• • • •
“Fair dinkum?” McNamee asked incredulously of the Oni standing in front of him. “How many cactus?” he asked of the Oni giving him the report. “That many dead? McDougall too! Ripper! So that energy spike I felt was McDougall’s and several Oni talismans getting wacked? Crikey! Okay! I want everyone, ya hear, Miro! Everyone goes! Bail up that rogie, we will. Herd ‘em up, leave in five.”
McNamee set the glass he was drinking from back on the bar and closed his eyes briefly in pain. A half dozen of his Oni, gone. Just like that. That McDougall creep was a dill. Well, as the Yanks loved to say, if you wanted something done right, best do it yourself.
He would need his war talisman for this, the strongest one he owned. There was just time to get it before they left for Kalgoorlie.
“Dead as a maggot, he’ll be,” McNamee solemnly swore.
• • • •
Capie and Daneel shot through the portal, shocked at finding themselves above a fury filled, wave-tossed ocean.
“Wow! What happened here?” asked a very worried Capie.
“‘Entering limits of System L-374, sir. Scanners show the same evidence of destruction,’” Daneel said, quoting Sulu from the Star Trek episode “The Doomsday Machine.” “Latitude and longitude matches. This used to be Middleton Reef. Poof, now it’s gone!”
“What’s that over there?” Capie paused in midflight, pointing at an object very high above them and several hundred yards away.
And then Capie did recognize it.
“Paul!” she shouted as she tore through the air in his direction. “He’s falling!”
She had barely gotten the words out when Daneel shot past her at incredible speed, reaching out with a spell to catch his father and slow his fall, bringing him to a halt just before impact with the raging waves on the ocean’s surface.
Capie reached her husband’s side a second later. “He’s bleeding!” she yelled.
Paul stirred, turning in Daneel’s spell and smiling weakly at Capie.
“You’re bleeding!” she shouted at him above the roar of the wind. “What happened?”
“McDougall,” he said, between coughs. “Must get ship ready. Now!”
“But you’re hurt!” she protested.
“What do you want us to do, Dad?” Daneel asked gravely.
“Staging…quick!…Load water…into fuel tanks… thousand gallons…hurry!”
“We’re going to Mars now?” asked a distraught Capie as she wiped his face with a wet washrag she had just fished through a portal.
“No, Earth orbit,” Paul answered and then coughed. “Capie, throw—ow! Hurt!”
“Sorry,” she apologized as she pulled back from her examination of the wound in his side. “I need to stop that bleeding. Daneel, use a spell, tear his shirt off, carefully! Good! Thanks.” She pulled a compress through a portal from a supply cabinet in the tiny 4 bed facility of Gower Wilson Memorial Hospital on Lord Howe Island, ripping open the package and putting it gently on the uncovered wound, applying a steady pressure. “Now open us up a portal, back the way we came starting with Brisbane! Hold on, Paul, we’re moving!”
• • • •
In four portal jumps, they were back at the Staging Area. Capie had argued to go to a medical facility in Perth, but Paul had insisted otherwise.
When they reached the Staging Area, Daneel laid Paul on an emergency cot, where Capie could attend him.
“Go on, Paul,” Capie told him with a frown. “What happened?”
Through gritted teeth and a wave of pain, her husband muttered, “McDougall escaped…attacked me…got to leave here… now …Throw the critical…(cough)…parts, supplies from storeroom…on board. We’ll…organize it later. Not critical…leave it. Replace later…from orbit.”
“I’ll take care of the water,” Daneel promised, opening a portal and disappearing.
“We need to get you—” Capie started to say.
“Cockpit! Please! I’ll…keep pressure on compress. Go! Hurry! No time!”
• • • •
Daneel was feeling emotions he had never before experienced. All at the same time too. He was afraid, panicked, angry, stressed, determined, and impatient. He and his family were in danger. Errabêlu was coming and they needed to leave Australia! Right NOW!
He opened an eight inch portal from the bottom of Bullock Hole into the top of the Sirius Effort’s fuel tank. According to an internet web page he had just accessed, that gave him 950 gallons per minute flow rate. He didn’t even try to filter the dirt out of the water; he was in too much of a hurry.
• • • •
Paul finished carefully stretching himself out on the pilot’s crash couch, smiling weakly at Capie as she turned and left the cockpit through her portal.
Slowly returning his gaze forward, he closed his eyes in concentration, creating another spell.
The Sirius Effort didn’t have a single electrical system on board. No control systems, no avionics, no cameras, in fact no electronics of any sort, and no instrumentation. There weren’t even any lights on board.
It was an odd thing for an electrical engineer to design, a ship that didn’t use a single wire anywhere. Instead, in order to save on construction time, he had simplified the design/build of the craft. And in truth, he had shaved two weeks or so off the schedule! His assumption had been that all such functions could and would be met with magical spells.
Mostly, the only things in the cockpit were two crash couches and a small table with a strap, for Daneel. The bulkheads were blank, except for the visible members of the structural frame.
As he waved a hand, a viewscreen showing an outside view, and a virtual control panel appeared, laid out in front of him. The effort was taxing and his vision swam for a few moment before steadying back out. He watched one indicator on the panel as the fluid level in the fuel tank rose slowly off the zero mark. Good! Daneel was already nearly finished with that vitally important task.
A thousand gallons wasn’t nearly enough for them to go to Mars with, but more than enough to achieve Earth orbit and land again, if needed. Besides, he had only managed to load about a third of the lithium chlorate. More water wouldn’t help him since the lithium was the main fuel.
The water would need a couple of minutes to absorb the lithium salt. Then the fuel solution would be ready to go.
A portal opened to his right with Daneel visible on the other side.
“Water’s loaded,” Daneel informed him. “Do you want me to help Mom now?”
“Yes,” Paul said with a groan of pain. “If the bad guys show up, we need to leave immediately. Understand? No matter what’s left behind. Tell Mom!”
“No strain, Pop,” was the hurried reply and then Daneel was gone, his portal too.
Paul closed his eyes, concentrating on the dopamine spell and adrenaline spells again, trying to regain a little more strength and mental acuity.
• • • •
It was simply amazing how much one could accomplish in a short period of time when one was motivated enough. And also too, when enough shortcuts were taken.
Capie and Daneel didn’t bother to pack anything or to store it properly in the cargo holds on Decks 6 and 7. They instead just dumped it wherever they found space. Box by box, item by item, with Capie making judgment calls on everything that went aboard, they loaded more than two thousand pounds of cargo in just five minutes.
“Cargo loaded!” Capie announced, sticking her head through a portal into the cockpit.
Paul smiled back at her, feeling a trifle better and a touch stronger.
“You and Daneel, please stand watch while I launch the ship, in case the bad guys show up. But I want you back aboard before we reach 10,000 feet, okay?”
She smiled at him, moving her portal closer so that she could give him a quick kiss.
“Get this garbage scow off the ground, sweetheart,” she said, with an impish grin before backing out of the portal and disappearing.
>
“I’ve already starting chilling the nozzles and bringing up the magnetic fields. Initiating countdown and launch sequence now,” he said, suppressing another wave of dizziness. “Opening engine inlet portals now.” A glance at the viewscreen confirmed the appearance of the inlet portals just in front of both engines. “Now pressurizing fuel lines!”
A virtual throttle lever appeared on the panel in front of him and he painfully stretched forth a hand to grasp it.
“Starting port engine fusion now!”
• • • •
Outside the ship, Capie and Daneel watched as a burst of flame emerged from the tail end of the port engine, followed a few seconds later by a similar event from the starboard engine.
“Mom!” Daneel hissed, his image on his monitor pointing back over her shoulder.
She spun. At ground level, not far from one of the camo support poles, an Oni was emerging from a portal. It was followed a few moments later by two more.
The engine plumes suddenly grew bigger, the thunder of their noise reaching deafening proportions.
• • • •
“Liftoff!” cried Paul, as the Sirius Effort inched off of the ground, struggling into the air.
THIRTY-TWO
‘Staging Area’
Open Pit Goldfields Mine
Southwest of Kalgoorlie, Western Australia
October
Saturday 2:02 p.m. AWST
Thrusting its way up out of the open mining pit, with the camo nets and poles now draped across the nose of the ship, the Sirius Effort began its climb into the sky, heading toward Earth orbit. At least a dozen Oni had arrived on the ground now around the pit and staring up, watching the incredible sight as the strange craft standing on a pillar of fire pushed its way skyward.
McNamee appeared with another dozen Oni. He too stood there, shocked and dumbfounded as he witnessed the launch of the odd looking craft.
But then he noticed the two figures flying as escort and he recovered his senses.
“Get ‘em boys!” he screamed, as he catapulted off the ground.
• • • •
Daneel and Capie were flying alongside the hull of the ship, watching as the Oni lifted off the ground in pursuit behind them.
“You take the port side, Mom!” shouted Daneel. “I’ll take starboard!”
The spacecraft was already 350 feet off the ground and just beginning its gravity assisted turn. The Oni split into two groups, a dozen headed for Capie and the rest headed for Daneel. Both groups were forced to steer wide of the ship’s plumes.
It wouldn’t take them long to reach optimum firing range.
• • • •
Paul was monitoring events in the cockpit viewscreen. There wasn’t much he could do to help.
“I should have never taken those shortcuts in this ship’s design! Next ship gets phaser banks and quantum torpedoes!” he muttered angrily, his nostrils flaring.
Well, there was one thing he could do.
“Red-lining the engines!” he shouted above the noise. “Give me all you got, baby!” And he shoved his imaginary throttle to the forward stop.
The engine plumes increased fifty percent in size, the Sirius Effort now leaping forward at 1.8 gees of acceleration. The engines were not designed for that level of operation, the stress and temperature loads rapidly peaking higher.
They wouldn’t last long at this rate.
• • • •
Two of the Oni were too close to the expanding engine plumes and got caught unawares. They were forced to back off and beat at their clothes to put out the smoking flames.
“Open fire!” screamed McNamee.
The leading wave of Oni did just that.
• • • •
The first plasma bolts raced at Capie and the spacecraft, and she quickly put up a shield warding them off. Gathering herself, she flung an arm forward, firing off a half dozen bolts of her own.
The aerial Battle of Kalgoorlie had begun.
A second later, Daneel too was under fire, the Oni plasma bolts bracketing him as he flew, dodging back and forth while at the same time, trying to protect the ship.
• • • •
In the city of Kalgoorlie, the Lorna Mitchell Spring Festival was in full swing at Hammond Park, with a record turnout this year.
Established by the Goldfields Art Board in 1985, the Spring Festival was an annual community driven event. Stall holders came from all over the state to participate in the Festival, in conjunction with varying acts of entertainment throughout the day. Attendance in recent years had peaked at over 5,000 patrons and it was not uncommon for people to spend the entire day at Hammond Park.
Crowds of people, mostly families, were strolling through the park or watching the annual game of Australian Rules football. Many other attendees were sauntering past the various stalls, examining the products or demonstrations being offered. The in-crowd among the youth was also present in record numbers, clustered in groups listening to music or simply socializing. One of the more popular entertainments being offered this year was a standup comedian from Perth who was attracting a healthy percentage of the crowd.
The weather was picture perfect, not a cloud in the sky and a slight breeze blowing from the south. Claire Worthington, one of the planners for the event this year, was absolutely tickled with the results. Moreover, the city’s elite had turned out in force, including the Mayor, the Chief Inspector and the CEO and their families.
Hammond Park, one of the most beautiful parks in Western Australia, was located in the northwest corner of the city, making it practically dead center of the Sirius Effort’s flight path.
• • • •
“Avro, Inspector,” said Lachlan Harris, the city’s CEO, as he walked up to Inspector Oliver McQuade, the supervising officer of the Kalgoorlie District Police station. “How’s the mob at home?”
“They’re beaut, mate. Thanks,” McQuade replied. “Yours?”
“Aces,” Harris responded, glancing around the park. “Rip snorter of a day. According to Worthington, the only thing lacking is the Neumanns.”
McQuade snorted and shook his head. “Pikers, they be. No sign of them for a week now. Got a team doing an inspection of the warehouse they’re renting. They might find something.”
But Harris was no longer paying attention. Like a growing number of people in the park, he was now staring to the west, over the tops of the trees, as a very strange spectacle appeared.
A spaceship was climbing into view, launching on a column of fire, its path apparently curving to the east. As he watched, it lifted higher in the air. What was even stranger was that there was a battle going on around it. A swarm of tiny dots were darting back and forth, this way and that, looking all the world like they were shooting balls of fire at each other. And perhaps they were. As he watched, one of them fell out of the sky, streaking toward the Earth, apparently shot out of the air.
The battle raged on as the pageant unfolded in the skies above them, moving higher in the sky as it also moved in their direction.
“Blimey!” muttered McQuade as studied the scene. “Claire can be happy now. The Neumanns just put in an appearance.”
Harris, craning his neck, one hand shading his eyes, chortled. “They be the Neumanns, you think? Doing what, shooting a scene from their movie? If that be true blue, I must say, Hollywood special effects have really gotten good. Better in real life even than on a theater screen.”
“Ruddy Americans,” muttered McQuade indignantly, as the ship and the battle were now so high, it was hard to make out any details.
• • • •
The battle was not going well.
The Oni had split up, englobing the ship, firing plasma bolts from all around them. It seemed impossible to protect the ship from every possible angle of attack.
And then there was the wizard firing at them too. It wasn’t McDougall—that much Capie was sure of. A new player, so it would seem. But he had a full-scale
Errabêlu talisman, making his plasma bolts considerably more powerful than what the Oni were firing.
Already there were half a dozen holes in the hull of the Sirius Effort. None yet in the cockpit area or the engines, but that was just a matter of time, considering how many bolts were getting past her and Daneel.
And she was flying as fast as she could but slowly falling behind the ship.
She didn’t realize it, but they were already twenty seconds into the launch, at one mile altitude and moving at 350 miles per hour. All she knew was that it was increasingly difficult to keep up with the ship.
• • • •
The ship was getting pounded, Paul knew. His virtual control panel was showing hull breaches in both cargo holds and Deck 3, the living quarters. No telling how much damage they had already taken.
He was keeping a watchful eye on Capie and Daneel, splitting the viewscreen to monitor both. They didn’t seem to be doing all that well either.
Well, maybe there was a way to help them a mite.
With a hand on the controls, he started pushing buttons.
• • • •
Capie was very much surprised when one of the engines sputtered and died.
Had it taken damage? She really didn’t have time to turn and look, so busy was she defending herself.
She was making progress, of a sort. Instead of deflecting or blocking the plasma bolts, she was now opening portals for them. The opposing wizard had done the same once or twice and she was taking a page from his play book.
Then, without warning, the ship spun on an axis, twisting in part due to the loss of one engine but probably from Paul’s assistance as well. Now the engine that was still running was pointing in a new direction—at two of the Oni on Daneel’s side of the ship.
Like moths in a flame, they momentarily grew very bright and then disappeared. The ship maintained its spin, trying to line up on other Oni.
But they scattered, momentarily taking the stress off of her. She took the opportunity to focus exclusively on one particular Oni who was looking at the ship and not at her.
She fired with everything she had.
Orders of Magnitude (The Genie and the Engineer Series Book 2) Page 40