Chapter 4

Trucowl Flagship Te-SAL-Dar-ADLAMUR, approaching Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

 

           From the equivalent of a Mission Control Center, the female Trucowl commanding this ship, Admiral Alxaquiem called to Kogure who was in a quadroplex of private rooms with a central lounge, all sharing a common living and social area. To them, only minutes had passed since they had left Earth. It had actually been several hours. “Ambassador Kogure?”

            “Yes, Ma’am?”

            “We are approaching Roata 2 and are disconnecting the Semitiers.” The Trucowl had made reference to the spinning cylinders within cylinders each moving in counter-rotation to the ones next to each, located behind the spherically-shaped main ship body ship. Together, they brought the Trucowl Flagship to Superoptic speeds. When power was disconnected, as in the case of the LIBERTY 72 Tunnel Ratio Speed engines, the ship would fall to 0.25c. What amazed the humans observing Trucowl design was the lack of reaction propulsion of any kind. Apparently using some form of directed energy somewhat related to the Earth Courselators the ship could slow, turn, spin, and even land smoothly on a planet’s surface or planetoid like Earth’s moon, all without ejecting a single particle stream or energy flow. As advanced as the technologies seemed to be, the Earth humans aboard this ship knew, they were developed over eons, and Trucowl technological advancement had actually been very slow if not lethargic in speed. The best way it was described to Kogure when she was on Trucowl 5 was that the Trucowls were not in effect moving the ship but only the surrounding Universe around the ship.

            “Thank you, Admiral. Shall we come up now?”

            “We are ready for you, Ambassador Kogure. Please hurry – I have something else to show you.”

            Kogure knew her way around this ship and in much lighter gravity than what she was used to or what had had existed in the human quadroplex guest quarters, and much different but breathable air she led Lisa Stewart, Victor Martin, Debbie Hernandez-Martin, and Jonas Bu’Tan to the Control Sphere. Once there, they stood on a thin transparency which divided the hemisphere constructed around them. On the outer edge of the transparency where the northern hemisphere was met was a console of sorts shaped like a bagel cut in half, manned by dozens of Trucowls each in contact with each other. There were over a hundred stations along the huge outer ring that appeared small because of distance from the comfortable seat occupied by Admiral Alxaquiem. Like in the Botany Lab surrounding the Command Moat on LIBERTY 72, the walls projected an image of the outside Universe as if the rest of the ship wasn’t even there. On a smaller main screen before Alxaquiem, shaped as a round disk but also capable of becoming completely transparent as the Trucowl leader wished, was a magnification display guided by her command from a small console on her chair.

            “This is an amazing place,” said Victor Martin. “Your technologies are impressive indeed.”

            “Thank you, Admiral Vic.” They had met before, and the only strangers to her were Jonas Bu’Tan and Lisa Stewart.  “Are you President Stewart?” Alxaquiem asked the man who seemed strangely familiar to James Earl Jones, an actor from many Earth cinematic efforts which had become her treasured favorites.

            “That would be me,” said Lisa Stewart. “This man is Jonas Bu’Tan, the President of the detestable renegade Earth corporation Liberty Enterprises.”

            “Ah, I see,” said Alxaquiem. “Speaking of Liberty Enterprises … it seems that your LIBERTY 72 is arriving several hours sooner than we had anticipated.” In the presentation on the spherical display around them the view was in the perspective that it could have been seen with a window of near perfection, and so it appeared as only an incredibly small dot slowly moving towards the ever growing Roata 2. It was made brighter partially by reflecting the light of the sun, and partially because of the Linear Spike Engines which were slowing the ship as it approached planetary orbit. On the magnified display on the disk the shape was undeniably that of a ship from Liberty Enterprises, but the forward-facing LSE pods were producing such light that by contrast the ship was too dark to see much detail other than overall shape. To Victor Martin, this reminded him of ancient night Space Shuttle launches when the booster flame was so bright that one could hardly make out much detail of the Orbiter itself. Alxaquiem interpreted one of the commands from one of her subordinates on the outer ring of the sphere, delivered to a headset around her large Trucowl head. “The ship is interrogating our beacon,” said Alxaquiem. “They are sending their confirmation that they are registered to Liberty Enterprises. The signal is truncated – apparently by malfunction or by deliberate act.” Suddenly they observed the forward facing LSE Pods go dark for several seconds as the ship coasted at what appeared to be more than a tenth the speed of light. The distant ship then rolled, yawed somewhat, and pitched up slightly. Then, then the rear-facing LSE Pods ignited to carry the ship back to a full-acceleration change of speed. It was obviously accelerating on a new course that would not bring the ship to Roata 2. Within less than a few minutes the planet would eclipse the ship.

            “Something’s not right,” said Victor Martin. “They’re running from us.”

            “It would appear so,” said Alxaquiem.

            “Admiral Alxaquiem,” said Kogure, “can you use that modified DC Communications equipment I brought on board? If you range their Mission Control Center, you should be able to establish two-way communications.”

            “Yes, Ambassador Kogure,” said Alxaquiem. “That is an excellent idea. It is already integrated into our systems.” She made a few commands in the Trucowl language to her subordinates, which sounded more like song than speech in pleasant tones reminding many of finely tuned wind chimes. “We are unable to … range – as you call it … the Mission Control Center. But we are on live with something called the Auxiliary Mission Control Center. You’re on, Admiral Martin. After all, this is your ship.”

            “LIBERTY 72, this is Admiral Victor Martin. Respond please.”

            “Uh, hello? Yo, dawg – who is this? I didn't call you.”

            Martin turned to his wife, and then the others, perplexed. “Are you sure we have the Auxiliary MCC?”

            “I’m positive,” said Alxaquiem.

            “LIBERTY 72, this is Admiral Martin of Liberty Enterprises. Come in, please.”

            “Uh, Admiral Martin, this is ….” There was a long pause. “This is LIBERTY 72. What do you want?”

            Martin was clearly losing his patience. “I want to speak to former Captain Joseph Lee Carr, immediately.”

            “Yo I’m Representin' Phat today. If you want to haggle over scrubs, then you can talk to me. You really don’t want to start a ruckus, Money. Hundoe?”

            “What language is he speaking?” asked Bu’Tan.

            “The language of Joe Carr being fired from command of that ship,” said Victor Martin.

            “The precise language seems to be one of adaptive inferiority,” said Debbie Hernandez-Martin. “Unfortunately, I can translate down to that level, if you want me to do so.”

            “Later,” urged Alxaquiem as she turned to Victor Martin. “Admiral, your ship has activated their Target Adaptive Frequency Weapons! They are locking on to this Flagship – their weapons are at full power.” Alerts appeared at several stations around them. “I am raising bounce fences. I am also required to power up our offenses to return fire.”

           “Admiral,” said Kogure sternly, “do not – I repeat do not fire on them.”

           “I have standard orders,” said Alxaquiem.

           “I am overriding them,” said Kogure. “This must all be some sort of mistake.”

           “I have a crew filled with Trucowls that will want answers,” Admiral Alxaquiem warned Yukiko Kogure with emphasis as her Trucowl skin tone shifted to unmitigated anger. “Just as my crew will want answers from me, I will expect some very good answers from you regarding your loyalties to the Crown which gave you this assignment and made me subordinate to a mere human who is apparently working for interests other than loyalty to the Crown.”

           “I stand behind the Precepts, Admiral,” said Kogure with an equally stern voice. “As is standard procedure, we must identify the prey as the competent predator. We don’t know who that person is, and we’re not even really sure it’s LIBERTY 72. Are we?”

           “You are correct, Ambassador,” said a slightly embarrassed Alxaquiem. “I profusely abase myself. The Queen of Trucowl 5 again reveals her wisdom through you.”

           “Don’t worry about it,” said Kogure. “I’ll explain everything in a second - a brief moment in time.”

           “Sorry for the delay,” said the voice from the other ship. “I have an answer for you now. Here it is.” The very distant ship opened fire on the Trucowl Flagship with a full barrage of light streams in bands meant to account for the bounce fences and other defenses employed by the Trucowls. Within only a few seconds the attack ended as the ship disappeared beyond the horizon of the approaching Roata 2.

           “They have inflicted searing damage to small parts of this Flagship,” reported Alxaquiem. “There is some damage that will require a return to base to repair. We are not seriously damaged, however. But Precepts are Precepts. May I recommend that we move quickly to identify the ship and then take it out?”

           “Make preparations to activate the Semitiers for Superoptic flight,” Kogure said. “As is standard procedure, we must identify the ship and if applicable destroy it if they fire on us again.”

           “Yukiko,” said Victor Martin, “you can’t be serious. You want this Flagship to break orbit, hunt down and destroy one of our own ships?”

           “One of your own ships, Vic,” replied Kogure. “You explain to me why a Liberty Enterprises hull just opened fire on a Trucowl ship, until now in spirit one of Earth’s best unspoken friends and unwritten allies! You’re the Admiral of the Liberty Fleet, Admiral. You tell me what’s going on!”

           “I can’t,” he admitted.

           “This is why I never trusted Liberty Enterprises,” said Lisa Stewart. “This is exactly why they can not be permitted to roam freely in space getting Earth into interstellar battles for which my government will be held responsible.”

           “President Stewart,” said Kogure, “with all due respect, shut up. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Roata 2 was the idea of Sunshine Mining - your largest campaign contributor, and on Trucowl 5 I have gathered more than enough evidence that your favorite corporation has been sending plenty of unethical kickbacks from the operations of Sunshine Mining out here to your doorstep in Salt Lake City. Now is just not the time for that debate.”

           Stewart merely laughed. “What you call kickbacks we call taxes. What you call unethical I still call legal. We will have that discussion, Ambassador Kogure, in front of my Tribunals, not yours, when we get back to Earth. That, I can promise.”

           “Let’s hope there’s an Earth left for that debate,” said a thoroughly disgusted Kogure as she turned to Victor Martin. “If the Trucowl estimate is correct, the tax base of North America here is about to come to a violent end within a day or so. Vic, I must tell you in whatever language it takes for you to believe me. Please listen carefully - I’m only going to say it once. I am not here to represent Liberty Enterprises, nor Earth's interests. I am a bona-fide fully empowered Ambassador of the Trucowl Crown. Admiral Alxaquiem is correct so far as what we must do next. The only reason I have not ordered the commander of this flagship to destroy that ship yet according to her standing orders is because I am not really sure that ship really is LIBERTY 72. If it is, then I must spare the ship because of a Precept that demands I use restraint when it is likely that a Trucowl life is at stake. As long as Fioha Secowm is assumed to be alive on LIBERTY 72, I can not destroy the ship. I am sorry I had failed to mention to Admiral Alxaquiem that a Trucowl is on that ship, and not still on Earth as she had assumed.  Whatever that ship is, the crew there will be safe so long as they do not fire on us again. If it is not LIBERTY 72, and if they fire on us again, I will destroy that ship, no matter how many human lives are at stake. Understood?”

           “What has happened to you, Yukiko?” asked Debbie Hernandez-Martin.

           “No,” said her husband. “She’s right, Deb. We have to keep the bigger picture in view. Whatever that ship is, its actions are indefensible. There must be retribution for their actions. But promise me, Yukiko, that you’ll be merciful in allowing the crew to get off alive.”

           “I will,” she said. “As a human, that’s the least I can do.”

           Alxaquiem turned to the humans. “They are now emerging from the other horizon of the planet. They are already at Superoptic Speeds – which equates to what you call “ISM Eight.”

           “Break orbit,” ordered Kogure. “Activate Semitiers and follow Admiral Martin’s wayward starship to wherever it wants to lead us.”

           “So we have a deal, Ambassador Kogure?”

           “We have no deal, Vic. Nor do we have a choice. We simply have a situation.”

            Leaving the Suboptic Universe the Large Landing Shuttle that had launched from the back side of the planet with Carlos Martinez on it would escape detection.  But from the distance LIBERTY 95 had been when Martinez activated its computer instructions to fly to a place where he could retrieve it later, it would take several hours for the Large Landing Shuttle to turn back towards Roata 2 and arrive at its destination.

* * *

 

LIBERTY 72, approaching Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

 

           “LSE’s off,” said Julie Perkins. “Settling into a nice approach for a smooth glide into orbit of Roata 2. Still no sign of the Trucowl Flagship.”

           “We’ve successfully established short-range communications,” reported Monique Rivers. “I’m not sure I’m talking with anyone in a traffic control or command structure – yet.”

           “This is Roata 2,” said Antonio DiNyro. “It’s a no-man’s land – a wild frontier without laws or rules. Don’t expect an ordered government structure here.”

           “I think you’re right,” said Rivers, winking at him as they had become closer in the last few weeks. “We have been surrounded by space taxi's. As I best understand the slang, we’re being told it is illegal here to travel to the planet via our own shuttles.”

           “There are no laws here,” said Carr. “They’re bluffing.”

           “Perhaps,” said Rivers, “but they’re also well armed. Not enough to do any significant damage to our ship, but they could really put some dents in our Large Landing Shuttles if we try to get past them.”

           “I see,” said Carr. “I know how these places work – from an unlucky visit to a Native Tribe Casino last time I was back in Florida. Ask them how many Spenderos it will cost to buy and exception to their laws.”

           Rivers smiled. “Good idea. I wish I would have thought of that. I’ll let you know.” For several seconds from the First Officer station she bargained with the Space Taxis until they had agreed upon a price and a bank account from which to transfer Spenderos electronically from Liberty Enterprises to the Sunshine Mining bank on the planet’s surface. They settled for 1,143 Spenderos, and Carr volunteered to have it taken out of his pay, to avoid complications and explanations on Earth.

            “Okay, Julie, Antonio, Antonia – are we ready for a little adventure?”

            “You never take me anywhere,” said Perkins. “And now you want me to go with you – to the wild west? Why can’t First Officer Rivers go instead?”

            “I need her to make sure this ship is out of harms way if the Astenfaji start opening fire on this planet before the Trucowls get here. They’re supposed to be here, and they’re late – and we don’t know yet if the Astenfaji plan on holding their current slow speeds to get here earlier than we anticipate. We just can’t take that chance.”

           “He’s right,” said Antonio DiNyro. “My sensors estimate that the first wave of thousands of Astenfaji ships should be here as soon as tomorrow night, adjusted to the local time in the main city. I'm seeing signs that a few scouts are already here - I am working to confirm that. That convoy huge convoy was traveling so slowly that as we passed them, most of them only appeared as faint mirages on our sensors, almost like ghosts. I'm sure we didn't see them all. Some may be far ahead of the main convoy.”

           “That’s not the worst news,” said Rivers. “We’re tracking a segregated convoy over to Nunki Resort, and now we have to somehow find a way to get the small but very affluent population off that planet, too. That really puts us on a tight schedule. We thought they would be spared. Unfortunately they won't be.”

           “So what good will I be on that planet?” insisted Perkins.

           “I’ll need your attitude to keep me out of trouble, and entertained.”

           “A song and a dance is going to cost you, Captain Carr, dear.”

           “We might not be ready to leave just yet …” said Antonio DiNyro as he saw an alarm on his console. “I’m watching a Liberty Enterprises Large Landing Shuttle come over the horizon – it’s approaching at about 25,000 miles per hour on a five percent angle of attack under the horizon.”

           “A Liberty Enterprises LLS?” asked Carr. “How can that be?”

           “I’ve interrogated the area for a Liberty Enterprises beacon. So far, the only returns come from the three LLS’s in our LLS Bay and that one. There is no ship anywhere around here and the occupant of that LLS is intentionally masking the beacon.”

           “Intelascan?”

           “I didn’t turn it on. We can go fly around Superoptic for a while if you think I should.”

           “No need. The answers to all of my questions are on that LLS. Scan it.”

           “I detect no explosives or dangerous cargo, and one person is on board.”

           “Thank you, Antonio,” said Carr as he turned to Rivers. “Monique, have Teresa Sanchez move LLS Bravo up into the Maintenance Bay. As soon as she clears that pad, have her lock on to that mysterious LLS with the Chopstick Tow and bring it aboard.”

            “Will do,” said Rivers. “What if they put up a fight?”

            “I’m more worried about the other ships firing on it – but so far, I don’t think we’ve given them any reason to do so. Our CST can overpower LLS LSE’s, and if not we’ll remotely disable their controls by command override and a switch to closed-loop guidance under Teresa’s controls. We’ve practiced the drill many times.”

            “Message delivered,” said Rivers. “Ranger Sanchez is requesting information about cargo loads, vessel origin and passenger manifest for her records and for weight-and-balance calculations to be fed into Antonia’s computers.”

            “Cargo loads? Probably a lot of contraband if it’s near Roata 2. Vessel origin? Probably stolen if it’s near Roata 2. Passenger manifest? Probably fugitive, if he’s around Roata 2.”

           “What does that make us?” asked Julie Perkins.

           “Seriously out of place,” said Carr. “Let's go, Antonio, Antonia, Julie.”

* * *

 

           The Chopstick Tow was named after its function as five projectors located around the back panel of the ship sent coiled pillars of force field energy. They were similar to the Push Stick but much finer in projected size and much more finely controllable. They could be used to repel a larger object but with objects smaller than the width of their spread they could be used to surround an object at a significant range, like five fingers picking up an object. The Chopstick Tow would then change the angle of the beams, pushing the trapped object towards the ship like fingers crossing over each other. At last, the object was captured within the LLS Bay. Air returned to the partitioned force field around the landing platform normally reserved for LLS Bravo after the LLS Bay Doors closed.

           The partition then dropped and a large cadre of security forces immediately surrounded the vehicle clearly marked as L-95 LLS-C or in extended form LIBERTY 95 LLS Charlie.

           “We can’t have two LLS Charlie’s on this ship, said Carr as he turned to Ranger Teresa Sanchez. “Remark that to L-72 LLS D.”

           “LIBERTY 72 LLS Delta. That’s new.”

           “We specialize in the new, Ranger Sanchez,” said Carr as the side hatch finally opened and the stunned visitor slowly walked down the pedestrian ramp to the landing platform. “Hands in the air,” ordered Carr.

           “You disabled the Oowops,” he said. “How?”

           “Old school,” said Sanchez. “I learned how to disable LLS TAF Weapons last time Captain Carr and I had to retrieve a stolen LLS – years ago.”

           “Word, butter pecan,” said the new arrival to an unimpressed Sanchez as he turned to Carr. “Who are you?”

           “I’m the Captain Joseph Carr that Ranger Sanchez is talking about.”

           “The famous Joseph Lee Carr? You look so young. So here’s the famous LIBERTY 72. Somehow I expected something bigger … cleaner … more impressive. It’s not even tricked out. You obviously have no class, Captain Carr.”

           “Flippant use of time will not give you more of it,” said Carr. “Who are you?”

           “I am a resident of Roata 2 illegally detained here.”

           “There are no laws here,” said Carr. “So nothing is really illegal here, is it? Seems to me that possession is nine-tenths of the laws that don't exist here.”

           “It’s just so babbie that I was forced aboard this ship! You don’t know who you’re messin’ with!”

           “Quit trying to dip us, fugazy!” said Sanchez. “Speak like you’re smart enough to be out here, or maybe we’ll show you who you’re messin’ with!”

           “Carlos Martinez. I run an honest business on the surface. Here's my identification...” he slowly pulled it out and handed it to Sanchez.

            “Amazing,” said Sanchez. “The credentials, genuine or not, really say his name is Carlos Martinez.”

            “Tell me about your so-called honest business,” prodded Carr.

            “I run a night club in the day, and a salvage operation at night.”

            “You run a night club in the day?” asked Antonia DiNyro. “Do you know how stupid that sounds?”

           “It’s a niche market,” said Martinez. “Unique sells. Day for finding twerkers, night for enjoying them.” He turned to Perkins. “We always have room for some hot chocolate. Looking for a second job for a little extra cheddar?”

           Perkins’ immediate, if not necessarily authorized response was to smoothly and quickly use her respectable martial arts skills to transfer Martinez from the vertical to horizontal position with his throat in her grip. “Do you want to rephrase that, buster?” She had clearly frightened Martinez with her speed and skills in hand-to-hand combat.

           “Quit trippin’ out! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything – just smalltalk! Naw’mean?”

           “He is not much worth alive, but he is worth even less dead. Let him go,” ordered Carr as Perkins reluctantly released him but left it up to Martinez to slowly, with great caution return himself to the standing position.

           “Is a place like your establishment even legal?” asked Sanchez.

           “Of course it is,” said Martinez. “We do our best to outlaw churches, missionaries, and do-gooders - for their own good and safety and mental health, of course – but even these have made their way to Roata 2. I can give you references, if you want, some of them are actually good people. Take me with you to the planet. Okay?”

           “No,” said Carr, “not okay. You’re under arrest.”

           “You have no po-po authority here, one-time.”

           “I want answers,” said Carr. “Where is LIBERTY 95?”

           “How much is that information worth to you?”

           Carr moved his fingers around Martinez’ arm and began to squeeze short of breaking bones. “The way I understand things you’re a punk in the grip of a very angry Commanding Officer in orbit above a planet without laws. Do I make myself clear to you? What is your arm worth to you? For the last time, where is LIBERTY 95?”

           “Yo” Martinez said looking at the others, “tell him to stop! Liberty Enterprises has its own set of laws – even here! Right?”

           Perkins smiled. “You said it yourself. There are no laws here.”

           “Okay,” said Martinez. “I don’t know where LIBERTY 95 is. I just know where it’s not – in this Star System. They passed through earlier today. Okay, I was aboard, and I stole the LLS, and the ship left without me. I have no idea where the ship went. That is all I know! Okay?”

           Carr’s grip tightened momentarily evoking a scream that even stunned his crew, and then he released the grip, but only slightly. “Now would you please explain with some dignity exactly how you came to be in possession of this fine Large Landing Shuttle? It was not an easy feat - the ship should have reeled you back in the same way I just brought you aboard this ship.”

           “Talking civilized doesn’t make you civilized,” said Martinez as Carr again tightened his grip on Martinez’ arm. “Okay! Okay! I give up. I stole it when no one was looking. I swear upon the veil of Mother Davis - that is the truth. But before you give me a yard, po-po, you need to consider that without my help as a tour guide on Roata 2, pretty boy, you won't survive two hours on that planet. You're here for something, or you wouldn't be here. If you take me with you, you may actually make it through a few hours alive on that planet.”

           “Captain,” said Antonia DiNyro, “that actually sounds like a good plan. I’ve heard how quickly tourists and visitors get rolled down there. But we do need to get down there to find out if the crew from LIBERTY 95 got stranded down there. If they were not on the ship to stop Martinez from stealing a Large Landing Shuttle ...”

           “I agree with my sister. From communications I’ve picked up on the surface so far,” said Antonio DiNyro, “I honestly don’t know how we’re going to survive an hour without a snake this low in the grass with you.”

           “Let’s say I agree with the idea,” said Carr as he released, and then faced Martinez. “How can we know you’re not going to be the one arranging trouble for us down there?”

           “I am always willing to go to church,” said Martinez.

           “The term has multiple connotations,” Sanchez warned Carr.

           “Agreed,” said Carr. “I want you to know, Martinez, that this ship has TAF Weapons that can target any person or building on the ground. This ship will be watching us.”

           “And my peeps will be watching us, too,” Martinez countered. “You cross me, and all I have to do is twist my thumb or blink a certain way, and you'll see a pack of bad news fly out of every door in the city. For now you’ll just have to trust that I value my life enough to not want to risk being killed in the cross-fire. So, let's go... my ride or yours?”

            “They’re both mine, now,” said Carr as he turned to his LLS Bay Supervisor. “Ranger Sanchez, is LLS Alpha ready to go?”

            “As always,” she said.

            “Have Monique Rivers spot LIBERTY 72 in a geosynchronous orbit over the city that Martinez calls home. I am pretty sure it will be that big city we spotted on the coast near the equator. I want LIBERTY 72 always within line of sight to take out half that city the second Martinez causes us trouble down there. Have the Trucowls park close to this ship when it arrives. And while we’re gone,” added Carr, “I want you and Fioha Secowm to roll through the system logs of the stolen LLS, Teresa. This dumb slug doesn't seem smart enough to realize a running record of all events was being logged and that the LLS was also serving as an events record back-up for what was going on with the ship. Find out what's been happening to LIBERTY 95.” He then turned to the DiNyro twins and Sanchez. “Spot your Personal Communications Packs and hand-held TAF Weapons, and make sure Martinez will never be in reach of them.” They nodded to confirm they understood his orders. “Okay, then. Let’s go. Julie, you drive.”

            Within seconds, LLS Alpha backed from the open LLS Bay Doors and Carr finally got a look at the cosmetic damage that had been done to his ship in this, is first time away from it in months. It was nothing that could not be repaired with minimal effort in a real Spaceport, but that could be some time down the road, given known conditions of the financial woes of Liberty Enterprises.

            * * *

Trucowl Flagship Te-SAL-Dar-ADLAMUR at Phi Sag Star System, 235 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

 

           The Trucowl Flagship had closed within a minute of the Liberty Enterprises ship and was still not receiving a response to transmissions, which was not necessarily unexpected as the two different communications systems were not known to be compatible at Superoptic speeds, especially since the time matrix on each ship was completely different at Superoptic speeds and the frequency predicted to be the one usable for the human ship would use was hard for the Trucowls to predict. Victor Martin had been surprised, if not overjoyed that the Trucowls were so clumsy in their understanding of Earth-based technologies.

            Bu’Tan and Martin had expressed equal surprise that the commander of the Liberty Enterprise ship was undoubtedly heading for the Phi Sag star system. Apparently, there was no record of Liberty Enterprises ever going here – for a good reason. There were no inhabitable planets in the star system, and the one planet known was a dangerously unpredictable gas giant twice the diameter of Jupiter. It was considered so unstable because of its badly misshaped form, requiring an adaptable precision orbit to avoid being drawn into the planet. The sphere had been twisted into the shape of a bulging oval, with the side closest to the huge blue star ripped into a teardrop streaming a particle tornado, as the sun drew a stream of ionized gas and particles from the surface of the planet across space, and into the death throes of a star that was much larger, brighter, and at 32,000 degrees Fahrenheit much hotter than Earth’s sun. Like Uranus in Earth’s star system, one pole was pointed towards the sun, and the south pole of Phi Sag 1 was the one constantly streaming particles across space.  With one side always facing the star, a constant supersonic violent weather system covered the equator where the warm hemisphere met the cold northern hemisphere that never faced the star. The entire equator had the violence of the famous Red Spot that had appeared on Jupiter for years, but in this case the spot was not only so large it covered the entire equatorial region. Violent sub-spots collided with each other, joined each other, and both amplified and destroyed each other.

            “It reminds me of the Algol star system,” said Martin. “In that star system, there are two center stars, streaming matter from one star to the other – but here the so-called companion is obviously somewhere between being a dwarf star and a gas giant.”

            “Other than knowing that Algol is catalogued as an interesting Trinary, I have no frame of reference to relate to your comparison as Trucowls have never been there,” said the Admiral Alxaquiem. “But I can confirm that your Liberty Enterprises ship has slowed from over seven million times the speed of light to under a million and we are finding it easy to keep pace with their deceleration.”

           “They are slowing to ISM One,” said Kogure. “I would expect that ship to drop to Suboptic speeds as soon as it nears its destination. It does appear to be well on its way to Phi Sag 1.”

           “Agreed,” said Alxaquiem as she listened to her advisors on the outer stations. “The ship is now Suboptic with the TRS Engines disconnected and the power plant into a disconnected, inactive and passive status. They are at a quarter the speed of light on a heading that will carry it to a place not necessarily at the planet or star, but close to both. I will now instruct my crew to close in on that ship at Suboptic speeds and prepare to rendezvous.” Within seconds, the Semitiers had stopped and only a few hundred feet away from the huge Trucowl vessel was the human ship. “They are now using their reaction rockets to further slow,” noted Alxaquiem. “We are keeping pace. Their weapons systems are not even capacitated – we appear to be safe for now from enemy fire - and that ship is thus safe for the moment from destruction by our weapons.”

           “Or misguided friendly-fire,” Victor Martin corrected the Trucowl, to set the record straight mainly for the benefit of Lisa Stewart.

           “We continue to keep pace with their deceleration,” said Alxaquiem. “I am now instructing my crew to illuminate that ship with our external lighting in your optical bands for a better view so that you can see what I see.”

           The dark silhouette was suddenly replaced by the view of the projector sphere of an illuminated ship, and Bu’Tan was the first to see the clearly displayed markings on the Engineering Wings which were streaming two bright pillars of thrust ahead of them as the ship slowed in its approach to Phi Sag 1. “My God! It’s LIBERTY 95!”

           “Look at her!” said Victor Martin. “Our newest, fastest ship – it’s been badly wrecked.”

           “Cosmetic damage, mostly,” noted Alxaquiem.

           “Admiral Alxaquiem, prepare to take that ship in tow and embark it once its LSE Pods disconnect.”

           “Ambassador Kogure, the rules are the same in Liberty Enterprises as they are here. In a word, no. You may be in charge of the mission, but I’m still in charge of this ship.”

           “What is the specific problem?” asked Kogure.

           “There is an … issue aboard that ship, but no serious radiation issues – yet. Even now, automated robots are repairing damaged areas both inside and outside the ship. Unfortunately, there are serious problems with the engineering plant – I am frankly surprised the ship has not exploded. It has had an imbalance in the antimatter production facilities for some time and the overflow storage magnetic tubes are nearly full of compressed and dangerously over-pressurized and condensed hydrogen anti-atoms. If that production plant is restarted for interstellar use … I believe you call it the CAR Processor … the chances that the safety systems will be overwhelmed due to an antimatter overflow are high. The ship would produce a detonation the size of a miniature supernova, with radiations in every band streaming outward at the speed of light. It is so dangerous, in fact, that it would even be unwise to fire on it at this point in the Suboptic Universe – even from maximum range of our weapons.”

           “That’s too bad,” said Kogure. “We’re in an interstellar war and those TAF Weapons might make all the difference in the galaxy.”

           “That is clearly out of the question,” said Alxaquiem. “That ship is not going anywhere without facing its total destruction. I’m sorry. My decision is final. I for one am an ambitious Trucowl, and a frivolously adventuresome one – for a Trucowl. But I am not a foolish Trucowl. I refuse to tow or embark a ship so close to an antimatter breach. In fact, I feel uncomfortable being so close to it now, I must admit - with all due respect.”

           “Fair enough,” said Kogure. “But before we leave, scan for life signs – we still need to get their crew off.”

           “Scanning,” she said after issuing orders to her crew. Within a few seconds she turned to Kogure. “But for agriculture platforms growing plants in the hydroponics sections of the wings, farming the growth of nourishing foods from Earth and elsewhere … and the normal background levels of bacteria and other natural germs, we are detecting no life aboard that ship.”

           “So it came here on an automated Navigational Script,” said Kogure. “We were talking to someone – someone who fired on this ship. There has to be someone aboard.”

           “Scan the LLS Bay,” suggested Debbie Hernandez-Martin. “They went behind the planet, remember? Maybe they pulled a fast one on us.”

           “The what?” asked Alxaquiem.

           “Admiral,” said Victor Martin, “please give us a sensor read-out of the cavernous vehicle storage assembly at the trailing end of LIBERTY 95.”

           “There are two equally sized vehicles there, each a hundred of your feet long. One is along the centerline and one on what you call … the port side. There is an empty storage slab on the starboard side, and room for another vehicle, if twisted sideways ahead of the three main storage pads.”

           “So, that guy slipped out on LLS Charlie,” concluded Victor Martin. “And when LIBERTY 95 slipped behind Roata 2, LLS Charlie slipped off the ship along with the guy who fired on this ship.”

           “It would appear so,” said Kogure. “His plan to send this ship here was intentional – somewhere he could hide a hidden treasure and be confident no one would stumble across it before he could get here. He obviously did not have a clue what he was doing if the condition of the engineering section was allowed to get so far out of balance. Admiral Alxaquiem, based on your projections of the guidance and reverse thrust of that vehicle, what kind of orbit will the ship be in when it stops?”

           “It will actually be in no orbit at all,” said the Trucowl. “It is headed towards a complete stop in stable gravitational equilibrium where without thrust or orbital mechanics, it will be in a stable parking spot far from the star and planet, but trapped by the gravity of both.”

           “A modified Lagrange Orbit,” suggested Debbie Hernandez-Martinez.

           “Well,” asked Lisa Stewart. “What do we do now?”

           “Let’s just leave it here,” suggested Victor Martin. “No one will bother it here, and if they do they’ll never live to talk about it. We’ve been duped – we thought this was LIBERTY 72, and obviously, it’s not. Whatever happened with LIBERTY 95, we’ll just have to solve that mystery later. For now, let’s get back to Roata 2 to find the real LIBERTY 72.”

            “Good advice,” said Stewart. “Ready when you are. Hopefully the demonstration of competence by Liberty Enterprises will significantly improve.” There was no answer, for privately, everyone with the North American President had been thinking the same thing.

 

* * *

Roata 2, at 540 Light Years from Earth in the direction of the Galactic Core

            In only one orbit LLS Alpha had entered the atmosphere, reduced its speed by energy management, caused sonic booms throughout the city below to announce its arrival, and made its approach to the city only to be told that they could not land within city limits, for the price of doing so was beyond the amount of currency in any form that the occupants of the Large Landing Shuttle had carried with them. So, following the suggestion of Martinez, the vehicle came down in a harbor inlet from the main ocean where parking would be free, where and harassment was still likely, requiring EFFB and TAF Weapons capabilities as needed. There would have to be a constant watch from someone at the Flight Station for signs of trouble from approaching surface, air, and subsurface vessels at all times. Such a vehicle would be a valuable prize for sale on the black market here, and it was Carr’s intention that it never be allowed to happen.

             The gear was lowered and the Vapor Thrusters fired, lowering the hovering LLS gently down upon the water. Once floating on the surface, gently rocking in the waves of the harbor, the landing gear was retracted.

            “Okay, we’re here,” said Carr as he studied a map of the city produced from images recorded during the overflight of the city. “Now what?”

            “Why didn’t you bring gratuity? Don’t you know anything about this place? If you would have brought a few hundred thousand Spenderos with you, you could get almost anything done on this planet, including permission to land this Large Landing Shuttle at my doorstep.”

            “We thought that buying a taxi exemption would be enough, and if not, it would probably be unwise to leave such a tempting target of vandalism and larceny at your doorstep,” said Carr.

            “There you go thinking again,” said Martinez. “Do I have to do all the real thinking for you?”

            “Antonio,” said Carr, “we need a Plan B, mister Plan B.”

            “Mind if I use a lifeline – I’m calling a friend.” With that, with his twin sister manning the Flight Station, he accessed the communications console in the nose section of the LLS. “LIBERTY 72, this is LLS Alpha. Come in.”

            “Monique here, Antonio. We were about to call you.”

            “What’s up?”

            “An advanced scout team of the aquatic aliens Fioha told you about has already arrived before we got here. So far there seem to be only a dozen or ships, and in our transfer orbit to geosynchronous we picked up about a dozen of them – all underwater, and one ship is uncomfortably close to you. And we already know a lot more are headed this way – a lot more. Ask Captain Carr what we should do – should we break geosynchronous orbit and go in for a lower one so we can keep an eye on them?”

            “No, of course not,” answered Carr. “Monique, launch a series of Class B Survey Drones to circle over the known location of the alien ships. We need you to cover us from just where you are.”

            “Understood,” said Rivers. “How can we help you?”

            “Our sensors are picking up a force field fence along the coast-line between here and the city.”

            “We see it, Captain. Why did you park out there in the harbor?”

            “Because we’re cheap,” said Carr. “Do you detect any holes in the fence we can get through?”

            “Nothing the LLS could cross unless it flew over the defense system.”

            “How about swimmers, Monique?”

            “Swimmers? You’ve got to be kidding me, Captain.”

            “The water seems rather warm. We don’t mind a midmorning swim. And with no moon here, the currents and tides should be virtually nonexistent.”

            “Okay, Captain,” said Rivers. “There is one place where you can get in – and if I’m wrong the electricity will kill you all.”

            “I know where it is,” said Martinez. “I’ll get them in safely.”

            “I wouldn’t trust him, Captain,” said Rivers.

            “I don’t,” said Carr. “That’s why he’s going with us. If we die, he dies with us.”

            “It’s a few miles of swimming,” said Rivers. “You’ll have to go out of the harbor heading south, follow the coast to the western part of the town headed west, and the hole in the security fence is marked by a section of beach pretty far from any buildings. There are four palm trees near a rock. The rock appears to be a crashed meteorite that must have landed here within the last few days. It caused a disruption in the security fence - but it is no rock at all.”

            “Good enough,” said Carr. “I see that on our maps, too.”

            “Captain,” said Rivers, “we’ve scanned that meteorite – it’s not exactly a rock from space. It’s a badly scorched vessel that had a reentry malfunction – the same kind of vessel that’s now in the oceans.”

            “What would it look like to the humans living here? A vessel, or a rock?”

            “A rock, Captain,” said Rivers. “It is not generating any heat or radiation. It didn’t land with a lot of speed – just with a lot of damage.”

            “Good,” said Carr. “Continue to scan that object – we need to determine what its temperature and pressure vulnerabilities are – you can determine that by studying its current condition.”

            “Agreed,” said Rivers. “We can learn a lot about what it takes to defeat them when the time comes. Thank you, Monique. Signing off.”

            Carr then turned to Martinez. “Okay, let’s have it.”

            “Okay we'll have to sneak in while it's still daylight. This town sleeps in the day, except for people who come to hotspots like my nightclub. It's about eight in the morning now – we should be there by noon.”

           “Keep going, Martinez.” Carr urged.

           “We'll have to swim about three miles around downtown, the fine collection of tall buildings on the peninsula, and come up the southern banks about a mile west of downtown - just like the lady told you. There hasn’t been electricity to the perimeter fence there for a few days, and the guards in that ward are my home boys. We should have no problems.”

           “With you,” said Carr, “everything is going to be a problem. We’ll have to leave unobserved. We have plenty of water exploration suits aboard, and we won’t even get our clothes wet. We’ll be able to make the whole trip there underwater and in limited contact with each other.”

           “We’re surrounded by very curious local craft,” said Carlos Martinez. “How do you propose we get into the water unobserved?”

           “You didn’t study the LLS you stole very well, did you?” asked Antonio DiNyro. “These things all have a water-entry airlock at the bottom. We’ll have no problem just quietly slipping out the basement.”

           “Sorry, Antonio,” said Carr, “but you and Antonia are staying. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to contact you or LIBERTY 72 until we get into the city. If you don’t hear from us by sunrise tomorrow, get off this planet and tell Monique to put on her war paint. The current plan is for you to fly in over the fence, all defenses and weapons at the ready, to extricate us when we’re ready to leave.  If you don’t hear from us by sunrise, leave without us. That’s an order.”

           “How could you threaten to go to war against my city like that?” asked Martinez.

           “I’m not. I’m threatening to go to war against an alien species already in your oceans who will be going to war with your city.”

* * *

           Close to reaching their final destination as they skirted the coast unobserved by humans, they ran into the most bizarre sea creature imaginable. It was a beautiful sight by its colors, ranging from blue to brown to pink to vibrant green, of a shape not unlike a mix of a Florida lizard and a manatee, with fins that appeared capable of doubling as flat but effective feet. It appeared to be about six feet long in its main body, twelve counting its long very flexible tail. It had an enormous head compared to the skulls of whales or dolphins, but it appeared to be reptilian as much as fish.

           “I’ve seen that before,” said Perkins as they communicated by radio from between their sealed headsets as they swam under the surface.

           “What?” asked Carr. “It has to be an Astenfaji.”

           “A what?” asked Perkins.

           “The intelligent aquatic species that is about to level this planet – and Earth if we don’t stop them.”

           “It appears to be scanning us,” said Perkins as she likewise used her waterproof computer to scan the creature. “and thankfully, it appears to be alone.”

           “I’ve seen that pitchfork before.”

           “Where?” asked Carr.

           “Are you blind?” asked Perkins. “In its right front flipper – you know, the aqua-blue weapon with all the local fish impaled upon its forks?”

           “Not that,” said Carr. “Where have you seen it before?”

           “Downtown Kansas City – it’s from a 718-year old 4-ton statue cast from pure lead – from a statue of Neptune. The pitchfork is nearly identical.”

           “How do you know so much about that statue, Julie?” asked Carr.

           “It was the feature of one of my songs,” Perkins revealed, “when I talked about the insanity of all of the residents of Earth going to prison for possessing the so-called lead toxin when in the backdrop this statue was poisoning all of North America if the environmental police were right about anything - which they weren't. I was writing about the hypocrisy of it all. You mean you never heard my song called Hook Line and Sucker?”

           “Well,” admitted Carr, “it sounds familiar. You have to remember that everything that made it to a hundred years old on Earth is destined for eternal protection under North America's Historic Preservation Act – no matter what it’s made from. But we have bigger fish to fry - in a manner of speaking. Here we are, face to face with the Astenfaji at last - a real one.”

           “And we’ve lost our face-to-face with Martinez,” Perkins noted. “Where is he?”

           “You’re the one with the computer with a scanner – you tell me.”

           “He’s running away – swimming away, I mean. He's close to a getaway, headed straight for that destination to get into the city.”

           “I can catch him, but I can’t leave you alone with this Astenfaji thing,” said Carr as he pulled out his hand-held TAF Weapon. Aiming it at the alien visitor was not enough, but firing it once to intentionally miss the creature succeeded in scaring it away. The long tail fluttered as the whole body smoothly wiggled with hydrodynamic precision, carrying the alien being quickly away. The movement of the tail had been so quick and effective that the creature was quickly out of sight, creating underwater pressure waves so powerful that they could be felt by the humans through their suits.

           “It’s gone,” said Perkins. “It’s headed to the underwater ship which appears to be about a dozen miles off the coast. We’re fine. You go ahead and catch Martinez – I’ll catch up with you as quickly as I can.”

* * *

           With the artificial composite bones and strengthened ligaments powered by an amplification booster made possible by 27^th Century technologies, Carr quickly caught up to Martinez, and within a few minutes Perkins joined them as together, as one, they came ashore in the correct spot. The badly incinerated Astenfaji ship had been melted so severely that indeed it looked like an iron-based meteorite from space. But the metal was completely foreign to Carr, made of a composite alloy that was unrecognizable to human science.

* * *

           Once out of the water they left the aquatic suits behind in a crevice near the doomed Astenfaji wreck, and they then proceeded into the city with Martinez leading the way, always within sight of Carr and his TAF Weapon, should it be needed.

           “It's so quiet here that I can hear the sand crunch under my feet,” said Perkins. This has to be the deadest town I've ever visited.”

           “Just wait a few hours,” said Martinez. “You'll change your mind.”

           “Exactly how far are we from your fine establishment, Mister Martinez? I'm going to get sunburn if I stay in this sun much longer.”

            “Not my problem, bleachwheat,” sneered Martinez. “We’re almost there, Carr. I think you’re really going to enjoy my hospitality. I can see a wild side in you that you've been hiding on that ship. Are you married?”

            Carr’s memory caused him to unload on a stranger. “No, I probably should have been. The love of my life died on Otaw 3, right before my eyes.”

           “Janay O’Hara is happy where she is now, Captain Carr, sir,” said Perkins. “It’s past time for you to move on, Captain. Janay was a good friend to all of us, but someday you'll just have to admit that she's not going to come back for you.”

            “Opportunities to date are a little rare when one happens to be the Commanding Officer of a traveling world that can’t seem to make its way back to Earth,” said Carr.

           “Ah, come on!” said Perkins. “Victor Martin was married to one of his crewmembers! The company didn't have a problem with that! You're the big dog! That's a major hook-up!”

           “I’m too old fashioned,” said Carr. “I don’t date the hired help.”

           “Come on!” said Perkins. “Monique Rivers has been swooning all over you since she came on board! Some of us think she accepted an assignment to Liberty Enterprises just because she had you in her sights.”

           “If you must know,” said Carr, “I have steered her away – she would be better with Antonio DiNyro.”

           “They’ve been seeing each other,” said Perkins, “but I didn’t tell you that.”

           “You didn’t have to,” said Carr as Martinez led them to a large one-story building with a flat roof, surrounded by the yards that were common in this city at lower elevations, made of concrete and sand and a few local and imported Earth desert plants capable of surviving with little rain. “I think they’re great for each other.” Carr and Perkins stopped behind Martinez as he opened the door to the sound of quiet music and the sight of many beautiful women sitting at booths close to associated tables. There were men with several women, but not near the one that immediately caught Carr’s interest. “Don’t get me wrong,” said Carr, “but Monique Rivers is a very attractive young woman … but …”

           “But what, Captain?” asked Perkins.

           “… but nothing like that!” He could not help but feel an immediate attraction for a woman in a gorgeous sun dress, who was oriented sideways from Carr’s point of view, as he admired the woman always the one in his deepest imagination to be the one he had always dreamed he would someday meet.

           “Her?” asked Martinez. “She's one of my newest hires. She's been here for less than a week. Perhaps you would be more interested in one of our more comfortable, experienced independent contractors.”

            Carr peered to the left, and to the right. “Perhaps. But probably not. What’s her name?”

            “Sandy Ferraro – or something like that. You can talk to her if you'd like, but unless you have enough money to get her off the planet and past me, she won’t talk to you for long.”

           “What’s her problem?”

           “She’s a squirrel – totally off her rocker. May I please introduce you to my Assistant Manger, Javier.”

           “Yo,” said Javier.

           “What’s up with her?” asked Carr in reference to his woman of interest.

           “I’ll let you scrape the pearls once on my Spendero,” said Martinez, “but after that, it will cost you.”

           “All except for that one,” said Javier as he pointed to the one woman in the room who had attracted Carr’s interest.

           “Why not her?” asked Carr.

           “Because she’s damaged goods,” said Javier. “It’s for your own safety. We need to fix her or put her down. Everyone who gets near her gets bounced to the Emergency Room. It would be better if you would try to date a rabid grizzly bear. Boss – she’s bad for business – get her out of here. Do something – anything with her. I'm begging you. We're not breaking even with all of the Emergency Room visits and some of the girls are talking about leaving us unless she goes.”

           “What seems to be her problem, besides being a little nuts?” asked Carr.

           “Oh,” said Javier, “I’ve been waiting for Carlos to get back so that maybe he could tell me. He brought her here. All I can tell you is that she just sits there, staring blindly into space, with some wild nutcase story about waiting for her spaceship to rescue her. She calls herself The Commander.

           “As I was just telling Ranger Perkins,” said Carr, “I’ve always found the psycho ones the most fun.” Perkins responded by putting her elbow into Carr’s chest. He then whispered into Perkins’ ear. “She looks familiar – I think I know who she is. Just play along with me – I know what I’m doing – I hope.”

            Perkins nodded. “You hope. Okay then, Captain Carr, sir. You go talk to The Commander. In the meantime, I'm going to order a drink, if you don't mind. Oh, that's right. I don't have any money. What was I thinking?”

           “Javier!” ordered Carlos Martinez, “Free drinks and food for my special guests!”

           The music was quite entertaining as Carr and Perkins received their drinks, taking them to separate parts of the room. Perkins sat alone at a booth, sipping her drink and watching Carr as he slowly, and with great caution, successfully managed to sit in the same booth with the woman, facing her face directly. Yet she didn’t return the gesture of looking into his eyes.

           “Hello.” She continued to ignore him as she looked down into her glass, hoping perhaps to find some sign of a future presented in the swirling liquid stirred into a funnel by her rapid twisting of her stirrer embedded into the contents of the glass. “My name is Joe Carr – Captain Joseph Carr.”

           “I’ve heard that name somewhere before,” she said as she briefly looked into his eyes. “From Liberty Enterprises?”

           “Yes,” he said. “I’m glad you’ve heard of them. You are The Commander?” She nodded. “I’m also The Commander - of LIBERTY 72.” She then returned her eyes to the contents of her drink as Carr reached to her chin to lift it so that once again, they would be looking into each other’s eyes. With incredible strength and swiftness, she grabbed Carr’s arm and tried to twist it. She was somewhere between shock and disappointment when his arm not only failed to break, but it fought back against her strength successfully. She had never met anyone else like her, who had gone through the type of surgery to replace bones and to amplify limb strength. Finally, after the stalemate of the struggle, they ended in a draw, and both let go of their efforts.

           “You've been through the surgery too. Your arm should have snapped – like the others did when people tried to touch me.”

           “Yes. I crashed a test plane five years ago straight down a Kauai mountainside.”

           “That doesn’t give you a license to touch me.”

           “I just wanted to get your attention,” said Carr. “I’m a little jealous of that drink.”

           “You should be jealous. You can’t compete with sizzurp. It takes me away from here. You can’t.”

           “Not only can I take you out of here,” said Carr, “but I will. You don’t belong here with this bar trash.”

           “I’m worse than bar trash,” she said. “I'm responsible for genocide.”

           “That’s a mighty claim - even for someone who has reportedly sent so many men to the hospital this week. I do not intend to be the next. Would you like to tell me what happened? Please?”

           She paused for several moments, obviously in pain every time she tried to bring her mind to recollect the past. “I can’t remember.”

           “Can’t, or won’t?”

           “I’m fine here, me and my sizzurp. Please go away now. These drinks make me numb to my sins, and to my pain my sins cause me. I don't really care what else happens to me. I deserve this fate. It's worse than death. I should have died in the desert ...”

           “I am getting us out of here. You will be in a safer place. This planet is about to be destroyed, and I need your help in fighting the enemies which are soon to do the same thing to Earth.”

           “I deserve death after what I’ve done.” With an eerie smile, she finally stared into Carr’s eyes. “I’d rather die here. Leave with you? It’s not gonna’ happen, sugar. Look - you're really cute, but let me tell you something. I already have a boyfriend, honey. If you don't believe me, just ask the man who saved my life and brought me here I saw you bring him in here with you. There he is – right over there.”

            “He’s a nobody. What has he done for you?”

           “He saved my life. He hasn't touched me yet, but has already made it clear that I am essentially a slave to him for the rest of my miserable life. He intends to collect on the debt I owe him for saving my life.”

           “Okay, so we know his name, Carlos Martinez. We know my name, Captain Joseph Carr. Something’s missing in this conversation. What’s your name?”

           She smiled sarcastically. “You're really slow, aren't you? Why even bother to ask? I've already told you, you're not going anywhere with me.”

           Carr didn’t realize how well the drinks were already working on him, and so he answered with great candor. “On the contrary, I'm not going anywhere without you I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met.”

           “Keep it real – look around a little. There are lots of girls sitting all by themselves just waiting for you to dazzle them with your charisma. I'm not capable of being interested, honey – not even if I wanted to. Look at all those other girls around here who are more your speed.”

           “Before I leave you for the easy fish – to use the local vocabulary – why won't you tell me your name?”

           She stirred the drink more and more quickly, then drew the stirrer out, and then quickly slammed her hand not only onto the table, but through it. She looked with shock for a few seconds at what she had done, and then she noticed the drinks had spilled and Carr was making no more an effort than she was to dodge the liquid pouring over the edge of what was left of the table. “I won’t tell you because I can’t!” she said, breaking down into tears. “I can't remember my name! Or, a lot of things...”

           “So why do you think you’re responsible for genocide?” Carr asked. “Look, I really do need to get off this planet. I'm willing to help make that possible for you. It will be a lot easier if you don't fight me.”

           “You can’t!” she said as she sobbed, then pointing a thumb towards Martinez. “He'll kill you for just making a joke like that.”

            “Martinez? That puny punk and the rest of this planet will be gone by this time tomorrow. Were you brought here alone? Do you have any co-workers you've known for a while you'd like to bring with you?”

            “They’re all dead,” she said. “It’s just me – and I should have died with them.”

            “Are you sure you can't remember your name? Martinez said it was Sandy or something like that.”

            “Yes... that's it. Sandy... no... it's Cindy. Cindy... Cynthia Esperanza... Cynthia Esperanza Fe … Ferraro …. I'm sorry. I just can't remember.”

            “I'll just call you Cindy Hope.”

            “There is no hope for me,” said Ferrando.

           “There is always hope for you,” said Carr. “It’s your middle name.” She broke the beginning of a smile. “I know who you are, but I’m not sure if it’s safe right now for you to know or not. Excuse me.”

            She grabbed his wrists as he stood. “Where are you going? I've changed my mind. You don't have to leave me now.”

            “I’ll be right back. Just need to talk to Martinez and then my friend for a second.”

            “Okay.” She then turned to Javier. “More drinks, please!”

            Carr first went to Martinez. “Carlos, a back room, please – for Ranger Perkins and The Commander - and me.”

            “You wanna’ cut both pearls, applehead? It’s up to you, but you’ll owe me for double the price. When my generosity ends, you had better wire some Spenderos down or you're going to find yourself a valuable hostage.”

            Carr then signaled for Perkins to pull out her TAF Weapon, and she did. Carr then gave Martinez his, always having Martinez under the range of another. “That’s more than double the price. Now, you owe me.”

            “Agreed,” said Martinez as he smiled. Carr then went to the side of Perkins in her booth as he snuggled closely next to her.

           “Hello, Julie. How is everything?”

           “Just great! Do you know I’ve just realized how many Spenderos I can make by improving the music in this place? Admittedly, if they don't have karaoke night tonight, they never will. Four of my songs are in their jukebox. This place has more class than I thought. So how’s your date going, Captain Casanova, sir?”

           “We're going backstage soon - for a jailbreak. Julie, did you see the name of this place?”

            “Let me guess. We’re renting a room at the Hotel California?”

            Carr frowned. “I mean it, Julie. Can you pull up the map of this city on your computer? We need to autoping our location from LIBERTY 72's sensors, and then get some reference on getting LLS Alpha here – or better yet somewhere closer to the ridge was saw by the harbor so that LLS Alpha can jump the defense wall after dark to get us out. We’re breaking out tonight – and we’re bringing her with us.”

            “Sounds about as fun as capturing a rabid raccoon. Are you sure we can handle her?”

            “If that were an ordinary bar girl, my friend, I’d agree she might be too much trouble than she's worth. That’s Captain Cynthia Ferrando of LIBERTY 95. The LLS that we found is from her ship!”

            “No way! What on Roata 2 is she doing here? Has Victor Martin sent her onto some sort of an undercover mission?”

            “No - something terrible happened to her ship, or she wouldn't even be here. I don’t know what. I seriously doubt LIBERTY 95 is anywhere around here - we would have pinged their beacon. And we know she couldn't have arrived on an LLS without a Superoptic mothership. She has answers we need, but she's really in a lot of pain. Someone shot holes in her spirit, then spit in them. It's too dangerous to push for answers here. She's right on the edge of a complete mental breakdown, and with her strength, that could really be a dangerous thing. She’s rebuilt after a disaster, just like I was. Best I can hope for if she fights us is a draw, and I don't want you involved - you'd get hurt, martial arts master or not.”

           “Oh, boy. I remember now. She was that First Shift Pilot who heroically saved everyone on LIBERTY 81's maiden voyage, only to have her skin and limbs burned off. She's quite a looker now. What if she won’t go with us?”

           “We’ll just have to keep her calm – and try not to remind her of whatever it is that has her so rattled.”

           “When do you want to spring her? Tonight, you say?”

           “This is one city without a tomorrow. But we’ll have to wait until sundown. When this dead city comes to life, we can use the buzz as our big distraction. We’re about ready to sleep, you, me and her in a back room.”

           “A threesome?”

           “On Roata 2 everything goes, right?”

           “Give the women some respect, Captain Joe. At least wine and dine us first. Okay, what do you really have in mind?”

           “We’ll lock or block the door, and blow out a window or wall with your TAF Weapon. Then, we’ll tell Antonio where and when to meet us, and then we'll be off the planet.”

           “But you gave Martinez a TAF Weapon. That could be trouble.”

           “I’m counting on the fact you actually know how to use yours.”

           “Thanks – I think.”

           “A few more drinks, my dear Julie, and then we’ll go grab some sleep until sundown.”

           “But Captain Joe … sir. Is it really wise to leave someone like Martinez with something as powerful as one of our top-of-the-line hand-held TAF Weapons? By the end of the week once he figures out how to use it, he could own this whole town.”

           “You’re forgetting something,” said Carr. “By tomorrow, there will be no town to own, and it won’t matter what he does with it. I am not so happy that the only answers I have so far is that LIBERTY 95 is gone, and the crew is dead - except for her. Based on everything she is trying to tell me, her crew long gone, and she feels personally responsible for it.”

           They each had one more round, and feeling very weary from the spiced drinks, they moved into their bedroom adjacent to the main room, with two double-beds. Very quickly they made it onto the beds before falling fast asleep. Martinez allowed them to keep one of the communications devices and computers, if only because he did not know where to look for them, but he did capture the most important hidden treasure from the guests - a fully charged, fully functional TAF Weapon. Now, for a while, he would allow them to sleep.

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