by JC Ryan
When the familiar hiss announced that the awakening cycle for the L’gundo woman was complete, he drew his weapon and carefully moved toward it just as the cover came fully open.
He drew in a sudden breath as a dark-haired woman sat up exposing her stunning, bare upper body to his view. Viktor swallowed hard, barely noticing her beautiful lips and brown eyes as he focused on her perfectly shaped breasts, staring at the nipples, hardened from the cold. He felt his groin respond to the beauty and fitness of her young luscious-looking athletic body as she clambered out of the pod. She was a little on the shorter side of average height with well-muscled legs and hips, firm buttocks, and luring skin that looked too soft and smooth not to touch.
She turned to face him and, recognizing him she frowned, hatred and anger immediately washed over her face.
“You,” She hissed through her teeth.
“Yes. Me.” Viktor replied as he leveled his weapon at her. “There is a problem in the control room—the pressure is rising in something. I need your help.”
“How long—”
“I don’t know. I’ve only had time to check the equipment and wake you and Soltan up.”
She gave the tall, dark haired man a withering look, hate radiating from her eyes. “You are the one called Viktor, are you not?” She hissed.
With a slight incline of his head he answered, “Yes, I am Viktor.”
She exploded in rage. “You and your soldiers came in here and killed everyone, including my son. Then you reanimated us and put us into the deep sleep. Where is my son? And what makes you imagine I would want to help you?”
“The reason you will want to help me is simple—if you don’t, we might all be dead soon, this time forever, and that includes your son.”
“Where is my son? Where is the rest of my team?”
Viktor pointed to the pod next to hers, “Your son.” He said and then waved his hand at the rest of the pods in the row, “The surviving members of your team. And we,” he pointed to Soltan and himself, “are the only ones who have the code that can start their wake-up routine.”
“Then start it,” the woman snapped.
“Yes, of course, I will—” he paused for a few moments, smirking, “just as soon as you have resolved the technical problems, and not one moment before. Understood?”
She glowered at him. “Well, Viktor,” she emphasized his name with hostility, “in that case—I am Telestra, and I suggest you let me put on some clothes, and we go have a look at the problem.”
***
Two more worrying earth trembles shook the place while Telestra was busy reviewing the data retrieved from the control room.
Soltan had forced his way into the storage area, and one of the sealed food storage boxes. He brought back packages of preserved food. He and Viktor were sitting at the round, white, marble table in the control room eating from bowls that contained a green colored mushy looking substance.
Telestra joined them at the table. “What is that?” she asked indicating the green mush that was rapidly disappearing into their mouths.
“Vegetables,” Soltan responded, “ugly, tasteless, and nourishing vegetables.”
Without looking up from the food in front of him, Viktor added, “Between the chemical preservatives and the flash freeze-dry process it leaves everything tasteless. By the time they get through pulverizing it with the vitamin additives, you can’t tell what you’re eating. But it keeps you alive and...”
When he looked up from his bowl, Viktor noted Telestra’s worried expression, paused mid-sentence and asked, “What’s going on?”
“This installation was built at this location because of the subterranean volcanic activity that occurs here. All the power for the facility comes from the hot gasses released by the magma from the mantle. Those gasses flow through the four natural fissures that occur here and our equipment harnesses the gas, controls the flow of it, and utilizes it to generate power to the facility. One of the flow regulator valve mechanisms has failed, and pressure is building up in the other fissures as a result.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means that if that regulator isn’t repaired, and very quickly, there will be a devastating explosion and this installation will be blown into pieces; very small, very hot pieces, as a new volcano is born.”
Soltan stared at her—alarmed. “Can you repair it?”
“Definitely not by myself; the pressure is already dangerously high in fissure three and starting to rise in fissures two and four. I’m not sure if it can be stopped in time.”
“What do you need?” Viktor asked.
“I need my colleagues; they know how to operate this equipment. Did you happen to leave any of them alive?” she asked sarcastically.
Viktor clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her. “There are some.”
“Then I suggest you wake them up so we can get to work.” She had a slight grin when she added, “unless you want to be dead—forever.”
Viktor stood up and moved as if to examine the gauges again. If I wake up more of the L’gundo, will Soltan and I be able to keep control? He weighed his options while pacing the room.
Telestra went back to the control panel and studied the gauges.
Soltan joined him and matched his steps. He whispered, “I think we’d better wake the L’gundo scientists.”
“That goes without saying. The challenge is maintaining control over them after they have been awakened.” Viktor spoke softly and slowly. “Go to the pod room and wake twenty of our soldiers. When the soldiers’ wake-up cycle is halfway done, start the cycles on ten of the L’gundo scientists. Stay there and when our soldiers are awake, apprise them of the situation and give them their orders. But don’t wake up her son—under any circumstances.”
“On my way,” Soltan acknowledged, turning to leave the control center.
***
Telestra wiped the sweat from her brow. It was already too hot in the fissure access area. She had been examining the malfunctioning mechanism and thought they were going to be lucky if they could save the installation. She had already concluded that they would probably be unable to stop the explosion. Her highest priority was to wake up her son and as many as possible of her team and then try to escape.
I need my son, and I need my team, and I need them now! She thought with frustration, but there was no hurrying the awakening process—doing so had ghastly consequences as they had learned while developing the process. She had seen the dusty remains in two of the pods on her way out of the pod room earlier.
She slowly walked the edges of the access area weighing her options—working on a plan. Wondering if she had considered everything—maybe she could stop the explosion. But she wouldn’t know that without having her team around her. The rock walls of the fissure access cavern were a stark contrast to the immaculate white walls of the rest of the facility. Here in this rough, dirty, cavern was the raw power that provided them with clean, comfortable living spaces and all the energy they needed to run the facility. Staring at the rock walls and knowing the fissures that were behind them made her marvel, not just at the force of the Earth itself, but the ingenuity of her ancestors who learned to harness the power of a forming volcano and tame it for their use.
These fissures are just the tip; they extend down for hundreds of miles to the mantle. Gas that was stored as a fluid, more than 1,800 miles below the earth’s crust, was seeping through the mantle into the fissures. If not for my ancestors learning to control the flow of the gas, it would have grown to become a volcano, spewing toxic gasses and molten lava onto the surface of the planet.
As another tremor rolled through the Earth, it was a relief to hear the stumbling footsteps of her colleagues, herded by the soldiers. Her heart dropped when she noticed her son was not amongst them.
“Where is my son?” She asked fiercely.
“He’s not a scientist.” Viktor retorted. “He will be awakened only when you and your team have fixed this prob
lem. Now get on with it.”
Telestra’s eyes were filled with fury as she fought against the impulse to jump on Viktor like a tigress and rip his throat out.
Her team, blinking and confused, gathered around her to hear what she had to say. There was no time to talk about anything else. Viktor stood nearby leaning against the rock wall, arms folded over his chest.
Slowly she got her emotions under control and started talking to her team. “Here’s the situation. Due to a shift in the fissure, most likely caused by the recent tremors, the flow regulator valves in Fissure One have been crushed in a closed position—blocking all flow.”
The entire team looked alarmed, instantly recognizing it could not be repaired. They began talking nervously among themselves.
Soltan and some of the soldiers saw their anxiety and looked to Viktor for his reaction.
Viktor presented a calm front to his men, but he felt the muscles in his gut tightening. If the L’gundo are this worried, it must be more critical than I thought.
“Settle down everyone, settle down,” Telestra commanded. “Fissure Three is amber, and Fissures Two and Four are green. I need you to organize yourselves into four teams.” She gave them a few moments to organize themselves into the requested teams.
“Team one.” Two people stepped forward. “Look at Fissure One and see if you can find a way to open those flow regulator valves.” The two team members looked at each other in disbelief. The regulator was crushed—it could not be repaired. What was she thinking? They would have to look for alternatives.
“Team two.” Three people stepped forward. “Work on releasing some of the pressure from Fissure Three.” They looked at one another in dismay. This was a dangerous assignment and almost certainly meant death. Should the pressure reach critical levels while they were inside the fissure they wouldn’t have time to… well, they just wouldn’t have time for anything.
“Teams three and four,” four people stepped forward in sets of two. “You work on Fissures Two and Four, coordinate with Team Two to try to divert some pressure from Fissure Three and funnel it through Fissures Two and Four. Dekka and I will go up to monitor and assist you from the control room.”
She saw Dekka look at her sharply, but she didn’t acknowledge him—she hoped none of Viktor’s men noticed. Dekka wasn’t a geological scientist; he was a biomechanical engineer who worked with nanotechnology. If there was an explosion, the control room might survive, and if it did, she would need his expertise.
Viktor snapped a look at her, suddenly alert, “No! All of you L’gundo will stay down here and work; none of you are going to be allowed in the control room.”
Telestra rounded on him, “Excuse me? I thought you wanted help with this problem.”
“You will all work from down here.” Viktor snapped. He didn’t like being challenged in front of his men.
“Do you or any of your soldiers know how to interpret the readings on our equipment and make the necessary adjustments as they are needed?” She snapped back.
“No. But you can monitor and make adjustments from here.” Soldier mentality—give them command, and it goes to their head.
“Look, Viktor,” she fairly spat the words at him. “That is not an option. The equipment can be adjusted from here, but the main controls, readouts, and programmed adjustments are in the control room—the two have to be worked in conjunction.
“You are going to have to allow at least the two of us into the control room—there should be four of us, but two is the bare minimum.”
Viktor hesitated. He didn’t want the L’gundo to have access to the control room. He didn’t know enough about it and wasn’t sure what they might be able to do with what was accessible on the many panels. “You, Telestra, may work from the control room, but no one else.”
“I assume you like the idea of a hot molten lava-lined casket then, because that’s what this place is going to be for all of us.”
“I think you are making more out of this than it really is to trick us and regain control of the installation.”
“You are a fool!” she exploded in exasperation.
“Then explain the situation to me so that I can understand it.”
“We don’t have time for this!”
“We will make the time.”
“Fine, send Dekka to the control room so he can get started, and I will explain this to you.” I just hope Dekka will be able to fake his way through it for a few minutes until I can convince this idiot.
Viktor nodded his agreement. “Soltan, take a soldier with you and take Dekka to the control room. Monitor what he does and if he tries anything stupid—kill him, and I mean kill him forever.”
Telestra and Dekka looked at each other in disbelief and shook their heads. Then Dekka turned and followed Soltan and another soldier as they left for the control room. “Good luck,” Dekka mumbled, “you’re going to need it.”
“Teams, get moving!” Telestra said as she glowered at Viktor.
The teams scattered to the nearby lockers and under the watchful eyes of the soldiers, gathered their equipment, donned their protective suits and headed into the fissure accesses.
“Alright, Viktor, here’s a quick science lesson for you,” Telestra was furious, and she made no attempt to hide her disdain as she spoke measuredly. “This facility collects and disperses highly volatile gasses from the magma in the Earth’s mantle. This is done by sealing off and controlling the gas released from the four natural fissure vents that are present here. The flow regulators are what control the flow of the gases and thus the pressure in each fissure.
“If the flow is not regulated properly to control the pressure it will cause a devastating explosion.
“There are four zones, or pressure levels, and a color associated with each one. In the normal operational zone, the pressure level is between zero and one and is colored blue. On occasion, more power is necessary, and the pressure is allowed to rise to level two, this is the warning zone and colored green.
“The danger zone, between level two and three, is colored amber. The only time the pressure reaches this level is when something has malfunctioned. If the pressure reaches level three, red, a blast is imminent.
“Right now, the pressure in Fissure Three is approaching level three, the red level. If you have paid any attention to what I’ve just told you; can you tell me what that means?”
Viktor didn’t reply, he grabbed her arm, turned, and dragged her toward the control room.
***
Telestra watched in horror as the pressure in Fissure Three reached the mid-point of level three. She had no idea what was preventing the explosion, but she was now sure it was coming.
“Get them out of there!” she screamed. “Get them out of there!” Her fear for her colleagues and friends working in the fissures was palpable.
“No. Keep working. You have to stop this!” Viktor yelled.
The argument had started a short time ago when Fissure Three had reached level three. Telestra and Dekka both knew they were fighting a losing battle and had tried to reason with Viktor but to no avail.
Dekka shouted, “There is no stopping this you idiot! The ground tremors have caused physical shifts in the fissure, there is no way of unlocking those flow regulator valves, and the relief systems are at maximum capacity.”
Viktor grabbed Dekka by the front of his shirt with his left hand and clenched his other fist to punch Dekka in the face, but the sound of rumbling stopped him as the tremor rolled under their feet and through the rock walls, stronger than ever before.
“The explosion is about to happen! If you don’t get them all out of there, they will die! Get them out and seal off the facility or we will all die!” Dekka yelled.
Viktor glanced over at the pressure gauges. Fissure Three’s indicator was red—in the blast zone—Fissures Two and Four were both amber and nearing the red line.
“Evacuate!” He shouted. “Then seal off the facility.”
Solta
n repeated the command over the intercom. He, Viktor, Telestra, and Dekka watched on the video feed as the scientists and soldiers scampered out of the fissure access area.
Telestra gave a sigh of relief, but it was premature. Another tremor rumbled through the ground, and she saw the telltale signs near the opening of Fissure Three. A soft glow had appeared, and although she couldn’t hear it, she could see on the faces of those remaining in the access area that they could hear the hiss and pop as the gases began to ignite.
“Run!” she screamed.
Chapter 2- A bright flash came from the sky
The forest is unusually quiet, lifeless. Petya thought as he shouldered his rifle and paused to listen for the sounds of animals. He heard nothing; no birdsong, no scuttling of small animals in the underbrush, not even a breeze stirring the leaves of the trees. I haven’t seen or heard any animals all morning—strange.
Sunshine brightened his brown hair and warmed his thin face and arms. Petya was small for his age, but he was a skilled hunter, never failing to bring home food to help feed the family. Not many thirteen-year-olds were as dedicated to helping their families as he was; his parents took great pride in him.
He left the house in Moga Village early this June morning, to hunt for game near the Tunguska River. By sun-up, he had traveled nearly three miles.
Standing on a rocky ridge, he surveyed the area around him for any sign of wildlife. The forest was a dark summer-green, as it should be this time of year, the sky a beautiful blue—unblemished by clouds.
There should be a breeze and birds soaring on the currents. Where is everything?
Then the ground shifted under his feet. It was the third time this morning he had felt the tremors. This time it seemed stronger than before.
Perhaps the tremors are frightening the animals, and they have all gone into hiding.
As he picked his way across the ridge, an unfamiliar feeling of fear started to spread through him.