The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books

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The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 96

by John Thornton


  There was silence in the simulated office of Doctor Chambers.

  Finally Sandie answered. “Because I am afraid of being alone?” The AI’s voice was tiny and timid. “I do not want to go on without Jerome and Cammarry. It might fail, and leave me alone on a derelict and broken ship orbiting an alien world.”

  “And there it is.”

  “The decision has been made.” Sandie stood up. “The Model 14S is being prepped by TA-242. It will be launched when ready.”

  “Do you have a name for your rescue mission?” Doctor Chambers asked.

  “Operation Faithful Lightning.” Sandie said over her simulated shoulder as she opened the office door and departed. “From an old song lyric.”

  “Jerome would like that, I think. Please let me know how it goes!”

  In the physical world, the yellow automacube, TA-242 finished imputing the commands Sandie had given. The storage compartment’s doors, which had the label ‘Mothballed Model 14S’ stenciled on them, rolled back into pockets in the walls. The rear hatch of the Model 14S shuttle closed down, sealing in all the technological and mechanical components which had been securely packed in place. Sandie had used every trick, every connection, and every bit of her artificial intelligence and advanced engineering skills to modify the shuttle to be as effective for the rescue mission as possible. “Thanks Brink!” Sandie had said often when she reworked the old Conestoga’s systems with new designs from Dome 17. The cabin, with its two command seats and four passenger seats, began pressurization. All seals, gaskets, doors, and hatches read operational. Lights lit up on the display screen on the cockpit. The interior and mechanical aspects of the rescue shuttle were ready. Sandie quadruple checked the nonphysicality connection to the command systems of the shuttle. All was as secure as Sandie could make them.

  The final cleansing of the exterior was done. The shuttle was boxy shaped, dull white in color with maroon trim, and a label painted near its nose, read ‘NS-99’. The tips of the Model 14S’s wings angled down at about fifteen degrees from level. All horizontal surfaces were coated with the growth medium which was nearly ubiquitous throughout the needle ship. The thruster nozzles were visible on the ends of the wings, but they were capped. TA-242 used its manipulation arm to remove those caps. It then rolled around the shuttle and used an extension hose which came from the wall to blast the remaining accumulated dust and the remnant of growth material from its exterior. The high power pneumatic system scrubbed the shuttle clean, down to the colored permalloy. Growth medium along with small mushroom plants and other foliage ripped from the horizontal surfaces of the hull. That debris was blown off and sucked away by garbage removal system.

  The shuttle lurched a bit as a chain connected to its front docking clamp. The clamp released from the floor, but seized onto the chain. The shuttle dragged slowly forward on its three landing skids, as the storage compartment’s entire floor rotated and tipped. The floor stopped as it reached a position forty-five degrees from where it had been, and with the rear of the shuttle elevated at thirty degrees incline. TA-242 rolled around the shuttle again, sending back detailed assessments to Sandie the AI.

  Sandie issued another command, again using the Machine Maintenance code to override the security locks placed on the mothballed shuttle. The floor rotated another forty-five degree, and tipped at a steeper angle. A new set of doors slid open, leading to a conveyance-way. The shuttle was dragged up onto the conveyance slideway which then activated and moved the shuttle along. TA-242 was recalled to come to the Goat Room near where the FTL scout was docked. The automacube complied.

  The doors to the mothballed storage room closed as the shuttle moved away. It passed doors marked, ‘Pine 1206’, and a scorched door marked ‘Pine 1407’ as well as several other doors too coated with gunk to read. Finally the conveyance stopped before a door marked, ‘Emergency Escape’ where the slideway stopped. A pressure door closed behind the shuttle.

  “Emergency escape system activated. Emergency escape system activated. Emergency escape system activated.” The recorded voice spoke, but only Sandie the AI heard, and only through the links now active on the shuttle.

  The recorded voice altered. “Shuttle is unoccupied. Shuttle is unoccupied. Confirm launch. Confirm launch.”

  Sandie sent the confirmation codes. Then the AI Sandie spoke aloud. “Yes, I am doing this alone.” No one heard what was spoken.

  “Emergency escape system confirmed. Launch proceeding,” the old Conestoga recording stated.

  Gravity manipulation ceased in the launch tube. The shuttle disconnected from the chain drive. The clamps were withdrawn. The exterior doors on the needle ship opened. The blackness of space was exposed. Sandie’s perceptions, routed though the mechanisms on NS-99 noted that. With a blast of thrusters, which would have been dangerous had human occupants been aboard NS-99, the shuttle was jettisoned out of the Conestoga. It swept away in a quick arc, and then looped over the needle ship. Red light from the sun blazed over the shuttle as it emerged from the shadow of the needle ship. It flew toward the bright green of the planet Zalia.

  “Faithful Lightning, the rescue mission, has commenced,” Sandie said through speakers in the shuttle. No one heard her.

  10 reunion and rescue Attempt

  The light from the brightening sky tube fluttered over Jerome’s eyes, as he lay on his side, elbow bent, arm under his head. He rolled to the other side, but the light was still shining down.

  Yawning, Jerome rolled onto his back. “So bright,” he mumbled as he placed a hand over his face. The arm was heavy and stiff.

  The sound of water rushing and lapping nearby resonated in his ears. He considered trying again to roll over and sleep, but then opened his eyes. “Faraday?” Jerome asked, but then realized where he was. With a start he sat up. Noises were everywhere. There were strange buzzing sounds around his ears, and he swatted at them. The small insects flew off leaving several small lumps where they had sampled Jerome’s blood.

  The pier felt harder than ever. There was a dampness over his left side, and it took him a moment to realize that a fine mist was splashing up from where water was striking the pier’s edge.

  “The river?” Jerome said and stood up. He wiped himself off. “Water is certainly rising fast. Manu, Noah, and Utnapishtim may have been right.”

  The river was up to where its old banks had appeared to be. The waves were muddy and twigs, bark, and various other biological flotsam and jetsam floated by. Clumps of that had clogged areas where small bushes had grown up during the drought years. Those bushes were now submerged in water with only their tips sticking up out of the rushing waters. The waters were mesmerizing as they flowed by.

  “Atlantis, Cantre'r Gwaelod, Lemuria. Could those myths have really been real? Many great deluges have taken place and so many changes. There has never been any considerable force to stand against a flood. The mountains have fallen away all round and sunk out of sight. There are remaining only the bones of the wasted land.” Jerome closed his eyes and began to stretch his muscles in a callisthenic ritual. “Wait! The animal!” His eyes snapped open. “Did it drown?”

  Looking around, Jerome saw the saddle and harness where he had laid then on the dock. He rushed past them calling out. “Old Bill! Hey horse! Where are you?”

  The horse plodded out from behind some trees and looked at him. Grass was between the horse’s teeth and he chewed a bit in a side to side kind of way moving his lips and tongue in rhythm to his jaws. The horse was well away from the river’s edge, with the pathway to the Special Car Unit behind him.

  “Monika said you were smart. I am glad you were not washed away,” Jerome laughed a bit, trying to cope with what was nearly another loss. “Now we need to find Cammarry.”

  Old Bill shook his head up and down and nickered. He took a few steps, and his tail raised up.

  “Oh dear,” Jerome commented as he watched the horse defecate. “That is really strong smelling. No one would ever doubt where you have be
en.”

  Jerome walked a few paces away and mimicked the horse’s activity. He then gathered up his supplies, slipping his backpack on. That was when he realized that the boat was no longer where he had docked it. He looked out over the river, but it was nowhere to be seen. He recalled tying it to the pier by the rope, but when he squatted down and examined the pier, the rope too was gone. He smacked his palm against the pier’s post. “I should have used Alexander’s Gordian Knot.” He peered down the river, and could see part of the open sea. No boat was anywhere to be seen. “Alas, what is lost cannot be recovered.” Gritting his teeth, he looked up at the Special Car Unit. He squinted his eyes, and tightened his lips. “Cammarry is not lost. She is not lost. Just like the quest for the Conestoga, I will find Cammarry as well.”

  Old Bill stood watching as Jerome picked up the saddle and carried it over toward him. The horse dropped his head and took a causal step away as he chomped off some more grasses.

  Jerome flung the saddle up and onto the horse, but it slid over and dropped to the other side. “Well, that did not work so well.” Jerome walked around Old Bill, petting the long hairs on the horse’s neck as he did. “You seem tolerant of my mistakes. Thank you.” He then looked back and realized that there was a blanket which needed to go on under the saddle. So he walked back to the pier and picked up the bridle, blanket, and other harness, then returned to the horse. Old Bill had moved a few steps away, but not far. “I will start with the headgear thing first.” Reaching down, he pulled gently at the animal’s head. Old Bill chomped another large bite of grass, then raised his head. Jerome slipped the bridle over the horse’s ears, then discovered the mouth piece, the bit, did not easily fit into place. So he started over. After several tries, he was able to slip the bit into the horse’s mouth. Jerome was cautious and careful about the horse’s large teeth which were still chewing. Then the rest of the bridle was latched together. The blanket and saddle were placed on, and cinched up snuggly.

  “Brruurrh!” Old Bill huffed. His lips vibrating with the sound.

  “I agree completely, no matter what you said.” Jerome took the reins in hand, and started to lead the horse toward the path. “I might consider tying to ride you, after all, Monika said it would be easy enough, but a good walk will be more pleasant than a fall from a beast.”

  Old Bill obediently followed as Jerome led. They reached the path and started to proceed onward toward the gates. The head-sized rocks lining the path were shining white in the light from the sky tube. The path was longer than he had anticipated, but he walked steadily along.

  Suddenly, Old Bill whinnied and pulled back hard. Jerome spun around and the horse’s eyes were wide, and white was visible around the large rectangularity of its pupils. The ears were laid back.

  “What is wrong?” Jerome asked.

  The horse backed up and nearly pulled Jerome off the ground. Jerome was surprised at how strong the horse was.

  Jerome looked back in the direction the horse was staring. At first he could see nothing which looked abnormal. The roadway was the same, the white stones along its border were no different than from behind them. “I do not see it.”

  Old Bill continued to glare ahead, and then stomped his front leg several times.

  Jerome looked harder, and then spotted something that was odd. The grasses around one white stone were all turned and bent sideways. A few meters away, the grasses stood upright. They also stood upright around the stones on the opposite side of the pathway. In his mind, a memory of the strange canted rooms at the top of the habitat rushed through Jerome’s mind, as well as when he saw that predator cat pacing around the struggling animal which had collapsed.

  “You can see it?” Jerome uttered as he considered that there may be a gravity sink hole right before him. “You stopped me from walking into it?”

  Jerome walked perpendicular to the course he had been taking. Old Bill’s ears perked up, and his eyes returned to normal, a less popped out look. He followed along. Jerome tried to turn back toward where the grass was bent, but immediately Old Bill jerked his head away and refused to walk that direction.

  “You can see it. Or sense it somehow. It must be a gravity sink hole. Monika said you were smart.”

  Jerome looked around the ground and squatting down. He picked up some pebbles from the pathway. He was about to pitch one of them toward the strange place the horse was fearful about, when a flight of birds flew over. He watched as their small brown forms flew right toward where he had intended to throw a pebble. “No!” he called.

  The lead bird dipped unexpectedly, and with a flutter of feathers and wings, it crashed hard onto the ground. The birds flying behind it soared off at angles away from where their companion had crashed. Jerome turned and looked at Old Bill. He was wary, but not in a panic.

  “That poor thing is alone. Trapped in that gravity sink hole.”

  Jerome pulled out his Willie blaster, but then reconsidered. “Maybe, another way. I have seen too much violence against animals.”

  Dropping the reins, Jerome rushed back toward the pier and the bank of the river. The trees where Old Bill had been grazing had many dead branches. Only some had any leaves on them. Jerome quickly snapped off a branch about two meters long and the diameter of his finger. He ran back toward where he had been on the pathway. Old Bill had meandered off a few steps and was biting at grasses along the opposite side where they grew up straight.

  The bird was still trying in vain to stand up. Each time it righted itself, it then stumbled and fell. Its wings were flapping, but it could not coordinate a way to move. Jerome extended the tip of the branch toward the bird. As he did, the branch got heavier as if something had landed on its end. He knew then it has passed into that gravity field where the forces were much more intense.

  “Well now, little flying animal. Will you allow me to help you?” Jerome asked in as kind a voice as he could muster. He pushed the branch toward the struggling bird and as the tip got close, the bird grasped it with one foot. Slowly, Jerome lifted the branch, but the bird began to tip downward. So instead, Jerome dragged the branch back until he felt its weight lighten. He was not the only one to feel it. The bird suddenly flapped its wings and soared away, veering off from where the grasses were bent. It was soon gone from sight.

  “Hurrah! It is not always death trap.” Jerome shook his fist at the strange place before him. “An animal can escape it.”

  He turned back and looked at Old Bill. “So some animals know it is there. You do, but how? Do you see it? Or hear it? Or smell it? I cannot tell where it is except by the affect it has on physical things.” He tossed a pebble toward it, and the pebble arced in a way that had a smooth trajectory until it passed something and then fell to the ground rapidly. “Somehow some animals know it is there, while some others do not. That Nyala could not see it, but this horse can. The predator could see it, but that little flying animal could not. Oh, I wish I could ask Sandie to run some conjectures and analyze what I am seeing. Maybe seeing is not the right word? Old Bill, do you have some other sense that I lack?”

  Jerome walked back to the horse and took up the reins. As they walked onward, he paid close attention to the horse’s demeanor. It shied away from the side of the pathway where the gravity sink hole was, but otherwise walked steadily onward.

  There were no further incidents as Jerome walked the horse up to the gate at the end of the path. The buildings beyond looked abandoned, but from the previous night, Jerome knew that there was power in some parts of the building as there had been illuminated windows. He could see no people anywhere around the buildings. He did spy a small animal. It was ball shaped when he first saw it, but then the furry animal walked with an odd reach out with its smaller front legs, and then draw up its much bigger hind legs. It slipped through the fence easily and then sat again in a brown ball among the grasses. Jerome was surprised by its long ears, as they were about the same length as its head. “It eats grass like you do, Old Bill. Imagine that. An
immense animals like you fueled by the same source as that little animal there.”

  A two meter high fence encircled the Special Care Unit and was made from some primitive malleable metal forged into rods. Iron, Jerome believed it was called, remembering his basic metallurgy training from early education classes. Some parts were rusted a dull brown color, but overall the fence was blackish. There were vertical pickets, with three horizontal rails. Each rail and picket was about thumb thick in diameter. Two of the rails were toward the bottom of the fence, one near the ground, the second about shin high. The top rail was chest high and located just beneath the ornamentation which adorned the upper parts of the pickets. Every other picket was twisted into a sharp point at its top. Alternate pickets extended up and then arched over to the corresponding picket beyond the spiked one. This made for a rounded top. The effective was aesthetically pleasing with a definite symmetry. It gave the impression of a covered spike, then an open spike, then a covered one, and so on. About every five meters there was a thicker post which had a globe at its top. The wrought iron fence linked from post to post for as far as Jerome could see. The fence appeared to outline the entire perimeter of the Special Care Unit.

 

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