by Anson, Mark
‘Captain, would you come here.’ Wilson’s voice was urgent.
Clare moved across to where Wilson and Bergman stood, hunched over the mine management system. Wilson stabbed a finger at the display:
CREW SHUTTLE 5, SILO 2
CONDITION: PRELAUNCH CHECKOUT
‘Holy shit,’ Clare breathed, ‘can we find out more?’
‘That’s all we can see from here,’ Wilson said, ‘it’s probably the last reported condition of the crew shuttle, but we’ve got to check it out. And it means there’s power to the silos, or we wouldn’t be getting a status indication.’
‘How many people can they carry?’ Bergman asked.
‘Twelve passengers, plus two crew. If it’s still fuelled after all this time, it’s got more than enough delta-vee to get us up to orbit and dock with the tug.’ Wilson looked round, and found himself facing the whole group; they were all standing behind him, staring at the screen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They spent over an hour in the control centre, trying to figure out what was still working in the mine. The management computer was working well enough for them to query the status of most of the mine’s systems, but very little else.
With their immediate priorities – air, water and food – met for the moment, they turned their attention to how to get a message back to Earth. Clare hardly dared hope that the shuttlecraft in the silo could be used to make their escape, and played down the possibility, at least until she and Wilson had checked it out. Until then, they had to keep focused on getting a message out.
None of the communications systems worked; from what they had seen of the damage to the racks in the comms room, they had been deliberately sabotaged. One better piece of news was that there was still power to the transmitter units, on top of the mountain. Wilson thought that it might be possible to cannibalise parts from one of the field radios, hook it up to one of the transmitters, and use it to get a message to Earth, but it would need a trip up to the main antenna arrays to try it out.
With this in mind, they switched on the transmitter units. They couldn’t send or receive anything until they tried Wilson’s plan, but the beacon signal might be picked up from Earth.
Power was a different matter. The main reactor had shut down when the explosion occurred, and they couldn’t restart it; the computer wouldn’t let them anywhere near the startup sequence without the right access codes. All they had was the power provided by the solar power array, up in the permanent sunlight on the mountain peak.
The power levels were way down, however, and it didn’t take long to find out why; the array had jammed somehow and wasn’t following the Sun in its slow journey around the pole. The array would have to be freed somehow and repointed at the Sun, and that would mean a trip up the mountain.
In the meantime, the solar arrays were providing enough power for essential systems, including the hoist motors, but Matt and Bergman couldn’t get any of the main lighting working, as hard as they tried. The emergency lighting circuits seemed to be working, however, and their world shifted into monochrome as the lights came on, bathing the control centre with a nightmarish red glare and stark, black shadows.
Gradually, a plan emerged by consensus, to make best use of their skills, and the assets that they had.
Clare and Wilson were to investigate the shuttlecraft, and see if it could be made flightworthy. This involved a trip out under the crater floor, to the crew shuttle silos.
Elliott and Abrams would go up to the mountain peak and attempt to make contact with Earth using a modified radio. Matt and Bergman would go with them part of the way, to guide them to a service raise that would bring them out high on the mountainside. From there, a winding path led up to the peak. Clare drafted the text of the message to send back to Earth, which would get the attention they needed. After some debate, they decided to avoid mention of any mutiny, and stuck to a more basic distress call.
That left Matt and Bergman, and the task that nobody wanted: to investigate the last known location of the mine personnel, deep down in the mine. With the hoist motors operational, Matt was confident that they should be able to get down and back again. Nobody knew what to hope for, or to expect, but any chance of finding survivors, however remote, had to be investigated.
The possibility of a mutiny had grown more compelling with every step they had taken into the mine, but it was puzzling that they had not encountered any survivors, if this was the case. The accommodation levels were the logical place to set up a base after a mutiny, but the place was deserted.
Talk of survivors made them glance at the empty gun locker, and the scattered cartridge cases on the floor. If there were any mutineers left alive, they could be armed, and the mission team had no means of defending themselves.
It was after 22:00, and Clare ordered that they get something to eat and try to get a night’s rest, before going any further.
They set up their sleeping quarters on the first level of the accommodation block, above the galley level, and took six relatively undisturbed rooms off the main corridor to sleep in.
Although it went against their instincts to plunder the effects of the mine personnel, practicality won, and they swapped their bulky spacesuits for clothes that they raided from wardrobes in various rooms, until they each had a set that fitted them well enough. They were mostly the dark blue standard-issue mine overalls, with insulated jackets that they could put over the top, but Clare managed to find some jeans and a sheepskin-lined leather jacket that fitted her better.
To everyone’s surprise, Wilson and Bergman managed to cook a hot meal, using some pasta and containers of sauce that they found in the kitchen cupboards. The six of them sat down in the dishevelled galley and ate their first real meal, out of serving pans, by the red glow of the emergency lights. Afterwards, they sat and looked out over the spectacular view outside, and ate some of the chocolate bars from the emergency ration packs.
It seemed a feast, and when they were finished, the weariness descended. They hadn’t stopped moving since the crash, and it was nearly midnight on the same day they had fired the big nuclear engine on the space tug to brake them into an orbit round Mercury. It seemed an age ago, and in a different world.
As the adrenaline levels fell in their bloodstreams, the need for sleep became overpowering. Heads nodded.
Clare pushed back her chair, and stood up.
‘It’s time we all got back up to our rooms. I’ll take the first watch. Matt – are you up to the second? Steve’s beat.’ She inclined her head to where Wilson sat, eyes closed, head forward on his chest.
‘Sure.’ Matt nodded. He could have done with the extra sleep, but what the hell.
Clare led the way back upstairs to the living quarters, and set up a chair in the red-lit corridor outside the apartments, as the rest of them bedded down for the night. At Clare’s insistence, they kept all the doors open, in case they needed to be woken in a hurry.
It didn’t take long before they fell silent, and Clare was left alone. It was deathly quiet in the mine, and the loudest sound seemed to be the thump of the pulse in her ears.
In her imagination, the huge, empty mine began to crawl with unknown terrors, shapeless things that climbed slowly up the deep shafts, hungry for their blood. She could hear them, sliding stealthily over the rough-hewn floors of the mine workings, coming up the stairs to the living quarters.
She forced herself to calm down, to focus. The mine was deserted; it always had been. She couldn’t afford to lose it; none of them could.
She rubbed her knuckles into her eyes.
From the open doorway nearest her, she could just make out the faint sounds of Matt’s breathing.
PART IV
The Haunted Mine
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
A skull whispered at Clare’s ear, and she woke with a start, her silent scream of fear echoing around her mind.
Matt was standing over her, his hand on her arm. She was slumped in the seat, a
nd her neck muscles ached.
‘Shit,’ she muttered, ‘what time is it?’
‘Nearly five a.m.’ He put his hand up to forestall Clare’s instinctive reaction. ‘Don’t worry, I slept right through the alarm as well. Nobody bad came to get us in the night. You go get some more sleep, I’ll finish the watch.’
Clare stood up, rubbing the stiff muscles at the side of her neck.
‘Don’t tell the others about this, okay? We can’t afford to get sloppy.’
‘It never happened,’ Matt said.
Clare went back to her room, and flung herself down on the bed. She closed her eyes, expecting sleep to come, but it didn’t; just a grey weariness in which every detail of the crash ran in front of her, again and again, and no matter what she did, the outcome was the same. The ship crashed into the dusty floor of the crater and exploded in silent flames, until, in her dreams, she just let go of the controls and watched the events unfold.
Matt woke everyone three hours later.
There was no heating for the showers in their bathrooms, and the water was icy cold, but none of them were prepared to go for another day without getting clean, and they were determined to make the best of their situation.
Matt puffed and shivered as he washed himself down, the cold water running over his skin. He reminded himself that the alternative could have been moist towels in the habitat modules, and he forced himself to stand under the spray of cold water, counting the seconds, until a full minute had gone by.
It could be worse – a lot worse, he thought, as he toweled himself down. He felt clean and refreshed, ready to tackle whatever the mine had to throw at them, as he went downstairs to the galley.
The search last night had found more dried ingredients, still fresh in their sealed packs, and a little later, all six of them sat down to an improvised breakfast of hot oatmeal and mugs of coffee.
Their spirits rose as they sipped the steaming liquid, and talk centred on whether the shuttlecraft could get them back up to the waiting space tug, and when they would be able to make contact with Earth. Clare let the talk flow; she didn’t voice her private concerns about what condition the shuttle would be in after nine years, or what the chances were of getting the transmitter to work.
Eventually, however, during a gap in the conversation, Clare knocked her mug on the table for attention.
‘Okay, guys, listen up. We’ve got a lot to do today, and the sooner we get going, the sooner we find out if we can get off this rock.’
She looked round the table.
‘We’ve already decided to split into three teams, so let’s review what each team needs, and make a plan. Team Radio – that’s Peter and Dr Elliott. Your primary mission is to modify one of the field radios, take it up to the transmitter arrays, and try to get a message through to Earth, or anyone else that can hear you. Your secondary mission is to realign the solar array to face the Sun, to give us some more power. You’ll need to take surface spacesuits, and some spare air cylinders.’
‘What about Bob Five?’ Elliott asked, ‘We might need him to turn the antenna and the solar arrays if they’re jammed.’
‘Good idea. Anyone else think they might need the robot for anything?’
Bergman looked at Matt, who just shrugged.
‘No takers? Okay, Team Radio gets the robot.
‘Second team – Team Silo. That’s Steve and myself. We go down a level, and out along the main return airway to the shuttle silos. Our mission is to locate Crew Shuttle Five, figure out if there’s any fuel left, and if it can be prepped for flight.’
‘We’ll divert as much power as we can to the silo systems, before we go,’ Bergman said.
‘Good. Now for yourself and Matt. You’re the Deep Team. Your primary mission is to get Team Radio to the service raise. Once they’re safely on their way, you’re to continue the search of the mine downwards, towards the last known location of the mine personnel, and report what you find.’
She paused.
‘Be careful. We don’t know what you’ll find down there, but if there are survivors of a mutiny, they could be hostile, and armed. If you find any evidence of life down there, don’t make contact; just get back to the rendezvous point, which will be the control centre.
‘Speaking of which, we all rendezvous back at the control centre at twenty hundred hours, whatever happens. I don’t want anyone spending the night in the mine workings; we’ve got plenty of time to carry on tomorrow.
‘Everybody clear? Okay. Peter, Dr Elliott – I want you to go back to the stores area and find two surface spacesuits that fit you, and some air cylinders. Steve and I will bring back one of the field radios, some more air cylinders, and some working comlink handsets if we can find them – we could do with some communications. Rick, Matt – do what you can to get more power to the silo systems and the transmitters. I want everyone back here in an hour, and we’ll tackle the radio modifications and assemble all the other kit we need. Okay, let’s move it.’
Two hours later, in the red-lit gloom of the lower elevator lobby, the silence of the mine was broken by the sounds of approaching footsteps on the fire stairs.
The robot waited, apparently lifeless, where they had left it the day before. As the noise of footsteps became louder, however, its eyes flickered back to life, and its internal systems powered up. Its head swivelled to watch Clare and the others emerge from the fire doors, lugging a heap of equipment with them.
‘Bob Five!’ Clare said, ‘can you carry these?’ She indicated the air cylinders, which Bergman, Abrams and Elliott were carrying by the valves.
‘YES, MISTRESS,’ the robot responded. It swung its arms together into a scoop, and waited as they loaded the six cylinders. The robot’s hydraulic arms, built to manhandle heavy mining equipment, didn’t move a millimetre as the cylinders clanked in.
‘Okay, I think we’re ready to split up,’ Clare said. She had a small backpack with food and drink, and one of the comlink handsets that she and Wilson had found in the stores. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s eleven oh seven. We check in at twelve hundred hours, then every hour after that.
‘The comlink network is only partially working, so if you’re out of coverage, leave a message to send when you’re back in coverage again. If we haven’t heard from you for three successive check ins, we’re going to come looking, so don’t forget. Everyone clear on that?’
There was a murmur of assent.
‘Okay, everyone, good luck.’
Clare and Wilson turned away and went back through the fire doors, heading down the stairs to the level below, and the airway that led out under the crater floor to the shuttle silos.
Their footsteps disappeared into the silence of the stairwell.
‘Right, now for Team Radio,’ Bergman said, breaking the silence. ‘Bob Five! Follow us.’ The robot, carrying its load of air cylinders, swung into step behind Abrams, Matt and Elliott as they followed Bergman. He took them down the access way that opened directly in front of them, heading further into the mountain.
Nobody spoke for a while; the only sounds were the thump and scuff of their footsteps on the rock floor, and the steady, deep thud of the robot bringing up the rear.
Abrams and Elliott were both dressed in surface spacesuits; these were much more substantial than the lightweight escape suits they had worn for the landing, and had large backpacks for air cylinders and the environmental control systems, as well as comlinks built into the wrist consoles. They carried the suit helmets on slings, attached to their chests.
Matt and Bergman’s rucksacks contained the modified radio, and the lengths of cable and tools that would be needed to complete the linkup. Making the changes to the radio to allow it to work with the main transmitter had been tricky enough, but they all knew that the hard part would be when Elliott and Abrams got up there, to the antennas, and had to make the complex connections with spacesuited fingers. With that in mind, they had assembled an assortment of link cables and adapters, with
a selection of connectors on their ends, to make the task easier. Elliott had some experience with communications equipment, and Wilson had briefed him carefully on what he would need to do.
They walked on, their flashlight beams piercing the darkness of the passage. Every 25 metres or so, a red emergency light burned overhead, but they did little to illuminate the dark stretches in between.
After about two hundred metres, they halted at a set of emergency pressure doors; two sliding sections in a metal frame that, when closed, would seal this section off. The red-painted doors were wide apart, and opened onto a wider passage that joined from the right.
‘Shouldn’t these be closed, if there was a pressure failure?’ Bergman said, ‘I thought they were automatic?’
‘They are,’ said a voice, and it wasn’t Matt, but Elliott. He sounded puzzled. ‘These should be closed. Even if they didn’t close automatically for some reason, the controllers had plenty of time to shut them with an emergency override.’ His gaze switched to the door control panel.
‘There’ll be time to investigate this when we’ve completed our mission,’ Bergman said, forestalling Elliott’s question. ‘Let’s just note it for now. Where are we, Matt?’
‘Uh, return air shunt from the accommodation levels. The spent air flowed through here, and joined the main air supply for the mine.’ Matt indicated the wider passage ahead.
Bergman led the way forward, through the open pressure doors into the larger passage, and the other followed. A faint breeze stirred their faces, coming from their right.
‘What’s up there?’ asked Elliott, swinging his flashlight beam into the darkness, in the direction the air was coming from. The light illuminated several No Entry signs.
‘Main ventilation fans.’ Matt said, ‘We don’t want to go up there. There are passages and shafts for balancing the airflow, and you won’t see them until you fall in. We need to go left, into the mine itself.’
They followed Bergman down the passage. It was five metres wide and three high, with a set of rail tracks near the right-hand wall for materials haulage. Heavy-duty power cables, and pipes carrying water and compressed air, ran along the walls on both sides.
