Jatouche (Pyreans Book 3)

by S. H. Jucha

  “How do we get in?” Tanner asked.

  “Don’t worry, Captain,” Bryan replied. “We’ll meet you outside the tunnel. But, we’ll be teaching you how to enter the dome, access the rooms, and feed yourselves.”

  “Is that necessary?” Tanner asked.

  “Captain Harbour’s orders, sir,” Pete replied.

  “Jameson here,” the med tech said. “Once we reach the dome’s deck, what’s the plan?”

  “Captain Harbour has requested we accompany the injured through the gate, and we’re happy to do that,” Olivia replied.

  “What about my med team?” Jameson asked.

  “Not this time,” Olivia said. “Only the twenty the Splendid Metal is carrying and the three of us go on this trip.”

  “Understood,” Jameson replied.

  The engineers could hear the relief in the med tech’s voice. If required, he’d stay with his patients, but he wasn’t anxious to travel through a Q-gate to an alien world.

  When questions were exhausted, Tanner ended the comm call.

  The engineers regarded one another. It was Pete who expressed their common thought. “I expected the Jatouche would be here by now.”

  “Remember, it’s Kractik who knows these consoles intimately,” Olivia volunteered. “Maybe she could determine the arrival date of the ship.” Unfortunately, Olivia’s tone lacked assurance.

  That evening the engineers unpacked their gear, laying out their vac suits.

  “Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Pete moaned. “We have no way to charge our tanks.”

  Bryan looked at his tanks, lying at his feet, “And when was the last time we charged them?” he asked.

  Olivia knelt next to hers and checked the readout. “Mine indicate full,” she said.

  When Pete replied that his were full too, Olivia glared at him.

  “Yeah, I know,” Pete said, raising his hands in protest. “Check them out first before I panic everybody.”

  The engineers slept, rose, used the facilities, ate, and climbed to the deck. They walked into a hive of activity. Jatouche medical services teams were arriving in groups. A mechanical bot was picking up tanks and depositing them on the deck, and then a tech would control the tank’s carrier and direct it out of the way.

  Kractik hurried over to them. “Olivia, Pete, and Bryan, we’re here,” she said exuberantly.

  “I can see that,” Olivia replied. “Are you planning to perform the medical services here?”

  Kractik frowned until she figured out what might have initiated Olivia’s question. “Oh, no, we’re following the precautions laid out by Zystal. These are transfer tanks for severely injured individuals. After the initial investigation, each of the eighteen clients will be transferred to these.”

  Ristick hurried over to the group. He asked anxiously, “Have you spoken to the ship recently?”

  “Yes,” Bryan replied. “The eighteen injured are stable, but they’ve had problems with three. They had to jumpstart them.”

  Ristick ducked his head and touched his ear wig. Then he looked at Kractik for help, and she shook her head. “Please clarify, Bryan. What was done to them?”

  “When their heart stopped, an electrical charge was applied across the chest to restart it,” Olivia explained.

  The engineers watched Ristick’s eyes widen in shock.

  “I think Jaktook did explain to Zystal that our medical technology isn’t comparable to yours,” Pete said defensively.

  Kractik nudged the medical director, who quickly closed his mouth and apologized for his response. He looked toward the console, and Kractik caught the hint. She hurried over to it and checked the disposition of the Pyrean ship.

  “It’s making orbit,” Kractik announced.

  “Good timing,” Ristick said approvingly. He began shouting commands to his teams, who collected their gear and tanks, moving them toward the ramp.

  “How can we help?” Bryan asked.

  “We will stage our stabilization tanks on the second level near the exit door,” Ristick explained. “If the three of you could facilitate the transfer from the surface through the doors, it would save my team having to deal with suits.”

  “We can do that,” Olivia acknowledged.

  For the next several hours, equipment was staged, and Ristick reviewed his expectations with the medical services teams. The engineers were surprised to note the extent of the Jatouche party that arrived. It constituted eighteen tanks, seven transfer bots, a medical director, and sixty medical techs.

  In a private moment, Pete whispered to his companions, “Do you get the feeling that Her Highness wants the captain really badly?”

  “Um, yeah,” Bryan whispered, “as in no request by the captain is too small or too big.”

  Kractik opened a comm connection to the Splendid Metal and left it open. Anyone within earshot of the console could hear the bridge call.

  Hours passed, as the engineers lounged on the deck. They heard Tanner’s voice announcing, “The shuttle is departing.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” Pete replied, having been the first to reach the console.

  Drigtik kept her muzzle closed. Without training, humans were unaware that they could speak from anywhere on the deck and the console would transfer their voice clearly.

  “Are all twenty aboard?” Olivia asked.

  “Affirmative,” Tanner replied. “Eighteen are in transfer tubes, and the other two are mobile, wearing vac suits. There was only room for one rover.”

  There was some swearing in the background, which the engineers couldn’t discern.

  Tanner came back on the comm and said, “I intended to drop the second shuttle with more crew and another rover, but I’m told there’s a reaction mass flow warning. My engineers will need several hours to troubleshoot the problem.”

  “How many crew aboard the shuttle?” Pete asked.

  “Only six med techs, a rover driver, two crew members, and two mobile spacers with prosthetics,” Tanner replied. “The pilot has to remain with the shuttle, as you know. Each transfer tube with equipment and injured takes four individuals to load and unload.

  Bryan did some quick calculations. Looking at his companions, he said, “If Pete and I assist at this end with the rover, Captain, you can leave eight individuals at the shuttle.”

  “That would help,” Tanner replied. “Are the Jatouche ready?”

  “They’re here in numbers,” Olivia replied, her voice reflecting her confidence.

  “Well, my crew and the med techs will do their best. After that, it’s all in your hands,” Tanner said. “Will I get an update?” he added.

  “Doubtful, Captain, but we’ll try,” Olivia said.

  The engineers hurried below to the third level and donned their vac suits. When they returned to the second level, the med techs were standing beside their tanks, which lined the corridor from the inner airlock door to the ramp. Several Jatouche stood at the exit door to assist the transfers.

  Olivia explained that her companions would support the unloading of the transfer tubes from the rover and through the airlock.

  “How many can the rover transfer?” Ristick asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Pete replied. “I would guess four tubes at most.” His fellow engineers nodded their agreement.

  “Olivia, I task you with a critical portion of this operation,” Ristick said. “I must have an accurate transfer of the name, injuries, and status of each client. This information must correlate between our tanks and my log.” He waved his tablet to illustrate where his data was kept.

  “Understood,” Olivia replied, although she wasn’t sure how she was going to accommodate the process.

  Kractik communicated updates to the Jatouche and the Pyreans. She told them when the shuttle touched down, when the rover began its trek across the surface, and when it neared the dome.

  It was bright outside, when Pete and Bryan cycled through the airlock. They’d expected to have to direct the rover to the entrance
, but the driver was unerringly following the tracks of the many rover trips made by other parties.

  With no fanfare or time wasted in greeting, the two engineers helped two med techs unload a tube and place it on the deck of the airlock. The woman was conscious and staring up at them through the clear material. Pete gave her a little wave, and she smiled weakly. After three more transfers, the rover driver set off at top speed for another load.

  Pete cycled the airlock, and Olivia was faced with her first problem. Luckily, Bryan thrust a comm unit in her hand. It was locked open.

  “This is Jameson’s,” Bryan said. “It has the medical files in it. They’re coded to the transport tubes.”

  Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. She tapped the comm unit to the metal tag on the top of the tube, and a patient’s information came up. “Ready,” she said to Ristick, who nodded to the first medical services team.

  Pete taught the Jatouche how to shut off the tube’s air supply, release its seals, and crack it open. There was a great deal of chittering, as the first team relayed the instructions to the other groups. Olivia stood next to Ristick and read off the medical information he required.

  When Olivia finished, Ristick ordered various services, and the med team delivered them. Soon, the woman, the first patient, was asleep and transferred to a tank. Supports were attached to arms and legs to keep her position steady. Then the Jatouche medical team directed the tank toward the ramp, where the transfer bot would manage the load up the incline.

  In quick order, the next two injured were processed. For the fourth individual, Ristick paused when he heard the medical information. Olivia noted that the injured spacer was Nelson Barber, the Splendid Metal’s first mate. Ristick personally examined the spacer and attached a device to the bare skin over the man’s heart. Then the next med team transferred the sleeping spacer.

  Olivia was conflicted, wondering if she should have accompanied the first group of injured, who were already on deck and might have already been sent to Rissness. However, she couldn’t abandon her present duties. So, she quickly dismissed the notion.

  It took four more trips of the rover to complete the transfer of the eighteen injured, and Dillon and Tracy rode alongside the last two tubes.

  Bryan spoke to the rover driver, Jameson, and a second med tech over his comm and requested that they accompany Pete and him inside. They paused at the entrance and showed everyone how to navigate the dome’s airlock.

  Jameson and the Pyrean med tech watched in awe as their last two patients were sedated and immersed into tanks of liquid without oxygen masks.

  “You’d have to see this to believe it,” Jameson whispered.

  Olivia regarded the two spacers with prosthetics and introduced herself. Then she said to Bryan and Pete, “I’m taking these two to the platform deck. You need to introduce these three to the glyph system and the accommodations on the third level.”

  Olivia steadily regarded each of the three men from the mining ship and said, “Use your comm units to take images of the glyphs and make notations about what they do. As you can see,” she added, gesturing around her, “there’s no shortage of them.”

  By the time Olivia reached the platform deck, the director, the medical teams, and the tanks, with patients, were gone. The transfer bots were standing idly to the side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Kractik waiting for her.

  Dillon and Tracy dropped their duffels, and Olivia introduced them to the console tech.

  “I’m pleased to greet you,” Kractik replied pleasantly.

  Dillon frowned at the odd chittering noises, but Tracy said, “And I’m pleased to meet you. Thank you for what you’re doing for us.”

  Kractik flashed her teeth in surprise, and Olivia leaned to the side to spot the ear wig Tracy wore, which she’d retrieved from Jameson.

  Soon the group from below deck trooped up the ramp, and Bryan walked them through the process of connecting to the Splendid Metal. The three men from the mining ship wore glazed expressions, as if they had seen more than they could process.

  “Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Olivia asked sympathetically.

  Pete didn’t give the men a chance to reply. “Test time,” he announced. Then he asked each of them to show him on their comm units the glyph to access the third level and the glyph to access the room. They passed Pete’s test.

  “My turn,” Bryan announced. He had reset the panel to the main menu, while the men weren’t looking. “Now, call your captain.”

  Immediately, the med techs looked at the rover driver, who grumbled, “Great.” He eyed the panel and then accessed his comm unit. He’d taken several still images, as Bryan had worked through the menus. Eventually, he touched the icon for his ship, and a smile spread across his face when Captain Flannigan answered the comm call.

  “We’re happy to report, Captain, that all eighteen severely injured were successfully transferred to the Jatouche. They’ve already departed,” Jameson said.

  “Excellent news,” Tanner replied. “What’s next?”

  “This is Olivia, Captain. The last of us will be leaving, momentarily. We’ve shown your people the basics of the dome so that they or other crew members can maintain themselves here if it’s required.”

  “Olivia, please convey my respects to Her Highness Tacticnok. Whether the Jatouche are able to save all our people or not, I want her to know that I deeply appreciate her efforts.”

  “I’ll convey your sentiments, Captain, when I’m able,” Olivia replied. She ended the call.

  Pete slapped the rover driver on the shoulder and said, “So, are you going to stay a while and enjoy the comforts of the dome?”

  The rover driver looked stricken. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “We’re leaving now.”

  There was a bit of a race between Jameson, the rover driver, and the second med tech, as to who could get down the ramp quickest.

  “There’s no accounting for taste,” Pete quipped.

  “Ready?” Kractik asked. It wasn’t an offhand question. She was looking at Tracy.

  “We are,” Tracy replied resolutely.

  “This way,” Bryan said, walking toward the gate.

  Kractik waited until the group had ascended the platform, and then she tapped the icon for the transfer and hurried to join them for the journey to Rissness.

  -10-

  Envoy

  Harbour was notified by Dingles when the Jatouche medical teams arrived in the Triton dome, and she’d watched the transfer of the Pyrean injured through the gate. She kept an eye on the proceedings via her comm unit, while she went about the ship’s business.

  As ordered by Harbour, Birdie sent a Pyre-wide notice to citizens to check the JOS channel that carried the dome console’s deck view.

  Seeing twenty Pyreans delivered to the Jatouche for medical care convinced Harbour that accepting the envoy position was a worthy course.

  Pausing to watch Kractik join the final group of individuals on the platform and the gate to send them to Rissness, Harbour whispered to herself, “Now, I have to find something of worth to the Jatouche to ensure these services continue for our people.”

  It also occurred to Harbour that the number of Pyreans who could benefit from rehabilitation was a significant portion of the topsider population. At a pace of twenty citizens per half annual, it would take decades to service them all.

  At the moment, the YIPS was pumping dry the slush-containing tanks of the Belle and the Pearl. Jessie had the Spryte and the Marianne, aka the Annie, dock at the YIPS too, rather than proceed to the JOS for downtime, which set the crews abuzz with rumors.

  Aurelia tapped lightly on the captain’s door, which was open, and Harbour motioned her inside.

  “Take a seat,” Harbour said, walking around her and closing the door. “Do you remember when I told you that your education, while you were trapped in Andropov’s home, was severely limited, and you needed to find opportunities to broaden your horizon?”

  “Yes,�
�� Aurelia replied. She was sitting comfortably in the plush salon chair, no longer a nervous teenager, but a confident young woman.

  “Are you ready for an adventure?” Harbour asked. She opened her gates wide to read Aurelia’s emotions. In the silence, while Aurelia considered the question, Harbour sensed touches of anxiety and sadness, but they were overshadowed by excitement.

  “Does this have something to do with you accepting Tacticnok’s offer?” Aurelia asked.

  “It might,” Harbour hinted, “but I want to know how you feel about a change.”

  “I’d miss the crew of the Annie,” Aurelia admitted, “but lately I’ve been considering my future.”

  “And,” Harbour prompted.

  “The spacers were my first place of refuge,” Aurelia said. “For that, I can’t ever thank them enough. But I’ve been wondering if I want to remain a spacer, attend officer training programs, and work toward a captaincy. The answer I came up with was no.”

  “So, what do you want?” Harbour asked.

  “The Jatouche have changed everything,” Aurelia replied. “I want to be part of opening Pyre to these new worlds. I was disappointed when I heard the debate about who would accompany you. There’s no room on your team for a lowly spacer and a downside escapee, at that.”

  Harbour felt Aurelia’s turmoil. The two women were communicating empath to empath, and Aurelia wasn’t withholding her emotions.

  “There might be a need for a vac suit qualified individual,” Harbour said quietly, and Aurelia’s head snapped up. “I expect four individuals to join us from the station and the domes,” Harbour continued. “You can bet that two of the four, if not more, will not be vac suit qualified.”

  “But I can’t qualify them,” Aurelia objected.

  “I know that,” Harbour pointed out sternly.

  Aurelia belatedly realized her error. Harbour’s time as captain had greatly increased her knowledge of spacer routines.

  “My point, Aurelia, is that if I’m performing my duties as envoy, I don’t have time to keep an eye on a downsider or some stationers who haven’t a clue when to latch on.”