Parker's Folly (22 page)

“Well let 'em look, they won't find a thing. I didn't ever buy any radioactive material. Hit 'em with an injunction or something.”

“We have filed multiple requests with the federal district court but these things take time. There will be a preliminary hearing tomorrow in front of Judge Landis.”

“Curly Landis? He's a friend of mine and a good old Texas boy, he'll straighten them federal yahoos out.”

“Yes TK, that's why we filed in his court. But the Air Force claims they detected nuclear radiation coming from your ranch on  at least three occasions. They assert that your missing spaceship is nuclear powered.”

“Do they? Well did they detect any radiation when it took off?”

“They didn't say, Mr. Parker.”

“That's because they didn't, let 'em explain that to the Judge. We can blame the Air Force's alarm bells on cosmic rays or faulty satellites—hell, we just had the biggest solar eruption in a hundred years. Let's see 'em prove I was doing anything illegal.”

“Yes sir, TK. We feel you have a strong case for harassment and should demand sizable reparations.”

“You lawyers always do.”

Susan was sitting by the large viewport watching the lunar surface slip past. She was sipping a cup of the ship's excellent coffee, talking with Ivan Kondratov, who was drinking tea. The Russian Colonel was staring thoughtfully out of the viewport, occasionally taking a sip of his rapidly cooling beverage. Even the normally chatty Susan was in a pensive mood.

“Did you know, Miss Write, that I am the first Russian to orbit the Moon? Along with Lt. Col. Tropsha, of course.”

“I had not thought about that, Colonel. I guess JT and I are the first news reporters to make the trip. And please call me Susan.”

“Yes, sorry. First names are to be used in the mess, you must call me Ivan.” Then shifting tack a bit, he continued. “Do you really believe that your government had no knowledge of this ship before a few days ago? I just can't imagine such a thing happening in my country.”

“Well maybe not, Ivan. But Texas is a big state and West Texas is sparsely populated—I should know, I grew up there. No, I'm pretty sure that the government found out about this spaceship at around the same time we did. In fact, JT and I beat the government agents to TK's ranch.”

“And you were trapped on board when the U.S. Marines stormed the ship?”

“Stormed is a bit too strong an image. We were getting ready to go down the ramp from the passenger door when one of the Marines shot at us. They almost hit JT. Gretchen jerked him back inside and shut the hatch. Then, as far as I can tell, the Marines managed to climb on board through the big cargo hatch just before it shut and the Captain blasted off. Things after that are a bit of a blur.”

“I can imagine. And how did the Captain overcome a squad of armed Marines?”

“I have no idea, but when I was talking to Lt. Bear, he said that the Captain was the most dangerous person on board. I'm not sure what that means.”

“Perhaps I can add something to that,” said Ludmilla Tropsha, walking over to where the pair were conversing. She had just finished doing rounds in sickbay and had come forward looking for coffee and someone to talk with.

“You're wearing white today, Doctor,” remarked the ever fashion conscious Susan, “very fetching.”

“Yes, for some reason when I woke up this morning the ship had produced a white uniform for me instead of blue. I asked the computer why and it said that different parts of the crew wore different color uniforms so they were easier to identify in an emergency—crew is in blue, engineers in orange and Marines in green. Evidently medical personnel are to wear white, since Betty showed up in a white uniform this morning as well.”

“That explains our uniform colors,” Ivan nodded. “It is similar to how the American Navy dresses the flight deck crews on their aircraft carriers.”

“Yes, I think that both the Captain and Lt. Curtis were in the Navy. I think that's where Jack picked up that strange little man they call the Chief. But you said you knew more about the crew subduing the Marines, Ludmilla?”

“Yes, I have been talking with the wounded Marines and they said that the crew used ray guns on them, that and the polar bear. Evidently the crew attacked from all directions at once, with the Captain standing on the ceiling picking the Marines off with bolts of blue light!”

“That he is a former military man is plain,” Ivan remarked with almost grudging admiration.

“Maybe he is the most dangerous man on the ship,” said Susan, thoughtfully.

“I think there is something more to it than that, Susan. The medical corpsman, Betty, said that the Captain was critical of the amount of harm Bear inflicted on one of the Marines. She said that the bear seemed subservient, even a bit afraid of the Captain. What kind of man frightens a 600 kilogram, fully grown male polar bear? I think there may be more to this story than we know.”

“Well I've been trying to get the Captain alone for another interview since we blasted off for parts unknown.” Susan's frustration was palpable.

“That is interesting, Susan,” Ludmilla said, with just a bit of female cattiness, “the Captain has invited me to dine with him in his cabin this evening. Perhaps I will learn something more about this mysterious Jack Sutton.”

“Good luck, Doctor,” Susan replied sweetly. “Perhaps he will respond to you on a more professional level—officer to officer, rather than as a man to a woman.”

Meow,
thought Billy Ray to himself. He had come into the lounge to get some coffee before starting his watch and had been quietly listening to the three new crew members discussing the Captain.
Oh yes, Dr. Tropsha, watch out. That kitty got claws.

The Captain had requisitioned the owner's suite as his own, since TK was unable to make the trip and they had a number of guests on board. The suite lay farthest forward on the lower deck, part of it directly under the Captain's sea cabin. It spanned the full width of the hull and boasted a sitting room, a spacious bed and a private head with shower. Both side walls held large viewports through which the crater pocked surface of the Moon could be seen passing beneath the ship.

The ship also had four guest suites, intended for friends of the owner and other distinguished guests. The Captain had moved Lt. Curtis into the one closest to his and placed the three ISS crew members in the others. This freed his normal cabin and the First Officer's for Susan and JT. With so few crew on board, there was more than enough room for the squad of marines.

A table for two had been set in the sitting room, beneath one of the long windows. White table cloth, china and crystal had been laid out by crewman Hitch, who had worked at one time as a waiter in an upscale Austin eatery.
The perfect setting for a seduction,
the Captain thought.

What he had planned was a seduction of sorts, but not that kind. Things were bound to get dicey in the near future and he wanted to be sure the Doctor was fully on the team. That meant sharing things with the Russian cosmonaut that only a few others knew. Things like what he was really looking for on the Moon.

There came a knock at the cabin door and the computer announced, “Dr. Tropsha is at the door, Captain.”

“I will greet my guest in person, Folly.” Normally, given the Captain's blessing, the computer would open the door and ask the party inside. The Captain, not wishing to come across as too imperious, hurried to greet his guest.

“Good evening, Dr. Tropsha,” he said upon opening the door, “won't you please come in?”

“Why thank you, Captain. My goodness,” she said, looking around the spacious cabin, “and I thought my cabin was luxurious.”

“I'd imagine that, compared with conditions on the space station, even the crew cabins would be a step up,” the Captain allowed. “Would you care for an apéritif?”

“Yes, thank you. I would like a very dry martini, by which I mean a very cold glass of good vodka.” Ludmilla walked over to the  bookcase after she ordered. “So you plan to ply me with liquor, eh Captain? Be warned that Russians are hard drinkers, Russian officers doubly so.”

“Why Doctor, you misjudge me.” The Captain turned to Hitch and said, “make that two vodka martinis, up with no vermouth. Doctor I assume you don't want any olives?”

“Heavens no! What a way to ruin good Vodka.”

“One with and one without Mr. Hitch, if you please.” Hitch nodded and left the room.

“Your Mr. Parker is evidently a well read man, judging by the titles in the bookcase.”

“Hard to say, TK is a knowledgeable man about many things but those may only be for show. I hope that you are finding things on board Parker's Folly comfortable.”

“Oh yes, very much so. Of course I would be happy in a scow if it had rescued me from the ISS. I checked with your Engineer Medina and the radiation levels outside just before we left the station area were high enough that we all would have been dead in under 12 hours. Radiation sickness is a particularly nasty way to die, Captain, so I thank you again for saving us.”

“Both my pleasure and my duty,” the Captain replied. “As the captain of a naval vessel, I am bound by the law of the sea to render aid to another vessel in distress. I am just glad that circumstances put us in a position to help.”

“Yes, you and your amazing ship showed up in, what's the American phrase?
‘
The nick of time.
’ It is fortunate for everyone
that radiation does not seem to penetrate the walls of your ship. The ISS blocked some but not nearly enough.
”

Sensing the implicit question in her words, the Captain decided to take the opening. “Yes, that is among the things I wish to discuss with you over dinner. As you can tell, Folly contains some highly advanced technology, technology not found anywhere else on Earth.”

Indeed Captain,
Ludmilla thought. Just prior to her coming to this cabin she and Ivan had been discussing that exact subject. Ivan insisted that she find out as much as possible about the ship's origins and technology. He claimed that, as Russian officers, it was their duty to return to the motherland with as much information as they could glean about the ship, even hinting that her patriotic duty might include sleeping with the Captain if necessary.

Not that the idea was totally repellant. The Captain was a fine looking man, tall, broad shouldered and handsome. Sandy brown hair, neatly trimmed beard a few shades darker with just a touch of gray at the temples. Those deep brown eyes however, they held secrets.

Breaking her brief, contemplative silence she continued,
“I look forward to hearing all about your ship, Captain, and yourself.”

“Please, we are dining in. Call me Jack.”

“And you must call me Ludmilla. You seem to be most strict in your insistence on military discipline on board.”

“When the crew is on duty, on the bridge or elsewhere. I find it improves efficiency and reduces mistakes. The rules are relaxed in the lounge and mess.”

“But you are always addressed as
‘
captain,
’
even there.”

“A captain is always on duty, Ludmilla. He can never allow his authority to be called into doubt or his subordinates to think that his orders are mere suggestions. I have reason to know from personal experience that discipline aboard ship is not a trivial matter.”

There is pain in his eyes, this lesson he learned at a high personal cost,
she realized.
This man, so friendly and so aloof at the same time, carries hidden scars of his own.
Before she could think of something appropriate to say the crewman returned with their drinks.

“Ah, it looks like our drinks have arrived,” the Captain said with some relief. Taking the drink without olives from Hitch he handed it to her saying “Ludmilla,
dlya vashego zdorovʹya
, for your health.
”

Taking his own from the steward he told the man “you can come back and serve dinner in 15 minutes, Mr. Hitch.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

* * * * *

An hour later, they had finished the main course and were waiting on Hitch to serve dessert—crème brûlée with coffee and brandy to finish. Things had gone well, with both Ludmilla and Jack telling each other about their careers and personal histories. Nothing salacious, just first date, get acquainted stuff. As Hitch departed, Ludmilla looked at Jack and said, “so Jack, you said you were going to explain things to me, about the ship and your mission.”

She's direct, I like that in a woman,
Jack thought before replying, “Yes, I did. I warn you, some of the things I am about to tell you will be hard to accept, but I swear to you I am telling the truth. At least the truth as I understand it.”

Ludmilla leaned back in her chair and turned her head slightly to one side.
Damn, she is an extremely attractive woman
, the Captain finally admitted to himself. The cocktail and bottle of wine with dinner had lowered his inhibitions enough to let suppressed thoughts bubble to the surface.
And that white jumpsuit goes well with her ash-blond hair and fair Slavic complexion. A man could easily lose himself in those blue eyes—whoa Jack, get a grip!

The Captain cleared his voice and focused on the matter at hand. “The story begins over thirty years ago, in the remote wastes of the Arabian Peninsula. A young geologist came across an artifact. Through a series of events never fully explained to me, he managed to bring it back to the United States with him. It turned out that the artifact was both ancient and highly advanced.”

Jack paused, waiting for Ludmilla to object. She remained still, gazing back at him.
Remind me to never play poker with this woman,
he thought, continuing. “The artifact was found to be a  data storage device. Extremely dense, holographically encoded, requiring the use of multiple intersecting laser beams and quantum detection devices to read. I am not a physicist and could not begin to explain the mechanisms at work. But what I can tell you is that, over time, a team of scientists managed to decode a small fraction of the knowledge the device contains.