by Joe Horan
“Get this sorted out now,” said the officer, striding across. “The shuttle has to go or everyone will get left behind.”
“Go on,” said Shania, pushing the girl towards the shuttle. To the father she said, “When you get aboard find Chief Cartographer Nyassa and tell her what happened. I’m Shania Enterada.”
The Atumcarians weren’t happy, but one of the shuttle crew looked out and shouted, “We’re shutting the door in one minute.”
So it was decided. The family went ahead and Shania remained behind. She watched the shuttle as its thrusters fired, ran up to power and lifted into the air.
“What do I do now?” she asked the officer in charge.
“Now you have to reregister and get another departure slot, but that was a brave thing to do.”
The office was on the ground floor of the palace. She had to queue for about half an hour. When she got to the front the young woman behind the desk scanned her pass and said, “Missed the Starstrider? Yes, I heard she had life support problems. Your new ship is Galaxy Queen. She’s sixteen hours away. Your slot is main-gate departure point, three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”
So she had one more night in her old flat. She climbed the stairs with difficulty; she had been standing for far too long and her legs were agony; she could barely control the pain. There was some bread and cheese in the cupboard so she had that for supper and lay down to wait for the pain to abate and the time to pass.
She was back at the departure point at two the following afternoon. It was raining hard and blowing a gale. She had a reasonably waterproof cape, but water was trickling down her neck. Her legs were hurting already and she suspected she still had a lot of standing to do.
The Atumcarians were very efficient at running things like this. Promptly at three her assigned shuttle touched down. The lines started to move forward. A young female officer scanned her pass.
“Jaycee Flandsten?” she said.
“No, Shania Enterada.”
“Are you twelve years old?”
“No, I’m twenty-two.”
“We’ve got a jumper here!” she shouted.
Suddenly two men were alongside her. They pulled her out of the line. She nearly fell; her legs were hurting like hell and trembling from tiredness. She was struggling to control the pain.
“None of that,” one of them said. “We’ve caught you and now you have to explain yourself.”
They took her to a steel cabin the Atumcarians had brought down from orbit so they could use it as an office. She was sat down in a chair and to her astonishment and embarrassment her hands were pulled back behind her and handcuffed through the frame of the chair. The men went out and she was left alone.
Time passed. The only sound was the rain drumming on the roof of the cabin until she heard the roar of thrusters as the shuttle took off. She gradually got control of the pain in her knees. A few minutes later she heard the sound of the next shuttle arriving. What have I done to be treated like this?
The door opened and a woman came in. She wore a black tunic with some sort of red motif on the sleeves. She sat behind a desk and picked up a data pad.
“I am Lieutenant Gann of the Military Police,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Shania Enterada of Clan Lindus, cartographer,” she answered.
The woman made an entry on the data pad and looked at what came up.
“Shania Enterada left yesterday morning on the Starstrider,” she said. “Who are you and what did you do to Jaycee Flandsten?”
My badge! The girl I swapped badges with must have been Jaycee Flandsten.
She explained this to the woman.
“Are you telling me you gave away a green badge?” asked Lieutenant Gann incredulously.
“Yes.”
“I’ve dealt with a number of emergency evacuations and based on my experience let me tell you what I think happened. You murdered a twelve-year-old girl to get her place on an evacuation ship.”
Shania stared at her. She was so shocked by the accusation she couldn’t think of anything to say.
“We probably won’t be able to prove it,” continued Lieutenant Gann, “but you will be held in detention and if there is any space left at the end of the evacuation then, and only then, will you be put on an evacuation ship.”
“I’m a cartographer,” said Shania.
Lieutenant Gann moved round behind her and undid her handcuffs.
“Stand up,” she said.
Shania got to her feet with difficulty. Her legs were hurting so much now that despite her efforts to control the pain they could hardly support her.
“Whatever you are, a cartographer you are not,” said Lieutenant Gann. “You can barely stand.”
“I’m a mathematician. I work in the Institute.”
“So you’re a mathematician now. Well I think you are a murderer. If we were under Atumcarian jurisdiction I’d have you summarily executed. As we’re not you can rot in detention until this planet dies.”
Half an hour later two men in black tunics arrived. They took her back into the city and locked her in a small storeroom at one end of the building the Atumcarians were using as a billet. She couldn’t help it; she started to cry.
Prince Joaquin rapped on the door. After a moment it slid back and Lieutenant Hanticova looked out. She was a twenty-something woman with short blonde hair who served as liaison with the Ochiran head of state.
“What can I do for you, your highness?” she asked.
“Two things. Firstly, this woman is Chief Cartographer Nyassa. She holds an important office among our people, so when she asks to see the captain we do not expect a door to be slammed in her face.”
“I am sorry, your highness. I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Secondly, one of her people was left behind, a cartographer by the name of Shania Enterada. She swapped badges with a young girl to enable her to stay with her family. We would like you to make certain she has safely embarked on another ship.”
“I am sure she did so. She simply had to re-register…”
“Nevertheless, it would put my mind at rest if you could make certain,” said Nyassa. “She is not physically strong.”
“Of course. I will have a message sent as soon as we are in range of a relay.”
“Thank you,” said Nyassa.
“Just one thing, your highness,” said Lieutenant Hanticova. “Why would she give away a green badge?”
“You don’t know us yet,” said Prince Joaquin. “When you do you will understand. It is written in our law: Always help those who need help; protect those who cannot protect themselves. She saw someone in need of help, so she helped them. It is part of what it means to be Ochiran.”
“This evacuation is going too damn well,” said Lieutenant Gann. “We’ve only had one jumper so far. I’d expect them to be clawing each other’s eyes out by now.”
Her exec nodded. He had been at the evacuation of that mining colony in the Shelee System when half the colonists died fighting for places on the rescue ship and it had been nowhere near as critical as this one. More ships had been found. They were on their way, but some had a considerable distance to come and it was going to be desperately close as to whether they could get everyone off in time. Nearly all the Ochirans were civilians, yet they managed to maintain a discipline that any army would be proud of.
“I can’t help waiting for something to come round and bite us,” said Lieutenant Gann.
Just then it did, though not in the way she expected.
“Incoming call from Captain Lay on the Garatomba, personal for Lieutenant Gann,” said the comlink operator.
She waited for Oona Lay’s face to appear on the screen. She was senior officer on scene and hence in overall charge of the evacuation.
“Lieutenant Gann?”
“Yes sir.”
“I’m trying to find out what happened to a cartographer named Shania Enterada,” said Captain Lay.
“She e
mbarked on the Starstrider a week ago.”
“I’ve had a call from Starstrider to say she didn’t make it. Something about changing badges with a twelve-year-old girl called Jaycee Flandsten.”
“Oh shit.”
“Pardon, lieutenant?”
“We thought she was a jumper—”
“Where is she?”
“In detention, sir.”
“Then you are ordered to get her on the first ship you can. And I shall expect a full report as to what happened.”
“Yes sir.”
“You’d better apologise as well. If there’s trouble over this I shall make sure it lands on your neck, not mine.”
“Yes sir.”
As the link dropped Lieutenant Gann turned to her number two and said, “Didn’t I say it was going too damn well?”
Then more trouble came through the door in the shape of Princess Desiree. She was wearing a sword, as she usually did, and you always got the feeling that if she didn’t like your answer she would take it out and use it on you.
“I hear you’ve got one of my citizens locked up,” she said.
“It was all a mistake,” said Lieutenant Gann placatingly. “She will be released immediately and placed on the next rescue ship.”
“See that she is. For future reference, this is still Ochiran soil and before you lock up any of my citizens you will clear it with me. Understand?”
“Perfectly, your highness,” said Lieutenant Gann, one eye on the sword. The Ochiran leader was a genuine warrior princess of the type you only saw in historical romance vids. She had actually ridden into battle on a horse, carrying that sword.
“Now that we understand each other, there is one more thing. The correct form of address for me is my lady.”
“Yes your… my lady.”
“You really shouldn’t have said things were going too well,” remarked her exec, as soon as the princess had gone.
“Message from Imperial Command,” said Ensign Inhausen, the Garatomba’s communications officer. “Exotic Dream and Chalize aren’t coming.”
“Why?” demanded Captain Lay.
“Exotic Dream has blown her number-two driver. She’s stopped in space just across the border. They’re trying to fix it, but it looks like tugs. Chalize hit the platform at Main Base C2 and has structural damage. The message is six days old. They had to use Starstrider as a relay and boost it off her main drive to get it through.”
“Pits of Auzoon. Send an acknowledgement back the same way and send a situation report as well. It might get through.”
She looked at the screen where two jets of exotic particles, which the computer was portraying as streams of violet, were shooting into space from the far side of the planet. That was the problem, right there. They were totally scrambling long range communications.
The chance of a subspace blast wave hitting a solid body like a planet exactly at the moment of transition was so remote that no one had worked out in detail what would happen. The models that had been prepared all predicted that huge quantities of radioactive isotopes would be created in the upper mantle. The radioactivity would then spread sideways but would penetrate the crust relatively slowly. What no one had foreseen was that a long-lived form of exotic matter would be created at a depth of between fifty and three hundred miles. This had burned its way through the crust in two places so far – more vents were expected to open at any moment – and was pumping radioactivity into the atmosphere. Instead of months they had days to complete the evacuation and they were already coming up short on capacity before losing Exotic Dream and Chalize. The two ships were expected to lift thirty thousand between them. They were in it right up to the neck now.
“We’ll have to leave some behind,” said Lieutenant Ramlah, the first officer.
Oona Lay pushed her hand through her hair.
“How far over LSL would we have to load?” she asked.
“Just a moment… Eleven per cent. The captains will never agree to it.”
“This is a military operation. They’ll do what they’re told. If they won’t I’ll put spacefleet officers in their control rooms. And we can load Garatomba fifty per cent over LSL. Flat out we can make C2 in six days. Life support should last that long. We will do whatever it takes, but we’re not leaving anyone behind.”
She looked at the two violet plumes shooting into space for a moment, a particle physicist’s paradise but a nightmare for the people on the planet. The radiation level over most of the planet was rising rapidly. Exotic matter was so difficult to create and normally so short-lived, yet somehow by accident this had occurred. In an infinitely complex universe impossible things are bound to happen.
“Get some medics on the surface with anti-rad drugs,” she continued. “The way it’s spewing into the atmosphere it’s going to be over two hundred very soon.”
Shania was trying to eat a ration bar. It had the consistency of putty and no taste whatsoever. She just could not manage it. She had been locked up for just over a sevenday. They had given her water to drink and these disgusting things to eat. A bucket had been provided for her personal business. There had been an earthquake a couple of days ago and another one last night. She sensed instinctively that something bad was happening.
The door opened and Lieutenant Gann came in. What now?
“I’m very sorry,” she said. “We made a mistake. You’re free to go and we’re providing you with a green badge.”
Shania looked at the Atumcarian officer. Just like that? Then she saw the tiredness in her eyes. She’s under great stress and was doing what she thought was right. Probably. There’s no point in making an issue out of it.
“I understand. You were doing your duty as you saw it.”
“Now I need to give you an injection. Radiation levels are rising fast and this will boost your resistance.”
She nodded and Lieutenant Gann placed a small device against the exposed skin of her arm. There was a brief hiss and what felt like a needle penetrated her flesh.
“Now come with me and we’ll try and get you on the Noquelia.”
She took her to the main gate. The queue there was very long now. People were waiting patiently in line while the rain lashed down. Lieutenant Gann took her to the front of the queue, pinned a green badge on her and handed her over to a young ensign who was directing the refugees as they boarded a shuttle.
“This is Shania Enterada,” said Lieutenant Gann. “She has absolute priority.”
So just like that she boarded the shuttle, found a seat and sat down. Someone was shouting to do up the straps, so she pulled it across her waist, snapped the fastener closed and pulled it tight. The door closed, there was a rumbling sound as the engines started and the craft lifted into the air.
I’m on my way to another world.
Lieutenant Gann pulled the hood over her head and did up the fastening. Radiation levels had risen above five hundred and radsuits were now compulsory. She opened the door of the office and stepped outside. More radsuited figures were appearing, relieving the people on duty so they could go and get their radsuits. Based on previous experience this was the point when everyone went completely nuts.
The queue was still very long. Shuttles were arriving and taking off every few minutes. The ships in orbit were being loaded well above LSL in an effort to save everyone. It was a risky thing to do. If one of them had a problem everyone aboard could die.
She watched the queue moving slowly forward. A young officer was shouting himself hoarse trying to keep order.
“When the shuttle arrives it will be like a fire-breathing dragon, but it will not harm you. Do not panic. Do not run!”
Here came the shuttle, dropping down on the jets from its VTOL thrusters.
“Do not panic! Do not run! It will not harm you! There is no danger!”
Then a girl pushed her way out of the crowd and headed towards the ensign. Gann felt for her blaster. Here we go. It’s about to kick off. Better to shoot one person now if it
stops a riot that kills hundreds.
The girl stopped in front of the ensign. The communicator picked up the conversation and automatically relayed it to Lieutenant Gann…
“There is much danger, but we will not panic,” said the girl. “Neither will we run. We understand that it is a machine, guided by human hands. We understand that our world is ending and we must be carried through space to a new world. We thank you for your help, but do not imagine that we are fools.”
She turned and walked back into the queue. The shuttle settled on the grass and the thrusters shut down. Lieutenant Gann took her hand off the blaster. Measuring the distance with her eye, realised the girl would make it aboard this time. There was a young man with her, and between them they supported a woman who apparently could not walk unaided. Suddenly the incongruity of the situation struck her. The Atumcarians were going through procedures designed to control a panicked mob while the Ochirans stood in line and patiently waited their turn.
There’s something impressive about these people. They possess a quality that we, with all our technology, have lost. They have courage. Even when their world is ending they help each other. It’s in their nature.
The shuttle docked on an external airlock. Immediately people were yelling at them to move, so Shania undid the strap, got to her feet and followed the crowd towards the door. Her legs were agony, she could no longer control the pain and she felt sick, but she kept going.
She staggered along a metal passageway, responding to shouted directions from the Atumcarians. A young woman in a green tunic pressed one of those injection machines against her arm and gave her another shot. Someone else passed a scanning device across her body and said, “Fourteen point two one.”
“I can’t stand any longer,” she said. Her legs were buckling. Someone caught her before she fell, she was dragged through a door and placed on a bed. She felt something sharp being pushed into her arm. Some sort of machine was swung across over her body. Consciousness was fading away. She tried to fight off the blackness but it swept over her like the tide.
