Running With Argentine

by William Lee Gordon

  When they entered the airlock the outer door stayed open but an interior light came on.

  They stood there for several moments and… Nothing happened.

  The airlock wasn’t small, but the star field visible through the still open door was distracting. That's probably why it took them a few moments to notice a display screen that was scrolling a message. A message that he couldn't read…

  After allowing Paula to study it for a few moments he couldn't help but ask, "What does it say?"

  "It's telling me to initiate my identification protocol," she murmured.

  "Well?"

  "Well… I don't really know what that is…"

  After a few more moments of contemplation she tapped the screen with one of her gloved fingers and a keyboard appeared. She typed in a message whose only words Argentine could read were, Paula Silva.

  Immediately, a small access panel next to the door slid open. Inside was what appeared to be a camera lens.

  With an exclamation of, "Of course!" She positioned her helmeted head in front of the lens.

  A moment later, the message on the screen had changed. There was now a blinking icon…

  "Captain, once I touch that icon this airlock will fill with air and the inner hatch will open. At that point, this tells me that I’ll have five minutes to complete the identification protocol."

  "How do you do that?"

  "I have no idea," she responded.

  "What will happen if you don't complete it?"

  "Nothing good…"

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  Tested

  Deep Space

  Back on the Pelican, Mandi had been furious when Argentine had overruled her.

  Of course she should be the person to accompany Paula to her ship. She's the one that Paula had confided in, had trusted to bring her home again.

  And she’d pulled it off!

  Against all odds she'd found a way to find a ship and get them to it. Or, at least, get Paula to it.

  There was no question in Mandi's mind that she should have been the one to escort Paula. If someone else wanted to tag along, well, that was fine… As long as they didn't get in her way.

  As much righteous indignation as she felt, it was hard to stay really mad. The magnitude and import of what they were doing tended to overwhelm all other concerns. Her father had cautioned her a number of times that her fiery spirit could either be a blessing or a curse...

  Captain Argentine's decision hadn't really made any sense other than it was logical that only two of them risk themselves. She'd almost pushed the issue until she'd understood he wasn't going to change his mind...

  In the nick of time she'd realized this wasn't an issue to take a stand on and blow what influence she had…

  "What are they doing now?" she asked.

  She and the chief were sitting on the Captain's bench in the spots recently vacated by Argentine and Paula. For the hundredth time she wondered how any sane human being could design a ship with such small screens…

  "They’re in the airlock and it looks like they're either reading something or waiting for something to happen," the chief replied.

  Mandi was having trouble sitting still. Everyone on the bridge had cheered when the outer airlock had opened. But now it had been some time since anything else had happened…

  The chief had just started to say, "Open me a comm linked Argentine's suit…" when the bridges speakers crackled to life.

  "Okay everyone," came the Captain's voice. "I think we’ve got this figured out. We're going to cycle through…"

  The crew watched the outer airlock door close… and their comm link was severed.

  ΔΔΔ

  Once they’d lost their visual on Argentine and Paula, the bridge became filled with quiet chatter.

  Mandi had elbowed her way back to the communications station and, without any luck, was continuing to try and reestablish a link.

  The chief looked around him. These people had long ago given up any semblance of a military crew; trying to take any emergency action with this many people jammed onto the bridge would be insane. But he honestly didn't know if anyone would even listen to him if he ordered the bridge cleared…

  He was, technically, the second in command but… so what?

  He was just about to promise everyone that he’d keep them informed if they just allowed him a little more elbowroom, when the pilot rang out, "Captain... uhr... Chief! We have a contact!"

  "Quiet!" the chief yelled at the top of his lungs.

  "All nonessential personnel off the bridge, now!

  "Pilot Barry," the chief said somewhat formally. "Is it approaching? Give me the details."

  It was hard to tell if anyone had actually left the bridge but many of them had set down in place so that the chief could at least see the bridge officers he was giving orders to…

  "She's definitely on an intercept course, and she's got plenty of aggro!"

  "Use Standard, dammit!" the chief demanded.

  Barry looked momentarily confused and then said, "She's coming in hot… Fast!"

  "Okay, keep cool Barry… What's her vector? Is it the same ship we saw earlier?"

  "It could be… She's coming from the same direction. Yes, I think she is… Her energy signature seems to match."

  "How far out is she and how long until she reaches us?"

  "She’s still forty-seven light seconds out but, wow! She's already decelerating! There's no telling what her initial velocity was… If nothing changes, though, she'll be at zero velocity relative to both our ships in 17.3 minutes."

  Damn, the chief thought to himself. This is exactly why Argentine should have stayed aboard… He glanced around the bridge. Mandi was at the comms station, Barry and Sami were at the helm and astrogation, respectively… and the lieutenant was at the weapons station.

  "Lieutenant Stark?"

  "I've got the rail guns online," he said. "What are my rules of engagement?"

  Hell if I know, the chief again thought to himself… "Wait for my orders, Lieutenant. We're making this up as we go."

  Turning to Mandi he said, "Hail that ship and see if we can get an identification."

  The chief had always considered himself as calm, cool, and collected. He'd run the gauntlet of politics in the People's Republic without flinching. He'd done his duty and calmly executed his orders in more ship battles than he cared to remember… But he'd never given any real thought to what it might be like to set in this chair. Especially in these circumstances…

  Good grief! My palms are sweating! He thought as he rubbed them on the legs of his trousers.

  "Chief! I have a response from our hail," Mandi called out. "Be aware… There's a two-way delay of a little over one minute."

  "Put it on the speaker…"

  "Unidentified Ship, you are encroaching on the salvage rights of the Tarcarrian people. You are hereby ordered to leave this salvage site immediately."

  "Who?" someone spoke out.

  "Chief? Tarcarria is a multi-colony star system in the Asperian sphere…"

  She broke off her explanation with the chief calmly waiving her down…

  "Record this and send…

  "Unidentified Tarcarrian Ship decelerating to our position, you have no marker buoys or personnel here; you have no presence here at all. This is our claim. Our registration of claim rights has already been sent and will become legal record once it's received," he lied. "Veer off and avoid this site, under penalties of law."

  Just before they received the reply, Barry felt the need to announce, "There is no change in their course."

  "Unidentified Ship, that derelict ship is the property of the Tarcarrian people. We will defend our property. Leave the area or be fired upon."

  "Chief, they've cut the connection," Mandi announced.

  "Oh no…" Sami said. "There energizing their weapons!"

  "Are they in range? Can they hit us from there?"

  "Probably. If not now, certainly in a few m
oments…" Barry responded.

  The chief looked over at Lieutenant Stark, "Are they in range of our guns yet?"

  The Lieutenant shook his head, "Not even close."

  The chief looked around the bridge… What do I do?

  ΔΔΔ

  "Chief! I've got a huge energy spike from the ship!" Sami yelled out.

  "Is she firing on us?"

  "What? No, I mean… From Paula's ship, the Roosevelt."

  What the hell? "Talk to me, Sami. What does that mean?"

  "There's no way to know," Barry answered for her.

  "It could be that defensive shield technology we were speculating about," added the lieutenant. "Paula said the ship was in defensive mode…"

  "Can you detect any kind of shield? Will it cover us too?" asked the chief.

  "This far out? Not bloody likely," Barry responded. "Anyway, I can't detect squat in the way of any shielding."

  "The Roosevelt is preparing to defend itself?" someone suggested.

  "Well, she's got two ships around her; one is bearing down on her at high speed and the other is trying to board her..." reasoned the lieutenant.

  "Yeah, I'd say there's a good chance that she feels threatened… And I can't imagine that she's unarmed."

  "Chief! The Tarcarrian ship is showing an energy spike…"

  All of the bridge’s view screens went white and the chief had only an instant to think to himself, Oh shit…

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Coming Home

  Aboard the Roosevelt

  Once the outer airlock door had closed, the airlock started filling with atmosphere. You couldn't hear it; there was no hissing sound or other obvious signs… But anyone that's ever worn a pressure suit will tell you that it becomes much more supple and easier to move around in once the inside and outside pressures have equalized.

  The inner airlock door silently opened, exposing a dimly lit corridor in front of them. There was a strobe of red light on the ceiling just outside of the airlock and as he stepped through Argentine realized that they were at the apex of a T intersection.

  As Paula joined him they both stood there, straining to see down empty corridors. It was somewhat surreal… This portion of the ship, at least, was obviously under emergency lighting. The strobing warning light painted what glimpses they did have in a macabre blood red patina.

  Paula looked frozen in place. Argentine could only imagine what memories must be swarming up from her subconscious.

  "Paula…" he said, reaching up and touching her lightly on the shoulder.

  "I… I think we need to do something about these alarms…" she muttered.

  "Okay, but what?"

  She shuffled slowly to the wall behind them. Argentine realized that a small panel set flush within it had opened. Inside was what appeared to be a small cupped-apparatus.

  Paula reached up to undo the seal on her helmet…

  "Wait a minute!" Argentine said. "The air in here is at least two hundred years old. We don't know that it's safe to breathe."

  While still fiddling with the helmet Paula responded, "Trust me, this is the only way. Just promise me that if something bad does happen, you'll put me in a sick bay bunk as soon as possible."

  "Sure, of course… Where is the sick bay?"

  "I don't remember exactly, but I know it's somewhere down the corridor behind me. And Captain… You really should help me with the latches on this helmet."

  After only a slight hesitation Argentine reached over and helped to remove it. They both smiled when she appeared to be breathing normally.

  Argentine watched in amazement as she spit into the receptacle behind the open panel.

  "DNA identity verification," she explained.

  "I thought you didn't remember the procedure?" Argentine asked.

  "I didn't… At least not until I saw the open panel. I was too young to remember doing this when my family first came aboard the ship, although we all had to provide DNA samples. I do remember having to do it, though, when I made junior officer.

  "When I saw the open panel, it became obvious…"

  Just then, the red strobe stopped flashing.

  It took a moment for Argentine's eyes to adjust, but even once the false images of the strobe cleared his vision there was surprisingly little to see…

  He removed his own helmet as he heard Paula say, "If you wouldn't mind helping me, Captain. I think my cabin is this way."

  ΔΔΔ

  After several twists and turns they arrived in front of a doorway that, to Argentine, looked like all the others.

  Paula placed her hand on the wall next to the door and it quietly opened.

  she shuffled through and Argentine paused long enough to inspect the wall… There was nothing to indicate where Paula should've placed her palm. It looked just like any other section of wall, as far as he could tell.

  The cabin was far from what he had expected.

  It was a suite of rooms; a small apartment, actually.

  This was easy to determine because once Paula had stepped inside the first room illuminated. The lighting was indirect; He wasn't even really sure where it was coming from, but that's not what held his attention.

  Unlike the relatively sterile corridors, the apartment was highly personalized. There were paintings on the walls and artwork in alcoves. The living area they had entered was furnished and comfortable. To the side was what appeared to be a small dining nook; a table and chairs sat opposite of what might be kitchen appliances.

  Paula was making a beeline for one of the open doorways surrounding the living area. At least it was a beeline if you can imagine the slowest bee in the world…

  Argentine quickly took a few steps forward and gently supported her arm. She didn't resist the help but he wasn't really sure she even noticed him.

  Once they reached the new room, he understood…

  This was obviously the bedroom of a teenage girl.

  There were posters on the walls, a desk, complete with a mirror that was highly decorated with holo snaps and hand written notes. Argentine couldn't read any of them but he didn't have to to know that they were probably full of teenage gossip and pledges of Friends Forever from the new best friend of the week.

  Argentine stood back as Paula slowly took it all in.

  She eventually set down on the foot of her bed. He pretended not to notice the tears on her cheeks.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  To The Victor…

  Deep Space

  The chief instinctively closed his eyes and looked away from the screen as it filled with a blinding brightness.

  He knew that if it hadn’t been programmed to automatically filter intense light he might've been blinded; as an engineer he was intimately familiar with the energy releases caused by matter annihilation…

  "Report!" he called out to his bridge officers, most of whom were rapidly blinking their eyes.

  "She's gone!" Barry said incredulously.

  "Who's gone, dammit?"

  "The intruder… the Tarcarrian ship!" he clarified.

  "What happened?" the chief asked as he turned to Lieutenant Stark.

  The lieutenant just shrugged and Sami said, "She didn't skip; I can't detect any Dreamspace seepage."

  "But I'm not finding any debris, either," Barry added. "It's barmy, I know… But she is simply gone."

  The chief gritted his teeth for a moment and then asked, "What's the status of the Roosevelt?"

  "She's fine… Power readings have returned to normal."

  "Damn…" the chief mumbled. And then louder, "It's a good thing she recognized us as friendly. Apparently our ship can protect herself."

  "So that explains it…" Mandi said aloud.

  "It explains why no one's ever found the ship. For the first hundred years or so everyone and their brother, including governments, went searching for it. The governments never reported any of their ships going missing, but now that I think about it I guess they wouldn't… There were reports of a f
ew independent ships not coming back, but no one thought much of it…"