Running With Argentine (19 page)

Earth
2344 A.D.

"Captain
Jaime Ramires, eighteen years of service to the Terran league… Two Gold Stars
and one Distinguished Navy Cross for valor… That's a distinguished record for a
young man, especially since the Terran League hasn't been at war for over a
century," Admiral Sanchez summed up.

The Captain stood in front of the admiral's desk on the
orbital platform Perseus. He kept his eyes forward and a stoic expression on
his face.

After a moment, the admiral said, "Have a seat,
Captain. You've been in charge of the Ecuador for how long now?"

"Sir, I was appointed as Captain of the T.L.S. Ecuador
one year and seven months ago," he responded casually.

"And according to all reports you've performed
admirably. Is there anything not in the reports? Anything I should know about…
In your professional or personal life?"

"No, sir. I can't think of anything to add."

"Then you need to explain to me why you volunteered for
project Hermes…"

The Admiral watched Captain Ramires nod to himself. He
must've suspected this was the reason he'd been called in for an interview.

"The mission seems challenging, Admiral. I'm looking
for a challenge."

"Explain to me just what your understanding of the
mission is."

The captain visibly gathered his thoughts and then spoke…

"A completely self-sufficient ship will be built for a
generational mission. Our purpose will be an ongoing survey up the spiral arm
towards the galactic center.

"Relay stations will be manufactured on board and
periodically deployed to help facilitate our survey information getting back to
Earth."

The Admiral thought for a moment, slowly swiveling
back-and-forth in his seat...

"Do you have any questions about the mission?"

"Tons! Where do you want me to start?"

Captain Ramires wasn't sure if it was a grin or a grimace
that briefly flickered across the Admiral's face…

"Let me rephrase, are there any questions that might be
pertinent to your decision to volunteer?"

Now it was the captain's turn to pause for a moment…

"With all respect, Sir. There is one… Why are we
traveling up spiral? Has something been detected?"

The admiral stopped casually swiveling his chair and leaned
forward. Aloud to the room he said, "Computer, send Major Jacoby in."

A side door immediately opened and a major walked in and
took the seat motioned to buy the Admiral.

"Major, I've made my decision. Say hello to the new
Captain of the T.L.S. Roosevelt."

The major reached out his hand and said,
"Congratulations, Captain."

"Thank you, Major. And thank you, Admiral."

"Okay, now that that's over with… Captain, I need you
to understand something. From this point onward you are going to be intimately
involved with the construction of the Roosevelt and the vetting and choosing of
her crew. However, what we are about to tell you carries a higher
classification than you've ever heard of.

"The story you've been told about exploring up spiral
is just that, a story – a cover. You're going to have to carry the secret of
the Roosevelt's true mission with you for the next twenty-eight months. With
only a very few exceptions, the crew that you’re recruiting and training can
never know the true mission until you've left known space… Can you do
that?"

The Admiral liked the fact that the Captain didn't respond
immediately...

"Yes, Admiral. I can."

"Okay, Major. Let's brief the Captain in…"

ΔΔΔ

Several hours
later, he took his leave. Major Jacoby looked back to the Admiral…

"You didn't tell him…"

"No, I thought it important not to."

"With all respect, Sir. Do you really think it's wise
to withhold important information like that?"

Major Jacoby was the Admiral's closest confidant. What they
had seen together… What they were both privy to… It was a bond that allowed for
such unusual familiarity…

"The consequences of such a…
complication
… might
be catastrophic. I have decided not to take the chance, the admiral
explained."

Captain Ramires left the office that day having no idea that
the Admiral had had no choice but to give him command of the mission.

En
Route to Trinity

Suddenly the
lights went out and everything went quiet.

Not the quiet of a lone watch on the bridge and not the
quiet that the crew was used to falling asleep to at night.

The Pelican was suddenly, and totally, devoid of sound. No
soft whisper of air through the ventilation system, no muffled clatter of
distant pumps, and most distinctly… no steady hum from the Dreamspace motor.

Sami was out of her cabin and into the corridor like a shot.
Mandi more sensed her brushing past than saw her.

The quiet and darkness only lasted for a few moments, but
Mandi gasped in relief when the emergency lights came on. To say that there was
enough lighting to see clearly would be a joke; but at least the ‘lit’ areas
were slightly less dark than the shadows.

The ship was quickly filling with shouts and curses…

“Who in
bloody hell
designs a ship so that you have
to trip over everything when the lights go out!”

“Is everyone ok? Sami? Where’s Sami? Oh…”

“Jeez Lieutenant, I didn’t even see you there…”

Mandi walked onto the bridge right after Argentine…

“We’ve made an emergency exit from Dreamspace,” he said.

“No shit, Sherlock,” said Barry while limping around his
station in obvious pain. “But why did all the power go out?”

“That’s what happens when you make an emergency exit.”

“No it’s not! At least not on any ship that’s been built in
the last 200 years. Don’t we have an energy field dampener on this ship?”

“Yes, of course we do… but you can’t just dump all our
electricity into it at once! It could never handle that…”

“Are you having a laugh? Are you telling me this buggered
ship isn’t even capable of that? You’re all insane - and I’m just as barmy for
crewing with you!”

It was hard to tell, but in the dim light Mandi thought
Argentine was looking her way…

“Don’t look at me! I’ve never been on a ship that couldn’t
handle an emergency energy dump.”

Argentine closed his eyes and then hit the intercom
activation switch. Of course, it didn’t work…

Lost in history was the discovery of Dreamspace and the
invention of the Dreamspace Motor. What everyone did know, however, was that
mankind came very close to not using it.

In those very early attempts, test vessels could enter
Dreamspace just fine… but they blew up on exit. Every. Single. Time.

Eventually, some theoretician realized that at the precise
moment of reentry into our normal universe the mass and energy of a ship went
to infinity - at least that’s what the mathematical equations showed.

Through a bunch of brilliant brainwork (and probably a lot
of trial and error) they discovered that the mass wasn’t a problem; it was
actually happening between the two universes when the ship technically didn’t
exist. The energy, however, was a different story.

And it wasn’t all forms of energy. Kinetic energy posed no
problems and even the bioelectric processes inside the human body weren’t affected.
Electrical energy, though - everyday A.C. or D.C. current - couldn’t dissipate
fast enough upon reentry. Therefore… boom.

The solution was to create an energy dump.

Immediately before reentry, all of a ship’s electricity was
fed into the dump and ‘vented’ into Dreamspace. For a ship’s crew this
typically caused a barely noticeable flicker of the lights. From the outside it
created the now well-known blue light effect that accompanied all ships’ exit
from that alien universe.

Argentine was now realizing, however, that the Pelican’s
technology was far inferior to what was common in this sector of the spiral
arm.

On the Pelican, the dump could only handle the energy of one
system being dumped at a time. It was rapid; all of the ship’s systems could
dump their energy within the blink of an eye… but it couldn’t happen
simultaneously.

Therefore, if an emergency exit was called for, the People’s
Republic of Chezden’s ships just turned off.

Apparently, everyone else from this region of space used
dumps with no such limitations.

But that wasn’t what was occupying Argentine’s thoughts at
the moment…

He needed to know why they’d made an emergency exit.

ΔΔΔ

After telling
everyone to man their bridge stations he’d made his way to engineering as
quickly as he could; he’d only stubbed his toe once along the way.

When he burst into the engineering bay he was greeted with
an unexpected scene…

Rory was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his head in
his hands.

The chief was leaning up against the wall, quietly whistling
some tune.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"Ah, here he is, Rory. I told you we wouldn't have to
wait long."

"Chief?"

"Well, we had to make an emergency drop out of
Dreamspace…"

"Yeah, I get that part. But why? What's going on?"

"Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"Chief…" Argentine said with a bit of menace in
his voice.

"Okay, okay… The good news is that it's not anything
serious, or at least not fatal…

"It's my fault, really," he continued. "I
knew that our maintenance protocols were stretched too thin but I thought I was
still on top of it."

Rory lifted his head and started to say something, but the
chief went on…

"Rory's going to try and take the blame but really,
Frank, I can't let him. It's my responsibility and he's been working his butt
off. He thought that I was taking care of the ionization field calibrations…
And I should've been.

"The long and the short of it is that we're adrift in
deep space and we're stuck here until we can totally recalibrate the system.

"The good news is that it shouldn't be a problem; it
will just take some time."

"How much time?"

"Rory and I are the only two that are competent to work
on it. Normally, it would take a team of five about two days. We'll do our best
but to do it safely I'd say to give us six days."

When Argentine didn't say anything the chief hesitated, and
then pressed on…

"On the other hand, it could be a blessing in
disguise."

Argentine cocked his head, listening.

We could use the downtime to take care of all the other
maintenance duties that I've been hesitant to do in port… You know, in case we
needed to leave really quickly."

"How much extra time would that take?"

"Well, if the whole crew chipped in, not much. Maybe an
extra day? Call it a full week to get everything back up and running so I don't
lay awake at night."

"We'll miss our deadline on delivering the ore,"
Argentine mused.

In a much more animated way the chief said, "To hell
with that! Go tell your redhead and the professor that if they don't agree to a
new delivery schedule and pay us as promised we’ll just forget about dropping
him off at Trinity along the way."

Argentine raised an eyebrow. "I think you're onto
something, chief. I'll do just that. In the meantime…

"Do you think you could turn the lights back on?"

Adrift
in Deep Space

Rory and the chief
were hip-deep in the ionization field calibrations.

Sami and Barry were conducting a complete systems check on
the ships sensors, and would then start on the computer maintenance.

Lieutenant Stark and Gossip were EVA; they were conducting a
thorough inspection of the ship’s hull and would follow-up with long overdue
maintenance on the weapons systems.

The Petulengro family had seemed eager to help and were
surprisingly adept at repairing and cleaning food dispensers and other
important, but nonessential equipment.

Even the professor had gotten involved; he could be found in
any number of the ship’s departments with a cleaning agent and a rag. There
wasn’t much dust in space but control panels did get grimy. The showers and
head also got cleaned so it seemed he was keeping himself busy.

That left Argentine and Mandi.

He hadn’t planned it so they’d be paired up together… not
really. And the task they were undertaking was important.

They were taking a complete inventory.

Most Dirt Denizens don’t realize how important it is for
ships to carry accurate inventories.

It isn’t just for the accounting purposes associated with
buying and selling cargo…

For the most part, a starship is a closed system. On a
long-haul military ship like the Pelican this is especially true. The only way
that additional mass is added or subtracted from the ship is by taking on
supplies in port or via the crew on shore leave.

Every returning crewman is automatically weighed when
returning to the ship and is, technically, required to fill out a property
report detailing everything new they either brought aboard or left ashore.

Argentine knew that it was possibly the most abused
regulation in the Republic’s navy.

Whether it was the chief sneaking his cognac and
unauthorized spare parts, or the political officer giving private ‘tours’ of
his living quarters and having ‘Top Secret’ items delivered to the ship, no one
filled out the reports.

Although he’d never seen it on the Pelican, he even knew of
a ship where the crew liked to collect exotic pets.

The reason that all this is important is because the mass of
the Pelican is a critical factor in astrogating the ship through Dreamspace
and, on a lessor scale, navigating through real space.

Fortunately, the tolerances weren’t incredibly tight; the
mass calculations could be off by a fair amount without creating significant
danger. Still, Argentine knew for a fact that the ship’s inventory log still
included equipment that they’d long ago traded away, so…

“That makes for seven Anaphylaxis shock pens and three boxes
of 500 count tongue depressors,” Mandi called out.

“You know, an allergic reaction can kill you and you’ve only
got seven pens. But boy, you’re sure prepared for an uncontrolled outbreak of
sore throats…”

This wasn’t the first time she’d commented on some
absurdities in their provisioning and Argentine was doing his best to ignore
them. She’d never experienced the People’s Republic of Chezden.

She went on, "Explain to me again why we're doing
this?"

"I've told you; there are a lot of reasons."

"Yeah, you talked about tracking volatiles and the
importance of the computer analyzing all the possible chemical
contraindications in our environment, but it's got to be more than that, right?"

"Of course there's more to it. Sami needs to have good
mass calculations and it's past time that we updated them."

They had just finished with the medical alcove and were
turning to walk up corridor towards the bridge when Mandi stopped in her tracks.

"You're taking inventory to calculate the mass of the
ship?" she asked incredulously.

Argentine gritted his teeth but didn't say anything.

An honestly perplexed Mandi went on, "Why wouldn't you
just check the increased velocity after a controlled burst from the
engines?"

Still musing out loud she continued, "f = ma… Force
equals mass times acceleration. You apply a known amount of thrust and it will
equal your acceleration times X. It's a simple equation. Solve X and you'll
know your mass down to 9 decimals…"

Realization suddenly dawned on her…

"You can't measure your thrust! This ship's engines are
so low-tech that you can't get a consistent or reliable thrust!"

Argentine couldn't be sure but it felt like he might be
getting a little red in the face.

When Mandi laughed, it was all he could take.

"I'm glad you find us so backwards and low-tech. You
must think we're barbaric, too. What I'd like to know is, if we are so hopeless
why do you keep constantly tagging along with us?"

Mandi had stopped laughing and was listening.

"You know, not everyone that joins our crew thinks the
Pelican is ready for the boneyard. She's a little old but she's a good ship,
and everyone that works her knows that."

After a moment of thought Mandi said, "Captain, I didn't
mean to insult your ship. But let me ask you something… Have you ever been on
any other ships in this sector of space?"

"Well… No, I guess not. And I know that Asperia is a
more advanced civilization, but Barry's experienced other levels of technology
and he doesn't think we’re so backwards."

"Actually, he does," she said. "I've even
heard him complain about it."

"Maybe, but not so much that he’s in a hurry to leave
our crew."

"If he's not wanting to leave, he's got other reasons.
I promise you it has nothing to do who with wanting to pilot this glorious hunk
of metal…

"Okay, okay… Sorry," she said as she realized he
was starting to rile up again.

"Is there really that much difference in the Pelican
and other ships that are in common use around here?"

Mandi pursed her lips and then blew out her breath,
"Yeah, there really is. You obviously now know about the engine and
astrogation technology – they’re way ahead of where you're at. But it's more
than that…

"Your food preparation, your climate control… When I
first came aboard I thought maybe your ship was still under construction, with
all the exposed conduits on the ceiling and walls.

"Look Captain, I'm really not trying to be offensive.
Apparently this ship has served you and your crew well. It's just that… I mean,
even your bathrooms are primitive."

Somewhere in the conversation her voice had lost its
taunting edge. By the time she'd finished Argentine realized that this was
simply her attempt at being candid.

After a moment, he spoke again, "Well, it's all the
more reason that we need to keep a clean record and get off to a good start in
an advanced society like Asperia. I don't know if you realize it, Mandi, but
these are good people and they’re just looking for a good place to settle into."

"And you can’t decide whether I'm helping or hurting
that effort," she finished for him.

When he didn't say anything she cocked her head slightly and
then asked an important question…

"What makes you think the Asperian Sphere would be a
good place to settle into? What makes you think this is a good place at
all?"

ΔΔΔ

"Are you
saying it's not?" Argentine asked.

"They say it used to be," she replied. "My
dad used to tell me stories… They say that Asperia and her surrounding sphere
of influence became the safest place in the known spiral arm.

"Outsiders would hear the story of Asperia and flock
here, wanting to start a new life. And they were welcomed…"

"Huh? A few people have been friendly enough, but I
can't say we've had much of a
welcoming
experience."

"No. Things have changed."

Intrigued despite himself, Argentine asked, "What
happened?"

In a less somber manner Mandi said, "That's the million
credit question! No one knows, not really. From what I gather there used to be
a real sense of pride here. People followed the rules because they were, well…
fair. I doubt that it was ever a perfect utopia, but Asperia stood for
something people believed in."

"And what was that?"

"Freedom. Freedom to live and let live. They say it use
to be a place where even an orphan girl could grow up and do well for
herself."

"And it's not anymore?"

She suddenly laughed.

"Are you asking me if my sordid life is simply a result
of the bad choices I've made? Are you suggesting it has nothing to do with the
system being rigged and stacked against people?”

Mandi paused in reflection…

"Yeah, there are probably a lot of bad decisions
involved in my personal situation… But I'm not trying to blame anyone else for
my troubles. Things really have changed; at least if you believe my daddy and
others about the way things used to be."

After a moment of his own reflection Argentine said,
"Back in the People's Republic of Chezden, we were always being bombarded
with how great the Republic was, about how fortunate we were and how grateful
we should be.

"I think a lot of the masses fell for it. But you
didn't have to serve in the Navy for very long to realize it was all
propaganda. That utopia they wanted us to believe in didn't exist; it probably
never existed."

"That doesn't surprise me, Captain. From what I've
learned about where you came from it sounds like it was a brutal regime. I
never paid much attention, but when I did go to school they tried to teach us
the histories of places like that.

"I don't think that's the way it happened here, though.

"We get our fair share of propaganda… The guilds
promote themselves, the open societies are always advertising about the good
they're doing with one cause or another, and of course the police and military
have their own public relations arms.

"So yeah, there are still a fair number of people that
believe Asperia is a great place. But there are too many people around that
still remember the way it used to be."

"Mandi, I'm still not sure I understand what's
changed?" Argentine said softly.

"It's the military," she said. “You have no idea
what's happened here."

ΔΔΔ

"I had my own
run in with your military," Argentine reminded her.

"So I heard," she responded. "But that's not
really what I'm getting at…

"Asperia has always been a loose collection of
different factions. The guilds have their own interests; the open societies have
theirs… And that’s always given us a kind of natural set of checks and balances
that keep any one entity from getting too out of line."

"You're leaving out the secret societies," he
said.

"Yes, and that's where most people think the problem is
coming from. Our prosperity happened so fast - once it started settling in on
the planets and colonies aligned with Asperia, pirates and other scoundrels
were attracted like moths to a flame. Our trade ships and smaller colonies
needed protection, so the secret societies chipped in and funded the Asperian
military – what you would call a space navy."

"Well, if it's made up of the type of thugs I met I can
understand why it's been a problem."

"That's the thing… it wasn't. At least not at first.
Even when I was a kid I remember people being very patriotic and respectful of
military service. It was an honorable profession."

Argentine could've prodded her to continue, but he let his
silence do it for him…

"Somewhere along the way, a bunch of regulations
started popping up that the military needed to enforce. The secret societies
issued them in the name of security. But over time, the amount of dictates
became massive. Today, we have over twenty thousand new regulations being
issued every year.

"They started out just regulating interstellar trade,
but now, most of the regulations apply to any kind of trade… Anyplace, anytime.

"The military has the authority to enforce them but, at
least for the larger planets, they simply pressure the police to do it for
them.

"So you see, Captain. We are not quite as free as you
seem to think we are."

"Can't you object? Surely the secret societies aren't
totally immune to public pressure?"

"That's just it. The secret societies are… Secret. Who
do you put pressure on? Their only visible arm is the military and that just
wouldn’t be a good idea… Not that there haven’t been some that have tried
it."

"So that’s your justification for the cartels? For
gaming the system…? That it's rigged, it's not fair?" Argentine asked
somewhat cynically.

"I told you, I'm not making excuses for anyone. But you
asked about the way things are; I'm simply trying to give you the answer.