by David Peters
“Sorry, man. I think it’s time to look after my own skin.”
Dylan looked past Travis at the small shed, “Do we really need another storage shed way the hell up here? Isn’t there already a locker at the bottom of the antenna?”
“Just hold on a sec, boss-type-dudes,” he said as he held his hands up.
Dylan crossed his arms in front of his chest while Caperson stood with his hands on his hips trying to control his temper.
“I can explain everything,” Travis said almost pleadingly.
Caperson chuckled, “An excuse from Travis? Should I have brought some popcorn? This could be really good.”
“Just hold up on the verbal beat-down. Dylan, you asked me to fix the antenna issue, right?” Travis asked quickly.
“Well, yeah, I did ask you to do that,” he replied sheepishly.
“And you said to make it a priority, correct?”
“Well, not exactly.”
“Come on, man. I’m pretty sure that is almost exactly what you said. You said to get right on it and make it happen sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, I did make it sound that way.”
Caperson turned on Dylan, “You told him to take my stuff? Why the hell didn’t you check with me first?”
“No, that is not entirely true, Chris. I did not tell him to take anything from anyone. I actually didn’t tell him to do anything other than think about the antenna and try to come up with a solution.”
Travis held up his hands in order to calm the two men, “Dudes, just chill. Okay? Sometimes I have to go around the standard process in order to get something done fast.”
Dylan narrowed his eyes, “When have you ever done something within the standard process? As far as that goes, when have you done something within any process at all?”
Travis started to reply than closed his mouth.
“That’s what I thought,” Dylan said as he shook his head.
Caperson shook his head, “This better be good or I’m tearing that shed down using your head as a nail remover. I have a lot of people in the longhouse pretty angry that they have to walk up the hill to use a restroom that has a roof. Right now all I have is a hole in a concrete pad.”
Travis opened a small panel on the side of the shed and ran his fingers down the various lights as he checked his wiring, “Our biggest issue was the height of the antenna. We have tried to go higher in the past but even a small windstorm would tear the stuff off the top, correct? Maybe pull down the entire tower if we got too ambitious?”
Dylan nodded, “That about sums it up the problem, I think. You agree, Cap-Cap?”
“I think I was the last one to try to climb all the way to the top, so yeah, I’m with you this far.”
Travis pulled on a rope that led into a small hole under the roof-line of his newly built shed. As he continued to pull out lengths of rope, the top of the shed split at the top roof-line and slowly opened. He continued to pull the rope until the roof pieces passed vertical.
As he tied off the rope he continued, “So what we need is an antenna that we can shelter when the weather turns to crap but gives us really good altitude on those clear days when we need it the most, correct?”
“That sounds like a fairly optimal solution.”
Travis hit the second button and a small, electric motor fired up on the other side of the wall, “Then just watch, dudes.” Travis turned back to the controls and spoke under his breath, “For the love of all that’s holy, please work. My ass, or my head I guess, is literally on the line here.”
He clicked the button marked ‘up’ and there was a small clank as a gear engaged on the other side of the wall. Out of the roof opening, a large, tan colored balloon rose steadily into the sky. Slung underneath it was a light frame with a small box of electronics. The balloon continued to steadily rise into the still air while trailing a long, thin cable.
Both Dylan and Caperson stared slack jawed as the large balloon continued to rise hundreds of feet beyond the top of the existing tower.
“Where did you get the balloon?” Dylan asked.
“Doc had this old weather balloon science kit thing. I had seen it in his office a couple of years back and managed to talk it out of him. Of course, now I have to figure out how to bottle oxygen but it should be worth it in the long run.”
Caperson held his hand above his eyes as he watched the balloon continue to soar into the sky, “How high will that go?”
“In weather like this? About four-hundred feet, the more calm and cool the air is, the higher we can safely go. I tried to bulk up the mounting brackets but the higher it goes the more sheer force there is down here.”
“Damn, that’s four times what we have now!”
John moved several steps closer to Travis, “I helped him.”
Travis rolled his eyes, “Picking your side now?”
“Now that I see you aren’t going to die, yeah.”
Dylan used his hand to shield it from the sun as he watched the balloon continue to slowly rise.
“Now I just need to talk Niccole into letting me wire it into her system. It currently dead-ends at the base of the tower,” Travis said pointing to the conduit running out of the bottom of the shack.
“You ground it?” Caperson asked.
Travis rolled his eyes at Caperson, “Really? You have to ask me that? You know my work.”
“I guess I’m more used to stuff that goes boom.”
John laughed, “The balloon is filled with hydrogen. That goes boom.”
Travis laughed as he elbowed John, “There is that.”
Caperson smiled, “I guess this is worth a few complaints about the bathroom situation. I won’t kill you now.”
Dylan patted Travis on the shoulder, “Let’s get this tied into the radio. We need to find some new friends.”
As they began walking back down the trail Travis asked out loud, “Does Jonathan use that freezer in his basement? I could use that compressor for a project I’m working on.”
~8~
Charles was pulled back from the edge of darkness by the absence of sound. The ship was as quiet as a tomb, no low vibrations from the engines, no random noises from people working with tools as they went about their daily lives, not so much as a boot step in the hallway outside his cabin. Like someone who lives in the city trying to sleep on a farm, the quiet was disturbing.
He started to pull his sweatshirt over his head before he realized he was already wearing his dress uniform. He looked at his watch. Zero-seven-hundred hours. He should hear people. The footsteps from shift changes, the sounds on the hangar deck above him from people starting morning breakfast. Machinery in the fabrication room firing up.
He pulled the handset off the sound-powered phone and switched it to the CIC, “Anyone there?”
Silence.
“Hello? O’Reilly, you still on shift? Anyone? Is there anybody there?”
Silence. In fact, he didn’t even hear the tell-tale static and clicks he would usually hear in the phone line.
He looked at the phone handset in confusion, “What the hell?”
He pulled the heavy steel door open and stepped into the hallway still wearing his socks. To his right, the corridor went for hundreds of meters, so far he couldn’t make out the details at the end. To his left, the same thing, endless lights that faded in to a distant, glowing blur.
Something was wrong.
As he looked down the long hall, overhead florescent lights lit the tunnel every five meters until they blurred into a long line of fading light. For an instant, movement at the far end of the hall caught his attention. He squinted into the distance as he tried to see who it was. With the sound of a large stone dropping on a metal drum, the lights in the distance began to shut off one by one. The darkness moved toward him as each light shut down until the blackened hallway was almost upon him.
With a deafening silence, the lights stopped going out. Three of them remained on, lighting just the small area arou
nd him. The air grew still as he strained to hear anything in the darkness. Nothing stirred above the ringing in his ears.
As he looked from side to side, something down the long passage caught his attention. He tilted his head in order to hear better. Slight, padded footsteps came down the hall. Slowly but with purpose, the sound moved toward him. The footsteps stopped for a moment. Long seconds passed before he heard the sound of something pulling in a deep breath, smelling the surrounding air.
He thought he heard a gravelly laugh but it might have been the echoes in the still air playing tricks on him.
Sparks flashed in the dark as something dragged its claws against the steel wall. The sparks moved to the edge of the shadows then stopped. Those weren’t tricks created by his mind.
A black shape stepped into the light, long, deadly talons flexed in anticipation, its teeth snapping on empty air as it longed to sink them into his body. The thing paused momentarily as it tilted its head in confusion. After a moment, the fanged mouth stretched into a thin smile as it spoke.
“Hello, Daddy.”
Charles opened his eyes as he stifled the scream. That same damn dream that had been haunting him for years. Sometimes it was his wife or a long lost friend. Sometimes he didn’t wake up and it got worse.
He looked at his watch and decided he would show up early for his morning meeting early. Anywhere would be better than his dark cabin, enclosed with memories that won’t go away.
~9~
Captain Lewis sat at the head of the table and looked at the number of faces in front of him, “Looks like we have everybody. Thanks everyone for meeting on such short notice. We have a lot of ground to cover this week.”
There were several nods of acknowledgment from around the table.
He continued, “Let’s get right into it and not waste any time. Head of Farms, what do you have for us this week?”
A short, stout man cleared his throat, “We are making due, sir. That last sprint from the storm that swept up from the south took a lot of the topsoil with it and put us behind schedule on the repairs of the water tower. The new wind breaks installed on the bow help a lot but they need some tuning, the corn toward the bow was beaten up in a bad way. One of the plates on the starboard side bent in the wind and created kind of a cyclone thing. The way they move the wind it wound up topping a bunch of the wheat in field two.”
Charles nodded, “I’ll have engineering work with you on that, doesn’t sound like too big of an issue. Are water tower repairs back on track? I noticed they were re-welding the water feeder lines.”
“Yes, sir. We had to remove some of the base plate and install some newer support hardware but the pump wasn’t damaged. We should have it running the irrigation lines in another day at most. They have the desalinization plant running at one-hundred and ten percent but it should only be for another four days before we are caught back up.”
The Captain nodded, “Good to hear. I’ve seen your crews pulling all-nighters to get it done. Tell them thanks for all the hard work, it goes without saying how much it means to everyone on this ship.”
“We are also moving away from root vegetables. We simply don’t have the soil to support them and the area can be better spent on wheat and corn. The crews have been complaining about having to dig in the soil after the fish carcasses have been in them for a few months. I can’t argue with them.”
“Makes sense. Will overall crop yields be diminished?”
“Yield will be down and you are going to have people not real happy that they can’t have potatoes and carrots in their stew ever again but we will have a lot more bread and corn chowder to replace it.”
Charles nodded, “Noted but I’m sure there will still be complaints. Town Manager, any news or issues to report?”
“Everything is going well with the rebuild in the family quarter. We are moving forward with the rebuild of the aft portion of the town. Most of those buildings were done very hastily in the early days so the occupants will be quite happy to have doors that actually close. One new birth to report. The D’Oyley’s had their second, a girl. She is healthy and the mother is doing well.”
He continued to thumb through the large stack of papers in front of him, “Cold storage will be expanding now that the fish catches are beginning to get larger. We actually have a surplus for the first time in two years.”
Charles nodded again, “Congratulations to them, that’s always good news when a delivery goes off without a hitch. I’m also happy to hear about better construction finally getting underway. Any thoughts to shoring up the walls on the community center?”
“Once we finish up the first round of housing renovations we plan to...” He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the walls around the room.
A sudden and ominous silence had moved through the ship. The people arranged around the table felt the momentum of their forward movement begin to slow as the large propellers driving the ship forward began to slow. With a wrenching vibration, the lights dimmed slightly then brightened before they went out altogether. They were in total darkness for another five seconds before the emergency lighting came on and filled the room with an eerie reddish glow. In the distance an alarm klaxon sounded.
Charles stood abruptly, “What in the hell was that?” He leaned over and grabbed one of the wall mounted radio-phones, “Command, status report.”
“Not sure what happened, sir.”
The female voice on the line stopped talking as someone in the background shouted out another status update.
“Sorry, sir. Current information is the engine room is offline, power is offline, we have no steerage and are currently adrift. We had a huge spike but I think we got it shut down before anything was damaged. We have crews in route, sir. All of the fire indicators in engine room two are going off but it isn’t clear if there is actually a fire or just heat. Radiation detectors are flashing but it isn’t a high count, probably a secondary line leak at most.”
“Thank you. I will be heading back toward engineering if you find something out.” He placed the microphone back on the cradle.
He stood and prepared to exit the conference room, “We will pick this up at a later date, folks. Get to your action stations and make sure none of the civies are heading below the hangar deck. Keep everyone calm and report anything that could be a problem.”
The gangways were flooded with people attempting to make their way topside. Once he passed below the hangar level, the long hallways became quiet and vacant. He flashed back to his common nightmare as he looked down the long, vacant hallway before he pushed the thoughts away.
When he finally reached the bulkhead that divided engineering from the rest of the ship he found nearly six inches of water on the floor and a thin layer of smoke on the ceiling. Several of the engine techs in full firefighting gear moved down the gangway toward him. Two of them had rushed passed before he was able to reach out and grab someone by the arm to get their attention. The man turned and he recognized the engine room lead.
“Nixon! Give me a report!” he yelled over the sound of rushing water and struggling generators.
“Haven’t even started assessment, we’re not entirely clear what happened yet, sir. One of the hydraulic lines in the engine room blew and caught fire. Something in the reactor room gave way at the same time but we don’t even know what it is yet. We knew the system wasn’t plumb after Seattle. One of the shutoffs failed, but the plant kept building steam. I’m guessing one of the main steam lines blew but I won’t know until I can get the smoke evacuated from engineering. I think we have it contained right now but the damage is extensive. Something blew big in there and I am missing a lot of men. There is too much smoke to see what is happening and I didn’t want to vent until I knew how bad the fire was. Last thing we need is to pump a bunch of radioactive material out the external vents when we are dead in the water.”
“Is the fire contained? Is it spreading?”
“The fog system went off automatically so
I think that limited how far it could spread. The fire is out but two bulkheads down is nothing but toxic smoke and water. It’s still pretty damn hot back there. The fore bulkhead door was open when it popped, probably someone passing through at the same time. They are a good crew, they wouldn’t leave it open.”
“Why did we lose power?”
“Reactor SCRAM’d automatically once the pressure dropped. It was like a nine-pointer back here, sir. Most of us couldn’t stand until it stopped and I wasn’t sure what was flying apart in there. It’s how they have trained so it was an automatic response. It’s idling now but the turbine equipment is dead.”
“What is the danger to the ship currently?”
“Fire is out and aside from the initial burst we don’t seem to be flooding. My big concern right now is the compressor room. If the coolant can’t be moved, we can’t restart the reactor. I know at least one of the turbines is out but I can’t say how badly it’s damaged. Secondary control room is offline due to the smoke and heat. Bunch of the power cables were fried but we should have that rerouted in no time. It’s a mess, sir.”
“What do you need to get it done?”
“Frankly, sir. I need you out of here and I need to direct my crew so we can get a better picture for you. I want to vent so we can see but I can’t do that until I get someone in there with the right gear.”
“I’ll get out of your way and let you work but I want hourly reports, I’ll be in the CIC. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to get it and ask for permission later.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have an update at,” he looked at this watch, “eleven hundred hours, sir.”
Nixon pulled his breather back over his face and ran down the long hallway toward the smoke rolling out of the engine room. Charles could only watch. More injuries, more damage and more things they most likely wouldn’t be able to fix. The weight on his back was growing again.
~10~
Nixon took a long pull from his canteen. He was still wearing his full firefighting gear, had a dirty, soot covered face and smelled of burned plastic and metal. With a soot covered rag, he tried to wash his blackened hands as he watched patiently as the captain flipped the pages on the clipboard.