Running With Argentine (15 page)

As nice as his surroundings were, he was still no closer to
finding an inside recommendation to a superstar criminal arbiter.

Reluctantly, Argentine realized that a more direct approach
would be necessary…

“Yes, please sit down,” he responded to the next inquiry.
“But I should tell you that I just want to talk.”

“Sure you do,” she said with what appeared to be a sincere
smile.

“No, really… Anyway, I need some advice. I need to find a
well-connected criminal arbiter. One that knows his or her way around and can
get things done. Can you give me a name? Or maybe point us to someone that
can?”

He couldn’t help but notice that she was still very pretty,
even when frowning in thought… “I wouldn’t know what to tell you. Who did the
guild recommend?”

After a fairly lengthy pause, Argentine said, “You mean
there’s a Criminal Arbiters Guild?”

Platform
12

Not only was
there a Criminal Arbiters Guild on Asperia, but there was an office on every
platform.

It was even open all 22 hours of the Asperian day…

Apparently, criminal activities in this utopia weren't as
uncommon as they would have you believe.

Somehow, Argentine and the lieutenant hadn't made it out of
the Pleasure Palace until closing, around 1800 local time.

They had briefly considered heading over to the nightlife
district but wisely realized it was probably the whiskey talking. So instead,
they'd made their way to the Criminal Defense Arbiters Guild.

For all the good it had done them.

They had spoken to Arbiter Tong at length. He had given them
sage advice and had expounded on the virtues of the Asperian criminal justice
system… All of which boiled down to the conclusion that they were screwed
unless they cooperated with the authorities.

Argentine was in a foul mood as they walked back to the
ship.

All business had long concluded on this part of the
platform; the lighting was dimmed and not a soul was in sight.

He stopped abruptly.

He glanced over to the darkened narrow corridor between two
shops. He was sure he'd just heard a muffled sob, and then… "Last chance,
Porcelain
Man
. Tell us where they are or I'll break the rest your fingers!"

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Argentine made out two
men standing over the huddled form of… a teenage boy?

Maybe the whiskey was still affecting his judgment, or maybe
it had just been that kind of day… Looking back on it, Argentine would never
know for sure. But for whatever reason, sparing only the quickest of glances at
Lieutenant Stark, he sprinted into the dark corridor without a second thought…

ΔΔΔ

Argentine
reached up and tried to move his tooth.

He wasn't sure, but he thought there might be a little wiggle
in it.
Damn, that second son of a bitch could hit hard!

Another thing he wasn't sure of was the appraising look that
Lieutenant Stark was giving him. It was almost as if he was reevaluating his
companion.

At any rate, Argentine had been thankful for his help.

He'd like to think that the reason he’d raced into the
corridor was because it was the right thing to do. But he knew himself well
enough to know it was much more than that. He hadn't lost his temper like this
in years. It wasn't about saving the boy so much as it was him taking out his
frustrations on some deserving punks.

Except the punks had turned out to not be so punkish after
all.

He spit a little blood out of his mouth and said,
"Those guys knew how to fight."

Those guys
were currently lying unconscious and the
lieutenant was kneeling down next to what was, indeed, a teenage boy.

"I'd say they were highly trained," he responded.

"Is he conscious?" Argentine asked as he nodded
down at the boy.

"He will be soon," the lieutenant responded.
"I'm about to set his finger."

He yanked and a loud scream pierced the air.

As soon as he was sure the boy wasn't going to
hyperventilate, Argentine spoke to him, "What did you do to piss off your
friends here?"

Blinking back tears the boy finally said, "They're no
friends of mine. They… Wait! Stop him!"

While the boy had been talking one of the assailants had
scrambled to his feet and was running away.

The best Argentine could tell, the other one was still out
cold.

By now, the boy was sitting up and leaning with his back
against the corridor wall. He was shaking his head back and forth and through
the tears declaring, "What are we going to do? My God, what have I
done?"

It suddenly dawned on Argentine that the boy probably wasn't
as old as he'd first thought.

"Son, how old are you?"

"I'm almost 14," he stammered.

"You're awfully tall for 14," the Lieutenant
remarked.

"I was raised on Aerial," the boy said, as if that
explained everything.

When no one responded he added, "It's a low gravity world."

Talking seemed to be calming the boy down a little so
Argentine continued…

"Now, do you want to tell us why these…
guys
were attacking you?"

"Because we're
Porcelain People
. That's what
they call us because they say our bones are brittle and we can be pushed
around…

"But it's not true! We take supplements and our bones
are almost as hard as anyone else's – and we are proud and strong-willed! No
one pushes us around!"

Argentine grinned, despite himself.

"They hate us," he continued. "They're always
picking on us and now it's getting really bad."

"Look, kid…"

"My name is Nicu."

"Okay, Nicu… You've got to be more careful. If we
hadn't been walking back to our ship…"

"You've got a ship?"

When they didn't respond, he continued…

"You have to save me!" he declared. "Now that
you beat them up they are going to come after me! I'm dead unless you help
me!"

"You don't mean that. Surely you've got a mother? What
would she think?"

"No, you don't understand," the boy said while
starting to tear up again. "They'll be coming after her too! We're all
dead unless you help us!"

"Hold on a second," Lieutenant Stark said as he
placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Just who are these guys and why are you so sure
they'll be coming after you?"

"You didn't know?" the boy asked with wide eyes.

Argentine wasn't sure if the sinking feeling in his gut had
started before or after the boy finished explaining…

"Those guys are Asperian Military. And now that you've
let one of them go… They're going to be looking for payback."

Argentine tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

"Please Mister; you've got to take us with you…"

Without moving he said, "Sure, kid. Why not?"

ΔΔΔ

Argentine had
never before seen Lieutenant Stark angry.

They'd walked back to the ship in silence until the
lieutenant had grabbed his arm in the darkened terminal in front of the
Pelican’s boarding hatch.

"What's wrong, Lieutenant?"

Argentine wasn't sure, but he thought the lieutenant's eyes
were narrowed conspicuously.

"I'm trying to figure out just how big of a mistake I
made teaming up with you," he responded.

"Are you insane…? Or just stupid?"

"Look Lieutenant, I'm really not in the mood. In case
you haven't noticed, it's not been a good day."

"Well, in case you've forgotten,
Captain
… We've
already got the Asperian Police on our backs, and now you've gone and pissed
off the military. What's next? Can we get the firefighters and customs agents
to hate us too?"

"Oh, get off it, Stark! The corridor was dark and I
doubt that military jerk has any idea who we are."

"Maybe or maybe not… But do you really think they're
not going to be able to track that kid and his family back to our ship? What
are we going to do then?"

"You're welcome to jump ship anytime," Argentine
said.

"What? Here? After the hole you just dug us into? I may
be crazy for teaming up with you but I'm not stupid…

"I'll take my leave soon enough, but first we have to
get away from this planet and find someplace that's never heard of us. That's
assuming, of course, that after this they'll even give us permission to
undock."

"What would you have had me do?" Argentine asked
in exasperation. "He was just a kid!"

The lieutenant just shook his head.

"Besides, I doubt very seriously that the kid and his
parents are going to show up. He'll get home and they'll calm him down… We'll
probably never see him again."

ΔΔΔ

"Argentine!"

The intercom sounded again…

"Argentine! Can you hear me?"

"Chief? Is that you?" Argentine asked as he
fumbled to set up in his bed.

"Argentine, you need to get down here."

"What time is it?"

"The terminator hasn't caught up to our orbit yet, so
it's still before sunrise on the platform – but you need to get over here,
now!"

"What…? Where is here?"

"I'm at the terminal-side boarding hatch."

"What's the problem?"

"I've got twenty-seven people here that claim to be a
family you offered passage to…"

Argentine closed his eyes and slowly laid back down…

"Shit," he whispered to no one.

Platform
12

The crew found
themselves once again packed into the ship's mess.

It had been a hectic morning, to say the least. Fortunately,
because the People's Republic of Chezden had believed in multitasking their
space navy's ships, two of their six holds were pressurized. One of them had
even been designed for conversion into a troop barracks.

Or, at least, that's what the ship’s computers said. It
turned out that no one on board had ever seen it set up in that configuration.

The chief, however, had finally figured out where the
bunkbeds and portable toilets were stored. He'd spent the morning supervising
their assembly.

The Petulengro family had been cooperative and eager to
help.

"Nice people," the chief said. "On the one
hand I can tell they're scared to death, but on the other they seem cheerful
enough. There's not a one of them that complained about being put to work and
they didn't even grumble when I told them they would have to learn how to
contribute to the ship's maintenance."

"Now, if you could just get the bloody blokes to
contribute to the ship's food supply everything would be hunky-dory," said
Barry, who'd just recently found out he'd been assigned the secondary duty of
ship's purser.

"Did you ask them?" Argentine wanted to know.

"Of course I did, you bloody fool… Uh, I mean… No
disrespect intended… But yes, I did ask…"

Barry apparently didn't like the expression on Argentine's
face so he hurriedly continued…

"They seemed shocked that I would ask them to
contribute financially and then asked if we were in the habit of holding
refugees hostage and confiscating what few worldly possessions they had
left."

Nobody had an answer for that. Their only response was a
collective sigh.

Argentine had been studiously avoiding the gaze of
Lieutenant Stark.

When they finally locked eyes the room became deathly quiet.
The chief wasn't sure, but Sami would later swear that it was the lieutenant
who first cracked a hint of a smile.

Argentine's glare started contorting on his face… Within a
few moments, the whole crew was laughing. Not just,
ha ha…
But with
holding their sides, leaning on the table, wet-eyed laughter that left them all
but incapacitated.

Once Argentine had caught his breath, but before all the
laughter had subsided, he caught the lieutenant's gaze again. He nodded once.

The lieutenant nodded twice in silent response…

ΔΔΔ

A few hours
later Argentine, the chief, and the lieutenant were gathered in the captain's
cabin.

"We have to get out of here," the chief said.

"I concur," added the lieutenant.

Argentine had been half holding his breath all morning
hoping not to have a visit from the Asperian military. So far, they'd been
lucky; as far as they knew they still had full clearance to come and go as they
pleased.

"We need someplace to go," Argentine mused out
loud.

"Who cares?" said the chief. "It's time to
fly the coop."

"I'm not disagreeing," said Argentine. "But I
want to be as smart as we can about this. The only person here that's really
been friendly to us has been Guildsman Darrin Martin. I'm going to give him a
quick call and see if he can't recommend a destination that might be friendly
to our circumstance."

"You'll be leaving a trail… If the police, or the
military, or anyone else on the planet wants to track us down you will have
left a loose end," grumbled Lieutenant Stark.

Argentine's voice took on a sudden confidence…

"If he doesn't give us a recommendation, there'll be no
thread to follow. If he does, we’ll have a big head start. There aren't any
perfect choices…

"Chief, get the boat ready to sail."

"Yes sir!" said the chief for the first time ever.