Dremiks

by Cassandra Davis

  They traveled so far just to find us and then spent years teaching us how to travel back with them. All to save a dying planet. When we get here the situation is exponentially more dire than we were led to believe, and yet, they suddenly do not want our help. Even now, on the brink of success, they remain opposed to our presence. What has changed? Is this schism due to something we’ve done, or a change in the Dremikians?

  “Captain, I am proceeding with targeted detonations in sectors A6 and F15 in order to remove larger debris.”

  “Very well, Lieutenant.” Hill glanced over his shoulder at Dwax and was surprised to find the alien watching him. The captain quirked an eyebrow. Dwax bobbed his head, downward, once.

  Is the guilt he feels motivated by O’Connell’s accident and the High Council wishing to alter our treaty, or is it due to his act of sabotage during our flight? If he is the saboteur. So far the only thing I can concretely prove is that he sent secret messages to his home planet while we were in transit. Surely those messages had some effect on the current situation—but how much, and why? If Dwax isn’t our saboteur, who is?

  “Ensign Robertson, start turning on the sensors. I want feedback.” Hill called down to engineering. “Lieutenant, no more detonations for now. I want to start gathering data. If we find there are other debris fields that need to be cleaned up, we can take care of them later.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Telescopes and radar on-line, sir. The computers are working the data now. I will have updated Najif trajectories and orbital paths in five minutes.”

  It only took four minutes. Captain Hill read the data streaming across the main screen and allowed himself a small smile. He paged engineering, again.

  “Lieutenant you and your team will receive commendations for this. Najif has moved to three hundred and fifty thousand kilometers from the planet. The polar axis tilt has reduced to five degrees. Congratulations. You have saved Dremiks.”

  He listened to the congratulations being passed around the bridge and engineering, but the captain’s mind remained stuck on one question.

  Now what?

  Chapter 22

  It took an entire week of waiting, but the word from Rhyse station finally arrived.

  “The Honored Arbiters have spoken, Honored Captain. The Dremikian High Council has been instructed that they must adhere to the previous treaty. Humans have fulfilled their part of the agreement. We must allow you to settle on Dremiks.”

  “Why this request for more information on the area where we found the lorga?”

  Dwax shuddered. Given his soft skeletal structure, a shudder was an especially violent action. “They are concerned, Honored Captain. There should not be a mine there. You will grant their request?”

  “We have a colony to establish on a planet with two percent relative humidity and an extremely harsh climate. A planet which is, by the way, still being bombarded by regular meteor showers and severe magnetic storms. Investigating a mysterious mine is not at the top of my priority list. Also,” his eyes narrowed, “I’m not in a particularly beneficent mood.”

  ***

  “Our first order of business needs to be stabilizing the atmosphere dome so that we can get some basic life support systems active. I’ve drawn up what specifications I can, from our sensor readings. From the overhead pictures we have from Price’s latest flight, we can see that the dome is cracked here and here.” Swede paused in his litany to point to the pictures displayed behind him. The assembled engineers of the Hudson’s crew and colonists looked on attentively. “The oxygen supply on the surface is sufficient for human habitation, and there have been no adverse life-forms detected. However, the continued gravitational storms will wreak havoc on our sensors and our ability to work quickly. The wind speeds exceed two hundred forty kilometers per hour at some points during the storms. Driving sand will injure anyone caught outside.”

  “How are we going to get there? Your own best pilot crashed and the other lander barely made it back.” The colonist, a civil engineer, asked his question in an aggressively confrontational tone.

  “Barely made it back is a gross exaggeration. Price has now made four successful sorties to the planet, landing for two of those. We will take small crews down as possible. We still have two functioning landers. We, also, now know the safest routes to take when approaching the colony site. I do not mean to deceive you; the ride will be unpleasant, and there will be hard landings. However, you all knew this could be a dangerous assignment when you signed up.” Guttmann’s look challenged anyone to make any further comments regarding the crash of Lander 1.

  “Now then,” he continued. “We’ll need cordonlance and aluminum alloys to repair these panels here and here. This basic rib structure has been made with a material very similar to our steel. We have supplies that can accurately duplicate the flexibility and shape of the missing ribs. Cordonlance, as you all know, can be molded on site, and very quickly at that. The aluminum panels we will craft on the Hudson before departure. The captain has approved the following timetable.” Swede pointed to the new image on the view screen. “Once we have the dome repaired, the civil engineering crews, divided thusly, will land and start establishing water, sanitation, and air flow systems. From what Commander O’Connell tells us, your biggest problem will be keeping sand and other particles out of the air filtration systems.”

  A female colonist with dark black hair laughed. “If that is our biggest problem, then this will be the easiest terra-formation in human history. Sand we can deal with, Lieutenant.”

  “Right, sorry ma’am. Let’s hope I am correct and that really is our toughest challenge. Now, as for power and medical systems...” Swede continued with his briefing, mindful of the tension in the room. The colonists had been informed of the harsh future facing them, and more than a few were angry and feeling betrayed. They hadn’t expected an easy job on Dremiks, but they had expected far better chances of success.

  ***

  Tony winked at his video feed of Holly and took one last glance in the mirror before leaving his quarters. He was feeling particularly happy today. The captain continued to praise him for his job well done, retrieving O’Connell and Mangoda from the surface. And, while he would never say anything to her, Tony was experiencing a bit of schadenfreud at the commander’s poor landing. He had succeeded where the best pilot in the fleet had failed. It was enough to make him whistle as he headed to the officers’ mess.

  Swede was already in the room, staring at the view screen on the wall and mumbling softly to himself.

  “Still going over your timetable, Swede?” Tony slapped his roommate on the back and poured himself some tea.

  The tall blonde engineer snorted at the co-pilot. “You’re still pretty damn pleased with yourself, eh?” Swede fixed Tony with a piercing look and waited for his answer. He had learned that uncomfortable silences were just as effective as yelling in getting people to admit their secrets. Tony was no different.

  “Look, damn it, I’m not happy she crashed, but I got us down there and back with nothing but a few scratched panels. That has to count for something.” He rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “I refuse to feel guilty for doing my job well and being proud of it.”

  “That is the problem with pilots. You are all emotion and instinct with no rational thought at all.”

  Tony’s fists clenched. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’m just as intelligent and rational as you. I just happen to have pride in my work—in a skill no one else has.”

  “No one insulted your intelligence.” Tony moved until he was right in front of Guttmann, his tea forgotten. Swede looked down at him and shook his head in a condescending manner. “You can be the smartest man in the world and still be an emotional twit, which you’re being right now.”

  “You ass!”

  Before Tony could lose his temper any further, Captain Hill’s voice barked from the doorway. “Gentlemen, is there a problem?”

  The two men snapped t
o attention, guilt suffusing their features. They both stood ramrod straight, not responding to their captain.

  “Well?” The captain’s voice had dropped to a dangerously soft level. “Is this something I need to settle, or can you two work things out like officers of the ISA instead of warring school boys?”

  “No problem at all, sir.”

  “My apologies for our raised voices, sir.”

  Hill didn’t believe either of them, but he let it go. “Sit down both of you. I intend to enjoy a quiet lunch before we go over schedules again.” He watched as they both sat, neither looking at the other. With a heavy sigh, he moved to the sideboard and made himself a turkey sandwich. “The ladies will not be joining us, so go ahead and eat gentlemen.”

  The three men ate in silence, each busy with his own thoughts. Quickly finishing his meal, Tony rose and excused himself, shooting a quick look of apology at Swede. The other lieutenant nodded in acknowledgement. Once the door snapped shut behind Tony, Lieutenant Guttmann turned to his captain.

  “I think that this timetable is too conservative, sir. I feel certain that we can have the dome repaired within three days.”

  The captain sipped his coffee and eyed the lieutenant over the rim of the mug. He had used a heavy hand in dictating the engineers’ timetable, and he knew it. But, he felt the situation called for caution. He said as much. “Speed is unnecessary at this point. I won’t risk any more lives with unnecessarily ambitious plans. You will not push anyone to complete the dome any quicker than five days time.”

  “Yes sir. However, the quicker the dome is finished, the sooner we can begin getting the science stations set up and ready the colony for settlement.”

  “The extra two days will allow for contingencies and prevent accidents. It will also allow Dr. Fortunas to get more sensor data.” The captain brushed the crumbs from his food into his hand and dusted them back off onto his plate. He moved his dishes to the sanitizer and turned around to Swede, who was now standing. “Are we understood?”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Guttmann had little to gain by continuing the argument, but he felt, once again, that the captain was too restrained by caution and proper procedure.

  “Very good. And, Lieutenant, please settle whatever disagreement you and Price have. I can’t afford to have my entire officer corps in sick bay.”

  Swede finished his water and tossed the glass in the sanitizer. Despite his admonishment of Tony for being overly emotional, he couldn’t resist a level of frustration with himself and the captain. He had hoped the crash would show the captain that there were things that could not be predicted or dictated in his precious manuals. There was such a thing as being too logical and structured. Despite all that had happened in the past seven months, the best term to describe Captain Hill’s decision making process was still plodding.

  ***

  “Hey”

  Cassie glanced to her right where Maggie was just exiting a storage bay. “Hey back. How’s your head?”

  The red-head frowned. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “You have this look,” the doctor replied.

  “A look? I have a look?”

  “Many. This one indicates you have a blinding headache.”

  “Huh. Who knew?”

  Cassie gave her a wry grin. “Apparently, everyone but you. Stop by and see me if it gets worse, ok?”

  “Roger. Where are you off to now?”

  The two women turned down a side corridor together before Cassie answered. “I’m off to brief a joint commission of military and civilian scientific crew regarding the effects of pressure differentials on human lung capacity. Then I have to meet with the Vice Chancellor and his aides regarding medical supervision of colonists during the initial on-planet period.”

  “You know we have excellent communications systems that prevent you having to actually have these meetings face-to-face?”

  “Yes.”

  “I just mention it because there’s very little chance either of those meetings is going to go smoothly or stay on topic. Our communications do a remarkable job of facilitating conferences and committees. Helps everyone stay focused and without all the chit chat.”

  Cassie sighed. “I am aware, yes. However, both of the parties in question requested face-to-face briefings.

  “Ok. Just thought I would mention it, the facilitating. Because I like to facilitate the flow of information. I like to be seen as a facilitator.”

  “Having fun with that word, are we?”

  “Facilitate? Yes. Don’t you think it makes me sound helpful?”

  “Only to people who don’t know you.”

  “Ow. Thanks for that.”

  “Anytime.” Dr. Ruger stopped before getting on the lift. “Hey, Maggie?”

  “Mm?”

  “Seriously, come see me if that headache gets worse?”

  “Yes dear. See you at dinner?”

  “Depends entirely on how well I facilitate a close to these nonsensical meetings.”

  ***

  The next morning, Guttmann stood by Lander 2 supervising the initial equipment load. A good deal of room in the first trip would be taken up by medical and life support supplies for the workers who would be on the surface. Lieutenant Price walked around the perimeter, doing a pre-flight check. He was studiously ignoring Guttmann. Swede was dismayed that their easy friendship was suddenly strained, but he was too busy going through his own checklist to do anything about the tension.

  Two of his own engineers and three of the structural engineers from the colonist crew would be accompanying him to the surface. The four men and one woman stood nearby, waiting for their turn to climb aboard the lander. Dr. Ruger finished supervising the loading of the medical equipment and was now going over the emergency procedures with each of the engineers. Swede had a feeling that her insistence on ensuring that everyone was prepared for the worst-case scenario was not helping anyone’s mood. Also not helpful was the captain’s presence on the walkway above, frowning down on everyone like a malevolent heavenly host. The entire bay fairly reeked with tension and unease. It was not a good beginning for their first civilian foray to the surface.

  Finally, it was time to make sure everyone was seated and strapped in. Price and Guttmann entered last. Price strapped himself into the pilot’s seat, and Guttmann took the co-pilot’s seat at his side. As with all ISA officers, Guttmann had basic flight training, enough for him to help with take off and simple maneuvers. He helped Price check the com systems as the bay was cleared and depressurized. O’Connell’s voice came over the com and cleared them for departure. The lander glided out of the bay and dropped down to fly around the Hudson.

  Tony focused all of his concentration on the navigational and electromagnetic sensors. They’d plotted the optimum window for entry into the atmosphere, when the residual dust storms and magnetic fluctuations were at their least threatening. He angled the nose of the craft downward and began the slow process of initial entry. They dropped through the first magnetic wave. The passengers behind him gasped. Price had anticipated the stomach lurching drop, but the others had no way of knowing it was coming. He noticed Swede giving him a glance, but Price was too busy sliding the craft sideways through another magnetic field to comment. His hands glided over the controls, frantically adjusting pitch and the computer’s AI decisions.

  The AI of the lander’s piloting and navigational systems had been modified with the data from O’Connell and Price’s landings. Designed to help control the craft during atmospheric flight, the artificial intelligence systems were proving to be more of a hazard than a help. The ship’s computer wanted to drop and roll the craft through the magnetic barriers, but such a maneuver would have increased the friction on the exterior surfaces past the safety limits. When the AI wasn’t trying to kill them all in a lurching barrel roll, it was trying to overcorrect Price’s side-slipping. Unfortunately for both Price and the computer, he was intentionally yawing the craft.

  Guttman
n leaned over and turned off the radio and com signals. “Reaching the point of greatest interference. Nav system shut down in 1 minute.”

  “Affirmative.” Price pulled back on the stick and the lander moved upward a few feet before yawing sideways again and then diving. “Shut them down now.”

  Guttmann flipped the switch. The landing craft’s computers and outboard sensors went black.

  “This is the fun part folks. Hang on please.” Tony’s voice showed none of the glibness of his words. His fist tightened to a white knuckled grip on the control stick. He inhaled sharply and pushed the engines to their fullest power setting while increasing the angle of descent to more than sixty degrees. He no longer intentionally moved the ship sideways, but it slipped that way none-the-less. He fought for control and then gave up and rolled them into a tight, descending, roll towards the surface. An access panel popped open above the female engineer’s head. She gave a short shriek of fear. Tony looked wordlessly at Swede and jerked his head towards the back.

  Swallowing his own unease, Swede un-strapped himself and lunged towards the dangerously swinging bit of metal plating. He latched it back into place and turned back towards his seat. Anchoring himself on each seat as he passed, he lost his footing for one brief second and slammed his knee onto the deck before he made it back. He rubbed his knee and swallowed a bit of bile as he glanced out the nose portal. The dusty blue clouds cleared to show the sandy surface spinning rapidly toward them.

  Tony pulled back on the dive as he adjusted the yaw rate and slowed their roll. He grinned at Guttmann and flicked back on the AI navigation and the radar. Checking their position, he corrected their course and nodded again at his co-pilot. “Go ahead and switch coms back on. Let Hudson know we’re down safe, and ETA to dome site is five minutes.”

  Swede relayed the information, which was greeted with a terse acknowledgement from O’Connell. Their route took them over the crash site. He looked down with grim interest at Lander 1. He meant to propose a mission to repair the wrecked lander as soon as the manpower could be spared. The colony would not be easily established without the use of all three of the Hudson’s landers to ferry cargo back and forth to the surface. O’Connell would want to finish her mission and that meant retrieving her busted ship.