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Authors: William Lee Gordon

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The Haunting

 

 

Aboard
the Roosevelt

 

"I swear;
it was real!" Argentine said to the chief.

 

It was the next evening and he and the chief were both in
the Captain's suite.

 

It'd been a long day.

 

Argentine had made the decision to house all of his people
in the officer’s quarters that lined Broadway (that was apparently the name of
the super-wide corridor that extended back from the bridge).

 

They had discovered three kitchens that were close enough to
service the team…

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

"Really? Where?"

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

"How do you mean?"

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

"What's this about?"

 

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

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

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

 

"This ship is haunted!" Marco said flatly.

 

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

 

"Explain what you mean."

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

"Did you see it too?"

 

"See
him
. It was a man."

 

"So you did see it… Him?"

 

Nicu nodded vigorously.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

"You mean translucent?"

 

"Yeah, he was translucent."

 

"What did he say?" Argentine asked.

 

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

 

"Okay, then what did he do?"

 

"He stood there, looking us all over."

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

An Observation

 

 

Aboard
the Roosevelt

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

Time Keeps On
Slipping...

 

 

Earth
2349 A.D.

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

Back then, the Admiral had ordered Major Jacoby to
discreetly but thoroughly search the scientific community for
any
type
of research into this new area of physics.

 

For the hundredth time, he reread the original message found
lased inside the three thousand year old crystal…

 

Directed To: Admiral Federico
Sanchez, Terran League Space Navy (or his predecessors or successors)

 

We are pleased to report that
the T.L.S. Roosevelt has successfully completed her first temporal jump.

 

Our biggest challenge so far has
been figuring out how to conceal a message to the future.

 

Our first jump was only a few
thousand years which I think is a result of our nervousness with the new
technology. Obviously, this does not take us back far enough along the
space-time stream to aid our mission. Initially, I was in a great hurry to
correct this and jump again when I realized that spending a little time in this
era will in no way 'slow us down' in the pursuit of our mission objective.

 

You warned me that I could tie
myself up in mental knots trying to think this stuff through – and I almost did
it anyway.

 

At the end of this report please
find a synopsis of our discrete observations of what life was like at this
point in Earth's history. I think our historians had gotten most of it right,
but there are a few major surprises.

 

Our engineers have an idea of
how to disguise this message well enough that it should survive and find you in
the future. Once we have accomplished that task, we will be taking a much
deeper dive into the past.

 

We have taken to heart the
prohibitions on not disclosing our mission or technology to anyone we
encounter. Having said that, one unanticipated lack of discretion that I would
like to take full responsibility for is, I hope, an inconsequential offense.

 

We have visited a number of
different locations on earth during this time period.. We severely restricted
any involvement with the locals and any impressions they have of us would have
been captured by observation, not interaction.

 

Having said that, we belatedly
realized that many of them were starting to emulate us. They seem particularly
taken with our interface circlets.

 

This imitation seems to be
restricted to the leaders of the various groups, clans, tribes, or societies
that we encountered.

 

Our historians assure me that
our own earth histories do not include tiaras or circlets used to designate
royalty. Hopefully, we haven't altered the timeline by creating a new
tradition. I might suggest that you research your own earth histories on the
off chance that you might find some fleeting mention of this practice.

 

Rest assured, the captain and
crew of the Roosevelt hold serving mankind as our highest purpose.

 

Captain Jaime Rodriguez, T.L.S.
Roosevelt

 

The admiral laid the report back down on the table.

 

He vividly remembered his reaction the first time he’d read
it:
He knew damn well there wasn’t a T.L.S. Roosevelt in the Terran Fleet,
and W
ho was this Captain Jaime Ramires?

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