Alpha Centauri: The Story Episode 9

Journey to Centauri : Episode 9

"Where is Doctor Yang? He should have arrived by now." Garland's question, not directed at anyone in particular but not quite rhetorical, floated into the confines of the command module. He ran his finger around his collar...it seemed to be getting hot as the tension on the ship increased.

A new Ensign, Martchenko, had taken Khosa's place at the science console. He spoke up quickly.

"That is correct, Captain." He punched up a schematic of the ship, got a highlight of Yang's cell. "Cryobay three, cell 457. Open."

"Then where did he go?"

"Where indeed?" came the voice, laced with the hiss of static, coming from the comm unit unbidden.

"Trace it!" shot Garland, then crossed to the communication console. "Sender, this is Captain Garland. Identify yourself." Saratov had frozen, reading the situation, trying to force this turn of events into logical structures that left little room for human ambiguity. Garland stopped watching him, refocused on the voice.

"This is Corazon Santiago, Captain, of the security staff. Dr. Yang is with me." Garland's hand lifted to the insignia on his uniform as he scanned back through the ship's rosters. Santiago...the woman's voice sounded smooth, commanding, brusque...elegant yet strangely flat.

The touchscreen at the comm console flickered and changed to a dossier: name, Corazon Santiago, a minor security functionary under Dr. Yang. A Lieutenant, placed in charge of a division of men and women, about a hundred, for no immediately apparent reason. She had stern features, light brown skin...born in Puerto Rico and moved to Mexico City, then finally ended up in New Los Angeles. All violent places now, riddled with gang fights, fires, riots...par for the course in the last days of Earth.

Deep brown eyes stared at him defiantly from the digitized picture.

"As you may know by now I was released from the cryosleep by a self-executing agent placed into your system by a...friend back on Earth. I and fifty of my companions are members of the Spartan Coalition...do you know of us?"

In a small panel a printout of her words spooled...Garland highlighted Spartan Coalition and punched up a link. "'A group of radical survivalists based in Los Angeles with extensive political connections. Determined to secure the survival of humanity during the increasing chaos of the late 21st century.' Sounds like you're just one of us."

She laughed. "I assure you I mean you no harm. I and my people only intended to be given a fair share of the ship's supplies and placed on a deserted section of Planet to pursue our own destiny."

"And how does that differ from the rest of us? Do you question our will to survive? Why would you need to alter the ship's records and endanger the mission for that?"

"Look around, Captain. This mission stinks of politics under a veneer of idealism. We crave survival, pure and simple, and this focus gives us power. We wish to play out our destinies on our own terms."

The Captain's eyes flickered rapidly as he tried to absorb her demands and determine the danger to the ship and its thousands of sleeping crew.

"Then why contact me now? If your only goal is survival in its purest form, why can't you pursue that as easily on this ship or on Earth itself?" A pause. "You must realize by now that the ship is off course. If we do not repair it within 34 hours, we will overshoot the Centauri system and be unable to return for decades." Another pause. Reading the silence. "You can't fix the ship alone. We're in this together."

When her voice came back he could hear the anger in it, the violence boiling beneath the surface. "I want no philosophical debates with you, Captain. Our course is firm. Fix the ship if you must, but with our presence discovered we must take steps to protect our position. Nothing else matters, and we will survive because of it."

"Because of a single-minded focus that jeopardizes the mission?"

"Exactly because of that." He could feel a cold satisfaction humming through the commlink. Pravin Lal shook his head; they could all feel the finality in her voice.

"Then what do you want?"

"I'm sending one of my representatives to the command bay. We will discuss it further then."

"We can not allow a...mutinous crewmember in the command bay."

"You can, Captain. I am telling you that you can. Do not seal the lift or we will begin picking off engineering crew one by one."

Garland heard a Russian curse cut the air like acid. Garland thought furiously...what do they have? How many are there?

He had to buy time.

"Very well, Corazon. Send your representative, and leave the maintenance crew unmolested."

"Do not call me by my first name, Captain. Remain in the command bay; we will see you shortly." The transmission ended. Captain Garland crossed to Lal.

"Where is she?"

"The communication originated from a storage room off of cryobay three, the bay where both she and Dr. Yang slept."

"A large part of the security team is in there." He paced once across the bay, once back. "Determine how many they have..."

"Of course, Captain." Pravin switched back to a formal mode of address as the crisis deepened.

Garland turned to Ensign Martchenko. "Get this Santiago's dossier. And hurry the check on that armory log thread. We need to know if they have weapons."

The young ensign began clicking the touchpanel frantically. Garland let out a deep breath and looked down at the security matrix. Several cameras were out now, or the rooms they observed remained dark. Systematic sabotage, or circuits worn down from the long journey?

"Do you think they'll attack? How serious are they?" he asked quietly. More half-rhetorical questions. Captain Garland looked up to the low ceiling of the command mod, where the United Nations star seal had been etched into the metal. The damaged ship...

He turned to the science console. "Commander Saratov, we must..."

But the gaunt Russian was nowhere in sight. Saratov was gone.

Ship's Transmission,
Prokhor Saratov

The conflict with the mysterious insurgents has jeopardized my engineers' ability to repair the ship in good time. All here are consumed with the immediate conflict, but I keep my eyes to the new world, always.

The Captain may order my people into battle, and I must prepare for this. I will not be caught off guard.

Check out Santiago's faction profile.

Next episode.