Humal Sequence 1: A Breath of Hope

by Robert Taylor

  “Fuck off Hamilton!” she screamed. “This is a private matter!”

  “Not any more, it isn’t.” Hamilton replied, calmly. He was tensed, ready for action, though a casual observer might have thought otherwise.

  “I warned you not to interfere in my affairs, Hamilton. Looks like I’ll have to make an example of you.”

  Hamilton smiled and took his headset off. He tossed it aside casually. The last thing he needed was the earpiece driven into his skull.

  Lewis assumed a combat stance. Hamilton viewed it professionally. It was obvious she’d had training. It was equally obvious that it hadn’t sunk in too well. Well enough, perhaps, to make short work of two civilians, but not enough to concern him.

  Hamilton assumed a stance of his own and the pair squared off, circling slowly, hampered by the tables. Hamilton noticed Johnson looking on with concern.

  Lewis lunged suddenly, hoping to catch him off guard. Her punch was aimed at his mid-section. He twisted nimbly, left hand slashing down onto her wrist whilst his right hand, clenched, backhanded her in the face.

  She staggered back, uncertain whether to hold her wrist or her crushed nose.

  “Not so much fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” Hamilton observed, with more than a touch of satisfaction in his voice.

  She screeched in anger and flew at him, all thought of skill or strategy forgotten, arms outstretched. It was what he had expected. He executed a front kick to her face. She fell backwards in a heap, groaning. Hamilton advanced warily. She remained on the floor, groaning. He bent down and jerked her to her feet. She flopped limply from side to side. Hamilton hefted her onto his shoulder.

  “Give me that.” he ordered, gesturing to his headset. It was handed to him quickly. He fumbled it onto his head.

  “You OK Hamilton?” Klane asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. No problem.” he replied, then, to those around him. “Anyone know which cabin she had?”

  “I do.” said the engineering assistant, Smith. “She has the cabin next door to mine. I’ll show you.”

  “Somebody take care of those two.” he said, pointing at the prone couple.

  Smith led Hamilton to the upper accommodation level. They met Vogerian there. He was shocked by Smith’s description of events in the mess and agreed to Hamilton’s suggestion that Lewis be locked in her cabin for a time to cool off.

  Hamilton had Klane unlock the door to Lewis’ cabin from the security panel. Hamilton dumped her on her bunk and then searched her cabin. He wasn’t overly surprised to find a laser pistol there. He confiscated it, along with some suspicious tablets he found.

  After leaving, he had Klane secure the door. Vogerian promised to lower Lewis’ percentage as a penalty for such behaviour. It was written into the contract, he pointed out. Hamilton paid him little heed. He had ceased to believe much of what Vogerian said.

  Next, he visited the medical bay. Lutess and Tong weren’t seriously injured, though both had had their noses broken and suffered numerous other bruises. They expressed their thanks to Hamilton, who merely grunted out a warning to stay clear of Lewis in future. They didn’t appear to need telling twice.

  Nobody went to tend to Lewis’ injuries and she was soon hammering on her door, threatening to kill Hamilton, Lutess, Tong and just about anyone else who she happened to think of. After an hour of this, however, she gave up and was ominously silent. Everyone returned to their normal activities.

  The rest of that day everyone was subdued, especially around Hamilton. He had previously been regarded as an annoying man who pried into their affairs and spied on them with his network of cameras. After his work in the mess, however, people’s opinion of him changed to that of a dangerous, annoying man who pried into their affairs and spied on them with a network of cameras. Consequently, they grew tight-lipped around him.

  The following day was little different. Hamilton and Klane together took some food to Lewis. She scowled at them and hissed. “I’m going to kill you, Hamilton.”

  “Just like last time, huh?” Hamilton replied, grinning, unable to resist the taunt.

  She flew into a rage again and the pair retreated hastily to avoid another confrontation.

  “Do you have to do that?” Klane asked him.

  “What?” he asked innocently.

  “Rub people’s noses in it.”

  Hamilton shrugged. “It’s my nature.”

  Klane sighed. “It’s going to get you in trouble.”

  He merely shrugged.

  The next day people began to talk to Hamilton again and he decided it was time to return to his investigations. They kept Lewis locked up as she threw an ornament at Hamilton when he delivered her food that day. The object, a heavy, blue glass fish intended as a paperweight, glanced off his head without breaking the skin, or itself, but left an ugly bruise. Hamilton had thrown her food in unceremoniously and shut the door. Her angered screams had persisted for some hours.

  Later that day Hamilton made his rounds of the ship, as usual. The rec area had a small gym set off to one side and Hamilton occasionally made use of it. This time, however, he found it occupied by LeGault. Normally, Hamilton liked the gym to himself. Few of the others used it and Hamilton’s shift work often meant that he used it late on at night. Hamilton half turned away, intending to return later, then thought; What the Hell! There were enough machines to keep two people happy.

  Hamilton entered and changed into one of the disposable sweatpants and shirts provided for the crew’s use. LeGault acknowledged his presence with a nod and continued with his own workout.

  Hamilton went through some basic warm-up exercises, loosening up his muscles and stretching his tendons. LeGault paid him no heed, intent on his own exercises.

  After perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, Hamilton moved on to the machines. He didn’t use very much weight. Actually exercising for any gain was not his purpose this session. LeGault continued his workout, covered in sweat. His muscles trembled with effort and he looked as if he’d been working at it for some time.

  Hamilton commenced to work up a sweat, moving the light weights rapidly. He switched through a variety of machines, working all his muscle groups. Soon, he was as sweat covered as LeGault, though undoubtedly far less exhausted.

  After perhaps a further twenty minutes of exercise, LeGault staggered away from the bench-press machine on trembling legs and headed for the showers. Hamilton gave him a minute and then also made for the showers.

  LeGault was barely able to stand, being so exhausted. He just leant against the wall, allowing the water to run over him.

  “Tough workout, huh?” Hamilton said, entering the shower.

  LeGault nodded feebly, chest heaving still, unable to speak.

  Hamilton showered himself down rapidly and then changed back into his jumpsuit. LeGault staggered from the showers and collapsed onto the bench. He slowly began to towel off and change. Hamilton took his time over pulling his boots on.

  “You want to get a drink or something?” He asked LeGault. LeGault glanced at him curiously, suspicion evident, then nodded slowly.

  “I could do with one.” he replied. It was the first thing he’d said since Hamilton had seen him that day.

  “I’ll get something in,” Hamilton said. “What do you want?”

  “Anything alcoholic.”

  “OK. See you in the mess.”

  Hamilton left and entered the mess. It was late and, therefore, deserted. Hamilton approached the food dispenser and ordered up some drinks on his coding. Alcohol and other restricted produce were available in limited supply to the crew. Each order had to be accompanied by a personal code. Naturally, as security officer, Hamilton had a somewhat larger allowance than everyone else.

  LeGault appeared after a couple of minutes and joined Hamilton. He gulped at his drink eagerly. Hamilton sipped at his own drink. They were silent for some time. LeGault finished his drink, but continued to clutch the glass obsessively.

  “Anothe
r?” Hamilton asked.

  LeGault nodded. “Thanks.”

  Hamilton refilled his glass. They sat silently for some time more. LeGault drank more slowly this time.

  “You should get a good night’s sleep after all this.” Hamilton prophesied.

  LeGault glanced at him sharply and shook his head with a wry smile. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep for months.”

  Hamilton raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How come?”

  LeGault shook his head wearily. “I have bad dreams.”

  “I’m sure the doc’ could give you something for those.”

  “No.” LeGault shook his head. “I don’t take drugs.”

  Hamilton glanced at LeGault’s drink, but said. “What sort of bad dreams?”

  “I’d rather not talk about them.”

  “Sure. Sometimes it helps, though.”

  LeGault smiled faintly. “I already tried talking to shrinks. They were unable to help me.”

  “OK. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Such as?”

  “How about your career.”

  LeGault shrugged, eyeing Hamilton suspiciously. “If you want to be bored.”

  “Most people find their own lives boring,” Hamilton observed. “Others find them fascinating.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’ve often found it to be true. Well, how about it? OK. Look, I’ll tell you mine first.”

  Hamilton proceeded to tell his history again. He was getting good at it. This time he told it in bland terms, making it sound dull. Once LeGault had learned that Hamilton had been in the Corp, however, his interest was aroused.

  Afterwards, LeGault asked Hamilton various questions, of which Hamilton answered readily. Then there was a silence.

  “Well?” Hamilton prompted. “Your turn.”

  LeGault shrugged. “OK. You asked for it.”

  Hamilton listened as LeGault spun out a similar story to his own. However, LeGault had remained in the Corp for several more years than Hamilton, finally leaving only when Vogerian offered him private exploratory missions for a greater salary.

  “I would have been stupid to have refused. In the Corp, I was just another team member. In Vogerian’s outfit I would be in charge, the top honcho. Plus, there was the extra money. I thought it was a good idea. I wish I’d stayed in the Corp, now.”

  “Hard work, huh?” Hamilton guessed.

  LeGault nodded. “I found I was the only Corp member on my team. The fools wouldn’t take orders. They had no discipline at all. I admit I made mistakes, sometimes fatal mistakes, but I’d never been trained for command, never had to make such decisions before. I didn’t realise it could be so difficult.”

  “Why didn’t you quit, then?”

  “I was going to, right after this last mission I was on.” His voice dropped to a quieter level.

  “You mean this mission, the one we’re on?” Hamilton asked, deliberately obtuse.

  “No, the last mission. The one which made all this,” He gestured around, sarcastically. “Possible.”

  “The mission where you discovered the Humal ship?”

  “Yeah. Say, get us another drink, will you?”

  “If you like.” said Hamilton, rising to refill LeGault’s glass. He returned and sat down, handing the glass to LeGault. “What happened?”

  LeGault’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “It was just supposed to be a routine mission. By this time I’d been partnered with the least successful team, Lewis, Walsh and Knowles. We’d done a few missions together, gotten to know one another. Lewis was less crazy then, and she’d done some Corp time. I guess we were all more normal, before that mission.

  “We’d been in space for about six weeks, exploring far beyond normal Corp survey team areas. It had taken us two weeks of hyperspace travel just to reach the area. We’d explored two systems, finding nothing, and were just entering our third. We surveyed the three planets there in normal fashion, beginning with the furthest out. One was a gas giant, the second an airless rock. It was on the third planet that we detected the ship.

  “The planet itself was uninhabitable, racked by storms and having a mostly acidic atmosphere. The ship lay close to a sulphur lake, but appeared intact from our orbital scans. We all crowded aboard the launch. I know its S.O.P. to leave someone in orbit, but we were too excited. It was the first Humal artefact any of us had discovered. No one wanted to be left behind. The trip down was hellish. Have you ever seen a red sky, Hamilton?”

  Hamilton recalled his dream, becoming more nervous by the moment. He shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so.” LeGault continued. “There must be plenty of worlds with red skies, but few are hospitable enough to entice people down to their surface to view them. We wouldn’t have gone down if we hadn’t discovered the ship. I wish we hadn’t spotted it, now.

  “Anyway, we headed down, down through the red sky, buffeted by the storm winds. The launches are tough, you know that, but not too comfortable. By the time Knowles; he was our pilot, then; had managed to bring us down to a landing we were all black and blue with bruises. But we were so eager, we didn’t care. We suited up and left the ship. Again, we ignored the reg’s and left nobody in the launch. We had to walk for about a half an hour before we reached the Humal ship.

  “It was big, far bigger than the one previously discovered. We just stood and gaped for some time, drinking it all in. It was in the usual flowing Humal design. All curves, not a straight edge in sight. We finally entered the ship through the central lock. It was easy to get through. We just followed the guidelines laid down and found the manual opening mechanism swiftly. Inside the lock, we decided that it would be quicker to split up. Lewis and I headed towards the bow, Knowles and Walsh headed astern.

  “As with the exterior, the inside was all curves. The corridors were circular, the doorways oval. Lewis and I moved forward. We had almost reached the bridge when the scream rang out. It came from the stern. Lewis and I turned and hurried back. We had only gone about halfway when the explosion shook the ship. We were both thrown to the floor. I must have struck my head for I was dazed for a minute or so. Lewis ran ahead. I staggered after her as best I could. She easily outdistanced me, however, and I lost sight of her.

  “Her scream rent the air a few seconds later, though. I ran on, soon passing the lock we had entered and moving into the aft section of the ship. A second, smaller, explosion shook the ship. I kept my footing this time and I ran down to what I assumed was the engineering section. Lewis staggered out, wild eyed, as I approached. She stared madly at me, then collapsed. I edged forward, cautiously.

  “The chamber was wrecked. The twin explosions had destroyed the delicate instrumentation and set fire to much of the interior. A charred…”

  He stopped, unable to continue for a moment. He took a long swallow of his drink before pressing on. “A charred form lay in the middle of the room. It was burnt beyond recognition, but there was only one person it could be, Knowles. Walsh lay nearer to the entrance, covered in blood, also somewhat burnt. At first, I just stared, not knowing what to do. After some time, I’m not sure how long, I checked Lewis and Walsh.

  “Lewis was unconscious. Walsh had burns and a serious abdominal injury. I administered what first aid I could, then dragged them to the lock. I left Knowles’ body for the moment. There was nothing I could do for him. Both of their suits were badly wrecked and I knew if I took them out into the open they would die due to exposure to the acidic atmosphere. So I left them there, and returned to the launch. It was an awful trip. I reached the launch after what seemed like hours but could only have been a half an hour.

  “It was my intention to get fresh suits and return with them, put the others in them and drag them to the ship. I realised that wouldn’t work, however. I could never make the trip to the Humal ship twice more. I was too exhausted, mentally as well as physically. Working in suits isn’t easy, but I’m sure you know that. Instead, I decided to fly the launch closer.


  “It was a risky proposition, I knew that. Everyone receives emergency flight instruction, even if they’re not intending to be a pilot, so I knew what to do. However, a take-off and landing in calm, clear weather was one thing. To do the same in storm force winds, with low visibility and driving, acidic rain was something else entirely. Yet I had to do it, there was no other choice. I filed a quick report and transmitted it to the orbiting survey ship, in case I crashed the launch. Then I powered up the launch and took off.

  “Flying was worse than a nightmare. I was fearful of going too high in case I couldn’t see the ship when I drew nearer. As a result, I smashed the landing gear, which I had left lowered, several times on outcrops of rocks. When I finally came in sight of the Humal ship I saw why Knowles had landed so far away.

  “Although the terrain had seemed relatively flat from ground level it was obviously totally unsuited for a landing. But I did land, picking the largest available space. The terrain, coupled with the damaged landing gear, combined to make the launch heel over, almost onto its side. It was only an upthrusting section of rock that prevented the launch from falling over. The launch ground down onto it, damaging the plating, then came to rest. I grabbed a survival tent, reasoning that it was easier to get an injured person into a tent, rather than a suit, and left the launch.

  “I found that all was as I had left it. I bundled Lewis into the tent and returned to the launch with her. Then I repeated the trip with Walsh. Finally, though I didn’t relish it, I recovered Knowles corpse. I left it in the tent once it was aboard.

  “The take-off was very difficult but, somehow, I managed it. I flew the craft back into orbit, then set about finding the survey vessel. Docking was another nightmare, but again I accomplished it. I’m not quite sure how. Once aboard I got the injured pair to sickbay and did what I could for them. Then I collapsed myself, exhausted.

  “When I came around I found they had both improved. Lewis was conscious but staring blankly. Walsh was out of any immediate danger. I set a course for home and made transit many hours later.”