by T. Y. Carew
That got her thinking, though. What else was there, at her fingertips, if only she cared to look for it? Tentatively, she spoke to the console, “Display status report.”
To her surprise, a section of the console lit up and cleared to show a screen on which sets of figures began scrolling upwards. The background checks the on-board computer was making prior to launch. Mattie smiled easier now. Now she could see what the computer was doing as it was performing the actual functions.
A-OK. Ready to launch, the display said, and a ten-second timer counted down the seconds to take-off. Mattie pressed herself back into the seat, one hand fluttering to check the safety on her harness was engaged. She didn’t think a human body would fare well at those speeds if not tied down securely in some kind of protective shell, such as the seat she was in.
Whoof, was the only sound that reached her ears as Porteus shot up through Netera’s atmosphere. Mattie was so busy watching the now rapidly scrolling data on the screen in front of her eyes, she almost forgot to turn her head to the side to glimpse the distance grow between herself and terra firma. For all its profusion of light, Evelyn Cardew’s mansion soon became the tiniest pinprick in a mass of dark greens and browns. Twenty seconds after take-off all Mattie could see were clouds, and a few short seconds later, Mattie was floating above Netera, and Porteus leveled out.
What did the ship look like from the outside? she wondered. A small golden blob of man-made material streaking through the darkness of space at speeds far exceeding any normal cruising speeds. A miracle created by the human mind. Which reminded her… While the shuttle sped around Netera, she could pass the time trying to identify exactly what components were made of Adamanta. Her innate curiosity took over, and Mattie began a systematic feel for any Adamanta in her immediate vicinity.
“Show rendering,” she commanded the computer, and it complied. “Hmm,” she muttered under her breath, now looking at the two columns of text scrolling in parallel on her monitor. “What else can you tell me?
“Diagnostic panel.” Nothing happened, but the scrolling lines on the screen were interrupted by a single message, All Functions Performing as Set.
That must have meant that the ship was operating flawlessly. Well, as faultless as the programmer’s thinking, if one wanted to be precise. Mattie cast around her mind for anything else she could ask. “List component parts,” she said, but all she got in response was a message she couldn’t catch fully as it ran up the screen, chased by the columns of data from behind. She did see enough to realize the list would be too long and it could be found inside… something. She didn’t know what, but figured it would be some sort of manual of operation which she didn’t have access to—obviously, since she wasn’t expected to manually fly the ship.
“Trajectory and maps,” she asked of the computer, and the screen background changed to a picture of Netera. Above it, a small white dot indicated the movement of the spacecraft around the planet. It looked like it had already completed about three quarters of the orbit it had been set on.
“ETA,” Mattie said. The answer was immediate: N/A.
“N/A?” Mattie could feel the blood drain out of her face. N/A? As in not applicable? What did that mean? How could there be no ETA? There had to be an ETA. She couldn’t stay circling the planet on this orbit forever.
“Computer, determine earliest ETA on Netera’s surface, ASAP. Show rendering.”
A small black square appeared in a corner of the screen, and Matt watched it as is went through the same calculations she herself had been taught as part of her flying theory course. The answer blinked on the screen: ∞.
“No, no, that’s impossible,” Mattie shouted at the screen and watched with horror as the loop of her trajectory completed itself and the ship began its second tour around the planet.
Chapter 9
At ground level, Xander watched the ship shoot past like a meteor, not showing any sign of slowing or approaching its designated landing spot.
Heart thundering in his chest, he shouted in his comms, “Mayday. Mayday. Initiate distress protocol. I repeat, distress protocol.”
He knew it! He damn well knew it! Damn Kelton and the Army and the whole PR charade they were forced to go through for a little bit of spare change. Was all this worth risking Mattie’s life? Bursting through the door to the command room, he ran straight to an outside line and sent a flash bulletin to the Contessa’s on-board receiver. Tyra or Trey would pick it up. There was no time to lose when one of the crew was in trouble.
***
Five minutes later, Mattie had completed her own calculations, not that she could see any way to feed them into the computer. What was the point of learning how to land a ship if you couldn’t actually—physically—do it?
Frustrated by her helplessness, she began looking for any levers, buttons, handles, switches or any other irregularities in the console’s smooth lines that might switch the commands from the auto-pilot to manual piloting of the ship, but the surface of the console, like every other surface in this ship, was smooth and flawless. How was anyone supposed to pilot this thing?
A sob escaped her tightly pressed lips as the severity of her situation really hit home. Would anyone be able to reach her? Porteus was faster than most ships, which only functioned on either normal cruising speeds or FTL. One was too slow, the other much too fast. So then… what were her chances of rescue? The only thing she could come up with would be to try to catch Porteus in some netting, like those used by the trawlers collecting space debris in the off-peak travel times… but how long would that take to set up? And what if Porteus, at its insane speed, would slash right through the net, catching it just enough to alter its trajectory and send her on an aimless course through space, to be lost forever?
No, she couldn’t have that. As she could see no way anyone could rescue her, Mattie decided she’d have to help herself.
Tentatively, she stretched her mental feelers to connect with the Adamanta inside the console. A myriad of tiny components responded to her touch. But how could she possibly guess which one she needed to seize control of? What if she touched the wrong one and the ship plummeted to the planet’s surface, or worse—shot off into outer space?
And yet, she’d have to try.
Wait. What if…? What if she gave the computer a command? Would she be able to feel which Adamanta components worked to answer it?
Tentatively, she asked, “Compute alternate landing trajectory.” A set of components seemed to tingle in her mind, and she realized they must be the ones the computer was trying to access. The component parts responsible with the calculations. Of course, the computer told her its trajectory had been pre-programmed and an alternate one could not be calculated, but that was unimportant. Mattie had found a way forward.
One by one, she ruled out several patches of interconnected components, until she was left with only a couple of larger masses. These had to be what linked the console commands with the mechanical parts of the ships. And if giving the computer a command acted on an Adamanta nodule, perhaps it would work the other way around, too.
Mattie’s eyes drifted to the map still showing on the screen. Two more laps had been completed since she’d discovered the jam she was in, and now Porteus had just begun its fourth lap. This time around, Mattie decided, I’m landing this thing.
Slowly and gently, she grasped the Adamanta components in one of the sections she hadn’t worked on before and focused on them until she could feel the same tingle she had before. Suddenly an alarm began blaring, and the monitor bore the warning, Shields Down. Repair in Progress.
A moment later the alarm went off, and the monitor once more displayed the message, All Functions Performing as Set.
Mattie breathed deeply and, checking the map before pressing on, she focused on the remaining bunch of Adamanta components.
And then Porteus began falling in earnest.
Mattie let out a squeak of fear and mentally let go of everything. But the alarms c
ontinued to blare and this time there was no Repair in Progress message on the screen. Instead, the monitor flashed in red letters, Manual Control Required.
“Manual… control?” Mattie stammered. “I want manual control. Gimme manual control!” she shouted at the computer. There was no visible change, and the map now showed the point of impact as a cliff face a few miles short of the Red Lady’s residence.
Growling wordlessly, Mattie punched the console and shouted, “Engage manual flight control! Shut down autopilot. Manual mode. For goodness’ sake, let me pilot this thing!”
The monitor flashed one more warning, Impact Imminent in 2.4 Minutes, and then the blessed words, Manual Control in Operation.
“Finally!” Mattie said, and looked around for the usual set of levers. Nothing changed in the appearance of the console, no buttons popped out, no levers or handles marred the smooth lines of Porteus’ cockpit. “Shit!”
In desperation, Mattie shouted, “Power down port and starboard thrusters.”
The ship jerked back as if pulled by a stretched elastic band, and the angle of its descent became much more acute. The interior of the craft became bathed in red light, and the warning on the screen drowned out any writing.
Mattie reached for the Adamanta in the hull, but there was no way to make it float through the air. She really could do with a gliding device about now, something to level out altitude.
“Oh! Altitude 1200 feet,” she commanded the on-board computer just as the tops of the tallest pines skimmed the hull of the craft.
The ship jerked up, pressing her hard into the seat, and in the next moment Porteus crashed into the cliff face. One last cuss passed Mattie’s lips just before she blacked out.
***
“Sir, step away from the radio.”
Xander heard the command and let out a dry laugh at its futility. He was already sprinting out the door of the command room and towards the main house, where he was going to track down the Red Lady and pin her down, and not let go until she found a way to re-program the craft safely back to base.
Two steps away from the main door, it burst open and a bunch of guards surrounding the person in question rushed out as if on fire. At the same time, a loud boom assaulted their ears, and the ground they stood on shook underfoot.
“What the…?” said Xander.
“Down the cliff side,” Doctor Cardew ordered, and the guards took off at speed across the grounds to a path that seemed to snake down the cliff face the mansion was perched on.
Doctor Cardew was about to follow but Xander grabbed hold of her arm and arrested her progress. She tried to pull her arm out of his grip, and when she couldn’t, she snapped her head back to him with a look of sheer fury. In the next moment she realized who he was and the fury was replaced with utter concern.
“I know. One of your crew was on board. Adamanta.”
“Where is she?”
“That crash… that crash was Porteus. Come on. Let’s go. You’re wasting time.”
Xander ground his teeth but let go of the woman and sprinted past her to catch up with the men she’d sent to the site of the crash.
He found them shifting rubble and splintered trees away from the shuttle, which lay on its side, its hull battered but thankfully unmarred by flames. They righted the craft, then one of them forced the hatch open and leaned in. Xander vaulted over a tree being carried away by two others in his rush to get to the ship.
“She’s alive,” came the call from inside, and Xander’s knees almost buckled.
From above, a medevac craft hovered closer, and as soon as it was in range, two paramedics jumped out and approached the craft. Xander watched as they carried Mattie out on a foldable stretcher, then two minutes later they were off, on the way to the hospital. He was desperate to go with her, but nothing he’d said and done made any difference. The crew simply shut the door in his face and took off.
Xander tried to calm himself for long enough to make it back up the hill and hire a shuttle to the hospital, where he would make sure to stay at Mattie’s side no matter what. As it was, he’d seen no outer signs of damage to her body other than the streaks of blood on her face, evidence she’d tried with all her might to control the Adamanta in the craft. But there was no telling the extent of internal injuries she may have suffered.
Fists clenched, he turned to go back up the cliff and the hell out of there, as fast as possible. Probably best to get Drew as well, if he wanted to accompany him to the hospital. He figured he should at least ask.
He found the path blocked by Doctor Cardew, who pulled a comm away from her lips as she saw him approach.
“I’m doing all I can. My staff will make sure she will get the best care available.”
“You’ve already done enough damage,” Xander growled as he shoved his way past. “How many lost lives will it take for you to see how your amazing prototypes are NOT WORKING?” The last words had come out in a shout, their echo still bouncing off the exposed rocks like so many pointing fingers.
“She did this. She brought it all on herself.”
Xander couldn’t believe her gall. Shaking with suppressed rage, he turned back to loom over the twisted woman.
“Like the soldiers on Anathema? Did they bring it upon themselves, too?”
“Porteus was pre-programmed. It would have landed her back down. She must have tampered with the controls. There’s no other explanation,” she shouted back, but Xander saw the worry in her eyes. She should worry. If he had anything to do with it, he’d make damn sure this last stunt would ruin her.
Hurried footsteps came down the path, and Xander automatically stepped to the side. “Don’t you dare put that on her,” he said just as the man who’d rushed past reached the good doctor and put his arm around her. She leant on him as if she was in desperate need of support, and that was when Xander recognized him. Simon.
He snorted in disgust at the sight of the two holding onto each other.
“I’ll leave you to your scheming. You’d better come up with a good explanation for what happened tonight, because I’m not letting it go. If you have any sense, make damned sure the on-board recording is out and ready for me when I return from the hospital, and if I see any sign it’s been tampered with, I’ll drag you and your name through mud until no one will remember you ever existed, Doctor Cardew. Don’t underestimate me. I’ll finish you if it’s the last thing I do.”
And with that he turned his back on the coyotes and began marching up the hill.
Chapter 10
From the hospital, Xander stalked straight to General Kelton’s private office, determined to sleep across his doorway until the man came in or out. He would not be swayed from making his point that day.
To his surprise, the general’s voice asked him in as soon as he’d rapped on the door.
Xander did a double-take when he looked into the general’s face. The man looked tired and aged. More lines wrinkled his face, and his hair looked more speckled with silver than a couple of days ago. Or at least that was Xander’s perception.
“How is she?” the general asked, gesturing for Xander to take a seat.
“Recovering,” he said, pinning the general with a look he hoped conveyed all his simmering anger at the whole situation they’d been pushed into. “No broken bones. She was sedated but awake enough to chat for a few minutes. She’ll be fine.”
General Kelton nodded and let out a long sigh.
“Did you know what that woman had planned to have Mattie do? In the name of this… publicity?”
The general shook his head then said, “Clearly a publicity stunt gone wrong.”
“A publicity stunt that benefited only Doctor Cardew. Was it worth risking the life of Captain Adair? Is that how little value you place on her life?”
“Colonel!”
“Sir!”
The men stood with only the desk between them, staring into each other’s eyes. Regret facing worry, burden facing angst.
“Is t
his how it’s going to be? Sir? What we should expect?”
The general shifted on his feet and averted his gaze from Xander’s.
“There’s got to be a better way to fund research. Something that wouldn’t involve loss of life or limb.”
“You have any suggestions?” the general asked, and Xander looked away. “Come by my office at seven, and we’ll work through the flight recording together. I have nothing to hide, Colonel. If there is anything I can do to help you, I will.”
It was a subdued Xander Finlay who walked away from General Kelton’s office and back to Mattie’s hospital bed. He believed the general wanted to be helpful, but was there anything the man could do? Or would it be wiser to start looking at alternative solutions for their lack of research funding now?
***
Mattie was beginning to fidget. She hated sitting idle in a sick bay when she felt good enough to be doing something useful. Like having a chat with Tyra or maybe getting another training session in before her pilot exam.
Hurried steps came closer, drawing her eyes to the door. Xander’s face peeked through, and Mattie smiled wide.
“Oh. You’re up,” he said.
“Been up awhile. They’ve done all the tests under the sun. Just waiting for my discharge papers now.”
“How do you feel?”
Mattie shrugged. “Fine. As well as always.” Xander raised an eyebrow. “Okay, frustrated as hell for sitting here twiddling my thumbs. I want out. I want a good meal, and a good coffee, and a good chat with Tyra and the crew. To begin with.”
Xander chuckled. “That’s more like the Mattie I know and lo—” He stopped short of saying the word, but Mattie was already smiling, pink-faced, at her knees.
“So can you spring me out of here?” she said after a while.
“See what I can do,” said Xander, looking glad to have something to do that would take him out of the awkwardness of the situation.
