Craggy 2: Another Last Flight for Craggy (5 page)

O
ne other good thing about being able to breathe without helmets was that mass meetings could be held outside. Potts tapped the microphone and called the meeting to order.

'Okay. I'll come right to the point. Stella Wayward, our computer expert, has been hard at work on the Varlindran ship. She has been able to access the hard-drive. Much of the data seems to have been wiped, either by Korlyn Num Sedindra, or by his killers. What little we found gives us some concerns. It seems this wasn't the only planet visited by the Varlindrans. We know that Varlindra was dying from gamma radiation from their sun.'

'Being highly advanced, they simply packed their bags and took over other planets. If they wanted a planet that was already occupied, they wiped out the locals. But it seems there was at least one race with the capability to fight back and we have seen a tiny recording of ships like the Varlindran one we have, being hammered by another advanced species.' Potts paused to let the information sink in, choosing his next words carefully. 'We have to face facts. There is a possibility, in my opinion, a very remote one, that the Varlindrans could return here. Or for that matter, the other lot.'

There was a collective hum from the crowd.

'And what do we do if they do come here?' called out a man.

Potts said, 'Fight back. We have Security Commander Dillow's ship, The Eye. That has laser cannon. We are also repairing the alien ship to be fully operational. Commander Forbes is with our engineers and their priority will be to make more laser cannons to be either used in adapted freighters or from the ground. Probably both. Now, I must stress. All these measures are merely precautionary but it only makes sense to be as prepared as humanly possible. If any of you are asked to contribute time and expertise, that becomes your priority. Commander Forbes and I also welcome constructive ideas to help us in our endeavours. That's it for now. Please go about your business. Further information will be released, as and when we have it. Thank you.'

The people walked solemnly away, and Potts stared up at the thankfully empty sky.

'H
ow did it go?' asked Forbes.

'They're a pretty sensible bunch, by and large.' said Potts, sipping a beer. 'Worried of course, but realistic. How did your day go?'

'I had to growl at the engineers, a bit.'

Potts said, 'Naturally. Let me guess. Can't be done. Can't be done in time. We don't have the tools, the materials or enough skilled people.'

'All of the above. I said stop with the negativity, roll up your bloody sleeves and get on with it.'

'And are they?'

'Naturally. They're studying The Eye's cannons. We have another little problem. Helium supplies are low. Ok for everyday freighter runs on short haul, but if we are fighting a war, nowhere near enough. I've organised for Big Bird to go to Moon and get more.'

Potts asked, 'Who are the pilots?'

'I've already got Rocky Ramshorn and Max Morgan to go. The helium extraction team are getting ready for a flight take off in Big Bird tomorrow. It'll be about ten weeks before we get the helium back here.'

'Keeping Fawn Dillow to take care of this end?'

'Yes,' said Forbes. 'She can fly the Varlindran ship with Stella, once it's operational. Breezy can fly The Eye. Lance will be getting his officers doing exercises. We haven't fuel to waste, though.'

'Anton. Worst case scenario. If we can get all our ships armed with laser cannon, down to the last freighter, we could have what, fifteen ships fully armed?'

'Correct.'

'And enough helium three to last how long at full on war?'

Forbes had expected Potts to ask that so had done the maths. 'Until Big Bird returns, in a full on war, five days, maybe seven days at most. Then we're grounded.'

'And vulnerable.'

'Pottsy. We'll fight until the last one of us breathing. This rock is our home and I ain't letting no little punk tell me otherwise.'

I
t was a sign of the stress of their jobs and the expectations placed on their shoulders that Stella and Breezy were wrapped up in a blanket together, listening to music and smoking marijuana. Their hands may have been for each other, but their minds were elsewhere.

Stella said, 'Forbes wants fawn and I to fly the ship into battle if we ever get it in the air.'

'Any sign of weapons yet?'

'Fawn has found something that could be a laser cannon of sorts. So, if we can fly, we might be able to shoot at something.'

Breezy squeezed Stella's thigh. 'And how do you feel about becoming a space warrior?'

'Space warrior? I like that handle. Sexy. But you know something? I got sick to my stomach when I saw those people being mowed down. Kids. Babies. Jeez. Babies. Yeah. If I get a chance to take a few of their killers down, I'll not only do it, I'll enjoy it.'

Breezy stubbed out the joint. 'I feel the same. Lance might be firing the cannon while I fly Eye, but I want to do some damage as well. Come to bed. I want to show you something.'

'What?'

'Me.'

* * *

S
kye Lewquarker was unwinding in a different way. There was a special guy she told her troubles to and a special place where she talked to him. She reached up and held his hand.

'Get a crashed bird with a shot to hell engine flying again. And oh. By the way. Figure out how the laser cannon works. It's nuts.'

'Oooh. Nuts. Mango nuts.'

Skye laughed. 'I'd keep that to yourself if I were you. Are you coming in the pool?'

Mango shook his head. He did actually use the pool if Andy Foreman insisted he needed a bath. But given a personal choice, water was something to drink if juice wasn't on tap, not to delouse in.

'Oooh. No Mango. Love Skye.'

'Hey. Watch it, buster. You and I are just best pals. You got three wives already. So. You got no pearls of wisdom for me on this engine thing?'

'Oooh. Mango get big banana.'

Skye laughed. 'With all the kids you got, you already got a big banana. But thanks for your sage like advice. Go look after your babies.'

'Oooh, Babies Mango go.'

'Bye, Mango. Obviously baby minding beats taking a bath with me. Say hi to your family from me.'

Mango took off to the trees, muttering things about babies, parental responsibilities, and bananas. Not necessarily in that order. Skye got out of the pool in Base Three, dressed and went home.

'L
ike old times,' said Max Morgan.

'I still hate the boring bits,' said Rocky Ramshorn, his hands waving expertly over the controls on Big Bird.  'Nothing to do but eat, sleep and kick back. Missing Amethyst and the kids already. You the same missing yours?'

'Yeah. But this is just a part of our lives. This is only my second flight back to Moon for the helium. It should last us a year if we're careful with it.'

'That depends if we go to war or not. You realize you, me and every other pilot will be right in the middle of it all?'

Morgan said, 'I suspect it will be a very quick war if it happens. And not in a good way.'

'At least we'll be ready for them. We saw that recording on the ship's computer. Those poor devils knew nothing about it until it was too late. I want to take out at least one ship before...'

Rocky didn't finish his sentence. He didn't have to.

Changing the topic of conversation, Morgan said, 'I'll go see how the others are.'

One section of Big Bird had been turned into accommodation for the gas extraction crew, the rest modified to take the airtight tanks for the gas. There were six in the crew, all men. Two were playing chess, one reading a rare, beaten up paperback book, and the other three were playing cards.

'Nice work if you can get it,' said Morgan.

'Not to mention a break from the families.' John Mantle was an affable, laid back man in his forties. He was in charge of the crew and responsible for the extraction. 'Everything ok at your end?'

'Sweet at the moment. Ten days to fill the tanks?'

'All being well. We have some maintenance to do first. Replace a few parts, that sort of thing. If that goes ok, it should take about six or seven days to extract the helium.'

'Sooner we get back, the better.' Max turned to the man with the book. 'Interesting?'

'Not bad. I waited nearly a year to get my hands on this. One hundred and ninety three books on Mars and by that I mean proper books like this one, not those digital nonsense. Here smell that.'

'What?'

Mantle said, 'Richie. Leave the man alone. He doesn't want to smell your old book.'

Richie insisted. 'Go on. Smell it.'

Morgan sighed. 'Anything for a quiet life.' He took the book and sniffed it. 'Sort of musty smelling. Like the inside of an old space boot.'

'Know what that smell is? History. You are holding a copy that's one hundred and thirty years old. Lots of people reading it, holding it, loving it.'

Morgan considered that. 'I'm not much of a reader. On the computer, sometimes. I listen to music the most.' He looked at the book, with its stains and creases. It was something worth keeping from the past. 'Jules Verne. A journey to the centre of the Earth.'

'Verne was way ahead of his time. And never out of print, more than a hundred years after he died in nineteen hundred and five.'

'Mind if I borrow it after you?'

Richie smiled as if he had help make another convert. 'I've almost finished. Maybe an hour and it's yours.'

'Thanks. Right. I'd better get back and make sure Rocky hasn't taken any detours.'

F
awn Dillow knocked on her father's door.

'A nice surprise,' said Lance Dillow. 'On your own?'

'Yes,' said Fawn, 'I wanted a chat.'

'Sounds ominous? Fancy a beer?'

'If you're having one. I still can't get used to you drinking the stuff.'

'As long as I'm not breaking any laws.' He got them a beer each and they sat facing each other. 'What's on your mind?'

Fawn sipped her beer, washing her mouth with the odd brew. 'It doesn't get easier to drink. Dad. I'm having trouble thinking straight. Living on a knife edge, thinking we could be attacked at any time. I'm finding it hard to concentrate.'

'Still working with Breezy and Stella?'

Fawn said, 'Mostly with Skye. I'm giving her a hand on the propulsion system. We're having to make a new injection unit for it.'

'And if that works will the ship fly?'

She shrugged. 'We hope so. The helium tank was ruptured, but we've managed to replace that with one of our own, with a few modifications. Dad. I've never killed anyone.'

'Glad to hear it. Don't you think you have it in you?'

Fawn got up and paced the tiny room. 'I'm afraid I might freeze in battle. That's all it could take. Just a couple of seconds hesitation and we get shot instead of shooting. You've killed before.'

'Not as many as people probably imagine I've killed. Three men. All in the line of duty and it was me or them. If you're asking how I live with myself after it, the truth is, I don't. Even though I had no choice, I still feel it deep down in my gut.'

'You still did it, though. Besides. It was part of what you do.'

Lance finished off the beer. One was enough for him. 'Yes. Part of what I do, not who I am.  Before you go into battle, not that I think it's likely, concentrate your mind on what you saw on that computer. A little girl, getting cut in half by a laser cannon. She's
my
motivation.  Just because she didn't look much like you and I, she was still just a kid. I want to take revenge for her. That as much as trying to save our planet.'

'I'll try to do that.

'Look. Tomorrow, Breezy and the rest of us are on The Eye, on a training exercise. Come with us. Fire the cannon a few times.'

'I'm supposed to be helping Skye.'

Lance said, 'Not much point getting that ship repaired if you can't fire a cannon. We are on an early start. We'll be away four hours tops. You can make up the time when you get back. Talk it over with Skye. She'll understand.'

'Okay. I'll do that.'

'On the ship at seven sharp.'

'Yes, Sir. I'll be there.'

'G
et you,' said Rocky.

'Get me what?'

'You reading a book.'

Morgan bristled, 'I'm too dumb to read?'

'No. I meant that thing. A paper thing. You should read a proper book. On the computer.'

'I do. Now and then. One of the crew had this. Bloody good. Smell this.'

'Jeez. Like it died or something. I wouldn't even wanna touch it. Who's is she, this Jules Verne?'

Morgan sighed. 'He, was brilliant. Years ahead of his time. He thought about space travel and other stuff years ago. What do you read?'

'This and that. I was reading some dude called Shakespeare.  Had to give up on it. You think Craggy speaks weird. Man. That dude was from another planet.'

Morgan laughed. 'Like us you mean. Craggy told me he was thinking about putting his stories down on the computer. Reckons there's money to be made.'

'It would definitely be fiction. I'd buy a copy.'

It was light banter, but it helped to hide their deepest fears. Even if their fears were unfounded, they would forever live under the shadow of the possibility of being attacked. At best, they would be living on a knife's edge, never being able to relax and get on with their lives. Perhaps never bringing up the dreaded subject in normal conversation, and yet the reality of that possibility was deeply entrenched in their minds.

They would forever be distracted from building their new world, forming a diverse, yet harmonious society. It had been generally accepted that Mars would have no weapons; no need for them. And already, what were they doing? Hurriedly, desperately, putting all their precious energy and resources into the production of deadly weapons. They all knew they were setting a dangerous precedent.

It was ironic. None wanted weapons, but they knew they couldn't make them fast enough. The very existence of weapons was an abomination. To be reviled and yet accepted as a necessary evil. Weapons such as these had finally been used to kill the Earth. Now they were being hastily created to save Mars. They would be a constant reminder to keep one eye on the skies and be prepared to fight to the death to save the last few human beings.