by Greg Curtis
Time passed, the sun moved across the sky, and the technicians continued their strange dance around the piles of machinery and wires under the makeshift tent. And then finally, two maybe three hours later, one of them looked up at them, his face a picture of nervousness.
“Ayn?” It was ready. David knew that. They all knew that. And most of all Cyrea knew that. David stood and quickly helped her to her feet. With her pregnancy advancing she was finding it harder and harder to do many of the things she'd once taken for granted, and he knew she hated it. Which was why he had to be there for her as much as he could.
Then of course he had to let her go as she wandered over to the makeshift tent and the technicians. The one thing no one wanted was a ham fisted idiot getting caught up in their advanced electronics project. Assuming it was electronic, that was. He still wasn't completely clear on that.
Wordlessly the technician handed her a microphone and everyone held their breath.
“This is Ayn Cyrea. Can anyone here me?” Of course she didn't say that exactly. Not in English. But David was slowly familiarising himself with Leinian and he understood most of what she was saying. He understood too that the silence on the other end of the line wasn't good.
Cyrea repeated herself, giving everything she had to remain calm as she waited for a reply and the silence stretched. Then, when there was still nothing she tried a third and a fourth time. Still nothing.
Of course there had never been a guarantee that they would get an answer. There might not be a ship in range, and the range itself was limited. Eight to ten light years at best the technicians had said. And the transmitter might not work. It was cobbled together from so many different bits of alien equipment, some of it ancient and none of it designed to work with Leinian and Mentan technology, that it had always been a gamble. And who knew? Maybe it was working. Maybe the message was getting out. Maybe it was only that they couldn't hear the response for some reason.
Of course there was always the other possibility. The one that none of them wanted to think about. That the ship following them had already been captured. That their pirate friend was even now listening to their broadcast and planning on making his return to them as soon as possible.
“Should we try another frequency?” It was the obvious question. But even as Cyrea shook her head David knew she was right to reject the idea. This was a security channel. One only used by the security people of her own world, and only monitored by them. More than that it was the only security channel she knew. To switch to other frequencies was to reach a wider audience and maybe find someone else out there, but also to risk their transmission being picked up by the Mentan. The only way he could pick up this one was if he was actually on board the chasing ship. They had to give this channel every chance before they risked another one.
“We keep trying.” It was the only thing to do. And so they did just that. For hour after hour Cyrea stood at the post, broadcasting her simple message, while the other end remained stubbornly quiet.
Hours passed and the sun fell down and she kept broadcasting. The stars and the moons came out and she continued sending. Speaking into the microphone every half hour or so, sitting in silence with him most of the rest of the time. Growing more and more tired as the night wore on. Growing more and more depressed as well. But refusing to allow anyone else to take her place.
And then, just when the sky was starting to brighten once more, they got the first hint that someone was out there. It wasn't much. Just a crackle of static. But that was so much more than the silence they'd listened to all night.
Cyrea was on it immediately, repeating her message over and over again into the microphone, while the technicians who'd fallen asleep were suddenly completely awake and hovering over the equipment, playing with it, adjusting things, tuning things, doing anything they could to make the static into words.
For a good two hours she kept repeating her message, and while they didn't get an answer the static did grow slowly louder. And with it their hopes grew.
Then, just when they were sitting on the metaphorical edges of their seats, the technicians gave them the bad news. The transmitter was dying. Little by little it was burning out. And every message Cyrea sent was killing it a little bit more.
It was a body blow to them. By then of course the word had spread and everyone was there. All of them hoping and praying. But if the machine was dying then their hopes and prayers were dying with it.
They quickly came up with a plan of course, not much of one but the best they could do. The transmitter was dying, damaged by every message that was sent, but also slowly burning out even when nothing was done. But the static, the noise that they could hope was an approaching ship, was getting louder. So they wrote a quick message. Five lines long and Cyrea sent it every half hour.
It wasn't much of a message. Just who they were, what had happened to them, and that there was a dangerous Mentan out there targeting Leinian ships leaving Earth. Thirty five words. As he sat there, listening to the mother of his daughter repeating those thirty five words every half hour, David couldn't help but think that it was a lot they were asking of those words. An awful lot. In another time and another place he would have given up. He would have looked for a different way. But this was the time and the place, and there was no other way. This was their only lifeline.
Then, somewhere before the sun had reached its full height, they reached the end. Cyrea sent her message as she had so many times before, and suddenly there was smoke. Lots of smoke. Something was burning. The technicians began running around frantically, trying desperately to put out the fire. But the fire was having none of it, and the one thing they couldn't do was pour water on it. That would end their transmission even faster than the fire.
So they busied themselves trying alternately to blow the fire out by waving jackets and shirts and whatever other pieces of clothing they could find at it, or to suffocate it by covering the smouldering bits of equipment with those same items of clothing. It wasn't enough and soon he could see flames leaping from several of the piles of junk masquerading as a transmitter. Flames that quickly spread to the rest of it.
And then it was over. The end came suddenly, as something went bang and pieces of transmitter went flying in all directions. After that they knew it was dead. And they knew that with it they had sent their last call for help.
It was a difficult moment for them all. They were torn between hope and despair, as they had no idea what if any of their message had got out. No idea if rescue was coming or just more victims. And yet as David gathered up his woman and slowly led her away from the smouldering remains of their transmitter, he couldn't help but think that whatever they'd achieved, they'd still done something. Something that their captor hadn't planned on.
If they could do it once they could do it again. Maybe.
Chapter Thirty Three
The entire community was on tenterhooks in the days following the transmission. All of them were walking around nervously, snapping at one another for no reason, apologising too. Work, anything but the essential jobs was forgotten or ignored. Meals were eaten only when people grew hungry. But most of them were too anxious to have an appetite. And the routines they'd developed over the previous month on the planet were forgotten. There was no discipline. No order. And no one particularly wanted it.
David knew that was a mistake. Discipline and routine were what kept an expedition going. Whether it was into enemy lands or simple survival training, they were vital. But he also understood what the people were going through, and he knew that there was nothing he could do. One way or another, this thing would simply have to be ridden out.
So they waited anxiously for the next two days, wondering if their warning had been successful, but with no way of knowing. The same questions were on everyone's mind. Had they got their message across? If so had it been in time? Could the transport have managed to hide from or evade the Mentan’s ship? It seemed unlikely considering that his vessel was more
advanced, but at least they had had a brief warning. Or alternatively had the other ship been able to get out a message before they’d been caught?
Unspoken though in everyone’s thoughts was the very real worry that the Mentan had caught the others, and either they’d be arriving here shortly, or that they’d resisted too strongly, and he’d shot them down. Such a thing would be unthinkable for a Mentan or any civilized being, but then most of what he had already done was unthinkable. And he himself had said that he was desperate.
Then, late in the afternoon of the second day, they saw rocket trails and knew that at least one question had been answered. The trails were from pods descending high in the atmosphere, and seeing them they knew that the battle was over. The Mentan had captured the transport. But at least they also knew that they were alive. They might not have escaped, but they had survived. That was something. The orange trails of fire slowly became larger, and they knew the others were getting closer. David did a quick count and saw twenty four fire trails. Another forty eight more members to add to their tiny community.
“Only twenty four. There should be another five,” Cyrea whispered. She was right. They were two man pods, like the ones on their own ship, and they had had fifty eight people on board if they were fully loaded. All the transports were identical in that. Did that mean there were ten casualties? Or had the transport been light on passengers? Their own ship had been six light after all. David squeezed her hand but said nothing. There was nothing he could say and soon enough they’d know anyway.
As a group they gathered near the depot and waited, watching the orange fire trails slowly fading as the pods slowed down, letting them cool. Soon the fiery trails had given way to silver spheres growing in size as they approached. As Cyrea explained, the antigravity systems had started slowing them, reducing the heat from friction, and cushioning their occupants against the buffeting. But that same slowing down, made it take longer and longer for the pods to arrive. From a free falling meteorite to perhaps the same speed as a gently falling leaf, it was another quarter hour before the first of the pods touched down. A very long quarter hour.
But one by one they did, dotting the valley with more silvery pods, and when they landed the various members of their community went to greet each pod, and help the occupants out. David and Cyrea however didn’t.
Cyrea was becoming more tired as her pregnancy advanced, and David still didn’t know enough about the operation of the pods to help. Instead they just sat and waited at the meeting place they'd established just out of sight of the depot as the locals greeted the newest residents of the planet and brought them back to them.
At first it was a somewhat depressing affair, as one after another of the newcomers arrived, said hello and took a seat nearby. David and Cyrea wanted to ask the important questions, but somehow couldn’t find the courage, while the newcomers apparently didn’t want to share either. But then some familiar faces came walking up the hill, and both he and Cyrea were jolted back into life.
First of the couples to arrive were Ayer and Becky, and they both noted how her belly was just beginning to bulge nicely. As a couple they greeted them, and David noticed traces of a few tears forming in Cyreas’ eyes. Finally, she wasn’t alone, and she quickly hustled Rebecca off for a woman’s talk, leaving him and Ayer looking on and feeling left out. But at least they’d get to compare notes about life as expectant fathers.
David was surprised by how well Ayer seemed to be adapting to his new life. The kid was becoming a man and it looked good on him, even if things weren't easy. But when were they ever?
Despite her bulge Becky was only three months along, and in Ayer’s own words, the next six might well finish him off. But David knew he was only being dramatic. The arguing had for the most part disappeared, for which Ayer was grateful, but the fear had begun. That was something he could relate to. The youngsters had spent their days and nights worrying, not just about the baby’s health, but about their life afterwards. How would they live, where, and above all how would they cope with a baby? Becky was stressed out, terrified she wasn’t up to the job of being a mother, while Ayer was scared witless she might try to kill herself again. But the one thing David was pleased to see was that he was coping with it.
When Ayer had found out about the first time, it had been a nightmare for the young man. He had never even considered the concept, and then suddenly he had to deal with the reality that Becky had actually tried to do something he couldn’t even imagine. David was certain his greatest fear was that if she could try it once, she could try it again. The upshot of it all was that they were both in counselling. They had been since the very beginning, and as time went by, it just carried on. But at least in Ayer’s case it seemed to be working. He might be scared, he might have many worries, but he was learning to deal with them. More importantly he was learning to deal with hers.
From what he told him Ayer seemed to be taking a more assertive role in the relationship, hence the reason he seemed more secure, more adult. Such a thing might be relatively alien to Leinians as if anything the women seemed to rule the roost, but in Becky’s case it was a good thing. A very good thing. She didn’t need someone to share her fears. She needed someone to tell her they were groundless. And it spoke strongly about the strength of their relationship, of her trust in him, that she had already allowed herself to get pregnant, though he had to remember they were both little more than teenagers. When the mood came upon them they probably didn’t think about such things as they couldn’t help themselves. There was a good chance he figured that the pregnancy was actually accidental.
David had barely gotten around to asking him about how things had been back home, when another human appeared on the scene and David forgot all his questions in his surprise. This time it was the local doctor who caught his eye. Doctor Hayes, who according to gossip was the most eligible bachelor in town, and probably the most dedicated to that state of unmarried bliss. Rumours had circulated for years speculating that he was either gay, or else so terminally shy that he wouldn’t go near a lady, but the truth was in all likelihood that he was simply too busy, too shy and too dedicated to his patients to have the time.
That had apparently changed at some point David realised, as the doctor escorted a young Leinian lady up the hill, in a most familiar manner. A very pregnant lady. For a moment David thought he must have come along simply as a human doctor, until he noticed how closely they held each other. Then when he realized the truth, David’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the sight, and Ayer started laughing quietly.
“Apparently the very next day after you and Cyrea had been made so famous, he and Doctor Sarel tied the knot as you say. They just never decided to do it in public!” David stared at him coolly, or at least in what he hoped was a disapproving manner, but was ignored. There was no doubt about it, the kid was laughing at him, though in a well meaning way. The pattern continued, as the doctor guided his mate off to be with Cyrea and Rebecca, while he came to join them.
“Doctor, - John, isn’t it.” He offered his hand, still shocked to be seeing his doctor in the same situation as himself.
“Father to be number three, at your service.” He performed a slight bow while David smiled, wondering how they’d kept it so quiet.
“When -?” That was as far as he got as the doctor started laughing. He’d obviously been expecting the question.
“About seventeen hours after you and Cyrea. You beat us to it, but not by much. We’d been edging around it for months, both of us wondering if we could, if we should, but neither of us working up the courage to say anything. Then Sarel came running in one morning with a dvd. All we were supposed to do was watch it and confirm that it was possible and that neither of you would be harmed by it. I mean we are doctors. But we were the very worst people to show it to.”
“You two were doing it, and you looked so happy. It was simply too tempting. I don’t even know who made the first move, but from then it was simply a chain rea
ction. I don’t recall us making it off the couch that day, and then we had to take a week’s sick leave each.” David was torn between more humiliation as he understood exactly what dvd he was talking about, and shared humour as he remembered Cyrea’s and his first week together. Only a week’s leave? It was surely not nearly enough.
“But on the positive side we did confirm that neither of you would suffer any harm from it!” David had a difficult time trying to keep a straight face about then and Ayer didn’t even bother trying and his peals of laughter were a joy in their open aired prison.