Several seconds later the light came back on in Adam’s head as he quickly recovered, the acceleration lessening to a more reasonable 3-G. Annoyingly, the tip of his nose started itching, however, the effort of raising his arm to scratch it in the increased gravity wasn’t worth it for any sudden movement of the lifeboat might whip his arm around and whack it into his head. He remained still, his hands gripping the armrests to keep them safe.
“What’s happened Vimes?” he thought to his fully returned companion, now released from having to support the yachts failing systems.
“We were about to lose control to the IP, so I jettisoned you before it could stop us from leaving. A few seconds more and it would have had us trapped,” came the reply.
Unexpectedly, the viewscreen in front of Adam lit brightly with a view of a massive fireball streaking across the sky at high speed, followed by a second, much smaller one which followed the same trajectory but was sinking lower into the atmosphere. The first suddenly exploded into a gigantic fireball of light and released energy, for a few seconds lighting up the night sky of the planet below, strong enough to leave strong after-images in the eyes of anyone looking upwards at the night sky.
“That was the shipboard Vimes using the total conversion drive to self-destruct, stopping the IP from attacking this lifeboat. The second, smaller fireball is us and once the automatic pilot has slowed us to a more reasonable speed through the atmosphere, we will become undetectable to any ground-based observers.”
Vimes continued, “Anyone looking at the spectacle will assume we were a smaller part of a much larger meteorite which broke off and burnt up in the atmosphere.”
“Has the sudden departure affected our agreed landing zone?” Adam asked, “Or are we still on course?”
“The lifeboat tells me we are slightly further north than planned, but we will still impact Great Britain, however instead of the mainland it will be on a large, butterfly-shaped island to the West of Scotland. The local designation is Skye. This will work to our advantage as it is relatively uninhabited, with less risk of our landing being observed.”
Adam requested flight information from the lifeboat and it began passing through his vision, updating him on what was happening outside. They had quickly dropped away from the original trajectory and were now only several yards above sea level, moving at a greatly reduced speed. Now that deceleration was complete, he was feeling more comfortable and able to move his arms normally. At last, he could scratch that annoying itch.
They would be landing in a few minutes and Adam was watching the sea flash past underneath, still illuminated by the lingering traces of light left by the yachts violent end. The lifeboats external sensors, although basic, produced a crystal clear three dimensional view of the water and terrain ahead. Vimes was overlaying the scene with place names and Adam smiled at the strange words. The islands on the right were named Tiree, Coll, and Harris whilst on the left Uist loomed large. Shortly thereafter the lifeboat entered Loch Bracadale and began decelerating hard, keeping low until rising sharply to skim noiselessly over a group of white buildings he assumed were dwellings, some of which were emitting a yellow light from their windows. Now so close to landing, Adam gave the lifeboat instructions to head for the semi-plateau that rose up behind a small group of buildings and follow a small stream that dropped down from the deserted interior, covered in peat bogs and purplish moss-like vegetation.
Moving inland until no lights or any sort of dwellings could be seen, Adam hovered the small lifeboat twenty feet above the watery terrain, using ground penetrating sensors to search between the rocky outcrops for a deep pocket of peat sufficiently large enough to bury it in. After a few seconds of searching, he found one then dropped the nose and forced the craft downwards, burrowing deep until only the upper part was level with the surface.
Adam decided to get out and make sure nothing could be seen of the lifeboat, for he did not want to take any chance it might be discoverable. The hull was undetectable to the technologies of this planet but was still vulnerable to being seen with the naked eye, especially from up close, even when cloaked. Grateful to be alive and safely down, Adam left the crash coach and pulled himself up to the hatch that now formed above him. On opening it, cold, damp air immediately dropped into the warm cabin. He immediately closed it, chastising himself for not having checked the outside temperature and dressing accordingly.
“If I am to survive on this world,” he told himself, “I will need to start thinking through my actions rather than just doing and taking things for granted.”
Climbing over the stacks of equipment that had been fastened to the floor for safe keeping in anticipation of the trip down, Adam opened a wall locker and withdrew the survival suits which Vimes had specifically designed to blend in with the clothing currently fashionable in this part of the world. Multi-part, unlike the normal form fitting one piece he was used to, it consisted of trousers, an undershirt of some kind with a noisy fastening that consisted of hooks and loops, finished off with an overcoat and integral hood.
Quickly removing his current clothing and donning the unfamiliar new ones, he felt restricted and cumbersome wearing them. He wondered how the people could tolerate feeling so constrained. Although made from modern fabrics that regulated body temperature and drew away moisture, to pass casual inspection they mimicked the look and feel of local materials. The coat was fastened with a device called a zip and he had problems using it until a short demonstration appeared in his vision, courtesy of Vimes. He realised there was so much to learn about life on this backwards planet.
Pulling the integral hood over his head, Adam reformed the hatch and easily pulled himself out into the chill night air. Taking a deep breath, he was immediately struck by how different this planet smelt to anywhere else he’d been in the Empire. It was slightly reminiscent of Capital but with an indefinable, yet likeable difference. He took several more deep breaths, savouring the sensation. Gravity was the same here, or so close to Capital’s that he couldn’t tell the difference.
Looking south-west, following the flight-path they had taken, Adam could see no trace left of the massive fireball high in the atmosphere, however, exotic particles and energy from the explosion had interacted with the planet's magnetic field, generating an aurora borealis in the night sky. Red and green streams of almost fluorescent light gently waved across the sky, making an impressive backdrop to the rocky outcrops. Drawing his eyes away from the spectacle, Adam looked down at the boggy ground they had chosen for the lifeboats resting place. Already the displaced groundwater and peat was moving back to completely hide any trace of the craft. Once the hatch was closed, all that was needed to completely hide it would be for the lifeboat to settle a few inches more into the soil laden water.
Satisfied nothing could be seen, Adam dropped back into the cramped cabin and from a locker collected a small bundle of notes that represented the currency of Great Britain. In denominations signified by £50 on the top left-hand corner, he calculated there were around fifty notes in the bundle. Vimes assured him this was sufficient for now. He regretted again both having to leave his father’s exo-suit behind in the doomed yacht and the lack of exotic heavy weaponry aboard the ship, for although he was aware there were no wild animals in this part of the world capable of seriously hurting him, walking around in a potentially hostile country was not a pleasant prospect.
Rummaging through the survival kit, he placed around his right wrist a small tracker to enable him to find his way back to the lifeboat. The very expensive timepiece on his left wrist, the one that the manufacturer claimed could be set to any planet in the Empire with minimal trouble, was useless here, so he reluctantly left it behind, instead opting for a thick-set smart-metal survival armband that was capable of transforming into a number of items, including a mono-molecular knife or walking stick. Covering his left forearm from wrist to elbow, it was reassuringly heavy and gave him a much-needed sense of security. Joining the others was his last piece o
f equipment, a set of night vision lenses. He looked longingly at the emergency firearms fixed to the wall but reluctantly decided against taking one with him.
Leaving the lifeboat, Adam took his bearings carefully, noting a few landmarks to identify the site, then began walking across the moor towards the last set of dwellings he’d seen.
“It will take me about ten minutes,” he thought, setting off at a steady pace and welcoming the chance to stretch his muscles on a long walk after being cooped up in the yacht for so many hours.
After fifteen minutes Adam found a dirt track and wondered if he had made a mistake in hiding the lifeboat nearby, but on looking closer was relieved to see it hadn’t been used for a long time. “Let’s hope it stays that way,” he muttered to himself. He looked ahead, marking the route in his mind, then began humming along to a tune that suddenly came into his head, trying to match his footsteps to the beat.
Scene 16, Aurora Borealis
Karen was listening in the dark to Pavarotti on her iPhone, when the living room was suddenly illuminated by a bright flash that turned night into day, instinctively making her flinch and look out the window. Everything outside was clearly illuminated and through the full-length picture window she could see a huge fireball high in the sky, rapidly expanding as she watched. Another, smaller streak was visible for a few seconds before vanishing. Remembering the previous year’s meteorite explosion over Russia, she stood up and hurried to the window, reaching it just as darkness began returning. Looking out and up into the darkening night sky, she could see the fireball was dimming as it expanded. Whilst she watched it faded away, swallowed up by the dark, leaving behind an imprint on her retina.
“Wow, that was amazing,” she said to herself, torn between staying in and looking to see if it was reported on the nine o’clock news, or putting on a warm overcoat and going outside in case there were any more. She thought the chances of a repeat were slim, but there might be other, smaller meteorites to see if the big explosion was the forerunner of a meteor shower. Deciding to risk it, Karen picked up her mobile phone and a torch from the kitchen. Living on Skye with its frequent power outages during periods of bad weather meant that there was an ample supply of candles, matches, and torches to hand at all times. Alastair had thoughtfully brought her old green Wellington boots down from the attic and left them in the porch for her to use. She wriggled into them, glad she had decided to wear thick socks as they felt cold on her feet.
With her dark brown overcoat wrapped tightly around her and torch in hand, she ventured out into the cold, crisp evening and headed along the dark gravel driveway towards the gate and cattle grid. With the nearest street lights coming from half a mile away, her only illumination was a torch and the faint glow emanating from a few occupied cottages across the loch. Many of the cottages nearby were dark and empty this time of year, used mainly as holiday lets. In the distance she could see others who had the same idea about going outside to watch the light show, huddling on their doorsteps and looking up into the night sky, which was now turning a beautiful green and red. Walking out onto the road she followed the grass verge, facing any oncoming traffic.
She began walking up the hill towards the village centre, consisting of a small general store, a strange bohemian second-hand clothes shop and not much else, but it did afford an uninterrupted view over the loch and out to sea which was her reason for making the trek. On her phone, the music had changed and Pavarotti was starting to sing. She stopped walking and spent at least ten minutes concentrating on the light show in the sky above and listening to the music. Standing still, the cold began to seep through her clothes so Karen started walking again. In the distance, about one hundred yards away, the torchlight illuminated a figure walking towards her.
Entranced by the beautiful light show above and Pavarotti’s marvellous rendition of Nessun Dorma in her ears, Karen switched off her torch for a moment in the hope it would give her a better view, wanting to enjoy the Aurora Borealis without any interference from the powerful beam. She also thought it would be rude to dazzle the other lone walker as he might lose his night vision and slip into the gulley which ran alongside the road. The last thing she wanted to do on a night like this was minister to a stranger’s broken ankle. A strange man walking towards her along an unlit street at night would have made her uncomfortable back in Inverness, but here on Skye she felt safe and paid him no heed. A pleasant hello and a brief chat about the light show and explosion would be the worst she might have to endure when they passed each other.
She fleetingly wondered why he was walking away from the lights but dismissed it as Pavarotti hit the high note and made her feel quite emotional. For a long time it had been her favourite song and never failed to move her, so when teamed with this marvellous display she could feel herself melting inside.
“All in all, tonight is turning out to be a simply wonderful evening,” she thought.
Raising her head to continue watching the display, she caught a sudden movement and realised the stranger was running towards her at high speed. Almost reaching where she was standing, he shouted out something in an unintelligible language and before she could react, with a tremendous display of strength and power, he had lifted her bodily off the road and thrown her into the gulley. An instant later her attacker was swatted away as if he never existed by a large lorry that mounted the grass verge where she had been standing, then careered across the road as the driver fought for control after skidding on the wet grass verge. She could hear the tyres squealing as the brakes locked before it finally came to a stop further up the hill. Of her mysterious benefactor, there was no sign. Sitting up in the gulley, Karen switched on the torch still gripped tightly in her hand and shone it in the direction of the lorry, realising with a sickening feeling that it looked as if someone was trapped underneath the vehicle.
Berating herself for being so stupid for not paying any attention to the possibility of traffic coming from behind, she pulled herself out of the gully, thankful that her fall had been cushioned by the water and thick spongy mosses that lined its sides. Her headphones had fallen out of both ears and she could just make out their tinny sound as they dangled aimlessly down from her neck. Karen ran towards the lorry, the beam from her torch bobbing up and down, watching as the cab door opened and the driver jumped down. He shouted out, saying he’d hit someone and began to walk around his truck, clearly in a daze.
Slightly out of breath from the uphill run and shock, Karen reached the lorry and shone her torch underneath. Not seeing anything at first, she felt relief, but then saw a mangled body partially wedged into one of the inside rear wheel arches. Steeling herself, she shouted out to the driver to check if he’d put the handbrake on.
“Yes, sorry, so sorry, I didn’t see him, yes I did,” came the shocked response.
Trusting that the driver really had the presence of mind to have done so, she crawled under the lorry to get a closer look. The dead man was tightly wedged between tyre and wheel arch, his head hanging loosely down. His left temple was scraped down to the bone and an eye was missing, having been ripped out as the poor man was dragged face down along the tarmac. The right arm, covered in cloth that had remained surprisingly intact, hung out at a strange angle with blood running down from the wrist to the middle finger before dripping slowly onto the wet ground.
“Oh God, you poor man,” she thought, torn between compassion for his fate and relief at not being hit herself. “You poor, brave man.”
Blinking away tears, Karen crawled nearer, smelling old grease, diesel, and hot melted rubber. As she crawled, Karen tried to avoid staring at his face, keeping her head down and ignoring the cold and damp seeping into her trousers and knees. Pieces of gravel bit into her palms and knees but she ignored them, focusing on doing her job. She put the torch on the ground, angling it so the wheel arch was illuminated without dazzling her.
The driver had come over and asked under the lorry if there was anything he could do. Biting back a sudden im
pulse to scream “drive more fecking carefully,” she told him to ring for the Police if he hadn’t already done so. Out of habit, Karen reached up and felt for a pulse from the man’s right wrist. Expecting nothing she was surprised, then horrified when she felt a very slow yet regular thump.
“Sweet Jesus the man’s still alive!” she said out loud.
With now trembling hands, Karen reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her mobile phone, praying the throw and fall into the gulley hadn’t damaged it. Relieved it was still working, she went through its address book until she found the number of the Air Ambulance station back at Raigmore Hospital. Dialling it she prayed the signal wouldn’t fail. Within moments, a familiar voice answered the phone. Karen interrupted her friend and quickly set out what had happened and where she was, making it very clear there would be trouble if one of the two helicopters wasn’t immediately sent to her location. She asked for the helicopter crew to ring her back when they were on their way. Finally, she made sure they had her mobile number and then hung up.
Karen was faced with a dilemma. She didn’t want to risk any spinal damage, but she couldn’t leave the man wedged between the tyre and wheel arch for any longer than was necessary, for at the very least he probably had multiple broken ribs and difficulty breathing. What she could see of his legs indicated he might well need one or both amputated so she made the tough decision and called the driver over to help her pull the trapped man free. Reluctant to help her at first, she swore loudly and ordered him to come over. He was still reluctant, but her shouted threat to “hunt him down and shoot him like a dog,” once this was over seemed to decide things and he came over to help. Between the two of them, they eased the wedged body out of the arch and pulled it out from under the rear of the lorry.
Karen checked the heartbeat again and was relieved to still find one, albeit slow and regular. She set about trying to remove his overcoat to get a better look at his chest injuries and was surprised at the materials feel. Putting that to one side, she asked the driver if he had any blankets as she needed to keep the victim warm. None were available so she instructed him to run over to the nearest house showing lights and ask for several blankets. As he ran off, her mobile rang.
Imperium: Betrayal: Book One in the Imperium Trilogy Page 14