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

by John Thornton

  “SB Amelia Earhart has gone insane, rampant, out of sequence,” Eris said, mostly to herself. “That SB Cotard is still logical and functional?”

  “Yes, although SB Cotard is now alone at the remains of the Special Care Unit, and I have just limited links with that system. Severe damage has taken place at that location. I conjecture that even worse damage has happened at the bow end of Beta. Air samples taken by SB Cotard show many toxins, most related to out of control fires, now circulating in the biome. The atmosphere scrubbers and filtration systems are failing. In large part that is due to the dying of foliage, but also the structural systems are rapidly deteriorating.”

  “How long for me to set up the teleporter?” Eris asked. An idea was percolating in her brain.

  “The design is not difficult, especially in light of your engineering training,” Sandie replied. “Tapping into the main power of Habitat Beta will be the trickiest part. The alcove where the small teleporter is located has good functional power sources, but you will need to bypass those power relays which run to the spacesuit recharging stations, and then connect in a high demand capable cable to reach the hanger bay stall where the sending pad will fit. I am not sure what specifically that will require, but I have conjecture a two-hour window for that. The setup of the sending pad will take another hour and a half. I conjecture that the integral component in the small teleporter console will take you fifteen minutes to remove after the power source is established, and five minutes to install in the new sending unit. Finally testing and refinement should be no longer than an hour. I conjecture, using a safe margin for unexpected complications, that you should be able to have the teleportation sending unit ready to operate six hours after docking.”

  “And how long before that caravan of people arrives at the teleporter?” Eris asked.

  “Their pace is variable, depending on the condition of the roadway, the stress on the draft horses, the inconsistent nature of the sheep who are being herded by the border collie canines, and the need to stop for the people to expel bodily wastes,” Sandie replied. “There is also a chance of encountering additional violent people, or gravity sink holes, but they have not encountered either of those threats since leaving the Special Care Unit. To answer your question, I do not expect them to arrive sooner than you will have the teleporter ready for operation, and likely no longer than two hours afterward.”

  The shuttle, NS-99, with Eris at the controls, and the teleportation sending pad in the cargo hold, approached Dardanella 135. “Sandie, I am ready to dock. Please cycle the hanger bay.”

  “Affirmative,” Sandie replied.

  The lights around the large exterior doors flashed. The Earth-normal atmosphere of the hanger bay was sucked into the corridors around it, and Sandie ran an additional check through the nonphysicality and by scanning the physical environment to make sure nothing would again react to the gasses of Zalia when they entered the hanger bay. All systems checked out, and Dardanella 135 was flooded with the native atmosphere of Zalia.

  Eris docked the shuttle, and waited for the re-pressurizing of the hanger bay. Her plan was coming together in her mind. She prayed it would be successful.

  ***

  On the roadway leading away from the crumbled Special Care Unit, the ragtag caravan progressed.

  S-1DT rolled along in the point position. It was scanning and watching for potential threats. It had limited ammunition, limited incendiary gel, no more riot control gas canisters, and a fully charged electro-shock capability. Jerome and Cammarry had used their fusion packs to recharge all of the automacubes just before the caravan departed.

  “Well Cammarry,” Bigelow said after taking a drink from his flask. “This new horse, Poco, is not like Agnes and Arabella. Oh, may they be running the beautiful fields of Tir Na Nog. However, this Poco has good potential. Poco is subordinate to Anika, and that shows real class. Yes, real class.”

  Cammarry, who was sitting next to Bigelow, the center spot on the front bench of the troika replied, “Well, this wagon certainly needed another horse to pull the load.”

  Bigelow frowned at her again calling his troika a ‘wagon’ but he nodded his head in agreement. Ten people, three on the front bench, three on the rear bench, and four huddled into the cargo area, had the troika riding low on its springs. “When I had all three of my associates…” he paused to spit, and then continued, “may Agnes and Arabella be racing the winds with the Hippoi Athanatoi. My associates could have easily pulled this load. But Anika will teach Poco, and we will get by.” He looked over the people in his troika, and held back the obscenities Cammarry could see he had been about to spew out.

  “I am armed and ready, should the need arise,” Cammarry said, changing the subject a bit. “Although I have not seen, nor heard any other people since we left the Special Care Unit.”

  “I doubt you will,” Bigelow answered. “They call the place ahead, Deathtown.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Behind them, keeping a distance far enough so that the other wagons could take evasive maneuvers if one wagon exploded from some hoodlum’s bomb, or struck a gravity sink hole, was Peter driving the converted mechanic’s wagon.

  “Franklin, how are the people doing back there?” Peter called over his shoulder.

  “I cannot see them very well,” the legless man Franklin answered, but we all seem to still be alive. All eight of us, that is.”

  “I have my cat,” Beverly said as she stroked the sleeping feline in her lap. “I wish I could go back to my room. This outing is taking too long.”

  “The policeman is taking us somewhere else,” Annie said. She was nestled in next to Susie who was sound asleep. “I think the renovations are taking more time than anyone expected.”

  There as some jabbering and talking among the other patients. None of them could really see out of the wagon, since the sides were now raised up. Sleeping beds had been laid out on the floor of the wagon, and pillows stacked the sides. The end gate, was blocked by the folded wheelchairs and other assistive devices. When Annie looked up, all she could see was the light from the sky tube far overhead. Even that looked odd, as a haze was making the air thicker and the light dimmer.

  “Is today rain day?” Annie asked. “Cotard should not have scheduled an outing on rain day, but if we had to be out for the renovations, I guess it makes sense.” She turned and lovingly patted Susie. “She could sleep though a rainstorm, but I do hope we will not get wet.”

  Peter called back in a gentle voice, “No rain scheduled for today. Let me know if any of you need to stop. I have food and water for you, and we can use one of the commodes if any of you need it. Just let us know and I will help you, or Siva will help you. We are here to make this work.”

  “He is a nice policeman,” Annie said to Franklin.

  “Yes, he is,” Franklin agreed, and then tried to explain again what was happening to some of the others who were sitting by him. He did not explain that they were being evacuated and would need to somehow get off the planet. He knew that because he had heard Jerome and Cammarry talking. Instead he spoke in simple ways about a day-trip and nature outing. His mind was both excited and fearful of what was really happening. “Both the men helping us on our outing are very nice.”

  Siva, who was sitting on the back of the mechanic’s wagon said a simple, “Thank you” to Franklin. Siva understood, better than anyone else, that Franklin knew exactly what was happening.

  “Old Bill you are doing well,” Peter encouraged the horse. “You too Ginger. Just keep moving and we will get these people there.” Peter’s voice was encouraging, even as he spoke to the horses. His eyes, however, kept glancing about, ever watchful for another attack. He also grieved the loss of nearly all his tools.

  Siva, was also keeping a wary watch for any danger. He looked back over the mechanic’s wagon, and saw the last surviving dairy cow. She had a halter and lead. The long lead was attached to the back of the wagon, near where the gate would open, just belong
where Siva sat. He knew he was exposed to possible sniper fire, but there was no more room inside to sit. Besides, from his vantage point he could move quickly to help whoever needed it. He looked back at the cow as she plodded along as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Siva wished briefly that he could be so confident, but then understood it was probably not confidence, but was ignorance. Either way, he was pleased the animal was not suffering.

  Siva knew the children in the covered wagon behind him were watching out the front and the cow was amusing for them to see. They were also watching the two Border Collies, Zmaj and Kiddie, working the small heard of sheep. The brown automacube, designed for animal husbandry, was assisting in that effort. Siva waved a “all is well” signal to Jenna in the covered wagon.

  Jenna was driving the twin tobianos. Those young horses were not well broken to the harness, but Jenna’s leadership was evident even to the horses who responded best to her gentle, yet firm directions. In the back of the wagon, Dewi and Nabila nurtured the younger children, and allowed each to have a turn sitting next to Jenna and the hunter on the front seat. That way the children could watch the cow and the dogs and the sheep. Most of the children were very subdued in their attitudes, and none of them were crying or carrying on. The extreme boat-ride down the river, and their harrowing escape from the killers in the airboat had left a lasting and somber impression on the children.

  On either side of the covered wagon were the two medical automacubes, and the two silver gastronomic automacubes. They were all loaded heavily with boxed supplies of food, bottled sterile water, and what few other items the survivors could tie onto their tops. Their multi-jointed appendages were holding tightly to the makeshift cargo nets which held the supplies. They were rolling along on the sides of the covered wagon to serve not only as a method to carry items, but also as moving shields to protect the children in the covered wagon.

  Last in the caravan was the karozzin carriage. It was too small to serve as much of a transport, but Monika, Jerome, Vesna, Khin, and two hunters were sitting on its seats. Monika was driving the young bay colored horse named Toby. That horse was nervous and rather high strung, but worked adequately in single harness.

  Jerome had his Willie Blaster out and was watching the roadway back toward the Special Care Unit. He fully expected to see hoodlums, or a Crock vehicle come racing after them. So far, he had seen nothing. No people, no animals, and no other Crock vehicles. Jerome was prepared to shoot a Crock vehicle if it appeared. He wondered about the one that they had disabled, and hoped it had not been fixed.

  “Jerome?” Cammarry said through the com-link.

  “Yes, all is secure back here. What about you?”

  “S-1DT just passed something strange. We are almost to that point now The horses are getting skittish, and we can see something up ahead. The air is strange over the sea,” Cammarry replied.

  “More dead fish, or aquatic animals?” Jerome asked, referring not only to the scores of dead fish they had seen in the stream, but also the legion of dead things that cluttered the shoreline and banks of the sea. Nothing alive had been observed anywhere by the sea. “Hoodlums or killers?”

  “No, nothing exactly like that. Thankfully the air currents are still pushing out to sea, and the smell is not too bad,” Cammarry replied. “But it is those air currents that worry me. There is a sort of haze in the air, a vapor, and over the spot ahead, it is all clear.”

  “A gravity sink hole?” Jerome asked, more as a statement than a question.

  “Right. But it all looks to be out to sea, not over the land. S-1DT passed it without incident. It may be the biggest one we have seen.”

  “Any Crock vehicles around?” Jerome asked.

  “No. Nothing moving except for us. I am going to have Bigelow drive as far to the side as possible,” Cammarry then instructed Bigelow to do that. Jerome heard his vulgar agreement.

  The troika rolled to the very edge of the roadway, away from the sea side.

  The other wagons followed that example, all the horses nickering and keeping their ears laid back against their heads.

  “Jerome,” Sandie interjected, “I have instructed the brown automacube, H-37, to herd the sheep away from that as well. The Border Collies appear to see the phenomenon, but the sleep do not.”

  “Any idea how to turn it off, or reverse it, or block it?” Jerome asked. “Did you learn more as S-1DT observed it?”

  Sandie replied, “Unfortunately not. S-1DT did not get close to it, and the readings taken added nothing to our understanding. There is still not a viable method of counteracting what is happening.”

  The caravan passed the strange place, but two sheep were lost when they just fell over dead. The dogs prodded the dead sheep with their noses, and pawed at them, but they were gone. The brown automacube, H-37, took some quick samples from the dead animals, and relayed the information back to Sandie.

  As the karozzin carriage rolled up to the spot, all those riding it were watching the sea closely.

  “That was where our village used to be,” Vesna stated. “But look at it now.”

  The sea had started to swirl and swirl. As they were passing, and while the horse Toby was nearly bucking and kicking to get away, a huge sucking sound ripped through the habitat. It came from the spot where the sea was swirling.

  “A whirlpool!” Jerome yelled into the com-link. “Cammarry, was there a whirlpool when you passed?”

  “No!” Cammarry responded.

  The karozzin shot forward as Toby could hold back no longer. He ran in the harness trying to flee from what to his horse’s mind was incomprehensible. The people in that wagon held on tightly and Monika fought the reins to keep the horse and wagon from spilling to the side. Toby galloped forward until he was right next to the covered wagon and he could see the horses pulling it. Only then did he settle down enough to slow to a safe speed.

  Jerome watched as the whirlpool in the sea grew more rapid in its turning and then got deeper at its center. The water was being sucked somewhere and the noise was immense.

  “I have never seen anything like that in the sea,” Vesna said. “It is unnatural, dangerous, evil!”

  “We are leaving all this behind, my Vesna,” Khin said and patted her back. The other people of her tribe just stared at the formation of the huge whirlpool. Dust and air were now being sucked into it as well as the water of the sea. Jerome remarked, “Since ancient times, fishermen knew that the sea was dangerous and the storms terrible. But this is worse than anything I have ever read about.”

  “Jerome? Cammarry?” Sandie said via the com-link. “S-1DT has located a child by the side of the road on the outskirts of Quady. He says his name is Adeilson.”

  “We will rush up and get him,” Cammarry answered before Jerome could say anything.”

  Sandie went on, “Adeilson reports that everything in Quady, which he calls Deathtown is dead. He says the sea is now dying as well.”

  Bigelow snapped his team into a faster pace. The rest of the caravan followed suit. Several more sheep fell over dead, but the dogs and brown automacube did not stop to investigate them. As the troika approached the boy standing next to the automacube, Jerome had a horrible thought.

  “Cammarry! It might be a trap!” Jerome yelled. He felt helpless as his wagon was at the end of the caravan. “Beware!”

  “It is not a trap,” Sandie replied. “Adeilson is naked, no explosives anywhere near him, and S-1DT has detected no other living things anywhere in the vicinity.

  “Are you certain?” Jerome asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Jerome, it is alright. It is Adeilson. I am getting him dressed and he is coming with us. But we need to hurry. There is another whirlpool where that pier used to be. It too is sucking everything away.”

  The caravan rushed on.

  ***

  In Dardanella 135, Eris had just completed installing the final component parts for the large teleportation sending unit. With Sandie directing her,
the job had gone smoothly. The new sending unit was connected into the power supply of the Conestoga, via a large and somewhat awkward looking cable. It extended from the alcove where the now disassembled smaller sending and receiving pad was located, to the stall number six of the hanger bay itself. The pressure door to the alcove could not close with the cable in place, but Eris had chosen to make the quicker and more direct coupling to the power rather than running it through the floors, decks, or the questionable power channels of the hanger bay itself.

  All that remained was the fine tuning and linkage with the receiving pad on the needle ship.

  The jumbo fusion boxes on the corners of the smaller teleporter were shut down, but Eris admired their efficiency and compactness. She remembered asking the artificial intelligence Sandie about them prior to doing the disassembly.

  “Sandie? These jumbo fusion packs can power the teleporter to send people up to the needle ship, so why not just use them for the larger sending pad?”