Twilight Earth (11 page)

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to need more help. The question is will I still be here when they get here?” Addson asked rhetorically.

The literal minded AI answered the question anyway. “I am unable to respond accurately.  The crash destroyed my external emergency pod. No repair is possible. Replacement is required. The emergency beacon is not functioning.”

“It has to be, I saw the light reflected on the waves outside!”

“It is possible the visual beacon survived; however, the transmitter is NSL and will not respond to self-diagnostic requests,” the A.I. replied.

NSL generally stood for ‘Non-Serviceable eLectronics’, but Addson knew the techs called it ‘No Signs of Life’.

“Atmospheric pressure inside the cabin is decreasing, and ohto content is rising. You will begin to feel intoxicated soon,” the AI said. “The right side of your torso seems to have taken the brunt of the damage. You have two cracked ribs and a severely bruised collarbone. There are bruised ribs on both sides, but it is the collarbone and the cracked ribs that are hampering your movements.

“The pain in your neck and head is from the strained muscle groups in your neck. Luckily, you do not have a concussion. Normally, I would have you wrap your chest with compression tape to help hold the ribs in place. However, because of the atmosphere in the cabin, that could prove to be potentially fatal until the atmosphere issues are resolved."

“Isn’t ohto poisoning fatal? If I can’t move to make the repairs to restore the atmosphere I’m going to die. Not much of a choice,” Addson countered.

“Your information is not completely accurate. There is no such thing as ohto poisoning. Physiological difficulty arises because your system is not accustomed to processing ohto at these levels. Current atmospheric restrictions are artificially imposed,” The AI replied.

“So you’re saying that I can breathe the atmosphere of this planet?” Addson asked.

“Correct. The ability to process atmospheres rich in ohto is leaving your race, due to an artificial restriction imposed by the Consortium. However, you still retain the ability, although you will need to adjust to it. As I warned you before, you will begin to feel intoxicated soon. Actually, considering the ohto levels in here already, I am surprised you are not."

“I feel lightheaded, but I thought that was because of the pain I’ve been feeling,” Addson replied.

“It could be a combination of the atmosphere as well as your pain. I hope you understand, I would give you a pain reliever, but that would interfere with your respiration. If you move slowly, you should be able to do some things. However, do not twist, do not stretch, do not lift more than a half-kilo,” the AI instructed.

Addson chuckled and immediately regretted it. Through gritted teeth, she replied, “In other words, don’t fuckin’ move!"

“My advice is, since we are not in danger of sinking at this point, simply stay reclined and get used to breathing. Once you are acclimated, then I can inject you with a pain killer, and you can wrap your ribs, prior to initiating repairs.”

“Before we crashed, control issued a storm warning for this area. We are already in the beginning of it. The natural storms on this planet can be very nasty. I really should try to seal the breach in the canopy. That way, we can at least remain afloat if it gets really bad,” Addson countered. “I will have to stretch a little in order to reach the breach.”

The medical A.I. paused a moment during which it proffered the injector again. “Before you begin, inject this into your arm. It will help with the pain by stimulating your natural endorphins, and it should keep you from passing out again.”

Doing as the medical A.I. directed her, she put the injector to her arm and pulled the trigger. In seconds, her heart was racing and the pain felt dulled. She replaced the injector, and lifted herself into a sitting position. She opened another cabinet to retrieve a can of sealant, and the extra respirator she kept there.

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S
urvivor Pod 0001a

6 Apr. 8255 CE

Location Unknown

Planet Earth, SOL system.

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B
en was just beginning to look over the report from the transportation group on the safety of the tunnels and transit system when Marcy burst into his office.

“Ben! There was a really big explosion above us on the surface! Our sonar says there’s wreckage on its way down!”

“Is there anyone alive in there?” Ben asked.

“Not as far as we can tell. But there is a larger target still on the surface; it could be a lifeboat, or pod or something. I think you should know, there is a really bad storm brewing. The low pressure system to the south is huge, and it’s sucking up moisture like a sponge," Marcy explained. “If this were the old ecology, I would say it’s well on the way to becoming a hurricane. As it is, it’s a tropical storm and heading straight for us. If there is a survivor up there, he’s a dead man.”

“Do we have a way to assist him? I mean we’re pretty deep out here, and I don’t remember a DSRV as being in the inventory," Ben said, thoughtfully. “Have you found anything in our military depot?”

“Well, yes and no, I can only wonder at the conditions after so many years of war, but there are several ... vessels, for the lack of a better description, so, for at least part of the war, the base had to have been underwater. We could use one of those to recover any survivors, if we knew how to drive/fly/operate them. I should mention that all of them seem to be armed. There is a lot of technology there that we simply don’t understand yet.”

“How long would it take you to figure it out?” Ben asked.

“Well, we called on a couple of former pilots from our sister pods, and a few ex-military to help us go over them. One of the pilots says she thinks she could fly it, but wouldn’t feel comfortable or certain until she had some time behind the controls. As soon as we get power back to the base, we should be able to supply power to the simulators we found. That way, they should be able to safely get some flying time in,” Marcy explained.

Ben seemed disappointed. “So, not for a month or so. I don’t think this guy’ll have that long. Maybe someone will find him before the storm kills him. Besides, a technologically advanced society should be able to locate a life boat, right?”

“I would think so, Ben, but how long should we let him float up there?” Marcy asked.

Instead of answering her, he was thoughtful for a moment. “Could you send that pilot to see me please? I’d like to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll send her to see you as soon as I get back to the base. It’ll be nice when we get that reactor up and running. Then we could just call over there,” Marcy said as she left.

He was distracted now and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a person or people might be in the lifeboat. He imagined they were scared no matter what else was going on. They had to have known about the storm and that they were in very deep water.

But what about the explosion that stranded that lifeboat? Was it simply an accident, or had it been deliberate? Was there still war in the outside world? Should he plan to keep the people safely hidden? He didn’t know and he desperately needed more information about the outside world. The survivors of that accident could certainly provide that information. However, was it worth risking the life of one of their pilots to find out?

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Forcefully controlling his thoughts, he set the dilemma aside so he could finish the report he had started. He needed to decide if they could use the transportation system for long distance travel between pods.

When he finished the report, he ordered the replacement of several important sensors, as well as the servicing of all the emergency shelters before he would approve the use of the system.

He was about to read about the progress made in the hydroponics areas when there was a discrete knock on his door.

“Come in!” Ben replied automatically.

An athletic woman in her mid-twenties entered and smiled at him. “You asked to see me, Sir?”

Ben grinned at the ‘Sir'. It was going to take some getting used to. “Please call me, Ben,” he said as he stood and held out his hand. When she shook it, she introduced herself as Gail Greenwold. He asked her to sit. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink perhaps, coffee? Tea?”

“Just water, please. I forgot to grab a bottle when I got here.”

He got a bottle of cold water from the replicator and got himself a cup of mocha before he sat back down. “I assume you are aware of the situation above us?”

“Yeah, I was one of the ones standing there when Marcy got the news. I was in the cockpit of one of the ships when she came back and asked me to come see you,” Gail replied.

Ben nodded. “Sorry to take you away, but I need to ask; if it comes to it, do you think you could safely take the ship out and rescue any survivors in that lifeboat?”

The woman frowned slightly. “Sir, any rescue is inherently dangerous simply because of the nature of the situation. If you meant to ask if I could drive the ship safely, I believe I could. The controls are not very different from the helicopters I flew in the military. I would call them a mix of Apache, Comanche, and Chinook, with a bit of Blackhawk thrown in for good measure.

“They do have weapons as well. I’m not so sure about those, but if I needed to use them chances are the mission would be a failure anyway. I’d need time in the simulators before I could comfortably say I could fight the ship too. However, I feel confident I could do what was needed to get a team up to the surface and back safely,” she finished.

“Who would you need for a team and do you have any suggestions?” Ben asked.

She paused thoughtfully. “When we ran combat med-evac ops, we had two medics and four armed grunts. I think for this, we’d need the two medics, and at least six grunts. After all, we have no idea what caused the explosion.”

“So, two doctors, yourself, and four others with guns?” Ben asked.

“No sir, the medics shouldn’t be doctors. It’s too dangerous to risk them. My whole squadron, except for the doctors, was assigned to the pods, Sir. I can call up my flight crew and we can do this,” Gail said.

Ben went through the lists of the local pods and didn’t find any military included. “I don’t understand, there are no military units on the population lists for our pods."

“As I understand it Sir, we were listed as civilians since the military dropped us when we were assigned to the project. Ours was the last pod sealed, since we were handling transportation for those too far away for ground transport to recover,” Gail explained.

“So then the other pilots Marcy mentioned ...” Ben began and Gail nodded.

“They are the other pilots from my old squadron. I would imagine there are others that were included as well, spread out all over the world. A lot of the folks helping out at the base are ex-military.”

Ben snorted. “I hate surprises; at least this one was a good one.”

She chuckled and nodded agreement. “No leader likes surprises; it’s inherent to the job. Would you like me to get my old team together, Sir?”

“I told you; call me Ben!”

“With respect, Sir, you are my Commander, addressing you any other way would just be wrong!” Gail replied.

“Okay, okay! I’ll surrender for now. Are all your pilots’ rotary wing only?” Ben asked.

“No, Sir. We are all qualified on fighters, attack helos and even passenger jets. Our medics are PA’s certified in combat and emergency procedures, and our grunts are mostly navy SEALs or delta. All of us can teach our skills to others as well," Gail replied proudly.

Ben nodded, grinning. “I guess Dad really did think of everything. Yes, please assemble your team and do what you need to do to get ready for the rescue mission. If we need to do this it’ll be in the next day or so I think. We’re waiting for someone else to recover them, but if this storm gets worse, we’ll have to do it.”

“Again, with respect Sir, we need to go now or not at all. If that storm gets much worse it’s gonna make the surface impossible to work in. We could lose the lifeboat as well as my team,” Gail explained. "I understand your desire to keep us a secret, but if we are going to do this, it has to be now.”

“Can you tell me what you think your odds of success are?” Ben asked.

“I’d say about eighty percent and dropping every minute.”

Ben made the decision. “Go. But if you feel it’s too dangerous or there are unacceptable risks, abort. I don’t want to lose any of you, understood?"

Gail stood and saluted. “Understood, Sir.”

Ben clumsily returned the salute and she was gone so fast he wondered if she could teleport.

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S
ector 34871, Beta Quadrant

Planet Terral III

Cassian March

Duchy of Cassias

Hyclarion Imperial Consortium

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A
ddson relaxed back into the reclined couch. The simple task of applying the sealant to the cracked canopy had taken all her energy and hurt tremendously. The medical computer had even warned her, twice, that she needed to hurry because she was most likely making things worse.

“So, since I don’t have a concussion, does that mean I can safely take a nap?” Addson asked, slurring her words.

“Do you believe that your current pain level will allow for you to sleep?” The computer asked.

“Probably not, but I am feeling sleepy. I think it might be that intoxication thing you were talking about earlier. So I thought I would ask, just in case.”

“Understood. If you can sleep, I would recommend you do so. When you sleep your respiration slows, which would allow your body to re-acclimate to this atmosphere easier,” the computer replied. “I will monitor you and the status of the ship. If something changes I will awaken you.”

“Thanks, I think I will just lie here quietly and see what happens,” Addson replied with a sigh.

The medical computer remained quiet while Addson rested. It was pleased that once she had lain there for a time she did indeed fall asleep. While the ohto levels in the cabin continued to rise and finally matched those of the outside, the computer once again checked Addson’s breathing.