Transport 2_The Flood

by Phillip P. Peterson

  Julia stood up. “Let’s not build our future on atomic bombs! It would be a pact with the devil! It’s bad enough that we still have this reactor here.”

  Lee Shanker grunted, stood up, and turned to Julia. Russell knew that they hated each other’s guts. “The travelling wave reactor is completely safe. It regulates itself and doesn’t pose a threat.”

  “I don’t care! It’s nuclear power, and we don’t want that here!”

  “Speak for yourself! Listen to what you’re saying! You were happy enough that your laboratory had electricity before the refinery and the generator—”

  “Enough!” said Marlene. “We’re talking about our survival here. We don’t have time for ideological debates. We’ll vote on the plan.”

  “How long do we have to consider it?” asked Ann Penwill.

  “None. Time is of the essence. We’ll vote immediately. If a majority is in favor, we’ll begin work on the detonation site tomorrow. Simultaneously, an expedition will set out to get as much petroleum, kerosene, and crude oil from the refinery as we can fit in the jeeps. Two days later, when the work is completed, we’ll carry out the detonation!”

  “In three days already?” asked Eliot Sargent.

  “Yes. We don’t know how much time we have left until before we can’t defend the post anymore. I don’t want to take any risks. Until shortly before the detonation, we’ll have to triple the number of lookouts at the post. Until then, I’m going to withdraw all workers from the fields—and the jeeps. We need them here.”

  “But the harvest . . .”

  “Yes, we will lose part of the harvest, but we can compensate with what we have in our reserves. This has absolute priority. If all goes well, the crisis will be over in three days. But we must not fail. I’ll say it again, very clearly: our survival is at stake.”

  Chapter 20

  “Not long now, and we’ll be able to see the ocean from here,” said Russell.

  “Whatever the consequences, it will be a fantastic view.” Ellen linked arms with Russell as they walked along the rim of the plateau. Eridu was still covered in gray mist, but on the distant horizon a red line indicated that the sun was about to rise. The lowlands, thousands of feet below them, were also covered in mist. Only a few treetops, like a sprinkling of dark-brown spots, peeked out of the blanket of gray. On the other side of the firmament, beyond the mountaintops, the moon of New California was getting ready to rise, even if up to now only a tiny corner of it had been visible.

  Russell had gotten up early to prepare for the expedition to the oil spring. Ellen had woken up too, and they had decided to take a little walk before Russell had to set off.

  “It all looks so peaceful,” he said. “It’s hard to believe that there are hordes of deadly animals down there just waiting to attack us.”

  “We’ll stop them,” said Ellen emphatically.

  “Yes, we will. We’ll definitely be able to defend the pass entrance until we detonate the bomb. We’ll . . .” Russell was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. He held his hand over his mouth. When the rattling subsided, his hand was full of blood.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  Ellen took a piece of cloth out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him. “It’s getting worse.”

  Russell nodded. He knew that he looked awful. He couldn’t sleep properly, because he had to cough constantly. And he had chest pains, which at least weren’t unbearable. He had burst out laughing that morning when he had seen the dark rings around his eyes in the mirror. He looked in a worse state than a junkie. Although of course . . . now he was one.

  “The effect of the medication is wearing off,” he said flatly.

  “Which shouldn’t stop you from finishing off the dose of stimulants that Dr. Lindwall gave you,” said Ellen.

  “I’ve already asked for more.”

  “I think you should take it easy.”

  Russell rolled his eyes. They had talked about it at length the night before. “They need everyone they can get for this expedition.”

  “But not people who are terminally ill!”

  “As long as I can stand up and hold a weapon in my hand, I will continue to help out,” replied Russell. Of course he knew that Ellen was right. He ought to be in bed, not in battle. On the other hand, he couldn’t be cured, so what was the point of resting? And in fact, secretly, he still hoped to die on a mission instead of slowly suffocating to death.

  “You nearly died on your last adventure. And not just you, but our son as well!”

  Russell put an arm around her shoulder. “You know that I hadn’t intended to come back. That was the whole point. I’m sorry about what happened with Greg. I should have guessed. Planning the adventure wasn’t the problem, but I should have been more careful. But today’s mission is important. We need the petroleum.”

  “Maybe it was a mistake,” said Ellen bitterly.

  Russell turned to look at her. It was rare for Ellen to be so melancholy. “Maybe what was a mistake?”

  “To destroy the transporter on Earth.”

  “You were in favor of it at the time. You encouraged me to set off the bomb, remember? As did the others.”

  “Yes, I know. And logically I still think it was the right decision. But I miss Earth. How safe and secure life was there.”

  Russell laughed. “Safe? Are you kidding me? At the end, you were a felon condemned to death. Like me.”

  It’s not us I worry about so much, but the children. On Earth they could have grown up in safety.”

  Russell snorted. “Safe? On Earth?” He shook his head. “If I learnt anything from my time in the army it’s this: nowhere on Earth is safe. Afghanistan and Syria were once also livable, pleasant countries, until they were wrecked by civil wars. Even if we lived in relative safety in the USA, it could have changed overnight. There were already signs of things falling apart before we left. There is no stability on Earth, only islands of calm in an ocean of war and destruction that rises up periodically and quickly recedes again.”

  “Aren’t you exaggerating?”

  Russell shook his head. “What would have awaited our children on Earth? With eight billion people, the world was so overpopulated it would have been impossible to feed everyone in the long term. The Earth can only handle the environmental footprint of a billion people. At most! Greenhouse gas emissions have pushed Earth’s climate to the brink of stability. I’m absolutely convinced there’s a point when global warming intensifies of its own accord—like a chain reaction. At some future date, conditions on Earth will be like on Venus. And you know what’s so depressing about it all?”

  He had worked himself up into a rage. “All the problems people have on Earth are self-inflicted. Here on New California we’re fighting against nature. We’re back where we were on Earth millions of years ago, when we had to defend ourselves against wild animals and adverse conditions. Once we solved those problems on Earth, we started to fight each other, and then humans became their own worst enemy.”

  “Here we have a chance to start from scratch, and to do it right,” said Ellen. “If what you say is true, and people have ruined Earth, then our children and their children are perhaps the only chance for the continued existence of the human race. On an alien planet, beneath an alien sky. We don’t even know which of those stars in the sky was once our home.”

  “The question is whether we have a chance of doing it right this time and of avoiding the same mistakes. It’s possible that generations down the line, when our children and their children have colonized and conquered this planet, the same mechanisms of greed, materialism, and egotism will rear their ugly heads again.”

  “What does that say about us?” asked Ellen.

  “It would mean we’re programmed to destroy ourselves. In that case, humanity is doomed, regardless of whether they populate outer space or not.”

  Ellen shook her head. “I don’t believe it, because I don’t want to believe it. Our children are the future, and every generati
on can choose to change itself and learn from the mistakes of previous generations. Perhaps humankind hasn’t yet grown up, but I firmly believe that it will one day. Here, and on Earth.”

  In the distance, Russell saw Eliot coming toward them from between the huts of their settlement, and waved.

  “I think the expedition is starting. We better get back.”

  Russell turned around, but Ellen grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. “Promise me that you won’t take any unnecessary risks!”

  Russell looked her in the eyes. He hesitated before replying, because he still believed that dying in a fight was preferable to dying of his disease. He wouldn’t provoke it, but if somebody needed to risk their life during the mission, then better him than somebody else. He didn’t want to lie to his wife, so he decided not to answer her question. Instead he took her in his arms and kissed her softly on the top of her head.

  “This is the spot!” called Drew Potter.

  “Here?” Marlene stopped the jeep.

  “Yes, right here! This is the narrowest point in the whole canyon.”

  Marlene, Drew, Ty Grazier, and Lee Shanker climbed out of the vehicle. Marlene recognized the place: it was where Russell had almost run over the geologist two weeks earlier. The gray cliff faces towered up at least three-hundred feet on either side. It was early in the morning. The sun was still low in the sky and the canyon shrouded in darkness. An icy wind whistled through the narrow valley and Marlene shivered. The cliff walls seemed to be closing in on her when she looked upward. She felt dizzy and she turned to look at Ty Grazier. “What do you think?”

  The weapons expert chewed on a twig that he’d picked up from the ground, lost in thought. He continued to look around. The seconds dragged by. “It could work, it could work,” he mumbled, barely comprehensible.

  “Good. How shall we proceed?”

  Ty pointed upward. “At a height of about thirty feet, we drill horizontally into the cliff face. Around a hundred-and-fifty-feet deep. When the bomb explodes, the pressure of the vaporized rock will cause the whole cliff to collapse. The rubble will fill the canyon and be glazed by the fireball. The barrier should end up being about a hundred-and-thirty-feet high and smooth as glass.”

  Marlene nodded. “That will do.” She turned around to her chief engineer. “What needs to be done in preparation?”

  Lee Shanker ran a hand through his prematurely gray hair, which tumbled in wild locks down to his shoulders. He sighed. “It’ll be quite a job. We need to build a scaffold against the cliff face, and to operate the drill we’ll need the compressor here. Our first job is to get that out of the workshop. How wide does the hole need to be?”

  “Around twelve inches for the atomic bomb to fit inside,” Ty answered.

  Lee nodded. “No problem. The drill from the geology lab can do the job.” He turned to Marlene. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Marlene smiled. “Good to hear. Will you manage in forty-eight hours?”

  Lee whistled through his teeth. “Well, we should be able to get the scaffold up by this evening, then we’ll need the night and all of tomorrow for the drilling. Hmm, that means we also need light. And we’ll need the final night to get things finished. But yeah, it should be possible, if we work non-stop in two shifts.”

  Marlene nodded. “Start right away. I’ll leave you two to divide up the work. This job has absolute priority. Whatever you need, you’ll get it!”

  “Good, I . . .” Lee stopped and listened. Marlene also noticed the sound of car engines and swiveled around.

  The four of them sprang to the side as the first jeep raced around the corner. It was followed by three more. Ben was driving the first vehicle and raised his hand from the wheel to wave. Marlene nodded in response. The last vehicle had been converted into a semi and was pulling a trailer behind it, which looked like it had been improvised in a hurry. It was twice as long as the jeep.

  “I’m glad I don’t have to go out there,” murmured Lee.

  Marlene pursed her lips. Ideally, she would have liked to lead the expedition to the oil spring herself. But she couldn’t do everything, and preparing the atomic bomb was more important. Despite his social shortcomings, Ben was a good strategist. Under his leadership, they would manage to get the oil supplies back to the colony. The six miles to the spring were familiar territory. Several years ago they had cleared about sixty feet of forest on either side of the track and put up a barbed wire fence. On the other hand, nobody knew how quickly the situation in the lowlands would come to a head. If the wotans were no longer able to defend themselves against the hordes of other animals moving in on their territory, all hell would break loose. In that case, the barbed wire around the oil spring wouldn’t be much use. Anyone who went past the observation post at the bottom of the pass would be dead meat.

  Chapter 21

  “Jesus, it’s unbelievable!” whispered Russell.

  The road resembled a war zone. The fence had been torn down on both sides. Parts of it had fallen onto the road, and as they navigated their way through the carnage, they had to be careful not to puncture a wheel on the barbed wire. Some of the bodies were ensnared in the tangled remains of the fence and looked as if a huge mouth had bitten chunks out of them.

  They drove through the killing field slowly.

  “Was it those greyhounds?” asked Eliot, who was sitting behind Russell on the back seat. He was gripping tightly onto his weapon.

  “I have no idea,” said Russell.

  “Quiet! Concentrate on what’s going on around us!” barked Ben Hawke. “We’ve still got half the journey ahead of us.”

  “A whole herd must have stormed over the road here,” said Eliot in a shocked tone of voice. He hadn’t heard Ben’s order—or didn’t want to hear it. Ben shook his head, but said nothing.

  “The barbed wire didn’t stop them. They simply trampled over it and flattened everything,” continued Eliot. “If a horde like that attacks our observation post, the lookouts won’t stand a chance.”

  Russell nodded. “I don’t like this one bit. It looks as if the wotans fled from something in a blind panic. That means they’re losing their fight. We don’t have much time left. I’m surprised they haven’t attacked the observation post yet. I wonder what state we’ll find the oil spring in? The area isn’t much better secured than here.”

  “We’ll soon find out,” said Ben. “It’s only a few more miles. At least everything seems to be quiet. Whatever came through here, they seems to have moved on.”

  “We definitely shouldn’t stay any longer then we need to. We’ll secure the wells, fill our tanks with petroleum and get out of there as quickly as possible,” said Russell.

  Ben turned around and glared at him. “I’m leading this expedition and I am the one who gives orders. Is that clear, Mr. Harris?”

  He still hates my guts. Twenty years have changed nothing. Perhaps I should have stayed behind in Eridu, after all.

  “It was just a suggestion, Ben.”

  “Save the suggestions. I know what I’m doing. And I don’t want to hear another word until we’re at the oil spring!”

  Russell threw a glance at Eliot. He just shrugged and turned to look at the destroyed fences.

  The silence was unnerving. Russell kept peering into the jungle. The vegetation was too thick here—it was impossible to see more than six feet into the thicket. Who knew what was lurking inside? If a group of snipers was hiding in the undergrowth, it could jump out and finish off the whole lot of them in the blink of an eye. They wouldn’t stand the slightest chance.

  But the rest of the drive was uneventful, and finally they rounded the bend to the oil spring. Russell jumped out of the jeep, opened the nine-foot-high gates that were covered in barbed wire and let the vehicles pass.

  The cleared area measured roughly a hundred-and-fifty square feet, about the same size as a baseball stadium, and was filled with gravel. A wooden, fifteen-foot-high drilling rig stood in the center. They didn’t need
a pump, since the oil spring had enough natural pressure to bring the black liquid to the surface. An automatic valve regulated the stream. A pipeline led to a six-foot-high distillation column, which Lee Shanker had constructed together with Dr. Cashmore to separate the crude oil. Gasoline, kerosene, and fuel oil were conducted into man-high containers, the residues were pumped into a deeper-lying layer of rock via a second borehole.

  The gasoline pumped out of here would have ruined a modern sports car engine in seconds, but luckily the jeeps had been designed to handle low-grade fuel from the worst banana republics, and could cope with the gunk they mined here. Their engineer and chemist had spent almost a month building the facility. The colonists had cleared the forest around the spring, erected the fences and set up the facility, while staving off attacks from the occasional wotan. Miraculously, nobody had been killed, and what they got in return was worth the effort and the risk: the oil spring and the refinery provided them with warmth, light, electricity, and mobility. Nobody wanted to live without it.

  But all this would be flooded by the incoming ocean two weeks from now. When the floods finally retreated, they would have to completely rebuild everything. Then at least they would be able to work without the permanent threat of being attacked by wild animals, since they’d all have been drowned. And he himself would be long gone.

  “Let’s go!” Ben bellowed. “Everything as discussed! In two hours I want to be heading back home!”

  Russell swung his weapon over his shoulder and climbed up the drill tower, at the top of which was a little viewing platform.

  By the time he reached the top he was dizzy and sluggish; his head felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool. That damn medication! His heart was racing and the palms of his hands were covered in sweat. He balanced his weapon on the railing and looked through the scope. His hands were trembling.

  Shit! If I’m trembling like this, I won’t be able to hit an elephant from a distance of thirty feet!