Pools of Yarah

by J Gurley

  Anderson nudged Hramack when he noticed Hramack’s subtle movements. “What are you doing?”

  Hramack continued moving his hands behind his back. “Trying to save our lives,” he whispered.

  He had no time to explain further. The litter completed, they placed Anderson on it. They none too gently searched Hramack’s pack, strewing its contents on the floor. One of the men smiled when he noticed the silver and turquoise bracelet he had used to scratch the message, Aseara’s gift for Teela. He snatched it off the floor.

  “Give that back!” he yelled at the pilferer.

  The man slapped him across the face with the back of his hand, laughed, and shoved his plunder into his pocket. Then, he tied Hramack’s hands behind his back, slipped a noose around his neck, and dragged him from the room and down the corridor. Hramack prayed Grey Eagle would discover the sign he had left for them.

  28

  Contact!

  Kena awoke with the morning sun shining in his face. It poured onto the platform above the lake. Mists rising from the lake hid it from view. The mountains around them blazed as the first rays of the sun touched the snow-capped peaks turning them golden. Cathi was not beside him. He stood up too quickly and almost fell as his numb legs buckled. The hours of prowling the corridors had taken its toll on his muscles. After a moment of panic, he spotted her crouched beside one of the many antennae that sprouted from the terrace. She had managed to open a metal box at the foot of one of the antenna and was busily working inside it.

  “Good morning, Cathi,” he said.

  Cathi looked up from her work, and with a piece of metal in her mouth, answered, “Good morning, Kena.”

  She smiled at him, making his arms tingle with goose bumps, like a child. He realized something had changed in their relationship. It was no longer simply Healer-patient. He liked the change.

  “What are you doing?”

  She removed the metal from her mouth and stared at him. “I’m trying to utilize the local signal of this array to bounce a message off one of the satellites overhead and contact my ship using my ship’s communicator. I’ve managed to boost the output by piggybacking the power from one of the receivers. Then, I filtered the signal through a series of buffers and modified the frequencies to a narrower spectrum. If I can only compress it sufficiently to squirt it through any interference caused by the localized ionization of the atmosphere, my people may be able to pick it up and trace it back to here.”

  Kena laughed at her reply. “You are speaking a foreign tongue to me. Your words have no meaning. Your people are so much more advanced than us. You must think us awful savages.”

  “No, we are more technologically advanced, but my people are but a poor shadow of what we once were. We have lost much since we left Earth, both materially and spiritually. You believe deeply in your god, Yarah. Some planets have gods or deities, but most of us believe mankind is alone in the universe.”

  “We are never alone,” Kena countered. The idea of not having

  faith mystified him. “Faith is personal, but everyone believes in something more than themselves. It is why men strive. But enough of this. I am no priest to convert you to my beliefs. I gather you have managed to come up with a way to contact your people.”

  “That’s right.” She sat back and drew a deep breath. “Well, here goes.” She adjusted a digital slider on one of the many pieces of electronics in the opened box and touched the microphone in her throat. Kena watched on puzzled.

  “Lieutenant Lorst to the Long John Baldry. Come in Baldry.”

  There was only silence. She moved the slider a little more and jumped when the speaker in her ear emitted a shrill squeal of static loud enough for Kena to hear.

  “Lieutenant Lorst to Captain Moore. Lorst to Captain Moore. Come in Baldry.”

  Faintly at first, but then, as she fine-tuned the controls, more clearly, she heard a voice through the static. She repeated the message for Kena’s bebefit. “This is the Merchant ship Long John Baldry. I read you faintly Lieutenant Lorst. Can you boost your signal?”

  Cathi cried out in glee, “Mims, is that you? Get Captain Moore.” She turned to Kena. “I’ve got them. They heard me.”

  “Captain Moore is busy now, Lieutenant Lorst. We are under attack. I’ve marked your position, but your signal is weak.”

  Cathi frowned. “Under attack? By whom?”

  Mims had left the microphone keyed. She heard the commotion in the control room. “The laser is firing, sir … Damage report”. The last voice, she recognized as Captain Moore’s. Then the signal went dead. She tried repeatedly, almost frantically to raise the ship. Finally, the makeshift connections of her jury-rigged transmitter began to smoke.

  Nearly in tears, she said, “They’re dead. They’re all dead, and it’s my fault. They came to rescue us, and the satellites got them, too. All my friends are dead, and I killed them.”

  “Ridiculous. Anderson said you did everything you could possibly do to land the ship safely. You saved his life. If this Captain Moore is as good as you say he is he would not have blindly followed your ship to Earth without anticipating the possible dangers. There must be dozens of reasons you lost contact with your ship. Perhaps their antenna was damaged, or your receiver failed before we saw the smoke. None of this is your fault. You are a very brave and courageous woman. You cannot give up hope. I need you.”

  She brushed away a tear and said, “Because of me, you and your son are separated. We don’t know where he is. We don’t even know where we are.”

  “Come. If there is nothing more you can accomplish here, we should find the others.” He was afraid for his son, though he did not let on to her. Hramack had led the Marauders away, yet the Marauders had returned. What did that mean for Hramack and Anderson? Were they dead? Somehow, they had to find Grey Eagle and the others. It was time to leave the mountain.

  They took the elevator back down, and then prowled the maintenance corridors before locating a door that led back into the main corridors. Carefully and quietly, they tried to find their way back to the control room corridor. They inspected several rooms as they went, finding rooms filled with pipes and tubing, boxes and bundles, and electronic equipment both large and small. They witnessed small mobile machines picking and choosing items from the warehoused material and disappearing into the walls with it.

  “The automated maintenance robots are continuously repairing the facility using the spare parts and equipment from these storerooms.” Cathi had recovered most of her composure during the long walk. She picked through the boxes and examined some of the contents. “There are many items than might be useful in your village – pumps, generators, computers, and metal rods and pipes.”

  “Perhaps someday I will return for it. Now though, we must find the others.”

  Kena was becoming edgy and nervous. They had seen no signs of the others since yesterday. He had lost all sense of direction in the maze of corridors in the gigantic facility under the mountain. They passed room after room, all bare. The centuries of repairs had emptied the storage rooms with no replacements coming in. Someday, maybe centuries from now, when the last spare part was gone, the pumping station would shut down.

  One large room caught their attention. A large object covered with a tattered tarp sat in the center of the room. The opposite end of the room was a massive sliding door. Driven by curiosity, they removed the tarp. Underneath, they discovered a vehicle obviously designed for flight. It was triangular-shaped with flattened sides flaring out to form thin, curved wings. Two indented steps led to a hatch just forward of the wings. The vehicle rested on three retractable struts.

  “It’s a plane,” Cathi cried out, “or at least some kind of aircraft.” She began examining their discovery. “It looks large enough to carry a dozen people or an equally heavy load. I’m not sure what powers it. I see no obvious engine or exhaust nozzles. Your ancestors might have figured out a way to use antigravity for propulsion as well as lift.”

  Sh
e placed her palm on a raised circular spot beside the door, and it whispered open, revealing the plane’s interior illuminated by light entering through a transparent canopy.

  “The material of the canopy is polarized against the glare of the sun, making it indistinguishable from the rest of the plane.”

  Two seats sat on a slight raised platform at the front of the craft directly beneath the canopy. Other seats in the open rear cargo area popped up from the floor when needed for passengers or remained secured for cargo. A simple joystick controlled the plane, and a panel in front of the two forward seats indicated the status of various functions of the plane. Cathi sat in one of the seats. It moved to wrap around her, securing her in place. She reached out and touched a spot on one of the screens and it brightened at her touch. She examined the various screens, experimenting to determine their function.

  “I’m certain this craft operates on a combination of antigravity for lift and magnetic propulsion for drive, but the power levels are almost on zero. It needs an exterior source of power to charge the magnetic propulsion system. I think it will fly if we can manage to power it up and open the hangar doors. It’s big enough to fly everyone out of here and back to your village.”

  Kena was dumbfounded. “Fly us back. I’ve never flown before.”

  She laughed at Kena’s hesitation. “I’ve never flown one of these planes either. We’ll both be starting even.”

  While Kena tried to quell his concerns about flying through the air, Cathi exited the plane and attached a long power cable from a box on the wall. “There,” she said, wiping her dirty hands on her even dirtier jumpsuit. “That should do it.” She seemed happy to be once again in her element, smiling, as she watched the numbers on the power panel slowly move into the green.

  29

  A Slight Detour

  “They’re alive,” Mims called out. Captain Moore nodded but could spare no time to celebrate. They had managed to destroy one of the defense satellites with the help of the Martian asteroid miners, but others would quickly replace it.

  “Nothing on the scope yet,” Secord reported. Moore walked over to his station and placed his hands on Secord’s shoulders. “Good job. Your invention worked well.”

  “It kept the satellite busy for your little surprise. Keeping the ship in front of the incoming asteroid until the last possible minute fooled the satellite’s tracking system.”

  “We were lucky.”

  “Uh oh. Here come two more satellites.” Secord pointed to two blips approaching from the opposite side of the globe.

  Moore had hoped that only one satellite would replace the one they had destroyed. Two were beyond their ability to outmaneuver, and he had no more asteroid surprises left.

  “What’s their ETA?” he asked.

  “Twelve minutes,” came the reply.

  He shook his head. Even if they ran the risk of a steep reentry, twelve minutes would still place them within range of the satellites’ lasers.

  “What do we do, captain?” Secord asked. The bridge crew stopped what they were doing and waited for his answer. Moore was known for taking chances to edge out the competition. The hazardous journey to Homeworld proved that. Now, they wondered if he would take a similar risk to save crew. His silence contrasted sharply to the raucous barking of orders just a few minutes prior. Everyone wanted to rescue their downed comrades, but knew they could never destroy or disable two defense satellites. The Baldry was a merchant ship, not an armed escort.

  Captain Moore stood silent and toyed with his beard. He had removed the braids and clipped its length upon his return from Mars, much to the surprise of the crew.

  “Bring us about, Mr. Secord,” he ordered. “We’ll come back another day.”

  The relief of the crew was evident.

  “Captain! I’m getting another message from the planet,” Mims yelled across the bridge.

  “Is it Lieutenant Lorst again?”

  “No, sir. It’s someone identifying themselves as Kolkata Dome. They demand to know who we are and why we have destroyed one of their satellites.”

  “Kolkata Dome? By damn, someone is still alive on Earth. Tell them who we are and what we are attempting to do.”

  He turned to the helm crew. “Put us in a steep glide path for Lieutenant Lorst’s last signal.”

  He waited tensely as Mims relayed the message. It boded well that Kolkata Dome had never tried to contact a Mars ship in all these many centuries but were contacting them, but then, Mars had never knocked out one of their satellites. Maybe they were a bit concerned the Baldry was an invader. By heading into Earth’s atmosphere, he had limited their choices. If Kolkata Dome wanted them destroyed, they did not have much of a chance.

  Minutes ticked by as the two satellites drew closer. The satellites’ targeting radars began to home in on them. They would be within range in three minutes. Still, no reply came from Kolkata Dome.

  “Three minutes, sir,” Secord dutifully reported over his shoulder.

  “I can read, Mr. Secord,” he said a bit too sharply. He began fingering his beard. It was beginning to look as if he had blundered badly. He made a decision. “Target the nearest satellite and prepare to fire all missiles on my command.”

  There was a very slim chance one missile would get through and damage the satellite, leaving a gap wide enough to slip through.

  “They are deactivating the defense grid for us,” Mims relayed excitedly. Cheers went up over the ship. Moore let them celebrate for a few seconds before motioning them to silence. “They advise us to land outside their dome and wait for an envoy.”

  “Satellites just went dead and are moving off, Sir,” Secord called out. “But they’re not returning to their original positions,” he added. “They’re lingering in the area.”

  Moore wiped the nervous sweat from his brow. Kolkata Dome was giving them an opening but on their terms. “Perhaps it would be a wise thing to meet these Kolkatans before mounting a rescue for Lieutenant Lorst,” he said. He had ignored Mars’ help, and it had cost him a shuttle. He would not ignore possible help again. “Tell them to relay landing coordinates and then set a low, cruising course for us. I want to see this planet. We’ve been a thousand years getting here.”

  *

  Kolkata Dome glinted brightly in the early morning sun as the Baldry approached over some of the highest and most majestic mountains Captain Moore had ever seen on more than fifty planets he had visited during his career. They marched on, row after row, for thousands of kilometers. Two or three of the largest were nearly ten kilometers high. Snow glistened on their peaks like a dusting of diamonds. Rivers of banded, dirty ice flowed down the valleys between them to form lakes in the high valleys. Earth was far from a dead world. She was slowly recovering from her long ordeal.

  The dome was large – nearly a kilometer high and over sixty kilometers in diameter. Hundreds of smaller buildings of various sizes and shapes butted up against the dome’s flanks and dotted the vast, open plain surrounding it. A small river, its water crystal clear, meandered across the plain. White, long-legged white wading birds dotted the marshy banks. Enormous flocks of other birds swirled and danced in the sky above the river. Herds of animals wheeled and turned as the ship approached. He recognized horses, cattle, sheep, and magnificent gray beasts with long white tusks and large floppy ears. Many more he could not identify.

  Scores of small boats plied the river, some fishing and others carting freight upriver to small villages along the banks. Hundreds of people plowed large, green fields nearby using teams of oxen. He could not help noticing the armed men along the edges of the fields. He did not know if they were there to protect the workers or to keep them from running away. The dome was large to house a million people, but thousands more lived in the small villages and the collection of buildings surrounding the dome. There was no spaceport proper. A small area of level concrete designed for smaller aircraft would have to do. They landed in the middle of the pad, expecting an official deleg
ation to arrive. Instead, a crowd of over one hundred thousand eager people swarmed the ship, yelling and singing. They stood swaying and clapping hands to the accompaniment of drums and horns. The cacophony was audible over the sound of the ship’s engines winding down.

  “It looks as if they’re glad to see us,” Secord commented as he surveyed the crowd.

  “Aye, break out some of that brandy we got on Mars and a couple hundred of those metal tags we got printed up on Mars just for this occasion. We’ll toss out some of the tags and make them happy.”

  “What about the brandy?”

  “That’s for us. We’re the second group of Traders to set foot on Earth in a millennium. That calls for a celebration. The Long John Baldry will go down in history.”

  A roar went up from the crowd as Secord opened the hatch and started tossing out metal tags. Moore had ordered printed tags that read, “Peoples of Earth – We have returned.” The crowd scrambled for them as if they were 100-credit chips. Eventually, the crowd parted as a long black automobile slowly made its way to the pad.

  Several men and a woman wearing long, flowing robes exited the vehicle and passed through the crowd to the ship. The people in the crowd bowed and backed away deferentially as they approached. Captain Moore, bedecked in his finest uniform, strode to the end of the gangway and stood waiting with Secord. One of the dignitaries, a tall, thin woman wearing a white robe glittering with gold embroidery along the cuffs of the sleeves, the hem, and the high collar, broke away and approached. She moved gracefully with deceivingly short steps that brought her to stand before them quickly.

  “Captain Moore?” she asked in a soft, musical voice. Her accent was as fluid as her voice, but her pronunciation was meticulously exact, as if Standard English was not her native tongue.

  Moore swaggered forward. “I’m Captain Moore.”