Fable Hill
Page 28
“Mia? Can you hear me?” Frank asked softly. He had already come to terms with her death.
Returning from the dead, Mia’s eyes revealed blotchy white irises. They looked as if the explosion had been captured for eternity inside each eye. Her beautiful amber eyes were a thing of the past.
“Oh . . . Frank . . .” she quivered pitifully.
“Shhh . . .” Frank gently caressed her peeling face. Tears fell to the floor.
“Frank . . .” Mia repeated again and again. “Frank, kill me, please.” She bawled painfully, without tears.
“What?” Frank asked. “I’m not going to kill you, Mia.”
“I don’t want to live anymore, in this hell,” she continued, but Frank embraced her close to his chest plate.
“We’re going to get out of here. I’m taking us to the Yamada. We will leave this godforsaken place.” Frank rocked back and forth, holding her in his arms like a wounded soldier.
Frank fastened himself into the pilot’s chair and ran a check of all flight systems. Fuel levels were at forty-five percent, not meeting the sixty percent requirement to reach the Yamada. Frank’s heart sank. He quickly brainstormed a backup plan. Only one option remained: rendezvous with the Chinese base, somewhere far to the south.
They might be kind enough to offer us transport, he thought. “First, I have to go down to Ōme.” Or what’s left of it.
“I have to look for survivors and retrieve the rest of Alexei’s data. Coordinates for the Chinese base might be down there as well,” Frank spoke to himself. He did not want to venture back onto the planum but had no other choice. “The world has to know about this!” He slammed his fist against the armrest of the pilot’s chair.
Mia sat still in her chair. She hung her head solemnly, tears streaming down her face, pooling below the chin. Frank grasped Mia’s hand and squeezed. “Mia, I’m going to leave you for a bit. I will be right back.” Frank raised his voice. “I’m setting a timer. If I don’t return by the time this watch timer rings, press this button!” Frank guided her hand over to the main control panel. “This will launch the capsule towards the Yamada,” Frank said before depressurizing the capsule and departing. He knew the capsule wouldn’t make it to the Yamada, but without knowing the location of the Chinese base, they were both dead anyway.
Once outside, Frank failed to locate Ōme as it was still shrouded in irradiated dust. He knew the general location of the settlement, however, and set off in haste. The Martian subzero temperatures had cooled the nuclear fireball considerably. However, the reduced gravity and pressure and the lack of weather kept the effects of the blast from dissipating completely. The umbrella-shaped nuclear cloud and subsequent after effects remained frozen in time.
Frank admired the scenes as his tiny body disappeared inside the dust cloud once again. Frank’s suit systems slowly came back online as he trudged over dunes and tripped over rocks. He purposely avoided ground zero, opting to travel in a wide, long arc. This decision would cost him nearly ninety minutes of travel time.
Just as Frank seemed lost, his HUD came back online, illuminating Ōme Station’s location.
Frank made it to where the outer sensors once were but no longer remained, no doubt blown away by the shock wave or incinerated in the blast. The ground was smooth in some areas. Frank knelt down and saw newly-formed streaks of glass, undoubtedly created during the blast from melted silicates.
Frank was surprised to see the majority of the settlement buildings were still intact. Black smoke billowed out of the atrium from a giant breach in the dome. Frank peered inside the habitat to see a sea of smoke swirling inside like a fish bowl.
No visible signs of Roland or Keiko were found. Frank searched high and low for their bodies. The MEV stood for the most part intact, its windows blown out and batteries destroyed from the electromagnetic pulse. Alexei’s workshop had also been blown apart, its debris scattered about the grounds.
Frank suddenly became afraid, fearing the reactor would surely be in meltdown. “Gotta make this quick, come on, Frank.”
He searched the littered debris field where Alexei’s workshop once stood. The steel support beams still remained intact as a skeleton framework. Sifting through the remains, Frank collected many half-burnt notebooks and papers with alien-looking formulas and equations.
Still without the coordinates of the Chinese base, Frank turned his attention to the habitat. He simply walked through a melted portion of the composite wall. Surrounded by smoke, visibility was limited. Luckily, his HUD provided a blueprint for navigation inside the once-beautiful Ōme Station.
Reaching the control room, Frank forced the automatic door open and quickly shut it behind him, blocking a majority of the smoke from entering. The inside was charred black, most likely from the station’s atmosphere igniting in the flash. The control room proved just as useless as Alexei’s workshop, with nothing of salvageable value.
Frank made one last stop to his quarters. Upon entering through the door, he found himself right back outside. So much for that idea, Frank lamented. Bits of ash from charred plant matter scattered in the wind, rising high in the drab sky.
The internal clock in Frank’s suit warned him he was running out of time as the clock passed 1600 hours. Night would soon be upon him, and with it colder temperatures. Frank took one last look at the place he called home for over three hundred sols. He gave a final salute and departed, never to return again.
Chapter 33
1617 hours, Sol 311
Anatoli Planum
Earth Date: March 11, 2046
“Fran— d– you —ead?” came a chopped-up female voice through Frank's comm-link. It was heavily modulated and caused Frank to stop in his tracks.
“Frank, do you read?” the voice transmitted much clearer.
“I read you loud and clear. Keiko?” Frank questioned anxiously amongst a shower of silicates. The nuclear fallout had begun.
“Negativ— t— Amirah, over.”
“Amirah? I read you, Amirah,” Frank said, trying his best to elicit more responses.
“Sensor Post 22c—” Amirah's voice said as she cut out once again.
Frank remembered the location of the sensor. It was located to the southwest. Frank made the tough decision to rendezvous with the sensor as his timer was running out with Mia.
Sensor Post 22c was, for the most part, untouched by the effects of the nuclear detonation. Inside the signpost-sized tower, Frank connected with the sensor array’s local network.
“Amirah? Amirah?” Frank transmitted.
“I can hear you, Frank. I am glad you are alive,” she replied.
“I don't have much time, do you have the coordinates to the Chinese base?” Frank asked impatiently.
After a painstaking delay, Amirah finally uploaded the grid coordinates to Frank's suit’s computer.
“Thank you, Amirah, thank you. Is there anything I can do? Can I take you with me?” Frank asked.
“Negative, this is my final sub-routine. Once this sensor loses power, I will be shut down for good,” Amirah replied. Frank couldn't help but feel sorrow for the loss of his AI friend. He felt conflicting feelings, as the pain of losing Keiko and Roland had not yet hit.
“Go, Frank. Go.” Amirah gave her final order to a sentient being. “I will attempt to make contact with the Yamada, te—t— pre— arrival.” Her voice cut out forever.
With the grid coordinates downloaded, Frank surged with adrenaline and a need to get out alive. He headed back to the Sakura capsule with a mission: get Mia and himself back to the Yamada by any means necessary.
The sun had set by the time Frank reached the Sakura capsule. He was severely dehydrated and starved. As he entered the capsule, Mia was unmoved, still in the same spot that he left her. The timer’s alarm beeped but Mia had ignored it. Frank removed his helmet and chugged a liter of emergency ration water. He shook Mia a bit to make sure she was still alive and imput the grid coordinate into the flight computer.
“Not a big deal. No problem at all. I'll just go as high as I can and air brake in with drogue parachutes,” Frank planned. He knew deep down that the parachutes would not slow re-entry enough for a safe landing. Frank scanned through his available fuel levels again. Hydrazine was at eighty percent, minus sixty percent for station-keeping. “Maybe I could vector down with hydrazine. Twenty percent of hydrazine will last me five, six seconds, maybe,” Frank said to himself.
An alarm rang inside the capsule's crew cabin. Outside ground and air temperatures were reaching critical levels and risked freezing the capsule’s wiring. Frank knew he couldn't waste any more time deliberating. They had to leave now.
“Air brake, parachute, hydrazine thrust at the final couple thousand feet,” Frank repeated to himself as he set the flight level and ran through final checks.
“Air brake, parachute, hydrazine thrust . . . deploy landing gear?” he said, offering himself options as Frank debated Frank. “Oh, fuck it!” Frank shouted at the console. “Hang on, Mia, here we go.”
The Sakura took off without a hitch. The familiar G-forces pressed against the two astronauts as the capsule went supersonic. The ground disappeared into darkness, but gave way to a sliver of light as they caught up with the retreating sun cresting the planet. The capsule adjusted trajectory upon entering the upper atmosphere. The altimeter read 115 kilometers.
Frank ran the capsule hard, draining every last drop of fuel, reaching an altitude of two hundred kilometers before the main engine sputtered and cut out for good. Weightlessness took over as gravity pulled the capsule back in towards Mars. Frank carefully steered the capsule into position, using small millisecond bursts of hydrazine to correct the crafts heading.
“So far so good,” Frank said. He watched as Mia clung onto her stomach and barfed inside the cab. Droplets of yellow bile floated past Frank's face. He put his helmet back on without a second thought.
After free falling for ninety minutes, the Sakura capsule made its final descent through the thin atmosphere. It picked up immense speed as its heat shield caught friction and began to warm. Frank deployed air flaps to increase drag on the capsule. Once inside the lower atmosphere, the triad parachute deployed and cut their velocity by half.
Rear cameras revealed unfamiliar landscapes of giant crags, deep canyons, and splintered buttes. Frank watched the altimeter religiously, waiting for just the right time to fire thrusters. At roughly 5,500 feet, all four hydrazine vents unloaded for nearly 6.8 seconds, decreasing speed again by half.
“Brace for impact!” Frank shouted. In a last ditch effort, Frank reversed the capsule’s flaps, turning them into slats to increase lift. The capsule leveled out and fell into a canyon, licking the very edge of a butte, shedding some panels in the process. Frank could feel the air resistance as he tried to buy a few more seconds to decrease speed. The capsule hit the ground with force, jerking Frank and Mia forward. Sliding across the canyon floor, deep sand slowed the capsule to a complete stop just before a wall of solid rock.
Alarms rang out inside the capsule as Frank unbuckled himself to put out a fire underneath the floor compartment. His neck muscles ached from whiplash and he was forced to sit back down, fire extinguishing agent covering the capsule.
“You did it, Frank,” Mia congratulated meekly. “Thank you.”
Frank rubbed his neck in pain as he deactivated the last of the alarms. He checked capsule integrity—no leaks, everything looked good. They were alive.
“How far are we from the Chinese?” Mia asked.
“SPS says eighty-five kilometers. We flew right over them, though, so they had to have seen us crash land,” Frank replied.
“So, now we wait?”
“Now we wait.”
•••
Frank awoke from sleep to the sound of metallic tapping on the main hatch of the Sakura capsule. It was morning and rays of sunshine cast through the viewport directly onto Frank's face. He shot up with a jolt, his pistol at the ready. MRE packets scattered the side wall of the capsule, now the floor.
“Are you ready?” Frank asked. Mia awoke with a yawn. Still blind, she felt around for her helmet and fastened it securely.
“I'm ready,” she said over comms.
The airlock hissed and depressurized. Frank could feel the warmth against his suit as the sun temporarily blocked his vision. The automatic tint seemed to not work anymore. Frank used his hand to shield himself.
An arm reached inside the capsule and grabbed Frank, followed by a second and a third. Like a sack of potatoes, he was pulled from the tipped over capsule and set carefully on the ground, Mia not far behind.
Frank regained his vision. He could see three white spacesuits, Chinese regalia decorating each arm. They were older suits, with domed helmets and bulky life support packs.
The Chinese astronauts searched Frank thoroughly. Finding his pistol, they kept it for themselves. Systematically, the capsule was stripped of its electronics and supplies. Two open-air, four-seat dune buggies drove up next to the capsule.
Mia and Frank were put into separate vehicles for transport. There were four astronauts in total and they seemed to bicker back and forth about the current situation; their hand and arm movements gave it away. Frank reassured Mia over radio, directing her to remain calm. It was now that Frank felt oddly like a prisoner of war. He felt small and insignificant. The foreign astronauts loaded up into the two dune buggy rovers and sped away with their prize.
“Damn, these things are fast,” Frank commented to Mia. The two buggies reached jarring speeds of a hundred kilometers per hour over open terrain. They regularly hit dips with great speed, sending the buggies into the air and landing with smooth grace. Frank admired the fantastic suspension on each vehicle.
Frank tried his best to enjoy the trip. The southern latitudes were much warmer. Suit thermometers read a balmy 12°C. He could feel the heat pressed up against his suit, something he had not felt since Syrtis Major.
The Chinese base hugged the edge of a mesa and was surprisingly spartan. Eight inflatable modules pressed up against a single main cubicle structure. A rover or two could be seen lingering about the settlement or going in and out of a connecting mine.
In the foreground, Frank could see the signature markings of a Nagoya sounding rocket, its payload disconnected and on the back of a trailer. Frank described what he was seeing to Mia in detail, even the location of the Nagoya rocket.
Ushered inside, Frank and Mia were peculiarly bound with plastic zip ties. It struck Frank as slightly odd. With helmets removed and under a breathable atmosphere, they were led to a kitchen area and seated.
“English?” Frank asked his now captors. “Anyone speak English?” The Chinese astronauts went about their business as if Frank and Mia were not there, shutting them inside the small, dank kitchen module alone.
“I didn't think we'd be treated this way,” Mia stated, but Frank reassured her.
“It's standard procedure. We were at war not too long ago and I would have done the same. We will get out of here, I promise.”
Moments later, the door to the kitchen jarred and loud Mandarin rang out from the other side. Frank moved in his seat uncomfortably, wishing he knew what was being said. It reminded him of his time in survival, evasion, resistance, and escape training in the military. They taught pilots what to do in these kinds of situations.
The door swung open and two astronauts shuffled inside, a man and woman together. The man cleared his throat and sat down. The woman remained standing.
“Hello, my name is Han. This is Wen,” he introduced.
“My name is Frank and this is Mia,” Frank replied. “I would shake your hand but . . .” Frank attempted to raise his bound hands.
Han gave a nod to his comrade and she cut the zip ties from Frank’s and Mia's wrists. “Thank you,” Fra
nk said with genuine gratitude. The three shook hands, with Mia abstaining.
“What is wrong with her?” Han asked.
“She’s blind,” Frank responded.
“From . . . the accident?” Han asked, referring to the nuclear detonation at Ōme.
“Yes, how did you know that?” Frank asked.
“We felt . . . with our seismographs,” Han replied. “Our doctor is very good, he will take good look at your friend.”
“Thank you, we appreciate that very much,” Frank said with a big smile. Even Mia cracked a subtle smile.
“Do you know why we are here?” Frank asked next. Han gave a perplexed look towards Frank and consulted with Wen in Mandarin.
“Yes, of course. You wish to surrender,” Wen blurted.
Frank was taken aback at the comment and broke out into a nervous laugh. He looked towards Mia, but she was unfazed, her gaze towards the floor.
“I think there is a misunderstanding. We need transport to our ship. Our crew is mostly dead and we were betrayed by one of our own,” Frank stated. No reply came as Han and Wen looked on with intrigue. Frank became irritated.
“We need help getting to the Yamada, that way we can return to Earth?” Frank said condescendingly. “We will leave as soon as we are able. I will let Nagoya know about the aid and kindness you rendered us today.”
“Wait one moment, please,” Han said, leaving the room with Wen in tow.
Frank sat in a forward posture, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor and rubbing his face. His stomach growled and he had an intense thirst. A tiny fan oscillated in the corner, circulating the stale air.
The door to the room opened once again. This time Han was flanked by two more faces. They hauled a flat screen television inside and faced it towards Frank. Wen entered the room with a new pair of zip ties. She brandished a fully automatic AK-15 rifle, slung behind her back.