James Wittenbach - Worlds Apart 09

by Gethsemane

  “Sixteen,” Alkema answered.

  Change nodded. “Dispatch an Aves to each of those locations, and any other with secondary inhabitation indicators,” she ordered. She paused. “Are any of them nearby my coordinates?” she asked.

  “There’s one 140 klicks northeast of your location,” Alkema answered and showed her the display. “An old power-plant. We didn’t detect life signs, but there’s still energy output and mechanical activity going on inside.”

  “Thank you, Rook out.” She looked over to where the Aves Prudence was parked on her dock, thinking it was past time she had seen one of these rescue operations first hand.

  Gethsemane – Fort Abaddon – Ten hours into the Dust Storm, Miranda had returned to the shelter at the foot of the windmill and led Alkema and the children to a larger shelter. They linked arms to stay together. Alkema was nearly blinded by the howling dust, but Miranda seemed to know where she was going.

  They came to a second shelter, underground, with more than 300 kids huddling inside.

  The dust storm was still raging outside the walls of this shelter.

  Aeric Tuck, the young boy with the upturned nose who had first pointed out the storm, had fallen asleep against Trajan Lear’s shoulder and was snoring. Lear had removed his flight jacket and wrapped it around the boy. He sent a report to Pegasus reporting on ground conditions, using the text function of his COM Link: No change in past 43 hours. Sustained cyclonic winds of 160K with blowing dust and electric discharges

  Miranda came out of the galley, and offered water to a girl who had been crying.

  “It’s been two days,” Miranda asked. “How long can your ship stay up there?” Trajan Lear answered her. “Once Phoenix is airborne, she doesn’t use fuel. She can stay in orbit for days if she has to.”

  Pegasus Flight Control sent him a message:

  Lt. Commander Taurus Rook and our best adverse-weather pilots are planning a mission to evacuate you guys.

  Trajan Lear passed this information along to Miranda. “Commander Rook is prepared to send evacuation ships to us to land in the storm if necessary to get us out.” Miranda frowned and shook her head. “Getting the ships in and out won’t be the problem. If we try to move these kids out in this dust storm, we’re going to lose some of them in the dust between the shelter and the landing zone.” Trajan conveyed the message to Pegasus, who sent a response: Could the ships land closer to your shelter?

  Trajan replied:

  Negative, there’s too much obstruction on the ground. Also, the children are in three separate storm shelters.

  There was a long pause. Then Pegasus said:

  Lt. Commander Alkema thinks he has a way to dissipate or at least weaken the storm. We will make the attempt. if it doesn’t work, we will take our chances with a heavy weather evacuation in 30 hours.

  Trajan Lear responded:

  Understood. Lear out.

  The communication ended, he turned to Miranda. “If the storm doesn’t break, we have to be prepared for a heavy weather evacuation. There will be no other choice.

  Miranda’s face registered shock, but she seemed to understand.

  Aeric Tuck stirred and awakened. When he saw Trajan Lead next to him, he smiled and huddled closer. Trajan Lear really didn’t care having the boy so close to him, but put his arm around the boy’s shoulder to offer him a bit of comfort and security anyway.

  Miranda sipped at something from a tall, ceramic mug. She looked around the shelter, which was dimly lit by tiny emergency lamps. Outside, the wind continued to howl.

  “Do these storms happen often?” Trajan Lear asked.

  “I have never seen one this bad,” she replied. “It’s funny. Every day for the past fifteen years, I wondered what the last day would be like. I had it pictured in my mind. I dreamed about it. I was going to make a huge feast. All the rations I’ve been saving, all the candy-cakes and sweets. We would have a huge feast, and we would play once last time in the sun. And then, as the final hour drew near, we would gather and hold each other. We would pray. I’d tell the children not to be afraid, that soon we would all be with our families again. And we would meet death, all of us, holding the hands or held in the loving arms of someone who cared about us.”

  She sighed. “I never imagined rescue, but now I see even without rescue, this storm would have ruined my last days anyway.”

  “We’re going to get out of this,” Trajan Lear promised her. It seemed like what he was supposed to say.

  Miranda suggested, “Maybe you should tell the children about your ship, so they know what to expect on their new home.”

  A hundred, or so, young and dirty faces looked up expectantly.

  Trajan Lear cleared his throat. “Pegasus is a Pathfinder-Series Long-Range, Extended Mission Self-Sufficient Exploration vessel. Pegasus is 4.2 kilometers in length. It has 221

  decks, 100 above the centerline and 121 below. Its primary propulsion system consists of four Graviton Engines with a combined output of …”

  “Will there be food?” a young girl asked.

  Trajan Lear had to refocus his recall in order to answer her. “Pegasus has stored food supplies sufficient for ten years of operations at 100% crew levels. In addition, it has hydroponic gardens for the production of fresh vegetables and cereal grains, and waste reprocessing systems that generate additional supplies through protein isolation and resequencing. Meat is produced on the ship through a cloning-based budding process.”

  “Where will we sleep?” another little girl asked.

  “My understanding is that quarters are being prepared for you in the tertiary inhabitation areas,” Trajan Lear answered.

  Miranda cut in. “What he means is, there will be food for everyone. And you’ll all have your own bed…”

  “Sleeping unit,” Trajan muttered.

  “… and nice people like Citizen Lear will be there to take care of you.” She finished.

  “Will there be other kids there?” a boy asked.

  Trajan Lear answered. “There are over 300 personnel under the age of 16 on Pegasus. I don’t know the precise number, or the breakdown. I can get that information for you.” He picked up his datapadd to retrieve the information. “327 under the age of sixteen,” he announced.

  “He means yes, there will be other kids there,” Miranda corrected. “The most important thing is that you’ll be safe on his ship.” She looked at Trajan, pleading with her eyes for him to reinforce her point.

  “You will be safe,” Trajan Lear reassured them. “I promise you, you will be safe.” The wind picked up and the storm banged loudly against the side of the shelter.

  “Do you like living in space?” Miranda asked Trajan Lear.

  “Nay,” Trajan Lear was surprised to hear himself say that out loud. It was as though the answer had escaped before he could engage the filter that kept him from admitting such things, most of all to himself. The filter quickly kicked in, as he half-heartedly backtracked. “I mean, it’s a good life and the work we do is important.”

  “It isn’t the life you would choose for yourself,” Miranda told him.

  Trajan Lear told her something he had never admitted to anyone before. “Sometimes, I think that if we ever find a planet where there’s an advanced civilization… that isn’t about to be blown up or invaded by Aurelians or some other horrible fate… that I would just like to stay there. That I would like to find a big city where I could live in a tower and just be one among millions. No one would know who my mother was. No one would know that I was the kid who disappeared into a different universe for two years. I could just have an ordinary life.”

  Miranda almost smiled, came as close as she almost ever did. “You don’t want to be the hero who saves orphans from certain doom?”

  “I would really prefer someone else had that job,” Trajan replied. “I’m not a hero. I’m just the pilot who happened to get this mission assignment.” Gethsemane—Jericho Point – Prudence ducked low beneath a dusky-hued cloud bank
and made for a large complex whose perimeter was defined by a large octagonal fence. A dozen or so dilapidated buildings surrounded a large, heavily built structure in the center; a huge drilling rig at least a hundred meters high stood in the center.

  “What is it?” Anaconda Taurus Rook asked Tactical Specialist Eric Molto as they closed over the site.

  “Geothermal energy plant,” Molto answered. He adjusted the sensitivity of the Aves’s sensors. “It’s still putting out a power signature. It’s not easy to detect in over the background electromagnetic interference.”

  “Touchdown in forty seconds,” Driver advised from the command deck.

  Taurus Rook clapped Molto on the shoulder and joined the two warfighters and two medics in the ships Main Deck. She took a landing couch across the warfighters. “You’ve done three of these already. What’s your standard procedure?”

  “We take our orders from the mission captain,” answered Warfighter So’Oto.

  Taurus Rook smiled, of course that was how it worked. “Damn right, So’Oto, you’ll be with me. We’ll scout out the compound and get an idea of how many men it will take to make this evacuation work. Specialist Richter, hang back at the ship and stand-by in case we need you.”

  Richter was a tight Borealan female, who had to bunch up her hair to accommodate her combat helmet. “Right,” she acknowledged, double checking her gauntlets.

  “We’re on the ground,” Driver informed them from the Command Deck. “Powering down main engine.”

  “I didn’t even notice we’d landed,” remarked So’Oto.

  “He’s very good,” Taurus Rook confirmed, leading him to the hatch.

  There was a smell of steam and minerals in the air as they exited the ship. Driver had parked them inside the walls at the edge of the compound. Anaconda Taurus Rook heightened her perceptions, remembering the ambush of her own team in New Gethsemane, and thinking of the other rescue teams that had been attacked by untamed youth. Detecting no one nearby, she gestured for So’Oto to follow her toward the largest building in the semi-circle that surrounded the drilling rig.

  “Some of the teams send out friendship messages from the ship’s acoustic systems,” So’Oto advised.

  “Let’s get an idea of what we’re dealing with first,” Taurus Rook replied.

  A small child, gender indeterminate under layers of clothing that was much too big but who appeared to be about eight years old wandered up to them. Its skin was smeared with grease and grime and it carried a small can and smiled at them. “Hi!” he or she said.

  Taurus Rook knelt down to meet him at eye level. “Hi, there,” she said. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Shorpy,” the child answered,

  “Shorpy,” Taurus Rook repeated. “I’m Ana.”

  “Hi,” Shorpy repeated, with a little wave from his or her small filthy hand thrown in for good measure.

  Taurus Rook listened against the wind, knowing the child might be distracting her in advance of an ambush by his or her compatriots. She was about to ask him (or her) where the others were, but he (or she) spoke first.

  “Do you have any food?” Shorpy asked. “We don’t have much food here.” So’Oto drew out a large chocolate-nut chunky bar from his pack and handed it to the child, who took it in his (or her) grimy hand, unwrapped one end, took two bites, then tucked away the rest.

  “I’ll share it with my friends,” he (or she) promised.

  “We have more food in our ship,” Ana told him. The child looked away from her, and toward the large, gleaming spacecraft parked behind her. Taurus Rook saw, and sensed, his fear. (She was quite sure he was male now. Even through the smell and the dirt, there was a distinctly male aura about him.) “It’s okay,” she said. “That’s just our spaceship. Do you want to see the inside?”

  “No,” Shorpy answered.

  “Would you take me to your leader?” Taurus Rook asked him. “Is he in that building over there?” She pointed toward the Main Building of the complex.

  “Unh-huh,” answered Shorpy. He began walking toward it, simply expecting them to follow him.

  As they crossed the dusty ground, Taurus Rook spoke into her COM Link. “Prudence Team, break out the nutrition packs. We may have some malnourished children to treat.

  Tactical teams, stand by, we’re going into the main complex.” Molto answered. “We’re standing by.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Shorpy asked.

  “The people on my ship,” Taurus Rook answered. “I told them to get the food ready because your friends will probably be hungry.”

  “Yeah,” Shorpy agreed. “There hasn’t been much food lately.” They passed through a large set of doors and into a large open floor-space dominated by huge machinery. Through the dust that hung in the air, Taurus Rook counted fifteen people. They seemed to be ignoring the visitors, too busy operating the equipment.

  Shorpy looked around a bit before spotting the person he wanted to take them to. He was a boy of about, Taurus Rook would have guessed, fifteen. His hair was longish and wavy, she guessed it must be blond but it was hard to tell because it had not been washing in so long. He was twisting a wrench on some horrible mass of pipe when they approached him. He did not notice them until Shorpy tugged on his sleeve. Although irritated at being interrupted, he set the wrench aside.

  “Are you the leader of this place?” Taurus Rook asked.

  He shrugged. “I guess so, sort of.”

  “What’s your name?” Taurus Rook asked.

  “I’m Soarboar.”

  “Ana,” she said, extending her hand.

  Soarboar turned to Shorpy. “Station 19 needs a lube job.” Shorpy nodded and scurried off.

  “It’s getting harder and harder to keep the machines running,” Soarboar said. His voice was husky, but soft. It was a voice that might have sounded unintelligent, but obviously he knew enough to keep this little outpost of survivors going.

  Taurus Rook sensed that she wasn’t in danger. She powered off her weapon, and broached the subject of her visit. “I don’t know if you know this, but this planet is going to be destroyed soon.”

  “That’s what they say,” Soarboar sounded as though he didn’t believe it, or didn’t care.

  “This place is kind of our home. It’s kept us going.”

  “How many of you are here?” So’Oto asked,

  “85,” Soarboar answered. “There used to be 92, but we lost five when one of the capacitors exploded during a Gateway operation. We lost two more gathering food.” There was an epic of tragedy contained in the two sentences.

  “Our families put us here five or six years ago,” he went on to explain. “The Authority was going to do a Final Sweep of Jericho. And they had a list with all the names of all the can-gos. And our families knew they’d never stop looking if they couldn’t cross off all the names on the list. So, they hid us here. And then they went away. We kept the plant going, but we ran out of food. And the storehouses are almost empty now.”

  “We brought food on our ship,” Taurus Rook explained.

  “That’s good,” Soarboar said.

  Taurus Rook tried adjusting herself. She had been prepared to fight, and she had been prepared to be welcomed as rescuers (though she thought it unlikely), but she had not expected this calm resignation.

  “There isn’t much time left,” Taurus Rook told him. “It’s not safe here for you or your friends. We would like to take you to somewhere safer.”

  “Where are you from?” Soarboar asked.

  “I come from a planet called Sapphire,” Taurus Rook explained. “Our ship is called Pegasus. It’s in orbit above this planet. We’d like to take you there. You and all your friends.”

  “My dad used to tell me about the other worlds,” Soarboar continued, in his quiet, almost lazy locution. “He used to say that Gethsemane was just one of ten thousand human colonies. And starships used to come here, a long time ago.”

  “Pegasus is a big ship,” Taurus Rook told him. “
There’s room for all of you. Plenty of food. You’ll be safe there.

  “OK,” Soarboar agreed. His expression never changed, but his eyes had become wet. If he had been the leader and protector of these children all this time, Taurus Rook realized, than he must have disciplined himself to contain his emotions. Maybe he wept when he was alone.

  A girl came forward. She was Soarboar’s age, or a little younger. And she was very pregnant. “This is Serrea,” he introduced her.

  “Hello,” she said shyly, taking shelter in his arms.

  “She is our time-keeper. Is it almost time?” he asked.

  “It’s almost time,” she answered.

  He nodded, and pulled on a cord. An old-style siren began wailing. He pulled the cord twice, sharply, creating two brief whistles. He waited a minute, then pulled it two more times.

  Children began running all around them, most of them making for the exits. Two boys located at a large control board began pulling down switches. “You should move away from the machines,” Soarboar gently advised them.

  “Why?” So’Oto asked, but Taurus Rook knew better. If someone who should know what was going on told you to do something, it was best to do it. Soarboar led them to a pit in the floor of the power plant.

  The machinery in the old power plant fell silent. Seconds elongated in anticipation of what would happen next.

  Taurus Rook sensed a tingling, and then an electrical shock as power surged through her tactical gear. She felt her hair begin to stand up, and then every loose piece of metal began flying toward the power machinery. Then, boxes and conduits expoded in showers of sparks and some of the machinery began powering up again, then cycled up and down several times before things quieted again.

  When it passed, there was a stench of hot ozone in the air. “What was that?” Rook asked.

  Soarboar shrugged. “It happens every time they open the Gateway.” He looked over at a charged junction box. “That was a really bad one. They’ve been getting worse.” He picked up a tool from the ground and began walking toward his machinery.