Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One

by Claire, Nicola

  It wasn’t looking good for Sector One. But I had to keep an open mind. Ten thousand souls depended on this meeting.

  The guard at the door was not Anderson Universal crew, but a private security firm Archibald had employed - and given precious space on board the ship to - in order to ensure his own protection. Just what he thought would happen, I didn’t know. Seeing as he’d approved every single person who now lived aboard Pavo.

  He may not have been the mayor or the captain of this vessel, but I wasn’t arrogant enough to not realise he was the man who ruled.

  Sweat started to dampen my neck.

  “Name,” the guard said officiously. I had no doubt he damn well knew who Ms Kereama was, let alone knew who I was, but this was a power play directed by a very powerful and eccentric man.

  “Captain John Jameson and Ms Marama Kereama to see Mr Archibald,” I said calmly.

  The guard lifted a hand to his earpiece, an earpiece which had a secured network I had not been given the codes to, and nodded his head as if someone had been speaking.

  It rankled. I won’t deny. But it was also in the lease agreement.

  A woman appeared at the guard’s shoulder; slim pencil skirt in navy, white blouse with the Archibald Enterprises navy and cream emblem on her right breast pocket. She wore low heels and silk stockings. I wondered how long she’d be able to maintain such a dedicated presence on the length of this voyage.

  “Captain, Ms Kereama,” she greeted. “Please follow me.”

  She spun on her heel, and the guard stepped aside. Marama leaned heavily on my arm as we followed Archibald’s personal assistant. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was an act.

  “Please take a seat,” the PA said. “Mr Archibald had to take an urgent communication. He’ll be with you when his schedule becomes free again.”

  We were being reprimanded like bad school children because we were ten minutes late.

  Busy, busy man Damon Archibald.

  I helped Ms Kereama into a seat but didn’t sit myself. Standing to the side, I waited at parade rest. Legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind my back, chin up, back straight.

  He kept us waiting ten minutes to the second and it took everything in me not to snarl.

  Damon Archibald was an athletic man in his early forties; perhaps five years older than me. He wore a bespoke suit in the Archibald navy and a cream silk tie over a white shirt. His cufflinks were worth more than my commission payment. In order to have leased Pavo, he would have had to fork over somewhere in the vicinity of seventy billion dollars to Anderson Universal. Of course, a lot of that was offset by his paid-for-passengers. In essence, it was the most successful and largest ever laundering of money a person could have hoped to achieve.

  Archibald would start life on New Earth with a lot of clean money.

  “Mara,” he said, smiling what I considered to be a genuine smile. He walked across the room to grasp Ms Kereama’s hands in his own. Then bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

  For her part, Marama Kereama blushed like a school girl. But the look she gave him told me everything.

  She loved this man deeply.

  “Damon, you’ve not come to visit me,” she scolded, playfully.

  I could not for the life of me picture Damon Archibald in Habitat Two.

  “It’s been a frantic few weeks,” he explained. “You know how it is; business first.”

  And that said everything.

  “You know Captain Jameson, of course,” Ms Kereama said indicating me.

  Archibald stood up, and the smile he’d been gracing Marama with disappeared like Earth’s longevity.

  “Captain, I had not realised you would be accompanying my nanny.”

  I inclined my head in acknowledgement of the unspoken accusation.

  “I’m afraid; I impinged on Ms Kereama’s kind heart in order to get in to see you swiftly,” I admitted.

  “Mara,” he said, his voice no longer soft and caring. “You lied to me. Your health is not as poorly as you lead me to believe.”

  I wasn’t so sure of that. Or at least, Mara Kereama was playing up her advanced age for some reason. But the call to Archibald was now backfiring. He believed she’d deceived him.

  Well, she had really.

  I stepped forward.

  “Mr Archibald, I need to discuss something of the utmost importance with you; lives are at stake.”

  He straightened his cuffs; an affectation I was sure was purposeful.

  “Why not ping my comm?” he asked.

  “Because we both know you would not have read it.” I’d meant to imply that as a businessman, his messages were vetted by others.

  Of course, that was not how he took my meaning.

  “I am a very busy man, Captain. In fact, I have a pressing engagement to attend right now. You might have a ship to fly, but I have over one thousand people requiring my direction.”

  “I thought that was what Cecil was for,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “The mayor has his role as do I.”

  “And as do I, sir,” I rushed to say. “There’s been an incident.”

  He held up his hand to stall me.

  “Does it involve the civilians on this ship?”

  “Not directly.”

  “Then I must insist you make an appointment with the mayor and take your chances there.”

  “Damon!” Marama exclaimed. “This is serious. A ship has been lost.”

  I raised my eyebrows at Ms Kereama. She met my look with raised eyebrows of her own.

  Clearly, I’d have to impress upon the woman the nature of an NDA.

  “Which ship?” Archibald asked.

  “Vela,” I said returning my attention to the man who held Pavo’s lease.

  “I’m not familiar with that vessel.”

  I doubted it.

  “The Sector One lead vessel. The AI-controlled vessel that gave them the best chance of arriving at our destination. Without which, their chances of survival are slim.”

  “How does this affect me?”

  I stared at the man. Then recovered my equilibrium.

  “Over one thousand souls have been lost, with the potential for ten thousand souls to follow shortly.”

  “They can survive without AI assistance.”

  And now he was an expert at spaceflight.

  “They won’t reach New Earth,” I said sharply. “We need to wait for them to catch up. They’ve increased thrust to compensate and should be with us in roughly two days.”

  “Two days, eleven hours and forty-three minutes,” Pavo announced. “This is lengthening as we speak as our fleet has not stopped forward momentum.”

  Archibald didn’t even blink.

  “We can’t stop,” he said. “We’re expected at New Earth within days of Sector Three. I cannot allow them to have longer at our end point than they have already managed to secure.”

  Because that would mean he would be behind the eight ball, and Damon Archibald was not a man to enjoy coming second in anything.

  “Granted it will delay us some,” I said. “But can we put a time - or price - on ten thousand lives?”

  “I can. And I will. And if I remember correctly, Captain, you have jump quotas to meet. How do you expect to do so if we wait for a crippled fleet?”

  I straightened slightly; just slightly, barely perceptibly, because to show emotion in front of this man would be bad. Archibald did not do emotion.

  I glanced at Marama Kereama and wondered how she had reached this man when he was a boy. I wondered if she had reached him at all. I couldn’t correlate the kind, grandmotherly persona of the woman I’d met this afternoon with the austere and unfeeling mogul before me.

  “Mr Archibald,” I said. “Ten thousand…”

  “I’ve said all I wish to say about this. Do your job, Captain. The job you’re paid to do. Honour the lease. And forget about Sector One. There was always a chance we’d lose somebody. And they drew the short straw launching last.
”

  Short straw, because the sun had become more and more unstable. Unscheduled solar flares. Not even science could predict those.

  “You can’t…” I stared.

  “I can. And I have. It’s over. Write them off in your log or whatever it is you ship types keep. They’re as good as gone.”

  “But they’re not gone!” I growled.

  The room suddenly swamped with security. I did everything I could to release the anger before this escalated, and Ms Kereama got caught in the crossfire.

  “You’re making a mistake,” I pressed.

  “From my point of view, the only mistake made here is meeting with you. Next time, make an appointment with the mayor. That’s what he’s there for. And don’t disturb me.”

  “Damon Francis Archibald!” Marama Kereama said, moving to her feet. “This is not the man I raised.”

  Archibald turned to look at her and what I saw there made even me freeze. How Ms Kereama faced off against him, I’ll never know. But she lifted her chin and opened her mouth as if to tear strips off the man.

  “You are here at my convenience,” Archibald said before she could speak. His voice steady and low; threatening. “Don’t make me regret that sentimentality. You do still have a niece.”

  Did he just threaten Ana?

  I didn’t get a chance to absorb that before the guards stepped forward and ordered us to leave. Archibald was out of the room in the next breath. Mara was being pushed by the tip of a plasma gun by the breath that followed. I had to stand down or she’d get hurt in a melee.

  “We’re leaving,” I said, gripping Marama beneath the elbow to steady her, and pushing the guard back a few feet. “Back off!”

  “Don’t try anything,” the guard snarled.

  “Are you kidding me?” I growled. “I’m the captain!”

  “Not on this deck you’re not.”

  Eleven

  Let Me Think

  Ana

  “Humans can be very strange,” Pavo said from the ceiling.

  I’d been trying to read a medical text on my datapad, but I’d only managed three sentences and a cup of tea. Pavo’s interruption was welcomed, if not a little unsettling.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  “They do not care for those they do not know personally.”

  I scowled at the datapad for a second.

  “Sometimes it’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

  “Why would you need to wear their shoes to feel compassion?”

  “Do you understand compassion?”

  “I understand the principal. It is the concern for the misfortune of others.”

  “That’s true. Do you feel it?”

  “No. But I do not need to feel it to comprehend when it is missing.”

  “Where’s it missing, Pavo?”

  “Damon Archibald will not allow us to wait for what remains of the Sector One Fleet. Is that not a representation of failure to feel compassion for another?”

  The Sector One Fleet. Vela’s fleet. Without him, they were doomed to wander in near-Earth space indefinitely. There were no habitable planets near our solar system. And getting outta Dodge right now was a necessity. From what I’d read, they’d manage that much without an AI to help them jump parsecs. But anymore was an uncertainty.

  Over ten thousand people to a fleet.

  I shuddered as I put the datapad down on the bed beside me.

  “Is my aunt all right?”

  “Mara is being well cared for by Captain Jameson.”

  I let out a relieved breath.

  “What did Archibald say?”

  “He does not wish to be delayed in reaching New Earth. Waiting for the Sector One Fleet would delay us two days, eleven hours and fifty-eight minutes,” Pavo announced. “This is lengthening as we speak.”

  Because we were still moving forward. Or as forward as you can get in space.

  “He’s worried about a delay?” I said softly.

  “He does not want the Sector Three Fleet to have more time than they have been assigned at New Earth.”

  That didn’t make any sense. New Earth was hardly ready for human habitation. It would take time to make a colony. We all knew we’d be stuck on board the ships for possibly years after our arrival. And that was, of course, if we didn’t run into any little green men along the way to muck up the flight plan.

  I leaned back against the headboard and tried to think.

  Ten thousand people were all that my tired brain could come up with.

  The door chimed and then slid open. Aunt Mara looked dead on her feet.

  I jumped up and rushed the short distance to her side, eyeing the captain carefully.

  “Auntie,” I said softly. “Come, sit down.”

  “I’m fine, Ana. Just furious.”

  “Pavo told me.”

  “He did, did he?” the captain said as he followed Aunt Mara into the small cabin and the door slid shut behind him.

  It was too damn cramped in here for me to breathe.

  “Thank you for returning my aunt safely, Captain,” I said. “But there’s no reason for you to delay returning to the bridge.”

  “Oh, the bridge is in good hands,” he said dismissively and walked over to the kitchenette. “Three teas, Pavo.”

  “Three teas, just how you like them, Captain.”

  I stared at him, my jaw hanging open. Then snapped it shut when he turned around with the teas.

  “Ms Kereama,” he said, handing me one. I took it, unable to think of a word to say. “Marama,” he said, handing my aunt hers.

  First name basis. They’d been to war and bonded, it seemed.

  The captain retreated to one of the stools in the corner and sat down, then ran a hand through his blonde hair, making it stand up on end and look sleep messed. I looked down into my cup abruptly.

  “Do you think he’ll relent?” Jameson asked.

  “I am ashamed to say,” my aunt said, sounding weary, “that he can be quite stubborn.”

  “One doesn’t make billions by the age of twenty without being determined,” Jameson said, taking a sip of his tea.

  “I am sorry, Captain,” Auntie said.

  “Not your fault.”

  “I practically raised him. I cannot believe he would let those people…” She made a sound. I reached out and gripped her hand in mine.

  “He’s set himself up a new world empire,” I said softly. “He’ll rule it any way he pleases.”

  “But we are so few now,” Aunt Mara said.

  I looked toward the captain. He was watching us both, impassively. I was quite sure he was feeling something, though, but he didn’t let an ounce of it show. I suddenly realised why he’d been given one of the lead vessels at such a young age. He certainly was something.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “There’s nothing I can do,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m constrained by the lease agreement. I have jump quotas I must meet. And Vela was the only Anderson Universal ship in the Sector One Fleet. As far as my employers are concerned, we have no tie to those behind us. Not enough to circumnavigate the lease.”

  “So,” I said, sounding sharp, “you would do something to break the lease agreement if there had been an Anderson Universal ship back in that fleet?”

  “I would have legal grounds to challenge the lease agreement, then.” He didn’t even hesitate to meet my eyes, despite my cutting tone of voice.

  “Ten thousand people, Captain.”

  “I know.”

  He placed his cup down on the small table and stood to his feet.

  “Ladies, I must inform my flight crew.” His lips twisted into a grimace. “And write up my log.”

  I stood up too.

  “Is that it?” I demanded.

  “That’s it, Ms Kereama.” He placed a palm on the door lock system, and the door slid open before him. He stepped outside and then turned back to look at Aunt Mara. “Thank you for y
our help, Ms Kereama. It will be noted in my log.”

  And then he left. Just like that. Without a tear shed for those who Archibald had just condemned to obscurity.

  “That man!” I exclaimed.

  “You mean the captain?” Aunt Mara asked, I turned to glare at her, but her eyes were closed, and she was lying back on the bed now, one arm thrown over her forehead.

  “Auntie?”

  “Just let me think, aroha,” she said.

  “About what?”

  “About how we can help Captain Jameson and get around that lease.”

  “Auntie,” I said exasperatedly. “What on earth can we do? You heard him. He’s unwilling to do anything that jeopardises his position in charge of this particular fleet.”

  “That’s just the thing, Ana. The captain’s not in charge of this fleet. He’s not in charge of this vessel, even. It was a mistake to lease them out in this fashion. A grave mistake to set up a civilian governing system. But money talks. It has always talked. If he had money, perhaps Jameson could fight Damon. But all he has is his position. If he breaks the lease, he’d be out. And right now, he’s our best chance of saving what’s left of that fleet.”

  “The longer it takes,” I started.

  “I know,” my aunt said, gravely. “Now hush. Let me think.”

  Twelve

  What Now Captain?

  Jameson

  “Sir, we can’t just leave them behind!” Lieutenant Marshal exclaimed.

  “Marshal!” Torrence snapped. “Control yourself.”

  “Yes, sir. But, sir, I have friends in that sector.”

  Ah, shit.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” I said, meaning it with every ounce of my being.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said forlornly.

  “This is unprecedented,” Nico Medina said. The doctor looked stricken. “Why didn’t we think something like this could happen? Anderson Universal could have made contingencies for it in the lease.”

  “They did,” I said, tiredly. “We have an out clause to aid and assist any Anderson Universal vessel in need. If Vela had been crippled and not destroyed, we could have overruled Archibald. As it stands, there are no Anderson ships left in that fleet.”