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Authors: William Lee Gordon

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BOOK: Running With Argentine
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Sacrifice

 

 

In
Asperian Space

 

"Okay
Frank, let me explain one last time why you can't do this…"

 

The chief was obviously saying something he felt that he had
to say.

 

"When those ships and stations start to degrade,
eventually something critical deteriorates… And then, boom! And that explosion
is sending debris in all directions at incredible speed.

 

"I don't know how this damn thing is being spread, but
I'm assuming it takes some kind of contact… And that's the only thing I can
think of that would explain some of those other ships getting contaminated.

 

"Maybe our shields protected us or, hell, maybe the
Roosevelt's already contaminated for all I know… But you heading back in-system
is suicide!"

 

"Well, if it's any consolation chief, we know our
shields aren't powerful enough to protect us forever because our level of
technology doesn't seem to survive extinction events."

 

"Very funny, Frank. That doesn't change the fact that
this is a stupid idea."

 

"You're not afraid are you, Chief?" he teased.

 

The chief's eyes got wide and he muttered something as
Argentine turned his back and walked towards the Pelican.

 

They'd spent a precious twelve minutes prepping and loading
one of the Roosevelt's strange two-person space flitters into the Pelican’s
pressurized cargo bay.

 

With the chief at the Pelican's controls it only took a
couple of minutes more to launch.

 

"You've calculated where her shuttle will run out of
power and she starts coasting?" Argentine asked.

 

"
Guessed
is more like it."

 

"Well, that's a long ways back…"

 

The chief just gave him a sardonic look.

 

Finally, he said, "You know if our theories right, her
shuttle’s infected?"

 

"
Our
theory? I thought it was
your
theory."

 

"It's as good a theory as we've got, and you know
it," the chief insisted. "Even if you can make rendezvous with her,
how are we supposed to let you back aboard the ship?

 

"You really need to rethink this."

 

"Believe it or not, I have thought it through. But
Chief, listen to me… You're second-in-command. You do what you feel you have to
do. Understand?"

 

"Damn you Argentine," he muttered under his
breath.

 

The chief helped him don his suit and then said, "Okay,
this is about as far as I can go if I want the Pelican's shuttle to be able to
get me back to the Roosevelt."

 

Argentine stuck out his hand, "Good luck, Chief."

 

He nodded once, and then proceeded to the Shuttle Bay.

 

Once the chief was well on his way back to the Roosevelt,
Argentine confirmed they were still on an intercept course to Mandi.

 

Ready or not, Mandi. Here I come
, he thought to
himself.

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

Mandi was
surrounded by absolute beauty.

 

She wasn't entirely sure, but she couldn’t remember another
time when her surroundings had been so beautiful, so quiet, and… So lonely.

 

She was setting in the pilot's seat looking out of the front
windows (yes, in this small a craft they were real windows). She'd run out of
fuel a few moments before… So there wasn't even the sound of the engines to
keep her company.

 

It was times like this when a woman could get real
reflective, she realized.

 

It's not like she had major regrets… She was more or less
proud of what she'd managed to accomplish, and it's not like she had much of a
choice about her career path.

 

But still, it's natural for a person to wonder
, she
rationalized.

 

She knew she'd played the game well. She'd played the cards
that had been dealt her and bluffed, called, and raised the stakes insanely
high when she'd needed to.

 

It was certainly a good thing that her family had no history
of stress related heart problems…

 

Her animus towards the Asperian military had been earned
honestly. Well, most of it anyway.

 

It had started back in her father's days with the cartel.
The local police always gave them a hard time, but at least you knew the score.
With the military, though, you never knew what was going to happen. Many of
their commanders served the highest bidder and that could easily be an opposing
cartel or even an ambitious underling.

 

She'd learned that the hard way when a military patrol
showed up out of nowhere and scooped her up. Her treatment had been less than
kind but mercifully short; someone with the power to override the commander had
come to her rescue.

 

But that rescue ended up having a price…

 

They never really did come out and admit to who they were.
She never really met any of them in person, but she came to realize that they
must be a Secret Society.

 

At first, that thought absolutely terrified her. But with
more time she came to realize that, at least with this particular Secret Society,
hers and their interests were aligned.

 

This group was exactly the opposite of everything that was
common
knowledge
about the Secret Societies. They’d explained that the military needed
to be kept in check…

 

They’d needed an agent, a foil… And she’d been happy to
oblige.

 

Like everything in her life, she’d done it on her own terms.
She was her own woman and had even arbitrarily turned down assignments just to
prove it.

 

They'd never pushed her beyond that.

 

Whether that meant she had true autonomy or whether it was
simply evidence of their skill with pulling her strings, she didn't dwell on.

 

Her notorious reputation in the Asperian sphere as a genius
hacker was real. Although she was quick to take advantage of any connections or
backdoors her secret friends might offer.

 

Over the years, those connections had provided her with
contacts into many organizations, including a number of Open Societies.

 

She didn't think of herself as cynical. But as the years
went by the disdain she’d felt for the common Asperian citizen had started
changing. The fact that they constantly allowed themselves to be manipulated by
their government, in all its forms, was exasperating, but...

 

Now, mostly, she just felt sadness. Most citizens, she
realized, simply wanted the kind of life that she'd only recently started
valuing… They just wanted to be left alone to raise a family and follow their
desires.

 

What she used to see as simpleminded, she now… envied?

 

Well, she used to envy it. Now it was all gone, for
everyone. The extinction event was abruptly ending everyone's dreams… Even
hers.

 

She had no illusions. She understood the score. In the way
that only women can, she knew that Argentine was still attracted to her, but…

 

But he had responsibilities. It'd taken her a long time to
realize that he was a pretty good Captain. Certainly not in the same mold of
any other Captain she'd ever met, but probably better for it.

 

It was his job to put the safety of his ship, his crew, (and
now) his thousand plus passengers first. And Mandi knew that this was a man
that took his responsibilities seriously.

 

Everything in the Asperian system, including her, was dying.
She truly hoped the Roosevelt had made it out in time, and she'd come to peace
with the fact that they'd had to leave her behind…

 

That's probably why she barked out a short laugh or cough
when the object appeared through her window. She had to wipe her eyes so she
could see clearly, but yes… That was one of the Roosevelt's funny flitters.

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

"Are you
receiving this, Mandi? Can you hear me?"

 

"Argentine? Yes… Yes, Captain. I can hear you. So you
just couldn't stay away, huh?"

 

"I told you, you’ve got some explaining to do. I'm not
going to let you off the hook just because your star system is dying."

 

For the next few moments the comm was silent.

 

Finally, "So, are you going to come get me, or
what?"

 

"Mandi, I'm afraid it's not that simple…"

 

Argentine went on to explain about the contamination fears.

 

"So… You really are here just to… talk?" she said
bravely.

 

"Oh hell no," he responded. "But this is
going to be a lot harder than you might think and… It may not work."

 

"You mean I might not survive."

 

"Yeah, but look… I'm not going to let that happen. I'll
walk you through this step by step and you need to do exactly what I tell
you."

 

"So, that's why you're worried…"

 

"Yeah, you don't exactly have a good track record of
following orders."

 

She finally laughed like her old self…

 

"Okay, you win Argentine. My life is in your hands.
Tell me what to do…"

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

"You want me to do
what?"

 

Mandi was standing in the pressurized airlock of her
shuttle.

 

"Nothing from your ship can come aboard this one,"
he said. "That includes your comm unit, your jewelry, and your
clothing."

 

"Nothing except little old me," she muttered.

 

"Try to store everything you’re removing and tie it
down somehow. The less I have to dodge when we blow the airlock the
better…"

 

Argentine had fastened his own helmet, vented his
atmosphere, and opened the canopy of his flitter. Now, attached only by a
lifeline, he was floating more or less opposite of her shuttle's hatch.

 

"Walk me through again how we’re going to do
this?" she asked for the third time.

 

"Your part is real simple," he started. "When
the hatch blows you need to curl into a fetal ball and start letting that deep
breath you're going to take out a little at a time."

 

"Like a swimmer," she said.

 

"Just like a swimmer," he agreed. "And don't
be sightseeing. You need to keep your eyes closed every single moment."

 

"And you're going to catch me?"

 

"That's right. I've got a space ball here. It's a
single occupant emergency habitat, usually used on orbital construction
projects. It has its own heat and oxygen and it uses a leaded thread to give
you at least some protection from cosmic radiation."

 

"And you're going to catch me and stuff me in that
thing before I freeze, or run out of breath, or my eyeballs burst, or…"

 

"Yeah," Argentine said with a laugh. "I'm
going to do exactly that. When the hatch blows everything inside the airlock,
including you, is going to explosively vent to space. Just remember, no matter
what happens keep your eyes closed and stay in that fetal position."

 

Argentine didn't bother to share with her his own worries.
How fast would she be coming at him? If she didn't stay fetal it was going to
be almost impossible to stuff her into the ball. If he missed, if his suit
couldn't maneuver fast enough…

 

"Are you ready?" he asked.

 

She was terrified. She could admit it to herself. And to
have to do it with her eyes closed? She'd have absolutely no control… She'd
have to totally trust Argentine…

 

And she realized she did.

 

"I'm blowing the hatch!" she yelled.

 

 

ΔΔΔ

 

 

Argentine almost
panicked.

 

When the hatch blew, it didn't separate cleanly.

 

He thought he'd been safely aside of what its trajectory
would be, but it was coming straight at him.

 

Without hesitation he maneuvered his backpack's controls and
avoided a collision.

 

But then he had to immediately reverse thrust to put himself
back in position to catch Mandi. But there was another problem…

 

She wasn't moving nearly as fast as he'd calculated. He was
pretty sure he had enough tether to go get her, but it was going to cost
several precious extra seconds…

 

As her balled up body slowly rotated towards him, his
subconscious registered a surreal visage…

 

The stars gave dark elimination to her form, with her red
hair splayed out, the sparkling ice crystals from her exhaled breath forming
around her face and knees… Her slow-motion tumble in stark contrast to his
acceleration towards her…

 

He opened the emergency habitat ball wide. The inertia from
catching her had been impossible to predict and put them both into a tumble.

 

The star scape was gyrating wildly through his faceplate. He
focused only on the ball in front of him, slapping the controls for emergency
inflation and seal.

 

Once he'd tethered it to his suit, only then did he look up
to get his bearings… And he was heading straight towards Mandi's shuttle.

 

He regained control of his tumble and with full thrust from
his backpack came harrowingly close to another collision – which really
would've ruined the whole point of the
Let's try to avoid contamination by
pulling off an insane spacewalk
exercise.

BOOK: Running With Argentine
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