about is the knowledge the ship represents. That knowledge is far more powerful than any weapons you could ever dream of. In the wrong hands, that knowledge can and will destroy all semblance of progress and civilization in this sector and beyond. On the other hand, in the right hands, that knowledge could guide civilization forward to a future you can’t even imagine.

  "That's the kind of power I'm talking about…"

  Her voice drifted into silence until she again broke her reverie…

  "I'm sorry, Captain. But I tire out so easily these days. Perhaps we can continue our conversation later?"

  "Of course," Argentine said as he stood. "Please rest now, and if you're feeling up to it we’ll continue tomorrow."

  As Argentine left her cabin he kept repeating the conversation over and over in his mind. One thing he knew for sure… Paula knew a lot more about that ship than she was letting on.

  They seemed to have a good rapport, though. He'd keep pursuing the issue. Eventually, he'd gain her trust sufficiently to learn what he needed to know. At least that was the plan…

  At that point, he'd had no idea that those conversations would never happen. At least not on the Pelican, and not in any way he could have envisioned…

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Living in Horror

  Deep Space

  When Dr. Amaya had first boarded the Pelican, she had busied herself with saving the life of the injured crewmen. And it had, fortunately, taken her total focus…

  The medical technology on this ship was abysmal. She actually had a few old, outdated pieces of equipment at her clinic that were superior to some of what the Pelican could offer.

  There was no sense in worrying about that now… Her old life was forever behind her.

  Thinking about it made her once again feel a small pang of guilt for running away… But staying would have accomplished nothing. She would certainly have been arrested and the clinic shut down. Hopefully, her running would take the blame away and it could keep operating…

  At least that's what she kept telling herself.

  In her heart of hearts, though, she knew she probably would've jumped at any chance to escape… Regardless of the cost. She'd never dreamed she'd ever be afforded the opportunity; Up until now all her many dreams of freedom and a new life had been made up of pure fantasy.

  When you live day in and day out with abject horror; when you are constantly reminded of the cruel and heartless things that one human being can do to another… It can make you emotionally numb. It can leave your personal survival as the single focus of your existence.

  And when she thought about what the Lords of Trinity had done to her…

  She knew she was an attractive woman, but it was an illusion. It was a temporary condition that had no more long-term significance than a larva has to a butterfly.

  Her genome had been altered to respond to a chemical trigger; a hormonal change that typically occurred in females when they reached their early twenties – it would certainly happen by their twenty-fifth year.

  The transformation to be triggered was grotesque.

  She was literally destined for a painful and horrific transformation that would turn her into a monster… and then kill her slowly.

  Doctor Amaya was now twenty-eight years of age.

  The original reasons for her specific type of gene experimentation had never been explained to her - just as countless others that she’d treated had never known their originally intended purpose…

  The drug she took daily to suppress her own chemical trigger was extremely addictive, as if that really mattered…

  No, the only thing that really mattered was that her supply of the drug had been left behind.

  ΔΔΔ

  Lieutenant Stark's curiosity had been aroused.

  If you were going to make a living in the Security Services in the People's Republic, you needed to have a suspicious nature. He knew that the resulting cynicism was terrible on personal relationships – romantic or otherwise – but the mindset had become as much a part of him as his left arm.

  During their time in port on Paladin III he'd been kept busy with the ships provisioning; after all, it was his job to make sure that every crewmember that went out for supplies made it back safe and sound - either with the supplies or the credits they’d been given…

  But now that they were back in Dreamspace and skipping to the search coordinates, he was free to satisfy his curiosity.

  Curiosity, he thought to himself. Was that the right word for it?

  If he wanted to be completely honest, attraction might be a better word.

  The doctor wasn't beautiful, at least not by the standards of Chezden's polite society. But she had a look about her he'd always found attractive in women. It was a total confidence sans arrogance...

  It was very rare to meet someone like that.

  What type of personality could totally believe in itself right up to the point where it knew its limits were?

  Or maybe he was just projecting? Assigning traits to her that she didn't really have? But why would he do that? He'd known plenty of attractive women…

  No, there was definitely something about the doctor that went beyond physical appearance. He did admire her self-control, and there was a certain mystery about her…

  There was a s
trength about her too, but there was also pain. One couldn’t be separated from the other; they both, together, made her what she was.

  He'd made sure that Gossip was being taken care of, so he'd been in a position to watch her transform into an angry irritable devil.

  He’d watched with interest as she avoided everyone else on the crew, and it didn't go unnoticed that she had finagled ship’s funds from the chief to dramatically expand the ship's pharmacopeia. The ship’s compound pharmacy had been set to maximum production ever since.