I sent an emergency report in calling MC001’s attention to our water supply issue. For those sixteen of us in armored spacesuits, we could go on for some months, but the general population of Nuwa—numbing one thousand four hundred eighty-four men, women, and children—did not have more than about ten days’ worth of drinkable water.
“Message from MC001. Situation understood.”
That was it. No suggestions, no offers of help, no compassion.
The brown and toxic rain continued for three days. That was far longer than the typical rain in Queen. If there was any good side to that brown junk pouring out from above, we did not have a single bombardment during that rain. Perhaps the rain itself was the Jellies’ newest way to bombard the town? Pools of toxic sludge were in the craters left from the prior bombardments, and that brown gunk soaked into everything. The underground bunkers were not even safe as some of those brown fluids found their way down through ventilation shafts, air exchangers, and any number of the multitude of cracks in the structures above.
Then, after the poison rain stopped, the air got foul. Again, this was not such a problem for those with armored spacesuits, with our self-contained atmospheres, and the suit’s air regenerations systems. However, the general population was struggling severely. Asthma, new-onset emphysema, and other respiratory problems were more than the two medical automacubes could handle. The youngest children and the elderly people suffered the most, but no one was immune. Well, except for those of us in the armored spacesuits. I sent in more requests for help, on every possible channel, including through the ordering process on the gravity conduit, but there was no reasonable reply. I just got back the same nonsense.
“Message from MC001. Situation understood.”
When the sky tube began flickering as dawn happened, I took action.
“MC001, this is Sergeant Kalju in Nuwa. I will be cutting into bulkhead door, 278665-U80, in the next hour unless we receive assistance,” I transmitted. I was in the transport tube hub. It had two sold doors on it. The one which led to the biome, and another, the one I threatened to cut open, which led into the shell around the habitat. I knew that beyond that egress door it was showing vacuum and no pressure, but I thought that by cutting that door open, the backlash or explosive decompression might be contained by the bulkhead door between the hub and the biome. I was unsure if my own armored spacesuit could tolerate and endure that uncontrolled decompression, but I hoped it would. What little I had for a plan was to use a vibration saw and cut open that door, then, if I survived the explosive decompression, and if the biome remained sealed, I planned to transverse through the vacuum and find a way to re-pressurize some corridors and evacuate the people into the shell. It was a wild guess whether it would work, but that was my plan. “I am serious about cutting this open, unless you can offer us a better plan of escape.”
“Message from MC001. Do not damage 278665-U80. An alternative route is being arranged. You will be contacted with further information.”
“I will cut the door open in one hour unless I hear a workable plan by then,” I responded.
“Message from MC001. Your insubordination has been reported.”
I laughed. Then I waited at that hub, and forty-three minutes later, a new voice came through my transceiver.
“Sergeant Kalju? This is Lieutenant Rita Gonzales. I have a route for your team to follow in leaving Queen,” she sounded young but I was relieved to hear her voice.
“I am ready. How do we get out of here?”
“Proceed to elevator T56Y-908 at this location,” Lieutenant Gonzales stated. A blinking light appeared on the deck plans on my popup display. “I can get that shaft cleared and your team can descend to my location. I am in Repository Q-93.”
“Understood. It will take me some time to get all the townsfolk to that spot.”
“What townsfolk? MC001 said there were sixteen combat troops needing extraction.” There was genuine surprise in her voice.
“There are about fifteen hundred people here in Nuwa, and they all need to get out. We are dying from toxic water, fouled air, and Jellie bombardments,” I stated. “We all are coming out.”
There was a pause, then a decisive tone was in this new officer’s voice. “Agreed. I assume none of the townsfolk have spacesuits, right?”
“Correct.”
Gonzales’ hesitated just a moment, “Get everyone to that elevator as soon as possible. I will make this work.”
Behind Gonzales’ voice, I heard the mechanical voice of MC001, but could not clearly discern what the AI was saying.
“Attention all Red Guard,” I said into the full broadcast system of my transceiver. “Everyone, and I mean everyone in Nuwa, must go to this location immediately. No exceptions, no excuses, no one left behind. This is our only chance to escape the Jellies. Use every means possible to spread the word. Hurry!”
I rushed up from that transport hub and emerged into the ruins of Nuwa. I switched on my external speakers and began broadcasting the instructions for people to move toward that elevator. It was located in what had been a supply warehouse, not far from the town’s center.
“What is happening?” someone asked me.
“We have a way out, but everyone must go now, and we really must hurry!”
He rushed off, yelling and calling on others.
Flashbacks in my mind were slamming my emotions around. I saw Foreigner, and my dead friends. But I shook them off and continued the job. I heard a Red Guard making broadcasts from a few streets over. She was giving accurate instructions about how to leave.
And so, the people gathered and moved toward that warehouse. I must give them credit, the townsfolk moved quickly and helped each other get there. I got there and saw the roof was caved in. At some point in the recent past one of the bombardments had collapsed that section of the roof, but the rear part of the warehouse was still mostly intact. On that rear wall, I saw the blue hand-shaped symbol of a freight elevator, and next to that was a nine-section color control pad. Pressing my hand on the symbol, the wall’s door opened, revealing a door, and I looked at the empty elevator car.
Using the command channel, I called out, “Lieutenant Gonzales? I am at the elevator shaft. I can start sending down groups. The elevator can hold fifty adults. Is the shaft clear?”
“The shaft is clear, but below sublevel two it is not pressurized, and the elevator is not airtight or sealed,” Lieutenant Gonzales replied. “Hold for a minute. I am working on the problem.”
I ordered the Red Guard who were showing up to head back out and make sure everyone was getting the message. Several of them balked at my command, but when I repeated it, they finally took off to obey.
“Sergeant Kalju? The elevator will take approximately ten minutes to reach the repository and about that same amount of time to return to your location. Time is an enemy in this battle. There is no way to make something like twenty trips back and forth to get everyone out,” Lieutenant Gonzales stated. “But I have a solution…”
She was interrupted by MC001, “Message from MC001. Combat troops are to evacuate immediately. No others are authorized to depart.”
“What? They will die if they stay here! We are getting everyone out of here!” I screamed at that artificial intelligence system “No one is left behind.”
“Kalju,” a Red Guard called to me, “the town has been swept, and all are here.”
“Confirmed!” another Red Guard stated. “What do we do?”
Not being on the command channel, the Red Guard had not heard my conversations with that AI, MC001, nor with Lieutenant Gonzales.
“I will get you out of here. Just give me a few moments!” I barked.
The crowd began murmuring and then calling out in fear.
“Sergeant Kalju, you must trust me,” Lieutenant Gonzales’s voice sounded confident. “My plan is…”
Again, she was interrupted. “Message from MC001. Biome personnel currently in Nuwa have a low probability for survi
val. The risk to Marathon Defense Forces is unacceptable. The mission by Lieutenant Gonzales should not be interrupted by any futile efforts. Combat forces are to evacuate now. Collateral damage acceptable.”
“Not to me!” Lieutenant Gonzales snarled. “Kalju, switch to communication frequency 14G.”
I made the switch on my transceiver, even though 14G was a tertiary communication link. It took me a bit of time to establish that link, but after a moment or two I did.
“…. of the townsfolk.”
“Please repeat! Lieutenant Gonzales, I did not hear all of that.”
She privately advised me, “I can only keep the shaft open and pressurized for about thirty minutes, that is THREE ZERO minutes. At that point it must be sealed again. To get all those people here at the repository will be dangerous, but we can rescue all the townsfolk. Send down the elevator with anyone who is injured, elderly or small children. My team is setting up inertia dampeners and I am adjusting the gravity manipulation inside this shaft. The air will be thin and cold, but they can all make it, shall I say, down to me. I have also locked MC001 out of our conversation.”
I had a weird feeling about what this never-before-met officer had in mind, but I had no alternative. Staying in Nuwa was a death sentence.
Turning on my external speakers, I called out, “Elderly people, mothers with children, and those with serious injuries get into the elevator now! Move!”
Sixty-eight people stuffed themselves into that elevator, despite the fact that it was listed as capable of carrying fifty adults. I did rough calculation on the weight and it was about the same, since a fair number of those in the elevator were children. I pressed the button for the level of the repository and away the elevator went.
Then I got blunt. “Are you suggesting the others all free-fall down that shaft? At terminal velocity?” I asked this new officer on that private channel. I suspected that was what she had in mind. I disliked using the word terminal.
“I like you Kalju, you are a bright one,” Lieutenant Gonzales replied. “Yes, but not a complete or uncontrolled free-fall. I am lowering gravity manipulation, and thinning the air. That should allow them to make the distance in time, taking the bends in the shaft without hitting the sides, and also survive the stop at the bottom. It is a fall, but a controlled fall. Have them drop in and they should reach the desired transit speed after about twenty second. Near the bottom, as they pass the last several levels, they will feel inertia dampening and altered gravity fields which will slow their descent to an acceptable rate. It will feel only like a meter drop at impact.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Check my mathematics, we have a few minutes until that elevator is here.” Figures lit up on my faceplate’s display. “It will be rough, no doubt about that, but I doubt anyone will die.”
I did as she suggested. The math looked good, certainly strange, but good. I agreed with her conjectures. “It looks doable, but those bends in the shaft will make it a scary fall.” I wondered if I could actually get the townsfolk to leap into an open elevator shaft?
Kaaa-vooomph!
The street just outside of the warehouse exploded. The Jellie bombardment had begun again. I hoped that was all the motivation the crowd needed. I stepped over and punched in an override code to the nearby nine-section color control pad. The elevator shaft’s doors slid open. The shaft was lit by amber emergency lighting.
Lieutenant Gonzales’ voice came to me through my helmet, “The elevator has arrived. The inertia dampeners and the gravity manipulation is activated. Send down the people! The clock is running. I cannot keep the shaft open longer than twenty-nine minutes from now. Move!”
I turned on my external speakers, “Everyone must jump into the shaft! The elevator shaft has been modified to allow you to all descend quickly to where we can escape!” I ordered and gestured at the same time.
One of the Red Guard came rushing up to me. He was using the transceiver as well as his external speakers, so everyone could hear him. “You are out of your mind, stupid foreigner! Why should anyone jump in that hole? We will just wait…”
I grabbed him, twisted, and kicked him in the stomach as hard as I could. I knew his armor would protect him from the kick, but it caught him by enough of a surprise that he fell into the shaft.
“We have to go now! No more waiting!” I turned to the other Red Guard who was standing nearby. “Will you help or do I kick you in next?” He and everyone around had seen what I did and heard my commands.
Kaaa-vooomph!
A building blew-up across the roadway from the warehouse. The bombardment was continuing. The crowd was silent, but then that new lieutenant’s voice came on my transceiver. I flipped a setting and it was projected out from my external speakers.
“The first soldier is here safely. He is fuming in anger, but unhurt. Not much time left!” Lieutenant Gonzales stated.
The nearest Red Guard nodded his helmet, and then I heard his voice, “Everybody needs to evacuate. This is our only chance.”
“I am not waiting here to die!” a teenager, who was probably not much younger—chronologically—than me cried out. She rushed forward, and several of her friends followed. They all yelled various things, many of them vulgarities, as they jumped feet-first into the shaft. I have never been as revoltingly cursed as I was at that moment. They were screaming as they fell, but not so much in terror as in a mix of other emotions, like anger and even elation. Well, maybe there was a lot of terror in their screams.
Then the Red Guard I had kicked called up, “These foreigners are right. The fall is safe! Come on and escape from Queen!”
The remaining Red Guard soldiers rushed to herd the people toward the elevator shaft. Nearly every face glared at me as they went past, but they went past and dropped into that shaft.
“People are landing safely. Keep them coming! Not much time!” Lieutenant Gonzales reported.
The warehouse was emptied faster than I expected, and I was left alone in that strange place.
Kaaa-vooomph!
The front half of the warehouse was demolished by a Jellie explosion. Dust was everywhere and debris was tumbling down from what was left of the building. And that was when I saw a tannish, sort-of golden colored dog come racing into the warehouse from out in the street. I have no idea where that dog had been hiding, but it looked forlorn and sad.
I flipped open my faceplate, and called out, “Come on Marie!” I had no idea why I called that dog that name. It looked nothing like the other Marie. The air was very foul, and dust-filled. There was also a burnt taste to the air.
That dog ran toward me and leaped up into my arms. It was a big dog, some mixed breed, and weight probably forty kilograms. I caught it in my arms, and it tried to lick my face inside my helmet. Its slobbery tongue did catch my eyebrow, where the scar is, and sort-of left a gooey mess on my face. I held on tight to that dog with one arm, flipped down my faceplate with the other and stepped over the edge on the elevator shaft.
“I am the last one, Lieutenant Gonzales. On my way!”
“Make it fast, I am closing down then shaft! We are losing seals!”
The fall was worse than I expected. It went fast. Level after level sped by me. Amber emergency lighting flashed as each deck was passed. It was sort-of like the strobes we used to keep the Jellies away, but with an element of being out of control in the fall. I was thankful for my armor, and sympathetic toward the people who did not have it. I was buffeted around by the gravity manipulation fields, and kept tight hold on the dog. That poor dog was whining constantly. I considered kicking in the suits own stabilizers, but was unsure how that would interfere with what Lieutenant Gonzales had set up.
I glanced down, and saw the bottom was coming at me quickly—or so it appeared—and it was frightening. Then inertia dampening hit me, and the gravity manipulation fields shifted. The last several decks went past more slowly, and I landed with only a hard thump. I did not even drop the dog.
&
nbsp; A solider in speckled gray and black camouflaged body armor, much more advanced than my armored spacesuit, grabbed onto me and pulled me inside. The dog rushed off and was lost in the crowd. I noted the emblem of a lieutenant on her shoulder. The door behind me snapped shut with a metallic clang. I glanced over and saw the huddled masses of the people. Many were clutching their stomachs, or down on their knees heaving. Scattered among them were other soldiers dressed like Lieutenant Gonzales. But there were countless stains of vomit on nearly everyone’s clothing, along with the deck, walls, and ceiling.
“Go! Go! Get us out of here!” Lieutenant Gonzales commanded. “Emergency blast away! Blow all the restraining bolts!”
Battle On The Marathon Page 40
