by Ray Hammond
Michael Fairfax was next into the ocean. He forced his still-heavy arms to paddle him closer to Emilia.
But Nicholas Negromonte did not follow as expected. Emilia and Michael waited, bobbing about beside the command module, which was now riding noticeably lower in the heavy seas, until Michael finally grabbed a handhold and painfully pulled himself back up the side of the craft to peer into its open hatch.
Negromonte was busily piling their cargo of hydrogen fuel pellets, flight-guidance computers, livestock embryos, medicines and DNA material onto the three couches.
‘Get out of there!’ Michael screamed above the rising wind. ‘This thing could submerge at any moment!’
‘We’ve got to get these supplies loaded,’ yelled back Negromonte as he worked frenziedly in the dark interior.
Suddenly Michael felt – rather than heard – the whump of helicopter rotor blades. Clinging on to the side of the bucking module, he raised his head.
A man was already descending from the chopper in a sling. Michael pointed towards Emilia, and the rescuer swung himself sideways and dropped into the water beside her. It took only thirty seconds for the winchman to get a second sling under her arms and then, with a wave of his hand, her swarthy rescuer was winched back up to the hovering helicopter, holding on tightly to his prize.
Five minutes later Michael felt a hand snatch at his spacesuit collar as he still clung to the side of the module. The winchman was now beside him on the hull and, like him, clinging on to its aluminium handholds. As the winchman pushed the empty sling in his direction, Michael shook his head and pointed mutely down inside the module.
The man inched upwards and put his head inside the escape hatch. Michael heard a shouted exchange, then the winchman unclipped himself from the winch line. Guiding both empty winch-slings down into the interior of the module, he held the line steady while Negromonte worked feverishly inside. Then the winchman waved to the crew hovering above, and the first load of cargo was hoisted skywards.
Through an observation window, Michael could see that Nick Negromonte was already up to his knees in water but was still working to position the next batch of vital cargo. There was little time left for him to get out.
Two more hoists were necessary before the cargo transfer was complete. Then their rescuer reattached himself to the line and proffered the empty sling to Michael.
Michael shook his head and pointed to the escape hatch, gesturing for the winchman to get Negromonte out before the module sank. But as he glanced up the heaving side of the spacecraft, he saw the skipper himself beginning to emerge.
‘Crew goes first,’ shouted Negromonte with a grin, and pointed down towards Michael.
Strong hands roughly whipped the padded sling over Michael’s head. Then he felt himself being jerked upwards. After a few instants swinging in the air, he glanced back down at the bobbing spacecraft. Nicholas Negromonte was now nowhere to be seen.
Michael was hauled backwards over the sill of the large Sikorsky and found himself propped up against a rear bulkhead beside Emilia. Other crew members quickly fitted safety harnesses around his body.
As the helicopter banked suddenly, the two rescued astronauts could see what the pilots were observing. The Apollo module was disappearing beneath the waves.
Despite descending to only fifty feet and circling the spot for an hour, no trace of Nicholas Negromonte could be found.
*
The former hulk people of Pacifica One had settled themselves along a lush coastline graced by wide sandy beaches.
‘It looks just like Cape Cod,’ Emilia yelled to Michael, as the helicopter circled before landing on the flight deck of the Global Haven.
What astonished both of them was the amount of development that had already taken place. For as far as the eye could see, both to the north and the south, furious building work was under way. Most surprisingly, all of the undeveloped inland surfaces seemed covered by thick emerald-green vegetation, and in the patchy sunshine they noticed the far-off glint of small lakes or rivers.
But their exaltation at seeing the Earth once again was tempered by their feelings of grief and shock at Nicholas Negromonte’s death.
‘It wasn’t accidental, you know,’ Emilia had shouted above the pounding of the helicopter’s rotor blades as it returned to base. ‘I was watching. He deliberately climbed back into the module just as it was going down.’
The co-pilot had relayed the news of their successful recovery to the communications centre on the Global Haven. He had also reported their unsuccessful search for its commander. Back at Mission Control, and on the moon, even the news of Negromonte’s loss could not diminish their jubilation at the advance party’s successful return to Earth. Elsewhere in space, wherever human beings had survived, the joy was unalloyed.
Forty-five minutes after they had been plucked from the sea, the new arrivals had been shown to separate staterooms on board the giant liner. Both of them found it so difficult to walk in the Earth’s gravity that they each needed to be supported by two of the fit young men running flight operations.
In their rooms, they found fresh clothes laid out for them, all bearing tags from designer boutiques in the Global Haven’s shopping malls. After showering and shaving, Michael pulled on a white shirt and casual black trousers and, grasping onto handrails as he walked, went to find Emilia.
‘This is heaven,’ she smiled, admitting him to her suite. ‘My first real change of clothes in eighteen months.’ Both were slowly beginning to reacclimatize to Earth’s energy-sapping gravity.
Up on the flight deck, they found the helicopter crew waiting for them, under a sky of gathering clouds.
‘All set, Mr and Mrs?’ called out the young pilot. After they settled themselves into the rear seats, Michael gave him the thumbs-up and seconds later they were in the air, flying northwards above a long line of beached hulk vessels. All now looked deserted.
The flight took ten minutes, mostly at low altitude over the rapidly growing new coastal development. Down below, people everywhere seemed to be busy constructing buildings or tending the small fields and vegetable patches that they had created.
‘It’s a pity that I’m going to have to advise them to relocate.’ shouted Emilia in Michael’s ear. ‘But there’s a real risk of tsunamis on this coastline. We’ll have to find them somewhere safer inland.’
The helicopter finally landed in a wide town square. As the pilot switched off his engines and the dust kicked up by the rotors began to clear, the passengers could see a large crowd of people gathered to meet them.
The co-pilot helped each of them down from the helicopter, and as Michael’s foot touched the soil of his home planet, he felt an overwhelming rush of emotion. He turned to Emilia, whose moist eyes revealed that she too felt overcome.
But there was no time for emotion – people were waiting. Exchanging glances, the two envoys from the marooned space community waved aside offers of assistance and forced their gravity-laden bodies to begin a slow but unaided progress towards the waiting reception committee.
All around, there was an air of suspended activity. Workmen were staring down at them from every rooftop – only a few young boys still ran heedlessly backwards and forwards, carrying hods of newly baked bricks.
Immediately behind the reception committee rose the framework of a larger building, perhaps intended to be a town hall or a civic centre.
Chanda Zia stepped forward from the crowd. He was wearing a gleaming white tunic and a white Nehru hat.
‘Namaste,’ he said, pressing his hands together in front of his face, then lifting them to his forehead before bowing deeply.
‘Namaste,’ echoed Michael, copying his gesture.
‘It is good to see you again, Counsellor Fairfax.’ Chanda extended his hand.
‘It’s sure good to see you, too.’ Michael shook the older man’s hand warmly, before turning to introduce his companion.
‘This is Doctor Emilia Knight,’ he said. ‘Emi
lia’s a geologist and she’ll select the site for the new landing strip, assuming you will still give us permission to build one.’
‘Aapka swagat Hai,’ said Chanda, grinning slightly.
‘Pardon me?’ said Emilia.
‘It means “You are welcome here”, Doctor Knight,’ Chanda said, again extending his hand.
Emilia smiled and gave a small bow as she returned his handshake.
‘What do you call this place?’ Michael swept an arm around the square.
‘We have called this land Kayaa Kahanaa,’ said Chanda. Then, a look of pronounced merriment on his face, he said, ‘If you and your friends on the moon intend to come and join us, we’ll expect you to learn some of our languages.’
Michael and Emilia exchanged involuntary smiles.
‘Kayaa Kahanaa means “Beyond Words of Praise”,’ explained Chanda. ‘That’s how we all felt when the seas finally subsided and we saw this land for the first time. We hope that is how you and all those who will follow you may also feel.’
‘Kayaa Kahanaa,’ repeated Michael carefully.
Then he felt a splash on his cheek, then another. It had started to rain.
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