There was no response.
“We are taking these two Class 6 shuttles and the engineering tug back with us, right?” Eris asked.
Monika’s voice came through the spacesuit’s communications. “Is there are problem? It seems rather quiet now.”
“No problems. When we get to the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends,” Jerome stated sternly.
“Silence can be a source of great strength,” Cammarry said. “If no one objects, I will fly this one.”
“So DS-616 is now commanded by Cammarry. As the system gets energized, there will be more and more controls coming back into service. The basic operations are not too different from the runabouts, or NS-99, and I believe you know those systems,” Eris stated. “It will run self-diagnostics as it regenerates.”
“I will ask Sandie for any questions I have,” Cammarry answered and took her place in the pilot’s seat.
Sandie added, “I am here to assist as much as possible. I have the full flight manual Jerome recovered in that runabout in my database.”
Jerome huffed, but said nothing else.
“Jerome, shall we go to the next shuttle?” Eris asked. “We will start up that one’s generator, and you can monitor its progress. I will then go and move the cranes and cables to clear our way to fly out of here.
Jerome began to speak, but instead just nodded his head. Eris led him out of the doorway, and she then shut the plug-style door. It seated itself and securely was locked down. For a moment Jerome wanted to wish Cammarry good luck, or some other farewell, but he feared making any comment would just start the quarrel up again. So he tapped on the outside of the shuttle and hoped for the best. His mind raced with memories of seeing Cammarry getting locked into a runabout, and how helpless he felt. Then it had been beyond his control, and now it was the interpersonal conflict which caused him to be unable to speak. He wondered which was more painful.
Maneuvering across the crane and down onto the next shuttle, they saw the plug-style door was still open. This shuttle, very similar to the other was marked, DS-617. They stepped inside, and looked around. Jerome took his seat in the pilot’s chair, and reached down and opened the compartment with the generator controls. He mimicked Eris’ actions perfectly, and the yellow icon appeared on the cockpit controls.
“Cammarry will fly out first, followed by you, and then I will come along behind in the engineering tug. It is smaller and more maneuverable and nimble in tight quarters so if there is some issue, I will be able to help out,” Eris informed him. “Does that sound good?”
“I understand,” Jerome answered in a subdued manner. “Just tell me when to do what.”
The row of seats behind Jerome looked especially empty, and the blacked out windows along the front third of the fuselage did not help dispel the emotional gloom which radiated from Jerome.
Eris left and shut the plug-style door which, like on Cammarry’s shuttle, sealed itself tightly. As she climbed over to the crane controls, Eris wondered again about the silence, but they were doing the job, and right now that was most important. However, when she got to the crane controls, after some scrambling, she switched to a private channel and asked Sandie. “Are Jerome and Cammarry up to this task? I know they saw that other Class 6 fly off with dead bodies, and you can never un-see something.”
Sandie replied, “They are both regretting their words and behaviors. They are trained professionals, but have been pushed far beyond their limits. I am monitoring them closely, and I conjecture a high rate for success of this mission, barring any mechanical failures or other untoward incidents.”
“But being alone is also where they both had problems before,” Eris said.
“I am in complete contact with each of them on separate channels. Believe me, they are not silent there, I am trying to alleviate their isolation,” Sandie replied. “I am replaying some classic readings that Jerome has always enjoyed, and for Cammarry we are in a discussion about the stories I have learned about other members of the Conestoga, those who are not directly involved here. Vesna has some very fascinating stories from her people, and Bigelow is a deep well of tales. Vesna is probably the better historian for accuracy, but Bigelow’s sagas are much more entertaining, and probably carry large segments of hyperbole.”
Eris was able to retract the cranes, but in doing so, one segment jammed, and then when forced it snapped and fell. It struck the clamped in place PS1 shuttle right near where that large shuttle’s wing had been damaged previously.
“Monika, please move your shuttle out of the way. We are about to launch from here,” Eris commanded.
“I am moving now,” Monika replied. “Your flight paths should be clear. Several more of those big floating creatures are gathered around, but none close. Perhaps those animals are intrigued by this shuttle hovering about here for so long?”
“Cammarry, you may launch when ready,” Eris instructed.
“Taking off now.”
The docking clamps snapped open, and Cammarry used DS-616’s thrusters to push it up and outward. She kept it at a parallel course to the hanger bay deck, but then leveled off to pass out beyond the ruined doors. Cammarry sat in the pilot’s seat, belted into place. She breathed some big sighs of relief as all the shuttle’s systems responded properly. The red light of Zalia’s sun and the greens and yellows were a welcome change from the gloomy milieu of Menlo 820. In the distance, she saw a large number of Floaters, near the foliage down on the ground. She was reminded of ancient blimps, dirigibles, and zeppelins. Those creatures were oblong things. Their bodies were spotted yellows, reds, and greens. Cammarry wondered how they floated and were buoyant in the heavy gravity of Zalia, but she put that out of her mind. “Those animals have their own story for another time.”
“Monika, shall you and I head back to the needle ship?” Cammarry called out. Her shuttle was hovering a few hundred meters away and slowly moving along. “We do not want to block the entrance.”
“Sure, we can progress slowly and allow the others to catch up,” Monika answered. “In a way this is our own caravan again, but this time we are not rushing to escape.” A tear ran down her face as she thought of the last images of Beta which she would never forget.
Jerome’s shuttle flew out without any difficulty. He also was glad to leave the wreck behind. As he saw the Floaters, he had an angry urge shoot them. Then he recalled the slaughtered animals he had seen in the menagerie and chastised himself for own his violent impulses. He thought to himself, ‘I am not a hoodlum, nor am I a cruel and heartless monster.’ But then Jerome thought about how badly they needed to stop the Crocks from destroying another habitat. Beta was gone, Delta was gone, Alpha was a mess, and from what Eris had said, Gamma was forbidden to them. ‘Are the other four habitats already destroyed by the Crocks?’ Jerome wondered to himself, and his emotions were in conflict yet again.
Eris watched from the pilot’s seat of the engineering tug. It was far different than the pilot’s chairs in the other shuttles. This pilot seat was at the very front of the main cuboid and jutted out from the rest of the tug. It was at the front most extension and on nearly all sides there was clear permalloy: above, below, and to both sides. That gave her a phenomenal field of vision, except for directly behind her. Instruments were located on the arms of the chair, and on a small upright control shaft which rose from the floor between her legs. Her booted feet were locked into levers and pedals as additional controls. At various places in the clear permalloy were luminous readouts and all the information which would normally be seen on a display in the cockpit. Here the images were translucent and she could control their color, brightness, and positioning with verbal commands. She had to jack a cable from the chair directly into her spacesuit to make the audio commands work, but that only took a bit of simple shifting over of the controls. In typical use, the engineering tug would not have someone piloting it who was in a spacesuit. It would be much easier to operate the engineering
tug without the spacesuit, as it was designed to have a consistent, controlled, internal atmosphere. Eris secured the restraints, and continued the pre-flight checks. She was hesitant to delay her own leaving. She had checked and the engineering tug’s environmental controls looked pristine and fully operational, and the tug did have compressed atmosphere stored in several intact tanks, but that air was old, and she was unsure of all the seals on the cabin. She checked her suit, out of routine habit, and all was well there, so no reason to change, just for a few controls which she could still operate while wearing the suit.
Opening a private communication channel Eris asked, “Sandie, will you arrange for us to fly past that library location where the AI Ogma is located? I want to pass on a message. With all of our shuttles we can also do additional reconnaissance of that area. I am going to ask AI Ogma and see if perhaps the Crocks can rescue SB Virginia Dare. I also an unsure how SB Virginia Dare is transmitting to the library.”
“Yes, that will not be a problem. In fact, the best course back to the needle ship does fall close to there anyway,” Sandie replied.
The docking clamps dropped away, thrusters were fired, and the engineering tug easily rose and departed from the hanger bay. Eris saw the three other shuttles moving slowly away in the distance as her craft emerged from the ruins. She too noted the number of Floaters which had gathered around the wreck’s position.
“Sandie, we are all free from Menlo 820,” Eris yelled in triumph. “Will you please help us by guiding us home?”
“Certainly,” Sandie replied and opened a unified channel to all the pilots. “I have course and trajectory plotted with the destination of the needle ship for all the shuttles. That route will be appearing on your control screens. Please follow the course and if you have any questions, ask. Your squadron is looking good.” There was genuine excitement in Sandie’s voice.
Eris opened a private channel and said, “Sandie, as soon as possible connect me privately to AI Ogma.”
“I understand your reluctance to share your plan with the others,” Sandie stated. “However, may I ask that you reconsider? Please just inform them of your plans. What is done in secret will be uncovered, and everything done in the darkness will be revealed.”
“Now you sound like Jerome,” Eris answered. “They are doing the jobs now, and I fear if they know I am asking something of the Crocks, there with be significant conflict again. That is particularly true of Jerome.”
“Conflict now, or conflict later. I conjecture Jerome will not handle your actions well. Would you reconsider just abandoning SB Virginia Dare?”
“Never. Would Jerome or Cammarry abandon you?” Eris retorted.
“I honestly am not sure at this point if they would or not,” Sandie the AI answered. “With all the interpersonal conflict, the separations, the emotional traumas, and the behaviors demonstrated by both Jerome and Cammarry, I am less certain of the conjectures I make about their responses.”
As the shuttles flew in a loose formation, Sandie continued to converse with the pilots individually, on topics which the artificial intelligence system thought they would be both interested in and would be soothing. Not long later they were approaching the location of the Crock cavern, and the AI Ogma.
“WARNING.”
“WARNING.”
“WARNING.”
Alarms and sounds and signals flashed across the inside of Eris bubble helmet. Her golden colored eyes opened wide as she read and heard the news. She quickly assessed the situation, and found her spacesuit’s internal thermostat had failed. That caused a feedback on the waste recycling system, which then shut-down its functions as well.
“People, I have a problem here,” Eris announced. “My spacesuit has failed. I am both overheating, and in danger of losing internal atmosphere.” Eris began praying fervently as she saw another of her suit’s system sputtering and having difficulties. Her own breath fogged at bit on the inside of the bubble helmet. The spacesuit’s gravity manipulation feature was not stable, and Eris could feel the pull and push on her body as waves of gravity switched. It was not huge, like the gravity sink holes in Beta, but it was disconcerting. The heads-up display inside the bubble helmet flashed a new warning. Her oxygen and air mixture was leaking somewhere. Internal suit pressures were plummeting.
“How can we help?” Monika asked.
“I am setting the tug down,” Eris answered.
“I will pick you up,” Jerome stated. “I will follow you in and hover over you. I will drop a line down, and you can climb up to my shuttle.”
“No!” Eris looked at more of the instruments on her spacesuit, and then called up the engineering tug’s master controls. “Immediate purge cabin and refill with stored air!” Eris commanded. The pumps engaged and pushed the Zalian atmosphere, which had entered the tug in the ruined hanger bay, out to the exterior of the tug. She also entered the button sequence on the arm of her chair to do an, ‘emergency purge of cabin’. That physical command sequence was accepted, and she hoped it would work. The suit’s communication with the tug was scratchy and erratic, as she could not hear the tug’s alarms consistently in her helmet, even though they flashed on the translucent displays on the viewports. She then saw a reading indicating vacuum in the cabin. “I cannot breathe that! Refill cabin with stored air!” She entered the commands on the instruments to open the stored atmospheric canisters which would flood the cabin with the Earth normal air. At least she prayed it was still Earth normal air, as she saw the pressure readings on her suit’s internal air falling to dangerous levels. The indicators from the tug were getting increasingly difficult to read, as her helmet fogged, and the voice commands, and audio responses were unreliable. She engaged the environmental controls for cabin temperature and tapped in what she thought would be thirty-five degrees, with proper air pressures. “It must be warm enough to survive in here.”
“What is happening?” Monika asked, concern and worry were in her voice.
“Spacesuit failure. I have a suit leak, and failure of spacesuit integrity,” Eris reported. While she worked, she watched for some place on the planet’s ground where she could land. The tug was descending rapidly but in a controlled manner. She must land quickly for she knew she could not operate the craft and escape the spacesuit at the same time.
“Sandie! Take over control of that shuttle!” Jerome ordered.
“Unable to comply. Eris has it set for manual controls,” Sandie answered. “The engineering tug does not have the same transponders and remote access controls as the other shuttles. I am unable to override its controls. I can do nothing to intervene.”
Eris watched for a place to land, but the odd foliage was covering most of the ground. She spotted an outcropping of some dark brownish-red area that was void of the stalks and other things which sprouted up from the alien’s worlds surface. “I vacated the air in the cabin and am re-pressurizing it using compressed atmosphere.”
“That was stored decades ago. Is it safe?” Cammarry asked.
“No other choice. My suit is failing too quickly. I must try this,” Eris answered.
The engineering tug touched down to the planet’s surface, and settled into the gooey brownish sludge. Whatever it was on the ground, it was neither liquid, nor solid, but more a spongy and bouncy gel-like substance. The skids on the engineering tug sank down into it about a quarter meter, and the tug rocked a bit as it settled in.
“Pray for me!” Eris said as she popped open her bubble helmet right as the suit’s indicator reached the critical line on the gauge. Eris could feel the lack of oxygen as she took a huge breath.
There was a long pause as Monika, Jerome, and Cammarry listened for a response from Eris.
Gasp!
Hot, stale, and malodourous air entered Eris’ lungs. She tossed off the bubble helmet, which allowed her to see the instruments more clearly. The clear permalloy helmet bounced noisy onto the deck of the cabin. Hearing that sound was comforting to Eris as her mind knew hearing so
unds indicated at least some adequate air and pressure. “Cabin readings! Engage emergency gravity manipulation, for one standard.”
A translucent list of factors showed on the viewports.
“It is not ninety-five in here, I would be burning to death,” Eris squawked. “Adjust cabin temperature to twenty-one degrees.” She eyed the rest of the readouts. The cabin’s pressure read out 14.7, so that was not right either. Then she saw the cabin indicators were exhibited in some old and obsolete measuring system.
“Display reading in standard measurements!” Eris commanded.
The translucent list shifted, and she read out more normal readings. They stayed for a moment and then flickered, flashed, and switched back to the archaic measuring rates.
“That is nonsense,” Eris complained. “Why would nonstandard measures be used?”
“Eris are you safe?” Monika asked. Real concern was in her voice.
“Sorry, yes. The air smells bad, but it is breathable, for now. I am running diagnostics on the tug’s systems. I am getting readings in some ancient customary units. Must be a subroutine some joker or prankster put into this ship. Basic systems check out, and I can set the gauges and scanners to standard easy enough.” Eris added to herself, ‘I hope’.
The Colony Ship Conestoga : The Complete Series: All Eight Books Page 164
