by R F Hurteau
“Found it!” he cried to Tobias, who came scurrying into view from the other direction. “Down here.”
Please let it be intact, Ripley pleaded silently as he let himself down into the small access port. It was warm here, so close to the condenser. Uncomfortably so. Please let it be intact.
His heart sank as he reached the bottom. The terminal, though protected from the elements above, was completely destroyed.
The heart of the geothermal system was deep beneath the earth. If they couldn’t access it via the terminal, they couldn’t access it at all. He pounded on it, but the display was shattered, rendering it useless.
“Now what?” Tobias called down to him.
“I’m thinking!”
Ripley climbed back out and looked up toward the top of the dome where the condensers disappeared outside.
“There has to be a way. Safeguards, for emergencies, like a system failure. Keep looking.”
He was right. Just out of sight around the condensor’s base, a lever as tall as he was stood at attention, looking forlorn. He gave it a half-hearted tug, knowing just by looking at it that it would be no use. The mechanism didn’t budge. He grasped it firmly and leaned backward, motioning to Tobias to assist. Together they pushed and pulled, narrowly avoiding toppling over as it came away from its housing.
Ripley stood, the metal bar still clasped tightly in both hands, feeling the hope draining from his body as though the lever had pierced him, allowing it to escape.
But he could not afford to give up. Too much rested on their success. Failure wasn’t an option. He slipped the bar over his shoulder, securing it beneath the small rope that served to keep the blanket-cloak in place.
He motioned back toward Pluto. “Ambrose can get me to the vents. I can open them manually.”
“Any emergency mechanism outside the dome has been in a state of disrepair, exposed to horrible conditions, for the last hundred and twenty-five years! Nothing up there is going to function as intended, if it even still exists. Just look what happened to this lever, and it had the benefit of the dome’s protection.”
“All I have to do is get to the vents. We know those still function. I just have to reach them.”
“Are you crazy? That’s suicide! The amount of pressure in these tubes is—is—astronomical! Assuming you can even open the vent, you’ll be blasted with super-heated vapor. Boiled alive!”
“Do you see another option?”
Tobias looked at him, silent for a moment. “We could just...fly away?” he suggested weakly.
Ripley shook his head. “I can’t let all those innocent people die. Not if there’s a chance to save them. And the longer we stand here talking, the less of a chance we have. So, let’s go.”
They returned to the ship, Tobias moving slower than before. As they boarded Pluto, Ripley knelt down beside Felix.
“Take us out through the breach, Ambrose,” he called over his shoulder. “We need to get to the top of the condenser tubes.”
“Roger that,” came Ambrose’s reply, and Ripley felt the strange sensation of the ship rising straight up from the ground.
“So, what’s the plan?” Felix’s apprehension was evident. Ripley shifted his weight as the little aircraft changed direction.
“The terminal was destroyed. But I think I can open the vent manually.”
Felix’s gaze darted to Tobias, who was fidgeting and didn’t make eye contact. “And you think this will work?”
Tobias grimaced and nodded. “It will work.”
“So then why do you both look like someone just died?” Felix demanded, sitting up taller and glaring at Ripley. “What are you not telling me?”
Ripley closed his eyes. “When I say manually, I mean manually. I’m going to have to pull them open by hand.”
“So?” Felix pressed. “What does that mean? You hop out, you pull a lever, you climb back in the ship and we high-tail it out of here. Right?”
Ripley sighed. “Not exactly,” he admitted, biting his lip and tasting the bitterness of his next words. “I’m going to have to get inside the top of the condenser in order to open it.”
Felix had started shaking his head before Ripley even finished speaking. “No. Nope. Find another way. This is insane.”
He turned to Tobias. “You told him this is insane, right? There’s got to be another way.”
“There’s no other way, and we’re out of time. If I don’t do this, everyone in Sanctuary will die.”
“Ambrose can blast it with the guns. Tear it open, that’ll vent it.”
‘If I do that,” Ambrose said, “the system won’t be able to re-pressurize. Most of the people here would die of exposure before repairs could be completed. Assuming they could fix it at all.”
“Why should I care?” Felix’s eyes flashed. “Why should I care if the likes of Denton and his thugs freeze to death? Let them die. We did it, Ripley. We found a way out. We can leave this place, don’t you see? We’re going somewhere better.”
Ripley gave a sad smile. “You don’t really mean that. I’m not just saving Denton and Percy. What about James? What about the other Halfsies?”
He glanced down at Willow’s stomach. “What about all of the children?”
Felix was grasping now. Ripley watched the struggle behind his friend’s eyes. He got up, began rummaging around the small hold, throwing supplies and tools to the floor.
“We can tie a rope to it. Pull it with the ship. Damn it, Ambrose!” Felix cried. “Why don’t you have any rope back here? We’ve got to turn around.”
Ripley looked around, shaking his head. “There’s no time to go back, even if we knew we could find something. Maybe it could have worked, I don’t know. There’s just... not enough time.”
Felix scoffed. “I’ll do it, then.” His tone was resigned but determined. “I’m stronger than you are. I’ve got a better chance of getting it open.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“You don’t get to decide!” Felix shouted. “Who put you in charge?”
Ripley’s voice was quiet. He knew he was making the right choice. But he didn’t want to have the last thing that ever passed between him and Felix to be anger.
“You’re going to be a father, Felix. Willow and your kids need you. That’s why we started this crazy adventure, remember? For them. You can’t abandon them now.”
He pointed at Ambrose. “That guy is the only one who can fly this tin can. And that guy,” he pointed at Tobias, “has been helping him work on it for two months. If anything goes wrong, Ambrose is going to need his help. I’m the only one here that’s expendable.”
Felix looked away, angry tears spilling down his cheeks.
“You’re not expendable to me,” he whispered, voice thick.
“We’re at the top,” shouted Ambrose. “I can’t put her down on the Dome. And it’s really windy out there. Not sure how long I can keep her steady.”
The engine stuttered. “I’ve got to keep her moving, warm her up.”
They all stood. Willow was weeping as she threw her arms around Ripley again, squeezing gently this time. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. “You saved us.”
Ripley smiled. “Not just yet. One last thing to be done.”
Ambrose couldn’t leave the pilot’s chair, but he had twisted around in it to look at Ripley, his face pained. “I’m so sorry.”
Ripley shrugged. “You saved me from Lub. I would have died back there if you hadn’t shot out the roof. I’m glad I got to see what the red button does, at least.”
Ambrose gave a small chuckle. “It’s been an honor.”
Tobias spoke up next. “It should be me.” His voice quavered. “I can open it just as easily as you can—”
“Ambrose needs you, Tobias. You’re his copilot now. It’s a long journey.
And I need you, too. I need you to make sure that you get these guys somewhere safe.”
Tobias straightened up, his face hard. “You have my word.”
Ripley turned back to Felix. “Please say something,” he pleaded.
Felix grabbed him so fiercely that fire erupted from his wounds. Ripley didn’t care.
He returned his friend’s embrace, struggling to keep his own tears at bay. Crying would only make things harder. He didn’t want them to know… didn’t want them to remember his last moments being full of fear.
“We had a good run,” said Felix, choking on the last word.
“The best,” agreed Ripley.
“It’s time,” called Ambrose.
Ripley broke away, taking one last look around. Then Tobias opened the hatch for him.
The bulkheads, the interior of D6, none of it had prepared Ripley for the cold outside the dome. Tobias threw out a little ladder which Ripley climbed down, stepping gingerly out onto the frosted exterior of Dome Six. The wind whipped around him, but the surface was textured and the arc so gradual that it wasn’t hard to keep his footing. He waved at his friends.
“Shut the hatch!” he cried out, his voice snatched away by the wind. “Fly far and fast!”
He saw Willow waving, and he saw Felix’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear what his friend was saying. Felix made a move toward the open hatch, and Tobias grabbed his arm and shouted something at him.
Ripley’s heart skipped a few beats as he saw Felix shaking his head, tossing Tobias off. He’d changed his mind. But Willow grabbed him around the waist and Tobias, scrambling to his feet, hit the button to retract the door.
The hatch closed, and then they were gone.
Ripley walked unsteadily to the condensers. They poked out of the top of the dome like giant tree trunks from the earth, stretching up another twenty feet into the air. He wasn’t sure how long he had. He might freeze to death in minutes, and he’d lost track of how long it had been since the Elves’ plan had been set in motion. The whole place could go up at any moment.
As if reading his thoughts, the condenser gave a low, rumbling groan as the pressure inside strained against the ancient metal.
There was no time to waste. Ripley came to a ladder on the side of one of the tubes as the dome itself shuddered beneath him. I’m going places, Nelson, he thought to himself, chuckling at the irony. I’m moving up the ladder!
He pulled his blanket up over his nose and began to climb, thankful that the rungs, at least, had withstood the test of time.
He felt weak, but somehow warm. He guessed that his body was beginning to shut down from the subzero temperatures. His fingers were blue, and he had trouble pulling his feet up the ladder because they felt like blocks of ice.
“Come on,” he urged himself through gritted teeth. “Keep it together. Almost there!”
He reached a platform and scrambled onto it, standing up too quickly and feeling a wave of lightheadedness. Regaining his balance, Ripley slid the lever out like a sword from its sheath as he peered down into the condenser tube.
There it was. The vent was right there, about four feet down. Beside it, the useless inner mechanism that had once been operated by the severed lever. Something on the horizon caught his eye. He looked up, and despite everything, Ripley began to laugh.
It was the sun. Peaking over the horizon and turning the deep blue of twilight into a swirl of pinks and purples.
He had finally gotten to see the sun.
Ripley thought about all the people inside Sanctuary as he pulled himself up and over the lip of the condenser. The soles of his boots hissed in protest as they hit the burning metal, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
What’s going on down there? he pondered as he jammed his metal bar down, wedging it between the gears. That should do it. Everyone is probably still enjoying the festivities.
He wondered how long it would be before they noticed anything was amiss. Before they started to wonder where the Elves had gone. Maybe they’d figure it out—maybe they wouldn’t. The important thing was, they would survive. They’d never know how close they’d come to death or the role he’d played in saving them. But they’d survive.
The condenser gave another ominous rumble.
History would not remember Ripley Prior. But Felix would. That’s enough, he decided.
Ripley watched the sunrise for a long moment. Then he grasped the lever, closed his eyes,
and pulled.
Whoever and wherever you are, thank you so much for reading Three Days Till Dawn! I know you have plenty of options for reading material, and I’m honored that you chose to spend time with me in the world of Antiquity’s Gate.
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Read on for a sneak peek at Antiquity’s Gate: Through a Mirror, Darkly. Coming September 24, 2019.
The Adventure Continues…
Antiquity’s Gate
Through A Mirror, Darkly
THE cold did nothing to numb the pain.
Felix’s hand balled into a fist and he punched the hull, feeling it reverberate through his arm.
“We have to go back. We never should have left him.”
Ambrose’s voice was pained as he spoke over his shoulder from his seat in the cockpit. “If I turn this ship around, there’s no guarantee we’ll ever get out of here.”
Willow reached out and took his fist in her hand, her touch warm but her eyes sad.
“We have to go back,” he repeated in a plaintive whisper.
“It’s too late, my love. He’s gone.”
She gestured behind him, pointing out a window at the back of the ship.
His gut felt as though he’d been punched again as he saw Sanctuary in the distance. It was beautiful from out here. Six domes arranged in a perfect circle.
From the top of one there was a sudden, silent eruption of steam, a giant pillar stretching into the clouds. He watched as it transformed into white powder in the frigid air, arching across the sky like a canopy before drifting back toward the earth, unconcerned with what it had done.
Unconcerned that a life had been swept up in that blast, and only death had fallen with the snow.
“He needed me. And I failed him.”
“Felix…”
Felix ignored Willow, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight that was rapidly fading into the distance behind them. The snow still drifted, serene, from high above the condenser. He searched for something even his Theran eyes could not have seen from this far.
A body.
Order Antiquity’s Gate: Through a Mirror, Darkly here.
About the Author
In the amount of time it takes you to read this, R.F. Hurteau will have finished yet another cup of coffee. More caffiene than human, she harnesses the powers of this magical bean juice to create stories that explore worlds unknown through the lens of that age old curiosity that drives all creatives: the human condition. She lives in New England with her husband, five kids, and an impressive array of animal friends. Her ultimate mission is to craft light, character-driven science fiction that is accessible to all, and by doing so slowly turn everyone into nerds.
Copyright © 2019 by R.F. Hurteau
All Rights Reserved.
This work may not be copied, in whole or in part, without the written consent
of the publisher. Short excerpts may be used without prior authorization for the purpose of reviews.
For permissions, please contact the publisher at [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. The characters and events in this book are fictitious and any resemblence to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN
978-1-951027-04-9 (paperback)
978-1-951027-05-6 (ebook)
978-1-951027-03-2 (hardcover)
Library of Congress Control Number:2019908851
Keep in Touch!
Twitter: @rfhurteau
Email: [email protected]
Website: www.rfhurteau.com
Cover Illustration by Nushie
Twitter: @NushDraws