Stars & Empire: 10 Galactic Tales

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Stars & Empire: 10 Galactic Tales Page 221

by Jay Allan

“I think it would be closer to eight thousand,” Lori responded after a moment of thought. “More than that would throw everything out of balance.”

  “Where are we on the new habitat? I want to save a lot more than eight thousand,” Mason replied, his eyes focusing on Lori and Keith. He had hoped the number would have been a lot larger, but he trusted Lori’s judgment in this. He knew that the environment in the Smithfield habitat was carefully controlled.

  Keith leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath. “We have been working on it for several years as the money and resources became available, but it will take another six to eight years to complete.”

  “Is there anything else we could do on a temporary basis while we finish the larger habitat?” Mason asked his eyes narrowing as he desperately searched for a way to save more people. “It doesn’t have to be comfortable; it just needs to allow people to survive.”

  “Maybe,” replied Keith hesitantly, as he thought about possible solutions. “Lori and I would have to study the environmental impact, but it might be possible to build some long tunnels extending from the current habitat and construct living quarters within them. The biggest problem with a large ecological habitat like Smithfield is its huge size. If we keep the roof low, say twenty-five feet, and build the tunnels about fifty feet wide, we could add two rows of small apartment complexes. We keep them simple and build one row on each side of the tunnels. They wouldn’t be as roomy as what’s in Smithfield, but they would probably suffice until we can get the new habitat done.”

  “We would also have to bring in a lot of supplies,” Lori added as she thought about the difficulties. “In Smithfield, because of all the plants we have growing, it’s relatively easy to keep the atmosphere breathable. We also do a good job of recycling our water. We’ll need some massive new environmental systems to handle the number of people you’re talking about.”

  “Okay,” Mason replied with a nod. “Get to work on it as soon as this meeting is over. I want to know how soon you can begin and what materials you need. You will have all the people and resources we can spare. I want to know how many people we can accommodate, and work on both the new habitat as well as the emergency tunnel concept. We can use some of the people we’re bringing up to help, so labor shouldn’t be a problem. I want work on the new habitat going twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week!”

  “How do we get these people here?” asked Ethan Hall, arching his eyebrows. “Our cargo ships have only a few staterooms on them. We can handle about twenty passengers at the most. You’re talking about moving thousands!”

  “We’re not going to need too many cargo ships anymore with Earth gone,” replied Mason, gravely “What would it take for you to convert some of our cargo ships to passenger ships?”

  “Passenger ships?” Ethan repeated, his eyes widening at the idea. “Our ships aren’t designed to haul passengers. The cargo holds are for hauling metals. You’re talking about some major modifications.”

  “We don’t need anything luxurious or comfortable,” Mason explained as he looked at his ship building engineer. “Just some cots anchored to the decks would do.”

  “The life support systems would have to be upgraded,” Ethan added as he thought about what would have to be done. “All the cargo holds are airtight with their own airlocks. We would have to add additional restroom facilities and some way to feed these people. Cots won’t do; we would need something more substantial to be able to handle maneuvering and acceleration.”

  “They can eat on their beds,” replied Mason, calmly. “As I said, they don’t have to be comfortable; we are trying to save their lives.”

  “What would they be allowed to bring with them?” asked Cheryl Robinson, taking a deep breath and looking over at Mason. “We don’t really have spare clothing and other necessary products for that many people.”

  Mason looked over at Ethan. “We have twenty-seven cargo ships. The trip to Holbrook station and back will take approximately nine to ten days, add a couple of days to check over the ship, and then we do it all over again. Can we change ten of our cargo ships to passenger ships? That would leave us the other seventeen to haul supplies back from Earth.”

  “How are we going to get those supplies?” asked Lori, looking confused. “Holbrook Station and Luna City won’t have them to spare.”

  “We go down to Earth and get them,” Mason responded in a grim voice. “Very soon the atmosphere on the planet will become too bad to breathe; all life will die out shortly after that. There will still be large quantities of supplies in some areas we could probably reach. We can search malls, department stores, factories, and any other place that may have what we need.”

  “How?” asked Craig Carter, confused. “Our cargo ships can’t land on Earth; they don’t have the power to take back off again. Without refueling facilities, we can’t land the shuttles either.”

  “No, but our prospecting ships do,” replied Mason, looking around the group. “We can refuel them at Holbrook Station, land on Earth, find what we need and bring it back to the station to be loaded onto a cargo ship.”

  “Holy crap,” mumbled Sean Miller, shaking his head at the thought. “You’re talking about changing our prospectors into scavengers.”

  “Yes,” Mason replied as his eyes swept across the group. “I don’t think we have any other choice. It will be years before we’re capable of making everything we need. Until we can, Earth will have to be the source for our supplies. This is a question of survival, people; if we can’t rescue enough people off the planet to give us a viable population then humanity in this system will die out.”

  “We’re going to have problems of our own,” Cheryl added as she looked around the group. “Nearly everyone in Smithfield has family and friends still on Earth. We’re going to have a rough couple of months ahead of us.”

  Everyone was silent as they thought over what was ahead of them. Their lives were about to change, and the entire premise behind Smithfield and its parent corporation was now history.

  -o0o—

  Marine Captain Mark Stevens gazed down at the Jornada space complex. He and his company of marines had been reassigned to protect the facility. He knew that four other companies would soon be en route also. They had been undergoing maneuvers in the desert near White Sands and been reassigned to the space complex. Even as they prepared to land, he saw a shuttle accelerate down the nearest runway and head up toward space. In his briefing, he had been told that the space complex was going to be a gathering place for survivors from the catastrophe that was overtaking the planet.

  Looking up into the clear blue sky, it was hard to imagine the disaster that was unfolding around them. The base commander had told him and the other four captains that it would only be a matter of a few days before they began feeling the effects of the calamity.

  As soon as the helicopter touched down, he and his marines climbed out. They were directed toward a large hanger with open doors. Once inside, they found a marine major waiting for them, along with several other men who were obviously officials from the space complex.

  “I’m Major Anderson and will be in charge of this operation,” the officer said. Then gesturing toward an older man near him, he continued. “This is Lawrence Henderson, the chief operations and flight control officer here at Jornada. He has a few words to say to you to further explain our mission.”

  Lawrence looked over the assembled marines and then began speaking. “As all of you know the alien ship that was in orbit, besides abducting a large number of military personnel, launched a missile at Earth as it was leaving. That missile exploded deep inside our planet and has set off a series of massive earthquakes as well as volcanic eruptions. Orbital observations indicate the earthquakes are worsening, and more volcanoes are erupting every hour. In just a matter of weeks or perhaps days, our planet will become uninhabitable.”

  The marines looked at one another and a few began talking. “What’s going to happen to us?” asked one of the m
arines, receiving an icy glare from the major.

  “We’re going to evacuate as many people as we can to Luna City and Vesta,” Lawrence replied in a somber tone. “Preparations are already being made to expand both to accommodate more people. While that is being done, we will be gathering survivors here at the spaceport. We’ll be putting up facilities for people to stay in that will give them breathable air and a chance to live. Your job will be to protect this complex until we can all evacuate.”

  “What about our families?” another marine asked worriedly. His wife was in Missouri. “What’s going to happen to them?”

  “We will rescue those we can,” Lawrence promised. “Our big concern right now is that as soon as people realize this spaceport is their only hope for survival, we may be swamped with an influx of refugees.”

  Major Anderson nodded and took over. “There will be more regular army units as well as our other four companies of marines arriving over the next several days. We will be setting up a perimeter five miles out from the spaceport. We have White Sands to our west, so our main concern will be the other three directions.”

  “You will also have to protect the town of Jornada where most of the families of the people who work here at the launch center live,” Lawrence added.

  “What do we do with the civilians that show up?” asked a female marine.

  “We will be setting up a screening facility just outside the perimeter,” the major replied. “Civilians will be screened, and those that are found acceptable will be allowed access to the complex and the accommodations that are being prepared.”

  “What about the rest?” the female marine asked. “What do we do with them?”

  “We’re still working on that,” Major Anderson replied as he looked over at Lawrence Henderson. “We have some important decisions to make in the next twenty-four hours; we’ll let you know more then.”

  Captain Stevens listened to the major, knowing there might be problems if they received a massive influx of refugees. He looked over his marines and could see the growing unease in their eyes. Many were worried about their families, and others were still feeling confused about the situation. Captain Stevens didn’t blame them, hell; he was feeling confused as well!

  -o0o-

  Darren was watching the main viewscreen intently. They were searching the United States for safe zones where people could be directed until they could be rescued. Every instrument the station had was pointed at the Earth and information was being fed into the station’s computers.

  “The Earthquakes are getting worse and more volcanoes are erupting,” Shirley Melvin reported as she looked over the latest data. Even as she spoke the station’s meteorologist, Juan Ramos, came into the Control Center carrying a large sheaf of computer printouts.

  “The weather patterns are changing rapidly,” Juan reported with deep concern on his face as he walked over to Darren. “In the next forty-eight hours we will see steadily increasing clouds and a wide range of weather. High winds, torrential rain, and about everything else you can imagine.”

  “What about safe areas?” Darren demanded. “Are there places we can direct the survivors to?”

  “There are a couple of areas in Texas that may be relatively safe,” Juan replied. “The spaceport should be safe for the time being. The best bet may be to instruct the survivors to stay in their homes and wait for rescue. It’s not going to be safe for them to travel.”

  Darren frowned; the job ahead of them was staggering. They needed to start rescuing key people, ones that would be useful and not dead weight. They would need helicopters and other vehicles to find the individuals they needed. He would have to call Lawrence again. His friend at the military base, General Wainright, would have to be called upon to furnish the necessary equipment. He just hoped the general would cooperate.

  Kristen was sitting at her communications console listening to the various com channels. Every one she went to was filled with pleas for help. Earthquakes were leaving hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people, homeless. Erupting volcanoes were wiping out entire communities and sending millions of tons of ash up into the atmosphere. She also knew that huge tidal waves were striking the coasts of many countries around the world, causing massive devastation.

  As she listened, she could hear people pleading for help, and no one was replying. Everyone had their own problems and there was no help to give. She wiped the tears from her eyes and changed the channel back to listen to Luna City and Vesta; she didn’t want to hear the desperate cries for help from Earth any longer.

  -o0o-

  Captain Stevens peered through his high powered binoculars across the flat desert terrain. A few cactus and small, scattered plants were all that he could see. In the distance, he could barely make out the town of Jornada. The major had informed him that two of the marine companies that would be arriving in the morning would be assigned to guarding the town.

  There were few roads in this section of the desert, and he had already set up checkpoints on the two that ran through his area. Unfortunately, one of the two roads was the main one that serviced the spaceport. If there were going to be problems that was the road they would be coming down. He had one hundred and six marines in his command and a five-mile stretch of land to patrol.

  “Damn, it’s hot,” complained Lieutenant Griffith, as he walked up to the captain. “I’ve never liked the desert.”

  “Have the men set up some tent canopies for shade,” Stevens ordered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had requested a large number of canopies and fully intended to put them to use to protect his marines. “We have several jeeps from the spaceport; use them to take cold water to our people periodically. We don’t need anyone to have a heat stroke out here.”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied Lieutenant Griffith. He looked up and noticed the sky had an unhealthy tinge to it. “How long are we going to have to be out here?”

  “As long as it takes,” Stevens replied as he thought over the best defensive strategy for the area he had to cover. “I will set our command center up here and another behind the check point at the main road. If we have survivors coming, that’s the route they will take.”

  “I’ll be glad when our heavy equipment gets here,” Griffith added as he looked up and down the stretch of desert they were expected to guard.

  They needed some LAVs and Humvees for additional firepower. There just wasn’t much cover and Stevens didn’t like the idea of his marines being so exposed. He turned to go back to his jeep and check on the positions being set up. It was going to be a long and hot day, and then there was the night, which wouldn’t be much better.

  -o0o-

  Lawrence had just gotten off the phone with General Wainright. After a long talk, the general had agreed to try to procure as many helicopters as possible along with more troops. He had some communication lines still open with a few of his superiors, but not many. The military had been hit as hard as the civilians in the disaster that was rolling across the country. He would also be sending some heavier equipment in the morning to reinforce the marines. There was a nearby airbase as well as the White Sands test range that could be called upon for help.

  After speaking with General Wainright, Lawrence went to the complex’s Control and Operations Center. Stepping inside, Lawrence looked around. There were over forty people in the room manning the consoles and computers.

  He stepped over to the main communications console where Marsha Trask, his second in command, was speaking with several communication specialists. “What’s the latest, Marsha?” asked Lawrence, seeing the pained look upon her face.

  “It’s horrible, Lawrence,” she replied, shaking her head in despair. “All we’re picking up are pleas for help. We have numerous reports of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Mount St. Helens, Mount Rainier, Lassen Peak, Mount Hood, and others have erupted. More are being reported every hour. We also have an unconfirmed report of eruptions at Yellowstone; Holbrook is checking into that. Both
the East and West Coasts have been hit by massive tidal waves.”

  Lawrence felt numb knowing that millions of helpless people were being killed. He looked up at several large viewscreens, which showed views from space of the Earth. Already, the atmosphere was changing to a darker, more threatening color. Soon, much of the light from the sun would be blocked out.

  “We are in a dire situation, Marsha,” explained Lawrence, thinking about what all needed to be done. “Get with our people and set up more shuttle launches for tomorrow. I want to start sending four hundred people a day up to Holbrook Station. We also need to take two of our larger hangars and set them up to hold refugees. The hangars will need some type of air filtration systems to take out contaminants. We also need to find as many breathing masks as possible. General Wainright said the military bases may be able to furnish some of those.”

  “What’s going to happen, Lawrence?” Marsha asked, deeply concerned. She trusted Lawrence to tell her the truth.

  “We’re leaving,” he replied after a moment, his face taking on a somber look. “The Earth is finished. We’re going to evacuate as many people as possible to Luna City and Vesta, and maybe even a few to Mars Central.”

  “My family?” asked Marsha, suddenly feeling worried for their safety. Her husband worked at the spaceport, and her teenage son attended school in Jornada City where their home was.

  “Your family too,” Lawrence assured her. “The families of the people working here will have first priority.”

  The Control Center suddenly began trembling, and the lights briefly flickered. A faint rumbling could be heard in the distance.

  “What’s that?” Marsha asked, her eyes widening.

  “An earthquake,” Lawrence answered as the trembling subsided. “I think we had better get used to them.”

  He spent a few more minutes giving Marsha instructions and then went on to talk to a few others. They had a lot of work to do, and he didn’t know how much time they would be given to get it all done.

  -o0o—

 

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