The Energy Scavengers
Page 6
*** * ***
The ground trembled as Calvin shut down his extra cameras and sensing devices. Slowly he became deaf, dumb and partially blind. All power shifted to his wheels and the little motors that powered them. With reluctance he turned off his rear-facing infrared camera, deciding to rely exclusively on the low-resolution 3D imaging device. There was no point in watching Grak’s gargantuan frame barrel after him. Calvin possessed nothing capable of fending off the power and wrath of the Gnashing. The rock-bashing arms would do their work. Whether he witnessed his own destruction, or not, did not matter.
“Rover, little-little, no peace, no peace, fast-not-fast, gnash, gnash, gnash!”
Grak spat epithets after Calvin, but they were cryptic and confused, as all the mining machine’s communications seemed to be. Calvin had given up trying to decipher their meaning. Grak’s language was older, the coding difficult to match up within modern translations. He also appeared to be damaged, a likely cause for the fragmentation in his speech.
At first, Calvin’s small, metal wheels drove him swiftly down a descending passage, and he got an immediate lead on the larger machine. But Grak was surprisingly swift. Calvin realized that he would be overtaken soon in a straight race. His only advantage was Grak’s erratic behavior and temperament. The miner frequently broke off the chase to bash his great arms into the sides of the tunnel, leaving long deep gouges in the rock.
“Be morph, iron, dust, shape space, pillar-pillar, to gnash, gnash, gnash!” Grak grunted, as dust and rocks crumbled and the walls themselves vibrated.
At these times, Calvin gained some distance and ducked down promising side tunnels. Approaching each juncture he quickly activated his radar and tried to discern his options to avoid dead ends. His best hope was to make for the surface, as he didn’t think the mining machine would care to leave the underground labyrinth of tunnels. Each time he found a rising grade in the floor, he took it.
A battery warning came on and Calvin felt his power drop to a quarter capacity. Without his solar-wings he had little hope of survival, even on the surface, but he soldiered on. Callisto XI’s reconnaissance team could possibly find him outside. He could go into hibernation mode and activate a distress signal, use the remainder of his power for that purpose. Calvin expected that he could continue to transmit for weeks. Still, he knew, logically, that there might be no reconnaissance team.
Just as Calvin tried to calculate the chances of a rescue, he spotted an opportunity to his right: a large-chambered room still full of iron pillars. At the back of the room the pillars were closer together leaving narrower spaces, as if a different mineral had been present. He darted into the room and maneuvered around the pillars. Behind him, Grak was ever present.
“Gnash, gnash, gnash, room of iron, piece for my peace, the rover I chase, seams twenty-seven and thirty-three.”
As Calvin darted between the large columns of iron, the rumbling grew closer. Ahead he could see glowing narrow pillars. He drew nearer, extending a sensing device, deciding the discovery was worth the lost energy. Garulium! He had been right before. The planet had a fair amount of the valuable mineral, common in this part of the galaxy. For some reason the Cahokia had not mined the material, though human scientists had found samples of the element to be an extremely efficient fuel source. He made for the Garulium seam.
Something shrieked loudly, the sound of metal on metal. Calvin’s back sunk down and his front wheels popped up, uselessly spinning in the air. Grak had smacked down on him hard. Warnings flashed up and down Calvin’s circuitry, as his automatic suspension tried to adjust.
Grak lifted his gnasher for another blow. As he did, Calvin put all energy toward his back wheels and broke free. He activated his rear camera. The flickering image showed Grak’s smashing arm descending upon him. This time the dangerous spikes fell short of Calvin’s body, but managed to strike his arm. The carbide tips spun into his main maneuverable and manipulative piece. Clacking loudly, the studded-spikes cracked against him. In desperation, Calvin popped out the metal pin holding the arm in place and shed the piece like a lizard’s tail.
Grak’s teeth bit into the metal and the arm folded in two against the ground. A second later the detached appendage was flung away by the spinning gnasher. At the same time, Calvin slid in between two columns of Garulium. He was rows deep into a smaller room, when he heard a loud bellow and felt Grak crash against the precious minerals. The gnashers whirred as they tore into the columns.
“Grak-win, Grak here, this no fuel, not sun, no one, gnash, gnash, gnash.”
Calvin fled down the rows of columns until he was far into the smaller chamber. Making sure he could still hear Grak burrowing into the Garulium at the other end, he darted back into the larger room and made for another exit. The echoes of the ancient mining machine chased after him as he sped away.