Proving True: A Sonia MacTaggert Novel

by Robert Culp

  Athena gets that familiar distant look in her eyes. “Accessing. There are no patents for Peter Scholnich or PeteArmor currently in effect. If he filed a patent it has expired or been rescinded.”

  “According to his biography, I get the impression he didn’t file one. For him it was more about the challenge and protecting his friends. Do you have the files associated with the improvements I made, what the troopers were calling ‘SoniArmor?’ and the replication specs we used on Night Searcher?” She nods. “Good, use those to file a patent on my behalf, please. File it on Atlas, if you can. They have more lenient laws for manufacturing. Goliath is my second choice if Atlas isn’t viable.” I’m all about protecting my friends, but I don’t have a trillionaire footing my expenses like Scholnich did.

  “Accessing. Filing. The filing fee for Atlas is 2,000 credits. If you wish, I can register it sector wide for 5,000 credits.”

  “Spend the five, please.”

  “I am registering the patent with the Danfellows Patent Office. Sonia MacTaggert has sole ownership of all rights for production of SoniArmor. Legally, no one will be able to produce a unit without your permission.”

  A familiar voice splits the air, “Sonia!” I barely have enough time to turn before Shawna plows into me. For a pilot Shawna is a strong girl. On a ship, between flights, there’s not that much to do. And some of her best friends are career infantry soldiers. They are all definitely subject matter experts for physical fitness. She has wrapped her arms around me, lifted me up and twirled me around.

  “Put her down, already,” Freddie growls. “She’s gonna puke.” Freddie Call was the assigned Troop Commander on Night Searcher when we left. He, Shawna, and Athena came with me. The time off ship has been good for them, but neither of them benefited from the relaxed, country life of Angus’ house. They stayed there for a week then claimed they needed to “get their freaky on” in more populated areas. The gods only know how many guys they’ve bedded. Freddie has gone back to wearing his black leather, and he still makes it look good. Thug mixed with fashion plate.

  “So, my little Sonia,” Shawna asks as she sets me down and holds me at arm’s length, “did you stay at the big drafty house or did you light some young man’s world on fire?” Shawna is making her own statement in a yellow halter-top and hot pants so short they could be more accurately called a belt. She takes me by the hand and we walk through the terminal to the private berths. Through a window I see what I presume to be the Messenger courier that we’ll be taking to Atlas. The ship is very sleek; its lines practically scream speed. I know though that outside an atmosphere the actual shape of the ship is immaterial as there’s nothing to push out of the way. But even so, I like looking at this ship.

  “You’ll be ashamed of me, I stayed with Angus until we left this morning. I haven’t even been leered at properly until I saw you.”

  “I’m happy to help you with that, I know, I know, you’re ‘straight.’” She makes the quote signs with her fingers. “I’m just letting you know the decision is yours.” Freddie elbows Shawna to one side.

  “Hey, Boss. You’re looking good. Did you color your hair? I don’t remember the red being that deep. While Shawna is drying off her chin, I’ll give you the low down. The ship, Star Chaser, will leave Atlas for Goliath 48 hours after we get there. Three days after reaching Goliath to load cargo and stuff we leave for deep space. Final destination is to be announced. So while you three are pawing over each other, I’m going to go get a cup of proper coffee while I have the opportunity. With any luck, you’ll have all your baggage aboard the courier before I get back.”

  “Hey, while you’re going,” I call after him, “can you bring me one too?”

  “Can I? Yes. Will I? Probably not.”

  Some things never change. While he’s gone we actually do get my baggage, such as it is, into the courier. There’s not much room left in the cargo hold, it looks like both of them have picked up more than a few new possessions since I saw them last. Just as Athena bolts the cargo hatch closed, Freddie walks up. “Ah, you are finished. Shawna, if you’d be so good to pilot us back to Atlas?” He enters the courier, sits down, straps up, drains his coffee cup, leans his seat back and pulls his cap over his eyes.

  Shawna looks at me incredulously. “I guess that since his highness is ready, it’s time to leave. Ladies, if you’ll board?”

  We all enter the courier and Athena secures the hatch.

  Habit overrides fashion. Shawna pulls a flight suit over her “take me” attire. Within five minutes we have a departure clearance. Twenty minutes after that we are on our way to Atlas.

  Like most pilots, Shawna has a distrust of AutoPilot at the genetic level. The computer has control of the small ship, and even under “manual” control, a significant percentage of piloting activities are actually automated. With the ship flying autonomously, Shawna leans back and catnaps, but I don’t think she’s clinically sleeping.

  “Hey, handsome,” I punch Freddie in the arm. “I have a question for you.”

  “If it’s ‘how long will I last after waking you?’ I’d guess about thirty seconds.” He’s so surly if he doesn’t get his eight hours. I don’t feel like rising to his bait though.

  “If you had a suit of Strike Armor that could bend light around you, making you difficult to see and almost impossible to target, would you be willing to trade some of the strength of the armor? Like downgrading penetration protection from 22mm to 7mm. If engaged, you’d be less likely to survive, but at the same time you’d be less likely to be engaged.”

  He squints his eyes and looks at me, his head cocked to one side. “Typically, usually, most of the time and almost always it’s not the size of the projectile, but the velocity. So if the impact force could be directed away…oh, right. Yeah, I’d be okay with that. I’d want a little more guarantee than ‘less likely.’ I’d prefer, ‘active sighting systems would not lock on to you.’ Can you deliver that?”

  “Not at this time,” I’ve known him too long to lie about it. “But I can add that to the specification research queue. I was thinking it would be used in a scout/recon type role. You’d want to be able to move quickly and stealthily. The direct combat guys, the slug throwers, would wear the more conventional armor. If there’s a way to direct the impact force around the armor, rather than try to stop it and absorb it I don’t know what it is. But I will look into it and get back to you. Okay, if you’ll stop jabber jawing, I’m going to get some sleep myself.” Oh, the look I get from him before I close my own eyes.

  In three days we fall out of Transit at Atlas, as usual, the space around the planet is quite busy with traffic, interplanetary and interstellar. Shawna points at a blip on the local traffic monitor. “There it is, our home for the next eighteen months.” A label pointing at the blip reads Star Chaser. I reach over Shawna's shoulder and tap the call out. A screen to my right fills with the basic data on the vessel. In a matter of minutes, we are within visual range of what we saw on the monitor.

  There are four 200-ton cutters loading supplies, personnel and who knows what else on the largest starship I’ve ever seen in my life. Night Searcher was big; Azazeel’s cruiser was huge. This ship is larger than both of them together. Looking out the viewport, I had mistaken it for an asteroid or a moon. I'm still digesting the data on the ship as we are given landing instructions. The speaker grille of the ship’s holoCom crackles. “Courier Star Chaser 9, this is Star Chaser, you are cleared for ingress, starboard forward.”

  “Star Chaser, this is courier 9, ingress, starboard forward, aye.” Shawna answers. “Okay, you,” she says to me, “this isn’t a peep show. Get out of my office or drop a credit in the jar.” I move back to the passenger area while Shawna pilots the ship to the designated hangar bay. Night Searcher had a deck dedicated to small craft. I could tell by looking at it through the viewport that Star Chaser has multiple hangars. I’m pretty sure that an entire fighter squadron, possibly multiple squadrons, could be berthed, launched,
and recovered by this one ship. I’m reminded of that time, it seems like decades ago, or a day, when I stepped out of Balder onto the deck of Night Searcher.

  A young woman in a yellow blouse and black skirt meets us at the hatch. “Welcome back, Miss Landers, Mr. Call. Welcome aboard Miss MacTaggert. You and your aide will be housed in area four, and your workstation will be in section Z. I am Purser’s Mate III Stapleton. But please call me Annabella. One of my tasks is to make your stay here as pleasant as possible. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know. Passenger maps for Star Chaser can be downloaded from the Casual Communication page.”

  I pull out my perCom and navigate to the casCom page. The map icon is very prominent. I select it and the maps begin loading to my handheld unit almost immediately. There’s also an incoming call for me. “Excuse me,” I tell Annabella. I turn away to take the call. “Sonia MacTaggert.”

  “Good morning, ma’am. My name is Taylor Andrews. I saw your patent announcement recently. Congratulations on your design. I have a manufacturing facility and I’m prepared to offer you two million credits for production rights. When would be convenient for us to do the paperwork?”

  I knew it was going to be lucrative, I didn’t expect this much this soon. However… “I’m afraid we can’t. In time I will be issuing provisional licenses for production, but that time is not yet. I will make note of your number and contact you at the appropriate time.”

  “I see. Would twenty million change your mind? I can wire you six today, the balance within 48 hours.” A tenfold increase? Wow!

  “I’m sorry, sir, but my mind is made up. I’m afraid I really have to go now.” I need to help unload my baggage.

  “All right, the licensing fee, what will that be?” he asks.

  Maybe I can raise a barrier high enough to dissuade him. “At this point I’m not really sure. I’m still evaluating, but the license is probably going to be a non-refundable million credits until your manufacturing quality can be evaluated. Once approved the license would be renewed annually for…maybe 50,000 credits provided your facility passes the recurring audits. What I don’t have figured out yet is a way to inspect your product to verify that it meets my standards. I’m about to leave on an expedition. I expect to have at least a timetable in place on my return. I’ll contact you then. Goodbye.” I thumb the disconnect button. I dislike having to be rude like that, but Shawna, Freddie and Athena are waiting for me at the cargo hold. And my resolve was weakening. Twenty million is a lot of money. Shawna has pulled out several bags. Freddie has looped his arms through the carrying straps for two duffle bags and has a weapon case in each hand. Athena has her luggage and mine. I glance at Shawna and tell Athena, “I can carry mine, help Shawna with her bags.”

  “As you wish, ma’am,” Athena replies and grabs the largest of Shawna’s trunks.

  “Thanks, baby,” Shawna says.

  Chapter 4

  A different woman in a similar yellow and black uniform stops us at the door from the hangar deck. After verifying our identities she asks, “Is she with your party?” she’s pointing at Athena. “I don’t have her on my list,” she says referring to a handheld computer.

  Shawna speaks up, “I don’t understand, Boss, I know I told them to put her on the manifest.”

  I speak to the Purser’s assistant, “We all have working passage, is there a billet for a Debi class android? She is quite capable of combat, operations, and medicine. In fact, she can do practically anything. If necessary, I’m happy to pay for her passage but if she’s employed I’d like the fare returned. And your counterpart, Annabella Stapleton, had her on the list she referenced when we boarded.”

  “I will have to investigate the passage issue. She can stay with you for the moment. Your stateroom has one bed but a chair does recline. I will list her as ‘traveling companion, fare pending’ while I investigate the working passage. Will that be acceptable, ma’am?”

  “That will be fine, of course if any problems jump up I’m sure you’ll notify me immediately. Is there perchance a welcome packet or some such in my room? I need to learn my way around and learn how and where to find my boss, things like that.”

  “Your room’s holoCom has an introductory briefing loaded to it as well as a directory and organizational chart.”

  She allows us to pass. Entering the ship proper, it’s like walking into a shopping mall or something similar. I’ve grown accustomed to corridors, exposed conduit, doors and bulkheads aboard a starship, but this is completely different. There is an actual atmosphere here, it would be impressive if the interior of the ship were built as compartments, but these aren’t compartments they’re buildings; separate, independent, freestanding structures. Standing right here there’s a beautiful copse of trees interspersed with shrubs and grass, I’m not sure but I think there are bees, too. Looking across the yard (if there’s another word to describe it, it must be “garden”) the buildings are four stories tall. My reverie is interrupted by my perCom trilling, I have a text message from the Personnel section alerting me to a meeting in Area A at 0600, in the Chief Engineer’s office. It’s 1900 now.

  Shawna turns to me, “Hey, Sonia, give me a holler when you get settled. I’m slotted as an SDB pilot, I know some of the other pilots and let me tell you, they are some prime specimens of the male of our species.”

  Freddie chimes in, “If you like the arrogant, pretty-boy, know-it-all type they will do. But I wouldn’t want to depend on them in a bar fight.”

  “SDB?” Again, I’m probably the only person on the ship who doesn’t know what that is.

  “System Defense Boat. It’s sort of like a fighter on anabolic supplements. It’s bigger than a fighter but smaller than a destroyer.” Shawna replies.

  “I’ll call you,” I tell her, “but I can’t make any promises. You know me, I’ll be busy until my boss says I can take a breather.” We shoulder our bags and start walking towards the dormitory areas. “Shawna, the scenery here is truly beautiful, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she nods. “You might not want to be the first to go running through it naked. Just wait until you see someone else doing it before going all wood nymph, that’s just my opinion.”

  “It’s like she knows you,” Freddie says to Shawna. She puts down a bag long enough to punch him in the shoulder. We all set out to our staterooms. It takes us about an hour to empty our suitcases and move what we brought with us into the various cabinets, closet and drawers. There’s also a small safe in which I store the gifts Captain Prowse bequeathed to me before I left Night Searcher: The digital copy of the Tome of the Ancients, the psionic amplification amulet, and the microfilament saber. I sit in the lounge chair and Athena starts the orientation presentation. It runs for an hour and directs us to several documents we can download from the Star Chaser casCom site. There's a message in my inbox stating Athena’s working passage has been approved much to my delight. I’m assigned to the Transit drives in area Z and Athena will be assigned to the Medical section in area Q. She is capable of so much more, but they can always use more doctors. It’s getting late, so I set the alarm for 0500, so I can get some breakfast. It would not do to show up with a grumbling tummy on the first day.

  Chapter 5

  After breakfast I follow the map I downloaded from the casCom to Section Z, then to an office labeled Chief Engineer’s Office Section Z and knock. A deep, raspy voice yells, “Enter!” so I push the door open. There’s a big bear of a man seated behind what appears to be a wooden desk. The smoke from the cigar clenched in his teeth coils in the air of the office, idling towards the air return for the air conditioning system. He stands as we make eye contact. “Oh, good morning, Missy. This here’s Engineering, maybe I can help you get reoriented, which department are you looking for?” Why do men never think I could possibly be an engineer? Sometimes I wish I looked more like a baboon.

  “Good morning,” I extend my hand towards his, “my name is Sonia MacTaggert. I’ve signed on as the new Engineering assist
ant. Are you Roy?” I remember his face from the briefing presentation on the holoCom, but it’s always nice to verify what one thinks one knows. “And pardon me for asking, but I saw ‘KOA’ behind your name. What does that mean?” It could be “Knights of Atlas” but he doesn’t strike me as the sort.

  “Yes’m, I’m Roy. KOA means ‘King of the Acronyms.’ You sure are a pretty li’l thing. But do you know the difference between a crescent wrench and a plasma coil? This is a workin’ department, Missy. We ain’t got the time to train nobody.”

  “I don’t know what you’ve heard,” I tell him, “but I don’t need training, I was cleaning plasma induction grids when you were still peaking in the female showers and giggling. Before I left my last ship, I was the head of the Engineering department. I think I’ve got the requisite skills.”

  A tall woman with a long braid cascading to her waistline walks in. She is very beautiful but is not the warmest of people. And if her manicure is any indication, she lives by the unwritten regulation that prohibits her from manual labor. She wastes no breath on pleasantries. “You must be MacTaggert, thank you for being on time. I am Loreena DuQuois, Chief Engineer of Section Z. Your dossier did not get forwarded to me. Have you a resume or some such in your perCom you can send to me?”

  I pull my perCom from my pocket and tap the appropriate buttons to attach my resume to an email addressed to Chief Engineer, Section Z, Star Chaser. “On its way, ma’am.” She has her perCom in hand, her right toes are tapping, her left hand on her hip, waiting. Prima Donna? With an attitude like that, you’d have had the dirtiest job I could find on Night Searcher, sister! I hope Balder will help me guard my tongue. I have a very bad feeling about working for her. And I may be getting on her bad side right now. “Ma’am, I have some projects I’d like to discuss with you. I’m prepared to work on them in my personal time, of course. But I would like access to a workshop every now and again. I believe they will benefit our mission.”