Serendipity

by Dennis Ingram

  “I think the hand guns will be best,” Elizabeth said. “I know how to use one and they’ll be easier to run with.”

  Heidi and Nathalie nodded.

  “On my count, OK?” Elizabeth said. Heidi and Nathalie nodded again.

  “OK.” Elizabeth’s eyes flicked from Nathalie to Heidi and back to Nathalie again.

  “Three, two, one – go!”

  As one they scrambled to their feet and dashed to the table. Elizabeth felt an exhilaration unlike anything she’d ever felt before. The rescue of the Inspiration crew came close, perhaps, but the loss of her father had meant she felt little else besides misery. Here, there was danger and excitement and action.

  “Papa! John!”

  “Wha …?” John wiped sleep from his eyes. His stomach rumbled, leading to thoughts of breakfast.

  “I’ve reestablished contact with the ground.”

  John snapped properly awake with this news. “You have? With who?”

  “I have David on screen.”

  “Well, put him on!”

  The screen in John’s quarters lit up to show David, dark rings under bloodshot eyes.

  “David? What’s happened? You look like hell. Why couldn’t we contact you?”

  “Trouble,” David said, his expression grim. “Carla’s gone. She and her followers took the shuttle and destroyed our comms equipment. It’s taken until now to rig something up.”

  “Gone? Where?”

  “Broken Hill. They’ve taken control there. They also sent people to New Canaveral, but we shut them down.”

  “The capsule!” John had a moment of realization. “They must have sent it before Carla’s people turned up.”

  David nodded. “They arrived just before liftoff. Some fast thinking from Chuck and Ernie got it off the ground.”

  John frowned. David’s voice seemed flat. Something wasn’t right. “David? Is everything OK? Was anyone … hurt?”

  A long pause followed, longer than the transmission delay. “Grace. They smashed the stasis chamber.”

  “My God,” John said. “No!” But he saw from David’s face it was true.

  “John, Grace is gone. I have to think of the living now.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and it seemed an effort to reopen them. “Nathalie – she’s at Broken Hill.”

  John’s heart sank as he realized the implications. “What … why? Why would she be there?”

  “Looking out for you. She went down there to kick their asses and get them moving on a replacement rocket. She was still there when Carla left, pushing them to work on a passenger capsule to bring you back.”

  John leaped to his feet. “Oh God, that’s just like her! What are we going to do? We can’t just leave her there!”

  David nodded after the transmission delay. “Don’t worry, we’ll go after her as soon as we can. I’m bringing everyone back from Canaveral. While they’re helping prepare Haven we’ll send a party north.”

  John wrung his hands as he thought of his wife and how she’d saved him again. He should be the one going north, but he couldn’t while he was stuck up here. Or could he?

  “John, I have to go.”

  John nodded, his mind already churning with ideas. “Yeah, mate. Talk to you soon.”

  The moment called for stealth, not sprinting. But once decided, the three women felt a visceral need to act. They ran to the table and found crates of assault rifles, handguns, and ammunition clips.

  “Mon Dieu!” Nathalie said. “They intend to start a war!”

  Heidi and Elizabeth didn’t answer; they were busy scooping up guns and ammunition. Heidi thrust an automatic at Nathalie, who took it and held it as if it were poisonous.

  “Come on, Nathalie! We need to go!”

  Elizabeth’s hands shook so much she dropped some of her ammunition, the sound of the clips clattering on the concrete floor shocking them rigid, too scared to move.

  Heidi had just decided she could breathe again when a shout came from the office.

  “Hey! You! Stop right there!”

  Their eyes snapped around to see a thickset figure filling the doorway, some thirty meters away. Heidi recognized him. Maxim Popov, one of the secret crew. Selected as chief engineer of the Inspiration but supplanted by fellow countryman Viktor Panin.

  Maxim didn’t discover he’d been cheated of his life’s dream until waking decades later during the hair-raising escape from the doomed starship.

  He’d been furious rather than grateful. Angry he had wasted years of his life training for a mission that never happened for him. Outraged that Edward had left him to die after surviving a hazardous twelve-light-year journey. Frustrated to find himself in an environment where he felt he didn’t belong.

  He and his discontented crew mates, led by their erstwhile captain, now Carla’s lover and lieutenant, provided fertile ground for Carla’s ambitions.

  Now he’d found someone to take his frustrations out on. He ran out into the warehouse. The three woman he’d caught stealing took to their heels. He skidded to a stop and raised his gun, squeezing off a shot.

  Heidi knew better than to expect sympathy from Maxim. “Run!” she said, turning to lead their little party away from danger, dodging behind a fabricator to put cover between them and their pursuer.

  Nathalie and Elizabeth followed, another clip spilling from Elizabeth’s arms as they went.

  “Leave it!” Nathalie said, seeing Elizabeth falter. “We have enough! Vite!”

  To underscore the urgency, the report of a gun echoed in the cavernous building followed by the ping of a bullet ricocheting off the fabricator. They redoubled their efforts and chased after Heidi, dodging and weaving between machines and stacks of materials. No gunshots followed, but they heard shouts in the distance that spoke of imminent pursuit, driving them to find their way out to safety as quickly as possible.

  “I know, Hope, but I have to go.” John punched commands into the fabricator console with his right hand, his left clutching a protein bar.

  “The cargo capsule is not designed for …”

  “… a human passenger. Yes, I know. That’s why I’m fabricating carbon dioxide scrubbers and an acceleration couch.”

  “And a gun?” Hope said, a note of anxiety in her simulated voice.

  “Yeah, and a gun. It’ll be OK, you’ll see. They won’t be expecting me to turn up, I’ll take them by surprise.”

  “What if I don’t let you go?”

  John set his jaw. “I’d go, anyway.”

  “You can’t navigate without my help.”

  “Then help me.”

  Silence. “I do not want you to die.”

  “Me neither. But if I don’t go help your mother, she might die. Do you want that?”

  “No!”

  John didn’t know how Hope’s emotions worked. But she sure knew how to sound anguished.

  “Then help me.” He knew this was emotional blackmail, but he would never forgive himself if he did nothing. He’d rather die trying than abandon Nathalie.

  Another long pause.

  “I … will, Papa.”

  “Good. It’ll take me another hour to finish up here. Work out a reentry course to set me down on the near side of the tailings dam. That’ll give me an approach from the north; that might prove useful.”

  “As you wish.”

  Hope didn’t sound convinced. Exactly, John thought, as she intended.

  Carla pursed her lips, the rising sun behind her emphasizing her trim black-clad figure. “Three, you say?”

  Maxim nodded. “They stole pistols and ran outside. We couldn’t find them in the dark.”

  Carla’s eyes flicked to Franz then back to Maxim. “We can’t delay. But I don’t want to leave them here either – they’ll release the others and attack us from the rear. Take four people and find them, then join us in Haven.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Carla narrowed her eyes. “Restrain them with the others if they surrender. Otherwise kill them.”


  Maxim swallowed but nodded.

  Carla’s glare could’ve melted ice. “Be quick about it.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Maxim replied. “As you say.”

  Carla dismissed him with a look then turned to Franz. “Is everything ready?”

  He nodded. “The weapons are all loaded and we’re ready to go.”

  Carla’s eyes gleamed. Today, she intended to take her rightful place in the order of things on this planet. She inclined her head toward the waiting shuttle. “After you.”

  Heinrich lifted his head at the sound of shouted voices from beyond the storeroom door. He sprang to his feet and pressed his ear to the textured plastic. He heard a door shut and moments later the unmistakable whine of a flitter.

  “Hello?” He knocked on the door. “Hello?”

  No response. He tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. They’d jammed it somehow from the outside. He paced up and down in the little room, scowling.

  Maybe they’ve left me here. By now Carla must’ve launched her attack. That would explain why they’d departed in a hurry.

  Heinrich banged on the door with the heel of his hand. “Hello? Anyone?”

  Still no response. He stepped back from the door and considered. He’d heard nothing since they’d shut him in here after his failed attempt to take control of the launch site. Heinrich shook his head as he remembered what happened. Damn them! How dare they treat me like that!

  His thoughts turned to another recent humiliation, the night David tied him up and left him on Edward and Carla’s bed. His blood boiled as he relived the embarrassment. No one thought to check on him until early afternoon the next day. By then he’d pissed himself, staining the mattress like a bedwetting child. No one said anything, but they smirked at him behind his back, he knew it. Heinrich swore he’d make David pay for that and leaped at the chance to join Carla. Now he’d failed again. He looked at the door and decided.

  Nothing to lose now. He kicked it as hard as he could. It gave a little but didn’t break. Heinrich tried again, putting his shoulder into it. Still nothing. He cast his eyes around the boxes stacked in the room. He pulled a box off a shelf and rummaged through it looking for something, anything to help, scattering the contents everywhere.

  “Hah!” He plucked a pair of scissors from a box of odds and ends. “Idiots.” Heinrich went to the door and thrust the scissors in the gap between the door and the jamb, working the blades to force them into the narrow space. Then he pushed as hard as he could, straining against his improvised lever. The door gave a little, then a little more, allowing him to hook his fingers through. He strained with both hands to jerk it open with one decisive heave.

  With a grunt of satisfaction, he squeezed through the opening he’d made and looked around for the others. Nothing. Heinrich made his way to the door, reaching for his mask. He didn’t even think of the three men who’d died trying to stop the rocket on his command. Instead, he made his way to the one remaining skimmer, reaching the small craft with quick strides.

  Time to settle the account with David Miller.

  John floated in zero-g, strapped to his utilitarian acceleration couch. It wasn’t true the capsule couldn’t be used for human transport; they just hadn’t had time to finish some parts of it, including life support. But for a quick trip to the surface, that could be fixed with an oxygen bottle and a carbon dioxide scrubber.

  So there he lay, strapped in position, ready for the de-orbit burn. He wore cargo pants and a matching vest, pockets stuffed with ammunition and food. Even now, he sucked on candy, trying to restore his body’s energy supplies. He’d lost so much weight that his clothes hung off him. He hoped he had the stamina to get through this day.

  He felt a push against his back and heard the muted roar of the engines. The capsule was like a small version of their cargo landers – a cone-shaped vessel with a ring of thrusters at the base. These would slow him down for reentry and cushion his fall to a soft landing.

  He hoped.

  They hadn’t tested this spacecraft. The plan had been to send the cargo capsule down unmanned to test it first, then return with another fitted out for passengers to bring him home.

  The engines cut out and he floated in zero-g once more. Not long now to reentry. No turning back now. He thought of the weapon strapped to his seat. No way to test that either, but it ought to work.

  He snorted. Too late now. No sense in worrying about it.

  Things had not gone as planned. Heidi, Nathalie and Elizabeth found themselves pinned down behind a pile of spoil not far from a mine entrance. Carla’s people wasted no time hunting them down.

  Now and then one of the three women would fire a shot toward their pursuers, even though they knew it was hopeless. Their pursuers’ guns were bigger than theirs, and it was only a matter of time before they flanked them, and then it would be over.

  Heidi looked at Nathalie. “Should we surrender?”

  Nathalie pressed her lips together. She glanced at Elizabeth, then back at Heidi.

  “I … I don’t know what will happen if we do.”

  Heidi saw the fear in her eyes and knew she thought of Elizabeth before herself. Her heart sank. In war, human decency is often the first casualty. A war zone is a place to avoid, especially if you are a woman.

  “We wait,” she said, her eyes locked on Nathalie’s. “Until we have to.”

  Nathalie nodded, her knuckles whitening on the grip of her pistol. She looked to the heavens as if praying, and Heidi knew she thought of John. She may never be reunited with him now.

  But it seemed whichever God was looking after them, now answered. A loud double boom sounded from the sky. Nathalie’s mouth dropped open. Heidi’s eyes snapped up to see a long white trail bisecting the horizon.

  “Non! C’est impossible!” Nathalie said. “It can’t be!”

  “Maman? Is that … is that a lander?”

  A small black dot approached, a momentary flash of landing boosters turning it into a diamond in the sky.

  “Non, ma chérie,” Nathalie replied. Tears formed in her eyes. “That is your father.”

  The cargo capsule worked on the same principles as their landers, but the parameters of operation were vastly different. The capsule had much less fuel and a huge thrust-to-weight ratio to compensate. John remembered riding one of Hope’s landers down to the surface. That had been a white-knuckle ride, but this was a whole other story.

  The lander ignited its thrusters five kilometers above the surface and tested them at full power, then throttled right back for a measured approach and landing. The capsule didn’t have the fuel for that luxury. It worked the same way, but the test burn was a solid kick in the pants lasting only two seconds before the thrusters fell silent again. There was only time to curse at the sudden jolt before the capsule dropped again, leaving his stomach trying to climb into his throat.

  “Ohhhhhhh shit!” He realized he had no idea how high he was and how much longer he had to wait. It felt like an amusement park ride, one leaving him suspended high in the air without knowing how long it would be before he plunged back to Earth.

  He must have been holding his breath, because it all whooshed out when his wondering came to an end. The roar of the thrusters reverberated through the bare metal cabin. He struggled to breathe as the deceleration climbed through five gravities. A sharp jolt followed as the capsule kissed the ground. Silence fell.

  He lay dazed for a few seconds then remembered where he was and what he must do. His fingers fumbled with his straps and he half-climbed, half-fell off the couch. He struggled with the straps lashing his jury-rigged weapon to the base of his couch and stood up, checking the weapon. Nodding to himself, he walked to the hatch and palmed the door release even as he jammed his breathing mask into place.

  The door swung up and away and he jumped to the ground, stumbling in the loose gravel and falling to one knee.

  He knelt in the center of the dust cloud kicked up by his landing, limiting visibi
lity. The blistering heat of the capsule behind him encouraged him to regather himself and march away into the dust.

  Maxim’s gut churned as Carla set off, leaving him to his task of hunting down the rats that had stolen their guns and scuttled off to hide. He knew if he didn’t find them soon and rejoin the others, he would face the wrath of Carla, something even he felt apprehensive about.

  But once they spotted them over by the lines of spoil at the mine entrances, their superior weapons soon turned the tide of battle.

  Then the capsule arrived. He figured out what it was, but that took several precious minutes. He’d heard of them but had never seen one in action. It landed in a noisy sheet of flame only seconds after they first detected it, touching down in the open space between the manufacturing plant and the mine shaft, kicking up an enormous cloud of dust.

  They hadn’t had time to process the implications of this event before they became obvious. Out of the cloud walked a man – a man carrying the biggest, ugliest gun he had ever seen.

  John Coultas.

  He saw John take in his little group with their assault rifles, then his gaze shift to their erstwhile prey clustered behind the spoil heap to their left.

  A chill ran down his spine when he saw the smile on John’s face. John hefted his weapon and it barked a line of fire in his direction.

  To his surprise he was still alive when he next looked up to see John standing there, smoke trailing from the barrel of his weapon. Maxim looked to the ground next to him and swallowed when he saw the line of churned soil.

  “Run!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet.

  Gravel sprayed from beneath their feet as they sprinted toward the nearest cover – a mine entrance.

  “Bugger!” John looked at his unconventional weapon. He glanced up to see his targets disappearing into the mineshaft, then looked down again at his jammed gun.

  What John had cobbled together was more like a portable cannon than a machine gun. It wasn’t pretty, bolted together with a bulky magazine projecting from one side. It lobbed large-caliber projectiles at low velocity, but if a human got in the way there wouldn’t be much left of them to complain.