Rubicon Crossing

by Ralph Prince

  “Are the winches ready?” Don asked peering up the slope to see several Underdwellers standing by to raise the cables.

  “We have just finished,” reported one of the Underdwellers.

  Looking once again at his chronometer, Don cursed silently. It had taken more than an hour to reach the complex, and would take at least one more to return to the ship. At that rate, he thought, it would be dark long before all the panels could be transported, and the ridge wasn’t safe to navigate in the dark. Time was the enemy now, and it was a relentless adversary.

  “Don’t worry,” Stanton said, sensing the captain’s concern. “I’m sure we’ll make it in plenty of time.”

  “For all our sakes,” Don replied, “I hope you’re right. Will should have the old panels removed by now. Once we get these back to the ship, it shouldn’t take long to install them.”

  “Then let’s get to work,” Stanton said.

  “Ok,” Don said, addressing the workers. “Let’s get these panels unloaded and up that ridge. Please be careful; I don’t want to make more trips than are necessary. We’ll need at least six people on each one, so we’re going to have to make two trips over. The winches will do most of the lifting, but they are fragile, so we need to keep them from being damaged against the rocks.”

  A loud crash resounded as one of the panels fell from the truck and shattered on the ground.

  “What the hell happened,” Don demanded angrily, causing everyone to become still and quiet.

  “I was trying to help,” one of the Tants explained quietly, pointing to two Underdwellers on the truck. “But they said they could do it without the help of my kind.”

  “We don’t need the Tants,” one of the Underdwellers hissed.

  “Apparently you do,” Don shouted. “I need twelve of these panels, and the truck only held fifteen. Now I only have two spares because you can’t work with them.”

  Don surveyed the group. The workers were tired and overheated, especially the Tants, owing to their normal nocturnal habits. Furthermore, they were unable to lift as much as the Underdwellers due to physical limitations of their deformities.

  “I need you to work together,” Don said in a more even tone. “I can’t stress enough the importance of what we are doing here.”

  “We need more help,” said the Underdweller. “Useful help.” he added glaring at the Tant.

  “No,” Don said, shaking his head. “We don’t have time to recruit more help, nor do we need it. We are doing something great this day, though you may not realize it yet. The story of what happens here today will be told by every man to his son. From this day to the end of the world, we shall be remembered. We few,” he paused before continuing in a stern voice. “We band of brothers. For he, today, that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be they Tant or Underdweller. From now on, I need you all working together as brothers. The war is over. Either you make peace, or everything we’ve tried to accomplish here is for nothing. What’s it going to be?”

  The Underdweller on the truck lowered his eyes in shame, then sheepishly looked toward the Tant. “Could you help us unload these panels?” he asked.

  “Good speech,” Stanton said quietly. “You have a way with words.”

  “So does William Shakespeare,” Don replied, prompting a confused look from Stanton.

  The first set of panels were unloaded and secured to the winch lines. Slowly, the teams, each composed of both Tants and Underdwellers, guided them up the steep slope toward the summit.

  Midway up the ridge, Don’s greatest dread was realized, as one of the panels slipped from the grips of its weary work crew, shattering and cascading over the ash covered rocks below. There was only one spare panel left.

  Don saw the planet’s hope for survival rapidly dwindling, but could do nothing except continue trying. Helplessness wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to, but it seemed to be creeping in around him with every passing second. Once again, the Overseer’s words taunted him.

  Moments later, as the second panel crashed against the rocky slope, the last of his hopes went with it. He knew saving the planet was beyond his ability. The Overseer had been right; nothing he could do would be of any consequence.

  “Captain Garris!” Stanton called, extending a finger toward the top of the ridge.

  Looking up the slope, Don spotted the object of the Underdweller’s excitement; the top of the ridge was lined with people. Descending the slope toward them was Karen, waving and calling out Donald’s name.

  Leaving the others to support the panel he had been helping with, the captain started up the slope toward her.

  “Donald,” she said, as they met on a small ledge, “I brought more help.”

  “You couldn’t have come at a better time” Don said, throwing his arms around her. “I was about to give up.”

  “You said all we can do is try,” she said between heavy breaths. “So, I tried to get more Underdwellers to help you. Are a hundred enough?”

  “Plenty,” he said, giving her a quick kiss. “You probably just saved your world. But how did you get so many to help? Stanton said he tried everything.”

  “You told Stanton you needed fifty strong men,” she replied. “He couldn’t convince that many to help, so I thought women would work just as well.”

  “Women?” Don asked, looking back toward the people lining the ridge. It suddenly occurred to him that most of the Underdweller population was female, and he had specifically asked Stanton for men. “Karen,” he said, “you’re wonderful.”

  CHAPTER 14: Delays

  Karen tossed and turned restlessly in the large, lonely bed, striving for sleep that wouldn’t come. Sitting up, she fluffed the pillow for the fifth time, and looked at the chronometer on the desk. It was after midnight, but still, Donald hadn’t returned.

  She flopped back into the pillow and, with a heavy sigh, tried to imagine he was with her. The images were short lived, and once again she found herself staring at the featureless ceiling.

  Her heart quickened as she heard the quiet whoosh of the door sliding to the side. Bolting upright, she saw his silhouette framed in the open portal.

  “Donald,” she called softly as he stepped in and the door slid shut. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “You didn’t have to,” he said, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. “You should be getting some sleep.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, sliding across the bed and wrapping her arms around his muscular shoulders. The chill of his body caused her to shiver. “It’s not the same without you. The room seems so quiet and empty.”

  He couldn’t count the number of times he had felt the same way, nor the number of sleepless nights he had spent on the bridge for that reason. The nightmares that had haunted him since Captain Turner’s, and subsequently Victor’s, deaths crept up on him when he slept; at least they used to. It seemed Karen had chased them away with her presence. He no longer had to be alone.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, gently grasping her hand. “I should be with you, but…”

  “I understand,” she whispered, kissing his ear. “You have more important things to do. When you’re finished, we will have a lot more time to spend together.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” he said. “And you deserve far better than me.”

  “I wouldn’t have anyone else for my mate,” she proclaimed, massaging his broad shoulders. “We were meant to be together.”

  “Maybe we were,” he agreed, as the pain rapidly fled at the soothing touch of her tender fingers. “By the way, thanks for your help earlier. We would still be hauling those panels if you hadn’t convinced the women to help.”

  “Donald?” she asked, hugging her knees to her chest. “Do you want to honeymoon again tonight?”

  “I’ve got to get some sleep,” he said wearily, standing and rounding the foot of the bed to the desk. Even his newfound nanite-enhanced endurance was taxed by the Herculean effort of the day’s la
bors. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do, and only a day to do it in. Will was exhausted, and it’s getting pretty cold; otherwise, I would still be out there. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Donald,” she said, smiling. “I’m pretty tired myself. At least with you here at my side, I’ll be able to sleep.”

  Picking up the communicator from the desk, he activated it and said, “Iva, wake me up in four hours so I can continue with the modifications.”

  “Roger, captain,” the agent’s voice responded. “Sleep well. Goodnight, Karen.”

  “Goodnight, Iva,” Karen said. “Pleasant dreams.”

  “I will have,” Iva assured. “Over and out.”

  “I’m going to wash up a bit,” Don said, pulling his soiled t-shirt over his head. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  Stretching out across the bed, Karen watched as he passed from her sight into the bathroom. Wearily, her eyes closed, and she drifted slowly into the land of dreams.

  She woke with a start at a sudden exclamation beside her.

  Throwing the covers aside, Don sprang from the bed and rushed to the desk.

  “Damn it, Iva,” he yelled into the communicator. “You were supposed to have awakened me two hours ago.”

  “I’m sorry, captain,” Iva responded, “but under the circumstances, I thought it best to let you sleep.”

  “What circumstances?” Don demanded.

  “An hour before I was to wake you, we were hit by another windstorm,” explained Iva. “It would be impossible to work outside under such conditions, even in an environment suit. I hope I wasn’t out of line in making that decision.”

  “No,” Don said more calmly. “You did the right thing. Just let me know as soon as the storm begins to let up.”

  “That was my intention,” Iva said. “There are still nearly two hours of darkness left; why don’t you try to get some more rest. You have a hard day ahead of you once the storm ceases.”

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Iva,” Don apologized.

  “It is quite understandable,” assured the agent. “You have the weight of the world resting upon your shoulders. That is a lot of responsibility for any man to bear without showing some sign of the pressure. I understand how you humans work.”

  From her tone, Don was certain that Iva was smirking at her last comment. “Thanks for putting up with us,” he said.

  “Don’t mention it,” she replied. “I was, after all, conditioned to serve you to the best of my abilities. I wouldn’t want to be accused of not doing my job. Iva out.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Don returned to the bed. “Don’t these wind storms ever let up for more than a couple of days?” he asked.

  “This is the stormy season,” Karen explained, propping herself up on one elbow. “Does this mean you won’t be able to repair the ship in time?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It depends on how long the storm lasts. The panels we found require a lot of difficult modifications. Even with Will’s help, it’s going slower than I had expected. It’ll probably take eight to ten hours to finish.”

  “I wish there were some way I could help,” she said regretfully. “But I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, reaching toward her and running his fingers through her silky hair. “If we don’t get the ship repaired in time to deflect the comet, I’ll think of something else. There are always alternatives; it’s just that sometimes they’re less obvious than others.”

  “Donald,” she asked, “what happens to a person after they die? Some of my people claim there’s life after death, but I’m not so sure.”

  “No one really knows,” he replied, sliding under the sheet and putting his arm around her. “But we’re not going to die for a long time; I promise. You know I never break a promise.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, drawing circular patterns on his chest with her finger. “Are you tired?”

  “Not really,” he answered, seeing a glint of light in her violet eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh,” she replied, rolling over so her body rested atop his, “I don’t know. Do you have any suggestions?”

  “One or two come to mind,” he said. “But I would rather not spend too much time discussing them. That storm could end at any minute.”

  CHAPTER 15: Change of Plan

  The storm subsided shortly after dawn, giving way to the blazing morning sun. Throughout the afternoon, Don and Will worked ceaselessly on the replacement panels.

  The sun slowly sank toward the horizon as the repairs were completed, casting long foreboding shadows over the ship. Wearily, the two men retreated to the vessel’s temperature controlled interior.

  “I thought we would never finish,” Will said, shaking the dirt from his hair as they waited for the decontamination process to complete its cycle. “Did we finish on time?”

  “By about nine hours,” Don replied. “The power cells still have to recharge before we can fly. We’ll make it, but it’s going to be close.”

  The inner lock slid aside and Karen stood beyond, holding two glasses. Jackie stood slightly behind her with her hands behind her back.

  “I thought you might be thirsty,” Karen said, extending the drinks toward them, “so I brought you some ice water.”

  “Thirsty isn’t the word for it,” Will said as the two men took a glass and greedily drank the refreshing liquid.

  “So, Don,” Jackie asked, sporting one of her snarky grins, “how did you manage to get the Tants and Underdwellers to work together out there?”

  “The Tants weren’t the problem,” he replied suspiciously, feeling like a fish about to strike a baited hook. “The Underdwellers were the ones who wouldn’t play nice. I just explained the gravity of the situation to them and they were quite reasonable about the whole thing.”

  “You gave them the Saint Crispin’s Day speech, didn’t you?” Jackie said mockingly. “He claims he hates that speech, but whenever he has to rally the troops, he breaks it out.”

  “There’s nothing more for us to do except wait,” Don said, refusing to be reeled in to her teasing. “Will, you can get cleaned up and get something to eat. I’ll go to the bridge and check with Iva to insure everything’s working properly.”

  “A long shower would feel pretty good about now,” the young lieutenant admitted. “That dust gets everywhere, even through a flight suit.”

  Jackie sidling forward and handed Don the data pad she had been concealing behind her back. Her grin grew wider as he took it from her.

  “What’s this?” asked the commander, reading the data on the device. “Disciplinary reports for both you and Porter?”

  “Ready to be signed and filed,” Jackie stated, taking Will by the arm and guiding him down the hallway. “Come on you dirty boy, I’ll help you get those hard to reach places.”

  Shaking his head, Don turned toward Karen, handed her the data pad, and led her after the two canoodling lieutenants. Will and Jackie ducked into Will’s quarters, while they continued toward the bridge.

  “‘Lewd and debaucherous conduct unbecoming an officer’?” Karen read. “What does that mean?”

  “Iva, Status report,” Don requested as they entered the bridge, ignoring the native woman’s question.

  “You’re not going to like it,” Iva responded. “The ship’s power level is increasing, but at a subnormal rate. The energy panels you found are apparently of an inferior design, requiring high intensity light radiation for proper operation. I estimate that in an hour, when the sun sets, they will no longer help us.”

  “Damn!” Don shouted, pulling away from Karen and crossing to his station. “What if we shut down all of the nonessential ship functions to conserve power?”

  “Negative,” the agent said. “The energy level still would be insufficient to deflect the comet in time. I’m afraid there is no way to avert the catastrophe. This planet is going to die just as the Overseer
said it would. Our only recourse is to leave before that happens.”

  “I won’t accept that,” Don shouted, slamming his glass down on the instrument panel in frustration. Several of the ice cubes bounced from it, sending fragments skittering across the metal deck. “There must be another way. The photon engines are powered by a matter-antimatter reaction, and are independent of ship’s power; that’s not the problem. The problem is that without the energy reserves, we lose navigational thruster control, plasma shields, weapons, artificial gravity, life-support, and other ship functions. What if we shut down all non-essential systems and idle the engines to replenish the energy reserves?”

  “By shutting everything down and idling the engines,” Iva replied, “I estimate we would have minimal power to lift off and break orbit in nine hours, which is our deadline to deflect the comet. The two-hour journey there would put us past the deadline and drain our power reserve to the point where we would be unable to affect the comet once we reached it.”

  “What if we travel on minimum life support without shields, stabilizers, and gravity?” he suggested.

  “Negative,” replied Iva. “That would be unadvisable. Aside from the crew being subjected to harmful cosmic radiation, the comet is preceded by many smaller meteoroid fragments, which would make travel without shields extremely hazardous. If the hull were penetrated at minimal life support, the crew would likely be dead before it could repair itself. We would save some energy, but still not enough to deflect the comet. The additional risks are not worth the benefit.”

  Don slumped in the chair, silently contemplating the situation. Many times before, he had been in life-threatening predicaments with no apparent solution; yet, he had always found an alternative to death. He had to find one this time. Too many lives were at stake not to.

  “Donald,” Karen said, kneeling next to him and placing her hand upon his forearm, “don’t feel bad. You’ve done all you can. You tried to help us. You said it yourself; all anyone can do is try. I’m not afraid to die. The time we’ve spent together has made my life worth living.”