First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3

by KOTCHER, MICHAEL

“Show off,” he said with a smile.

  As the cargo ramps of the shuttles dropped, GE Security personnel tromped down to the dirt below. They were armored up in police-style chest protectors and helmets, armed with carbines, shotguns and sidearms. They all looked very professional and were sweeping the area with their guns for targets. Saiphirelle came out of shuttle four, her own weapon pointed and ready. “Keep sharp!” she ordered. After another moment of scans and she ordered the perimeters around the shuttles expanded and all of them pushed forward. In the distance, the security teams could hear the whine of repulsors as Silver Dawn touched down. The other cargo hauler didn’t have shuttles and with no space industry here on Heb, the ship had to land. This actually made loading and unloading much quicker, since the crew didn’t need to keep the cargo hold depressurized and do everything in skinsuits.

  A pair of Ka’Xarian’s Slk’vzn fighters, or Visions as everyone was calling them, roared by. The zheen engineer, always being clever had named the starfighters after a voracious flesh-eater on his homeworld, but everyone else (mostly humans) pronounced the name “slick vision”, which moved along in line with what the zheen had planned. He’d been insufferably smug after everyone had figured out what he was doing as far as the naming convention was concerned. The warbirds did lazy orbits, their engines screaming, mostly just looking threatening and keeping the sky clear of threats.

  “Grania Estelle, this is Sai, ground area looks clear, we’re going ahead with cargo unload.”

  “Copy that,” Serinda’s voice came back. “Captain says to maintain caution.”

  “Yes, Mother,” the lupusan growled. “We’ll be careful. I’ll call for support if we need it.”

  The landing area was the same one that they had used multiple times, bringing first fuel and then parts and then the whole structure of the first reactor. There was talk about setting up a landing pad for fueling shuttles, but Vall had vetoed that idea, saying that he didn’t want shuttles flying anywhere near the reactor, visions of spacecraft plowing into the side of his shiny new fusion reactor and destroying the city dancing in the then acting-governor’s brain. So the landing pad was moved to the northern edge of the city and the fuel would be shipped in by a fleet of trucks.

  Less than a minute later, a convoy of tractor trailers pulled up, swinging wide to circle the landing pad back around to the entry road. Minutes later, the drivers of the three trucks and cargo handlers piled out of the cabs and made their way back around. A few of the Grania Estelle’s cargo people, led by Ardeth, trooped out of the shuttles, lugging hover pallets of fuel behind them. The cargo specialist approached Saiphirelle’s security perimeter, datapad in hand. She nodded to him as he walked up and then stepped aside for him.

  One of the cargo handlers walked up to Ardeth and gave a small bow. “Mister Marven, it is good to see you again.”

  “Harrison! They still got you driving the trucks I see,” Ardeth said, boisterously, clapping the man on the shoulder.

  “Yes, sir, they are,” the other man replied. “And I see we have a lovely shipment of fuel.”

  Ardeth smiled, glancing back at the hover pallets before turning back to Harrison. “Yes, we do. I just need you to authorize payment and it’s all yours. We’ll get you all loaded up.” The fuel was in huge drums on the hover pallets.

  The man nodded. “Where do I sign?”

  He held out the datapad. “Just here, then we’ll get you out of here.”

  Harrison took the datapad and checked over the information on the screen. He nodded. “Looks good.” He thumbed the tab and handed it back. “Let’s get this stuff loaded up!”

  Ardeth smiled and took it, hooking the device on his belt. He waved to his cargo people and the local handlers hustled forward to help. It took about half an hour, all told, for the cargo people to get the fuel canisters unloaded from the shuttles and onto the trucks. Then there was a fair amount of dithering around as an argument ensued about the proper way to secure the canisters, something about straps, clamps and ropes. It even got so bad that a shoving match started before Harrison and Ardeth could regain control of their people.

  “I never knew that such a passionate disagreement could happen over something that simple,” Ardeth remarked.

  “I never thought people who lifted boxes for a living would get in a fight over something that stupid,” Saiphirelle huffed, sounding disgusted. The cargo specialist laughed. “You better make sure they keep cool, or else I’m going to get in there and separate them.” She growled. “And I won’t be that gentle about it.”

  “Don’t worry, Chief,” the man said, smiling, but she could tell it was forced. “I’ll keep order. You just stay focused out the outer perimeter.”

  She pointed one claw-tipped finger at him. “You’d better, Specialist. I’ve got enough problems without yours and the locals getting in a pissing contest over straps versus clamps. Lock it down.”

  “Easy, Chief,” Ardeth replied, chuckling nervously. “We’re all shipmates here.”

  Saiphirelle wanted to flick her ears, but she couldn’t with the blasted helmet on. “They aren’t,” she said, flicking the muzzle of her carbine in the general direction of the local cargo handlers, who were securing the last of the containers inside the third truck.

  “Please don’t hurt them, Chief,” Ardeth begged. “They’re just cargo workers.”

  She put a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Relax, Marven. I’m not going to kill them. I might smack them around a little,” she said, leering at them. At his horrified look, she chuckled. “Relax, Marven. Unless they step too far out of line and try to hurt our people, they’ll be fine. Won’t stop me from getting a little scary though and showing them the error of their ways, but all of them will walk away from this.” The lupusan stamped around a little, looking angry and annoyed. Perhaps she was. Ardeth Marven had never been good at reading lupusan’s body language, at least the more subtle aspects. They were predators and all of them could do menacing; the Chief here excelled at being frightening. But back home on Seylonique, lupusan performed all manner of jobs: teachers, doctors, merchants, hell, Captain Korneyev back on FP’s constructor ship was proof enough of that. And she was certainly much less aggressive than her brethren.

  “Yes, Chief. I’ll try and keep it all together.” He sighed, rolling his head, trying to loosen up his neck muscles. Being around the Chief of Security was always stressful and what was worse was that she knew it. He was sure, actually, that she purposefully turned up the menacing aura just to stress him out. Why he was lucky enough to receive her “charm” he didn’t know. He must amuse her. Lucky me.

  Ardeth turned to the cargo loaders and hustled over, shouting some encouragements to his people. Two of his people were helping one of the locals secure the last container, both clamping it to the floor of the trailer and strapping it down solidly. It took a few extra minutes, but no one wanted the fuel to break loose and break through the thin plating of the trailer. Finally, the last of the cargo was secured and the Grania Estelle’s cargo people maneuvered the hover pallets back into the shuttles. Saiphirelle had her security teams fall back as well, still taking no chances, but no threats approached, or were even seen. The rear cargo doors on the trailers were slammed shut and locked, and the diesel engines started up. The lupusan watched as the trucks slowly pulled away, heading back down the road. She was just turning to enter the shuttle when something caught her eye.

  The trucks were coming to a T-intersection at the far end of the road, a large warehouse in view from the landing field at the end of the road making the intersection. The first two trucks turned right, lumbering down the dirt road and then hitting a large jolt when they went up on the pavement. However, the third truck went left, heading off in the opposite direction from the other two.

  “Where the hell is that one going?” Saiphirelle wondered. Turning, she hustled inside the shuttle, ordering her teams back aboard as she did so. Moving quickly, she went to the cockpit, seeing the last of her pe
ople were back inside the ship. The cargo ramp was closing. “Get us in the air,” she ordered.

  The pilot looked confused. “What?”

  “Did I stutter?” she asked, getting angry. “I need you to get this ship in the air as soon as possible. One of the trucks that we just loaded is moving in a different direction than the others. I want to know why.”

  The pilot shrugged and began flipping switches, powering the ship’s repulsors. Ten seconds later, the shuttle lifted off, and the pilot began turning the ship in the direction of space.

  Saiphirelle rested a hand on the man’s shoulder, very lightly. “No, turn us back. Bring us up two hundred meters and back in the direction of the city. I want to follow that third truck.”

  “I have orders from the Captain telling us once the cargo is dropped off, we’re to head right back to the ship,” the pilot said, still resistant.

  The lupusan growled, putting all the subsonics she could into her voice. The pilot blanched and tried to hunch away from her hand on his shoulder. “Do not make me ask you again, please,” she said, still growling.

  “But the Captain…”

  “The Captain trusts my judgment,” the security chief informed him, applying slight pressure on his shoulder. The acrid stink of fear filled the cockpit. He hadn’t lost control of himself, yet, but it was clear that terror was not far off. “So should you. I don’t want to lose that truck. Now carry out my order, pilot.”

  He swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am. Changing course now.”

  She nodded in satisfaction and released her hold on the man. Taking off her helmet, she turned to the copilot. “Get in touch with the other shuttles,” she said to her. “Tell them to head back up to the ship.”

  The copilot immediately began keying her comms. “Yes, Chief. The other two shuttles are on their way back up now.” Only three of Grania Estelle’s shuttles had been needed to bring down all the fuel for this first load. Governor Vall’s associate in charge of the He3 reactor had asked that they only bring it down in three-shuttle lots, as they only had so much in the way of transport capability to move it from the landing field to the reactor. It would take another three trips using only three of the shuttles to get all the fuel down from the ship.

  So if they only have so much transport, Saiphirelle mused, then why is one of their trucks peeling off to go somewhere else? If he’s still going to the power plant, why not take the same route? “Have you tracked that third truck?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the copilot replied. She pulled up a feed on her small central display. She pointed. “Here it is, ma’am. They’re heading west, whereas the other two trucks are going northeast.”

  “Keep track of that truck,” she ordered. “But keep us no lower than two hundred meters up.”

  “Understood,” the pilot replied. “I’ll keep us over the city. Should we have our escort follow us, or return to the ship?”

  The lupusan sighed. “Split it,” she told him. “Have one stay with us, the other follows the rest of the shuttles back up to the ship.”

  “Yes, Chief,” the copilot replied, relaying the orders. The Visions broke off their lazy loop; one of them tearing off after the retreating cargo shuttles heading out of the atmosphere, the other slowly gaining on their ship.

  “This is Vision Ten to Shuttle Four,” came the call over the comms.

  “Answer,” Saiphirelle probed. “In fact, put me on with him.” The copilot pressed the control then nodded. “This is Shuttle Four, go ahead.”

  “What’s going on, Ess-Four?” the man asked, clearly confused. “I mean, I appreciate the flight time, but where the hell are we going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “We’re following one of the trucks that just picked up our fuel,” Saiphirelle replied.

  “Wait, what? Who is this? Esmay, is that you?”

  The lupusan sighed. “This is Chief of Security Saiphirelle Hyjae,” she told him.

  She could hear the fighter pilot gulp on the other end of the line. “Uh, yes, Chief. Um. You said something about chasing after a truck?”

  She nodded, though the conversation was audio only. “Yes, that’s correct, Ten.” Then she reconsidered. “Though we’re not chasing it. I just want to follow. It peeled off from the others and seems to be going somewhere else. I want to know where it’s going and then I’ll get with the Captain and find out why.”

  “Understood,” Ten replied. “What do you need from me?”

  “Run your sensors at maximum, Ten,” Sai told him. “Vacuum up everything you can for analysis later.”

  There was a pause. “Well, Chief, I’ll get what I can for you, but my fighter was outfitted for combat, not sensor coverage. But I’ll pick up as much information as I can for you, but I can’t guarantee it’s going to be the greatest-…”

  “It’ll be fine,” she assured him, projecting more confidence than she actually felt. She wasn’t as up on her fighter configurations as she should have been. “Just get me what you can; we’ll get Operations and Stella to analyze it later.” And she vowed that she’d be speaking with Leader Stenlake and her executive officer about what armament and what equipment was hooked up to the fighters. In the future, she might need to have a detailed sensor sweep done the next time something like this happened.

  Another slight pause. “You got it, Chief. Vacuum activated,” he joked.

  “You see anything, sing out,” she ordered. “Otherwise, it’s business as usual. You watch our back.”

  “Copy that, Chief.”

  She nodded to the copilot. “Where’s that truck now?”

  “Here, Chief,” she pointed to the display. “It’s been following along this main road for a while… actually, it just turned into this industrial complex here.” She blinked, confused. “What the hell? Why the hell are they going in there?”

  “That’s a very good question,” Saiphirelle asked. “And I think it’s time we get that information to the captain. Take us up, back to the ship.”

  Eamonn was waiting in the boat bay when Shuttle Four’s passenger hatch slid open. Saiphirelle and her security team stepped out, followed by the cargo handlers. All of them headed for the main entrance to the boat bay, to shower and eat, stow their gear. All but the Chief, who stopped and leaned against the hull of the shuttle, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What the hell are you doing with my hardware, Chief?” he asked, hands on his hips.

  “I saw something that didn’t make sense, Captain,” the lupusan replied. She wasn’t going to be intimidated by a slightly irate Captain Eamonn. “And I decided to follow up on it and see what we could find out.”

  “You should have called it in to me,” Vincent pointed out, the anger in his face altering. It was changing to more puzzlement. Then he huffed out a breath, irritation back. “All right, what did you see?”

  “What I saw, Captain,” she said slowly, drawing out each word, most likely just to increase his ire, “was that after we loaded up three trucks, two of them headed back in the direction of the power plant, but one of them drove off in completely the opposite direction.” One of Vincent’s eyebrows shot up at this news, but he didn’t interrupt. He gestured for her to continue. “So I rerouted Shuttle Four here to get a bird’s eye view of that truck and find out where they were taking all that fuel.”

  “And?”

  She pulled out a datacard from her vest pocket. “I have the shuttle’s sensor and camera feeds right here. They sent it to an industrial complex on the west side of the city. Now, I have no idea what that place is, who owns it or why they would reroute a third of the first shipment of He3 fuel to that location. But as you say, that’s not my job. You and Stella and George can figure that out.” With a flick of her fingers, she tossed it to him and he snatched it out of the air. “In three hours, we’re going to load up for the next round and head back down. I want to get something to eat.”

  He tore his eyes away from the datacard, nodding slowly. “All right. Go. I’ll follow up
on this.”

  A day later, Vincent found himself seated in the wardroom, looking at George seated at the closest seat to him on his left, and Stella seated above the holo projector in front of him on the table. Their analysis of the flight recorder and sensor data from Vision Ten as well as that from the shuttle hadn’t told him much more than he’d already known or had guessed. “As far as where they were taking it, Captain, I can’t say,” George was saying. “My teams and I have gone over the data and studied the city maps and technically that facility was shut down. It was a factory complex at one point, possibly years ago, but it’d been abandoned quite a while ago.”

  Vincent sighed. It wasn’t terribly surprising. “Who owns it?”

  “No one, according to a few discrete inquiries I’ve made, Captain,” Stella answered. “Though I guess the proper answer to that is the government. It was closed and abandoned, and it reverted to city control at that point.”

  “So they just drove it to another government facility.”

  George made a throwing away gesture. “If you want to call it that. But there was nothing in that area that had anything to do with helium 3. There was no reason to send that much fuel there. They actually sent one more of the trucks that we loaded up on the third shuttle run there as well.”

  “Any idea why they might be sending it there?” Vincent asked. “I mean legitimately.”

  George sighed. “I… suppose they might be using it as an alternate storage site. But even that doesn’t make sense, Cap. I mean, I guess they might want to make sure that they don’t have all their fuel in one place, in case of anyone trying to cause damage, but then they would then have to truck it all the way across the city to the power plant when they actually needed to use it.” He shrugged. “I can’t really see any good reason, Cap.”

  “Actually,” Stella put in, “I can. They’re selling it.”

  Both men started in surprise. “Selling it? To whom?” Vincent asked.

  “Well,” she hedged. “I don’t actually know. But I did find this on one of my sensor sweeps.” She held up one hand, palm up and a display appeared. She flung it forward and the large displays behind Vincent lit up with the same information. George chuckled; he always enjoyed Stella’s antics, as though she was a sorceress, conjuring phantoms. “There’s another freighter here. It looks like someone’s going to a reasonable amount of trouble to try and hide it, but Shuttle Four managed to pick it up as it was flying over the city.” The image pushed in on a large building: a warehouse, or perhaps an aircraft hangar. It looked as though it was taken at only just higher than ground level, which didn’t seem to make sense. “As Shuttle Four was coming over the city, the cameras spotted this. Organic eyes most likely would have missed it, but I found it.” Stella looked smug.