Running With Argentine

by William Lee Gordon

  The first, just off of Broadway itself, was an officer's kitchen and mess. This is the one he'd had the crew spend several hours on, transferring all their foodstuffs from the Pelican.

  The second kitchen/mess combination was found one deck immediately below them. It must've been reserved for VIPs and dignitaries because, while the kitchen was the same, the decor in the dining room was lavish.

  The third kitchen was more of a kitchenette or prep station; there was no dining room attached to it. He vaguely seemed to remember that it was used by the Captain's stewards to serve his needs twenty-four hours a day, regardless of whether he was in his suite or on the bridge.

  When he'd finally figured out what it was, Argentine had spent a short moment contemplating what it must've been like to Captain this ship in its heyday...

  "You dreamed it, Argentine," said the chief matter-of-factly. "You said yourself that as soon as you decided you were fully awake she was gone."

  "I know I only saw her for a moment, but it didn't feel like a dream."

  "They never do, at the time… Honestly, how long has it been since you had some female companionship?"

  It was a sign of their friendship that anyone would even dare ask him that…

  "What! No… Chief, it wasn't like that. She was wearing a uniform, and she was young… And I can't help but thinking I know her."

  "Humph... You know, only you could screw up a good dream."

  Probably more to change the subject than anything else, Argentine asked, "Did you hear about what Marko's family found?"

  "You mean the hydroponics section? Yeah, if we were to spend any amount of time on the ship it would sure come in handy. Growing our own fresh produce would be a luxury. Of course, we’d have to accumulate seeds and figure out what we could grow hydroponically…"

  "No, I was talking about what else they found… seed stock, along with an entire agricultural section."

  "Really? Where?"

  "It's in the lower section. Apparently they were doing some exploring on their own and came across it… But we’re talking about real dirt fields. There's nothing growing in it, of course, but they have been maintained and tilled. Apparently the agrobots are still functioning well."

  "You know, when I first saw the size of the ship and realized how many people she could carry I assumed that a massive crew would be needed to run her," mused the chief.

  "I mean, think about the Pelican… Almost all of her complement was dedicated to maintaining her. But the Roosevelt…

  "Argentine, I've never seen robotics like this. It's making me rethink everything about how many people we would need to run her efficiently."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Well, with the Pelican, it took a lot of manpower to maintain our systems. Whether it was the engines, or the Dreamspace motors, or life-support… Everything down to the automated dispensers in the mess needed to be maintained constantly.

  "Best I can tell, though, robotics handle most if not all of that same work here. Oh sure, you'd still want to man three or four watches in critical positions like bridge personnel, security, engineering and the like… But I imagine you could get by with one skeleton watch for most of your areas like life-support, information technology, hull maintenance and such."

  Argentine knew they were just making conversation; the chief wanted to find a small habitable moon somewhere and settle down just as bad as he did. But still, it was an interesting ship…

  "How many crewmen would it take?" Argentine asked despite himself.

  "I have no idea," he responded. "I just know that she could operate on a whole lot less trained crewman than anything we've ever imagined before."

  Changing the subject Argentine asked, "Any more thoughts on the best way to monetize the ship?"

  "A couple, but they mostly consist of sending messages to various governments and asking what they’d be willing to offer. The problem with that, of course, is proving that we actually have the ship. And once we do, some of them might just decide to come and take it.

  "I hate to say it, but I think Mandi might be the best person to take the lead on that."

  Argentine knew that he was right. Mandi knew the ins and outs of the local bureaucracies and would have a better idea than any of them on who to approach and how to do it. It was just that…

  "Chief, do you get the feeling that Mandi really doesn't want to let go of the ship?"

  "I'd have a hard time believing that that mercurial excuse for a redheaded woman would have any hesitation on cashing in on what could be a significant personal profit…

  "Just the same, yeah… I know what you're saying. She's been acting strange lately."

  "Well, none of this will make any difference if we can't master our command-and-control," Argentine concluded. "I think tomorrow may be the most important day of the quest… Tomorrow we'll find out how well everyone can interface with the ship and perform their duties."

  "You actually sound confident," the chief said with feigned surprise.

  "Why wouldn't I be? We've got a makeshift skeleton crew working with a neural interface that was designed for a totally different group of people, trying to use it on systems that have lain dormant and unused for two hundred years and that represent technologies that we're totally unfamiliar with...

  "We've beaten longer odds before. Why wouldn't I be confident?"

  The chief guffawed as he left Argentine alone in his cabin.

  One thing Argentine hadn't been joking about; tomorrow would be the critical day…

  ΔΔΔ

  "Captain! Captain Argentine! This is Lieutenant Stark; we need you."

  Argentine had a vague impression that his comm device had been trying to get his attention for a while now. He'd been in the middle of a well-deserved and deep dreamless sleep…

  "What is it, Lieutenant?" he finally managed to respond.

  "We’re in the Officer's Mess and we need you here."

  Argentine realized that it was only 0400 hrs; no wonder he was so groggy…

  "What's this about?"

  "I really think it'll be easier just to come see for yourself, Sir."

  ΔΔΔ

  When he walked into the Officer's Mess, it was already crowded. A lot of the Petulengro family was present, and they didn't seem happy…

  "This ship is haunted!" Marco said flatly.

  Argentine glanced at the lieutenant, who gave his signature shrug.

  "Explain what you mean."

  "Several of us were sitting at this table here eating breakfast, and when we looked up a ghost was standing right there," he said, pointing to the end of the table.

  "Yeah, and it was really cool!" Nicu added.

  Argentine wasn't sure how to respond. He was used to dealing with relatively rational people, and the Petulengros were a little… Emotional.

  "What did it look like?" he finally asked.

  "It looked like a ghost!" One of the women said while everyone else nodded.

  Argentine looked at Nicu, who was still grinning...

  "Did you see it too?"

  "See him. It was a man."

  "So you did see it… Him?"

  Nicu nodded vigorously.

  "He was short… and big," he said as he puffed his chest and held his arms like he was imitating a musclebound weightlifter…

  "He looked like a dead crewman. I know that because he was wearing a uniform," he said proudly.

  "Why do you think he was dead?" the lieutenant asked.

  "Because he was pale… Really kind of see-through."

  "You mean translucent?"

  "Yeah, he was translucent."

  "What did he say?" Argentine asked.

  "Say?" Marco jumped back in. "He didn't say anything… Haven't you ever heard the expression, Quiet as a ghost?"

  "Okay, then what did he do?"

  "He stood there, looking us all over."

  "He was probably trying to figure out which one of us he was going to kill first," one of the fa
mily members added.

  "Are you sure he was staring at you?" Argentine asked. "Could he have just been looking around?"

  "Oh no," Marco said. "That is what was so scary… He held eye contact with several of us.

  "Captain," he continued. "You know we will fight for you, but… How do we fight a ghost?"

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  An Observation

  Aboard the Roosevelt

  Argentine kept looking back and forth between Marco, Nicu, and several of the other Petulengros.

  Nicu was excited but he didn't act like he was playing a joke… None of them did. A few of them looked genuinely scared…

  So what was a captain supposed to do when his crew was scared of ghosts?

  He briefly considered his options and then turned to the lieutenant…

  "Lieutenant Stark, you're in charge of security. If we have intruders on board, spectral or otherwise, it's your job to find them."

  With that, he turned and walked back to his cabin.

  ΔΔΔ

  He sat on the side of the bed and pulled off his shoes, but didn’t undress any further. He laid back and closed his eyes…

  He'd be getting up soon anyway, but clearing his mind for an hour and letting his subconscious work on his problems was a successful strategy he'd used in the past.

  Or maybe it was just a good excuse to get another hour of sleep…

  Regardless, he admitted to himself that he didn't think the Petulengros were lying. They'd genuinely seen something. Which meant that he probably hadn't been dreaming about the girl at the foot of his bed…

  He'd almost convinced himself that the chief had been right.

  The alternative was to think that maybe the stress had been getting to him, or… Or what?

  The description of a short translucent ship's officer perfectly matched the girl he'd seen, except for the gender and age. Damn, he should've asked Nicu how old the ghost was…

  An irrelevant thought struck him. The Petulengros hadn't been wearing their ship's interface in the mess. They were superstitious about it – claimed they didn't want to let anything have access to their mind unless they were officially on duty.

  Argentine could understand that. He wasn't superstitious and he wore his interface every waking hour, but he automatically took it off every night before sleeping.

  He'd even become a little disoriented this morning when he'd had to stop and really think about where the mess hall was – he'd forgotten to put the interface on before he left the cabin.

  He opened his eyes and looked over at the nightstand. There was enough ambient light in the cabin that he could see it laying there.

  Well, if it can help me intuit directions on the ship maybe It can help me figure out what's going on, he thought as he picked it up and placed it on his head.

  He leaned his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander…

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  Time Keeps On Slipping...

  Earth 2349 A.D.

  It was rare for Captain Ramires to call a meeting of all department heads.

  An assembly of all hands would've been impossible; with a complement of close to three thousand people there was no room on the ship that would hold them all.

  As it was, they were using one of the main messes to accommodate the hundreds of ship's officers and scientific department heads…

  "We're a little over a year into our mission and, as many of you know or have guessed, we are leaving our spiral arm. We will soon be in the void between the Orion spur and Sagittarius arm.

  "As most of you have also guessed, we are not exploring up spiral; that was just a cover...

  "I am now going to divulge the true nature of our mission and when this meeting is concluded all of you need to gather your own people together to watch a delayed broadcast of this meeting.

  "I want all of your people present at your briefings; no exceptions. Many of you may need to work through some of the things we’re going to tell you. It's important for us to do that and resolve any issues now, before you meet with your departments… just as it will be important for you to help your people resolve any of their issues…"

  Captain Ramires went on to explain about the intelligent life extinction events that had been sweeping the known galaxy every eight million years or so.

  "What we all need to understand is that we believe the last extinction event occurred almost 10 million years ago. We are overdue and the Terran league considers this to be an imminent threat…

  "You also need to know that these weren't slow drawn-out extinctions… It appears that all civilization was suddenly and catastrophically ended."

  He let that sink in and then got specific about their mission…

  "We may have one advantage that the Betelgeuseans didn't; Earth accidentally discovered a technology that may help us figure out what's causing these extinction events; and if we can figure out what's causing them we just might be able to stop the next one.

  "The Terran League was honest with us when it told us we would never see our homes again. At least, not the homes we remember…

  "The T.L.S. Roosevelt carries three types of engines," he said, seemingly changing the subject.

  "The first, is our sub light drives which are the most advanced and some of the most massive we've ever produced.

  "The second, are our Space-time Surf motors. Surf technology is well-known and while our motors need to be massive so that their fields can cover our huge ship, they hold no mystery.

  "The third type of engine we carry, however, will be totally unknown to you. That's because it's been totally unknown to everyone up until now. The technology was accidentally discovered in a laboratory over a decade ago. Fortunately, it was a military laboratory so it was relatively easy to keep the discovery and the ongoing research a secret...

  "The type of drive I'm talking about is extremely sensitive to gravitational effects. The larger the mass being driven, the more sensitive the system is.

  "So now you know why we’re out here between the spiral arms. This is the closest location we have that meets our threshold for reduced gravity.

  "Within the next twenty-four hours we will be activating this drive. While the technology has been fully tested you should know that it's never been tested on a ship this large; so, of course, there are some risks…

  "But we gauge the risks to be relatively small, especially compared to what's at stake.

  "So, I ask all of you to rededicate yourselves to our true mission. The nature of the threat is almost totally unknown, and how we will address it is totally unforeseeable.

  "Another thing you may not know is that our ship, the T.L.S. Roosevelt, carries the most formidable weapons that the earth has ever devised.

  "But whether our mission comes down to a ship battle, or if it comes down to a single individual from our ship that has the determination to defend our race, we need to be ready.

  "Starting tomorrow, all personnel, whether military, scientific, or civilian will begin cross-training in personal self-defense, weapons, and small group tactics.

  "The last thing you need to know is perhaps the most critical...

  "We may have an opportunity to interact with unknowns that we come across on our journey. It is absolutely crucial that we not divulge the nature of our mission or our technologies.

  "Even the knowledge of the existence of our new drive could be deadly to civilization as we know it.

  "The technology that has been kept so secret, the new drive that no one else must ever know about, is a Temporal Drive.”

  ΔΔΔ

  At about the same moment, back on Earth, Admiral Sanchez was rubbing his eyes from reading the original report that was written by (then) Captain Jacoby.

  It was a miracle that the major had put two and two together and remembered a seemingly meaningless detail from an obscure report years earlier.

  Found in the tomb of Nefertiti, buried some 3,650 years ago and emb
edded in a clay figurine, was a message that had defied belief. But now… now they knew the truth of it.