Tiger- These are the Voyages

by David Smith

  Manny shook his head. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Your man Vitalli is worried about the way the warp-field will close down when we drop out of warp-space.’

  The Chief was no engineer and hadn’t realised that could be a problem. His grin was fixed in place ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

  Manny shifted nervously. ‘Vitalli isn’t filling me with confidence, Chief. He still doesn’t know why the transition to warp felt different and when I spoke to him about it he was hinting that could be a problem when we transition back to normal space.’

  The Chief still had his smile fixed in place. ‘Hey, it worked one way, it’s bound to work the other.’

  Manny scratched his head as he checked his positional data and without a word began pulling on the safety straps that were attached to his seat. The Chief gulped and followed suit as Manny said quietly ‘Well, we’re about to find out Chief. Dropping out of warp in three . . . two . . . one . . . ‘

  On the view-screen the stars went mad, turning to long white streaks and then back into little white dots.

  As they did there was a sudden harsh deceleration, throwing them forward hard against the straps of their seats, accompanied by deafening, tearing, rending groan that ended with a cataclysmic ‘KERRRRANNNNGGGGG!!!!!’

  The lights went out and every warning light on every console on the Bridge began wailing in alarm.

  The Chief gripped the arms of his seat, terrified, while Manny began frantically stabbing at controls, trying to find out what had happened.

  ‘Shit!! The engines are gone!!’

  The Chief looked at him. ‘Can you fix them??’

  Manny killed the wailing alarms and with a sigh pointed to the view screen where two badly distorted, ragged lumps of metal could be seen cart-wheeling away from the ship into the blackness of space.

  ‘I mean . . . ‘ said Manny, choosing his words carefully ‘ . . . that the engines are no longer attached to this ship.’

  --------------------

  When Chief Money and Manny got to the engine room they found Crewman Vitalli tending to a badly injured PO Winston, who’d made the mistake of not strapping himself into one of the ship’s seats.

  The Engineer had a livid bruise and black eye from when the deceleration had smashed his face into the console of the engine room. He was using a dirty rag to dab blood from a far worse impact crater on ‘Arry Winston’s forehead.

  Vitalli looked up. ‘It’s bad Chief. I think ‘Arry may have cracked his skull.’

  The Chief had no time for sympathy. ‘It’s only his head; he’ll get over it. What the hell happened, Vitalli?’

  The engineer looked sheepish. ‘Sorry Chief. I guess I just didn’t think enough about the geometry of the coils.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’ scowled the Chief.

  ‘We fitted the new Tana coils into the forward end of the engine nacelles. They’re like a figure eight instead of a circle, which makes them physically longer than the Federation coils. When we pumped plasma into them to generate a warp field, it took longer for the plasma to fill the new Tana coils, so the Federation coils started generating a warp-field a fraction of a second before the Tana coils did. That field was stretching space behind the Tana coils and was pushing the Tana coils forward until they started generating their own field. I think that’s why we had that weird feeling when we started the drive up: we could feel the difference between the two fields. When we shut the warp-coils down, the Tana coils generated a warp field for a tiny fraction of a second more than the Federation coils. The tritanium structure of the engine chassis survived being compressed when we started them up, but it’s not as strong under tension. When we shut the drive down, the Tana warp coils carried on in warp-space for a nano-second more than the Federation coils and took the front portion of the engine nacelle with them.’

  Feeling the sizeable presence of Manny looming behind him the Chief asked quietly ‘Can you fix that?’

  It never occurred to the still-dazed Vitalli to break bad news gently. ‘Hell, no!! The engines are completely destroyed and there’s no way you’ll ever get commercial insurance for a hull that’s been stressed so badly the engines have sheared themselves in two.’

  The Chief gulped and turned to face Manny who stared at him completely impassively. The only tell-tale the Chief could see was the slight twitching of big Polynesian’s left eye.

  ‘Now I know this sounds like all bad news Manny . . . ‘ said the Chief, backing away as Manny took a small step towards him, fists clenched very, very tightly ‘ . . . but it’s not over yet. We’re still alive, we’re a week in the past and we know enough to make us rich.’

  Manny didn’t look even slightly impressed and the Chief continued backing away and tried again. ‘Both of us, Manny. Very, very, very rich.’

  Manny took another step forward and the Chief found his exit path blocked by the engine room console. Manny stood toe to toe with him and the Chief realised it was time to re-negotiate.

  ‘Ok, fine, this is on me. I may have under-estimated the risk. But the reward is still there for the taking, so let’s just be reasonable men and finish the job in hand shall we?’

  Manny didn’t flinch and the Chief opened the bargaining. ‘How about we adjust our arrangement to say . . . twenty percent of profits?’

  Manny still didn’t blink ‘I believe our arrangement going forward would be subject to a seventy-thirty split. Why don’t we just start that now?’

  Manny’s nose was very nearly touching the Chiefs, and the Chief was sure he could feel the heat of Vainatolo’s anger. Through gritted teeth the Chief said ‘That sounds like an excellent idea Manny.’

  Manny stepped back and the Chief let out a small sigh of relief. Straightening his uniform he headed back to the Bridge where PO Okocha was already opening a communication channel to his contact on earth.

  --------------------

  The Chief liked a good hover-ball game as much as . . . actually he hated it. He’d never seen the point of throwing yourself around on the end of an anti-grav unit while chucking a small hydrogen-filled sphere around.

  However, he seemed to be in a minority and looked on with detached amusement as Manny, Vitalli, Okocha and the heavily bandaged Winston all watched the spectacle even though they already knew the result. That knowledge never stopped them whooping and cheering as the Astros pulled off their unlikely victory through a combination of skill, guts, determination but mostly through outrageous good-fortune.

  The game ended and even as the commentary team were interviewing the stunned and elated Astros, the Chief received a coded communiqué from his man on Earth to let him know the plan was succeeding:

  ‘You lucky, lucky shit!! How did you swing that? More importantly, can I assume that your punt on Wagner Industries will be just as “lucky”?’

  The Chief didn’t reply. Sometimes he enjoyed adding a little mystique to his reputation.

  One point-five million credits. One. Million. Five. Hundred. Thousand. The Chief liked big numbers.

  He smiled to himself. They were off and running, and the numbers were going to get bigger. Much, much bigger.

  It was a shame about the Pacifica, but with the amount of cash they were about to generate, they could afford to buy a similar sized ship (in much better condition) and fit her out with the Tana coils still aboard the scout ship Manny had salvaged.

  They’d also have enough cash to bribe some of the engineers and scientists to work out how to stop that ship’s engines self-destructing after the next trip back in time.

  He’d have plenty of time to think about that as they layed low for a week, letting the rest of the universe catch up with them and making him fabulously wealthy as it did.

  One week before they could call for assistance.

  --------------------

  It had been a long, long week.

  They’d had to lay low to avoid giving the game away, and that meant no unnecessary communication. The Chief had refused to even conta
ct his man on earth to find out how the stock of Wagner Industries was faring, but that didn’t stop him or Manny fantasising how they’d spend their share of a fifteen million credit jackpot.

  With the damage to the Pacifica’s structure, they’d not dared start up the warp-core and had depended on the back-up reactor to provide heat and power. They’d used the reaction drives running at a few percent of their maximum power to nudge the crippled ship very gently back towards Hole and effectively drifted home.

  Finally, on Star Date 9312, at 0230 ships time, Manny noticed a surge of energy from way off their bow and surmised that it was the previous version of themselves leaving Tiger. After the Chief and his team had been transported away by another crewman that owed the Chief a favour, Manny called for help.

  On an open frequency reserved for distress calls he said ‘Mayday, mayday, this is SS Pacifica. I’ve suffered a complete drive failure, can you assist?’

  Lieutenant Janice Lyle was on duty on the Bridge of Tiger. ‘Pacifica, this is USS Tiger. What is your situation?’

  Manny smiled and resisted a temptation to say ‘fabulously wealthy, so please collect me and take me to the nearest seven-star hotel.’

  ‘We’re disabled but safe, Tiger. Warp engines have failed catastrophically, but life-support is intact and there are no injuries.’

  There was a pause and Manny realised he hadn’t turned on the ship’s transponder. He reached across and flicked the illegally installed switch.

  Over the distress channel he heard Tiger’s duty officer respond although strangely she sounded breathless and excited. ‘Ooooh yeahhh! We see you Pacifica. Mmmmm, standby for evacuation by transporter. Tiger . . . yes, yes, yes! . . . out.’

  Manny raised an eye-brow. He supposed it was a good thing to be keen in conducting your duties, but Tiger’s duty officer sounded bizarrely over-excited? He shrugged and stood up ready to be transported. It didn’t matter. Soon he’d be far away from here, living the good life.

  He felt the familiar tingle of a transporter beam taking hold and took a final look around the broken remains of the tatty old tub that had been his home for the last three years.

  He arrived on board USS Tiger and was greeted by the Captain, who looked as if he’d just been woken up. ‘Welcome aboard Mr Vainatolo, I’m Captain Dave Hollins. I’m sorry we have to meet in such circumstances. Are you hurt in any way?’

  Manny held out his hand and as the Captain shook it, replied ‘Call me Manny. I’m fine, but the ships a goner.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Manny. We’ll transport you down to Hole where I’m sure they’ll be happy to accommodate you until . . . ‘

  The Captain suddenly paused. He clearly had no real idea of what Manny’s next step would be. ‘What are your plans, Mr Vainatolo? My understanding is that you make your living recovering scrap and artefacts from around the FTES?’

  ‘I did. I won’t be doing that in Pacifica anymore. Both engines are shot to pieces so she’s just scrap herself now.’

  Manny caught an odd look on Hollins face as the Captain asked him ‘Can you afford a replacement?’

  ‘Not yet’ replied Manny non-committally.

  Hollins nodded and after a pause stated ‘The people on Hole tell me you’re the man to speak to about Treaty Space.’

  Manny shrugged uncertainly, not knowing where the conversation was leading. ‘Dunno ‘bout that. I’ve spent a few years rooting around the place, but it’s a huge space, man. Not even the locals know the whole area.’

  ‘You’ve met some indigenous life-forms?’

  ‘Yeah, there’s over a dozen dotted around the area. Most are friendly. Ish’ he added with a rueful smile. ‘I suppose I could offer you the benefit of the mistakes I’ve made.’

  ‘That’s intriguing’ stated Hollins, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was another pause.

  Manny waited in the awkward silence, wondering if Hollins had somehow rumbled Chief Money’s scheme, but the conversation took an unexpected turn as the Captain voiced what was on his mind.

  ‘You’re probably aware that Tiger is refitting prior to undertaking an exploration mission in Treaty Space?’

  ‘Yeah, I heard that last time I was on Hole. Don’t really envy you: it can be dangerous out there.’

  ‘That’s my point exactly: My dear old Granny told me never to look a gift horse in the mouth’ said Hollins sagely.

  Manny didn’t have a clue what the Captain was talking about and seeing his blank and baffled look, Hollins explained his thinking. ‘Exploring is inherently dangerous. I would be a fool not to take advantage of any knowledge of Treaty Space where it’s available. It could save time. It could save the ship.’

  ‘I’m not following you?’

  ‘I’d like you to consider coming with us.’

  ‘What???’

  ‘Come with us. We’re going to spend the next four to five years in Treaty Space and I believe your knowledge and experience would be an invaluable asset. In my position as Captain I can offer you a contract as a civilian advisor, paid at the top-rate of our non-commissioned officers. You’ll be working with our science team and won’t have any duties aboard ship other than telling us what you know about the systems we visit.’

  Manny actually thought about it before remembering that Chief Money was about to make him spectacularly rich. ‘Thanks for the offer, man, but . . . ‘

  Hollins interrupted him. ‘Don’t think you have to give me an answer now. We’re still a few weeks from setting out and my offer is good until then. Sleep on it. We could offer you the chance to be part of a great team, and we could certainly use a man with your knowledge.’

  They shook hands again and Manny said ‘Yeah. Thanks. I’ll think about it. Before you transport me down to Hole, would it be possible to have a quick word with Chief Reuben Money?’

  --------------------

  The Chief fretted nervously.

  He wasn’t a great lover of confrontation, especially when it was himself who was being confronted. He wasn’t aware of Vainatolo having a reputation for violence, but bad news did strange things to people.

  Manny ambled into the Chief’s office and was immediately wary. The fact that the Chief had a couple of his ‘heavy gang’ in the office with him would have put any one on their guard: they were big, they were ugly and in such a small office they took up a wholly disproportionate amount of space.

  ‘Hey Chief. What’s the score?’ said Vainatolo warily.

  The Chief took a big breath before replying. ‘Hey Manny. Sit down, I’m afraid I have some bad news.’

  The tension in the tiny room increased instantly.

  ‘I’d rather stand. What’s going on Chief?’

  ‘Sorry Manny, it’s a bust.’

  ‘What??? How is that possible??’

  The Chief considered asking his two henchmen to leave, but he still wasn’t sure if he could trust Vainatolo, and besides, he didn’t pick his heavy-gang on account of their intellectual qualities. He could say whatever he needed to say and neither of them would understand a single word of it.

  The Chief took another deep breath before trying to break the news gently. ‘It would seem that I have underestimated the principle of cause and effect.’

  Vainatolo stared at him impassively.

  So far, so good, thought the Chief and continued. ‘It transpires that events are not as definite as I had assumed.’

  Vainatolo stared at him impassively.

  The Chief carried on. ‘Whilst the plan in essence was rational, the limited time in which we had to plan the venture led to us . . . to me . . . missing a salient point.’

  ‘And what would that be?’ asked Vainatolo quietly.

  ‘There are always winners, and for every winner, there has to be a loser. When we won big on the hover-ball game, we took one and a half million credits out of a bookmaker.’

  ‘That was the plan,’ said Vainatolo, warily ‘it worked, I saw that happen.’

  ‘Yeah. Unfortu
nately we didn’t see what happened next as we went into radio silence to avoid there being two obvious versions of us drifting around the universe.’

  The Chief sighed. It should really have worked. ‘We didn’t see our win causing the bookmaker to go bust. They went under big-fashion, and failed to generate the expected windfall for their parent company.’

  The Chief saw Vainatolo shift uncomfortably. He was a smart man, and the Chief could see he was already successfully putting two and two together.

  Clearing his throat the Chief concluded his explanation. ‘The parent company was Wagner Industries, a company specialising in leisure and entertainment. When I looked up their data ten days ago, before we left, they’d just had a million credit windfall. It turns out that was a result of heavy betting against the Astros win. That staved off the collapse of the company and the shares rebounded.’

  Manny looked confused. ‘Whoa! Are you trying to tell me we’ve changed the future????’

  The Chief shrugged with a sigh. ‘Yeah, I never saw that coming. Instead of a big cash injection, the bookies made a huge loss, going under and dragging their struggling parent company down with them.’

  He handed a data pad over to Manny, who looked through the current financial data available incredulously.

  ‘We sank one and a half million into shares of Wagner, buying two million nine hundred and eight thousand shares just before the bookies folded. When we left Tiger shares in Wagner were trading for just shy of six credits a piece. We’ve come back at exactly the same moment we’ve left, but now the market reports say trading in Wagner Industries shares stopped when they dropped to sixty shares per credit.’

  ‘We’ve changed the future . . . ‘ mumbled Vainatolo.

  ‘So it would appear’ sighed the Chief.

  He felt sorry for Manny. He’d taken it well, even though it was a big deal for him. For himself, it was just another deal gone wrong. He’d made a loss, but it wasn’t the first time and the Chief was clever enough to know it wouldn’t be the last time either. You’ve got to speculate to accumulate, but speculating doesn’t always pan out like you planned.