Running With Argentine (29 page)

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
moments…" 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…

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.