by A J Britnell
“It’s Bernard, Madam,”
“Ah, are you French, Bernard?”
“Oui.”
“What were you doing down here, Bernard?”
“I was flushing out one of the septic tanks”
“Very glamourous!” John chipped in.
Bernard smiled, “Well, where you find people, you find crap.”
Haruka studied the Frenchman for a moment; he was so young. He must be about nineteen, she thought. He still had the frame of a boy.
“So, what is EVAC then? Are you a security company?”
Haruka puzzled a second, “We’re still working that out but primarily we’re a rapid response unit – for emergencies and such like.”
“Do you think this constitutes an emergency then.”
“Not sure, we know as much as you.”
Bernard excused himself to scout ahead, “I think it is this way but I normally go back via the service exit. I’m trying to remember the fire safety training – I wish I paid more attention.” His voice disappeared around the bend.
The two men were in deep conversation a few metres behind; Haruka gauged they were generally complaining in light hearted banter. John joked about what a perfect holiday destination this was and Marcus added how he’d gone right off the Moon. Haruka walked over, “Hey boys, what do you think that Schaefer Logistics guy was doing?”
“Same as us I suppose – checking out the security,” John replied.
“Yes, but he didn’t seem particularly competent. You would have thought he’d be looking for the Command Centre the same as us – not running for cover like some tourist.”
“Well they’re not professionals like us, are they,” Marcus added as he turned his peeked cap backwards.
“What like you!” John quipped.
John’s demeanor changed; he fell silent, looking back the way they had come. Marcus continued to ramble on but was quickly hushed by the tap of his friend’s hand. “There’s someone down there,” he whispered. They listened intently.... a thump, a clatter; someone was moving in a nearby room. “Hey who’s down there?” John called out, suspiciously. Instantly a door slammed back on its hinges, a shadowed figure darted out and ran in the opposite direction. The men stood in unison and charged after the mysterious character, calling out for them to stop.
It was just as they reached the door that the bomb went off.
At the time, nobody knew what it was. The explosion was confined and emitted a deafening crack that changed the pressure within the tunnel.
Haruka came around first. Her senses returned gradually. At first, she only felt the burning pain of smoke reaching her lungs, causing her to cough uncontrollably. Next came taste; acrid plastics, chemicals. Sight came slowly. She forced her eyes open and squinted through the clouds of smoke that were tinted red from the emergency lighting. Finally, her hearing returned but she soon wished it hadn’t – the ringing was unbearable.
Haruka held her sleeve to her mouth and made her way towards the blast; where she last saw her friends.
The glowing smoke swirled around the narrow passage. With stinging eyes, Haruka could only feel her way and a couple of paces in, her boot hit something soft. She crouched down and felt along the leg to a still body. It was John, she could tell from his muscular frame. Her hands continued up his body to his neck, where she felt for a pulse – it was there.
Stepping over, she continued her search for Marcus, expecting him to be ahead but the corridor was empty. A faint cry came from behind and she returned to John to find him still unconscious. The moaning started again and Haruka concluded it was coming from beneath John. She heaved his huge body by pulling at his shoulder and revealed Marcus fighting for breath. Together they rolled John away and Marcus managed to pull himself into a seated position.
The steward joined them, he also was suffering from the effects of the blast.
“He needs oxygen,” Haruka shouted at him, but Bernard could only see her lips moving. Putting two and two together, Bernard squeezed past and entered the smoke-filled room, returning shortly with two breathing masks. Haruka took one and passed the elastic around the back of Johns head, Bernard did the same for Marcus.
They returned to the room and found another mask, taking turns to draw breath. The explosion hadn’t been that bad, despite the noise. Apart from the smoke there appeared to be little damage, the fire having been extinguished by automatic Halon, but then Haruka noticed a door at the far end that was ajar. Bernard yanked it open, scraping it on the floor on buckled hinges. “The blast came from in here.”
“What room is it?” Haruka asked. A cloud of smoke escaped the room beyond and Bernard fanned the air. His face turned ashen, “It’s the air recycling plant.”
They both new what that meant.
“Is it manned?” Haruka questioned, leaning into the smoke-filled space.
“Always - about half a dozen I think.”
Haruka cried out, “Hello….” it echoed for a few seconds. They waited for a response for as long as they could bear but the air was sucked from their lungs. Bernard shouldered the door and pushed it back the best he could, "Could anyone survive that?”
“I don’t know, but we need to get help in there if they’re going to stand a chance.”
Bernard tried his communication device again but it was still unresponsive. The air was still thick with smoke. Bernard looked around the room for the ventilation ducts; there was one in the ceiling so he climbed on a desk and he reversed the controls. Thankfully it was still working and it whirred to life, drawing out the toxic air along with any remaining oxygen.
They shared the oxygen as they made their way out into the corridor. Grabbing the two men by their armpits they pulled them to their feet and marched them back into the side room were the air was clearer.
Haruka took a lung-full and passed it back to Herman. “Bernard, we can’t go on and leave these people – they could all be dead by the time we find help.”
Their companions began to regain their faculties. Marcus, the younger of the two recovered quickly and helped John to his feet; he staggered. “Hey Marcus, what happened?” The bewildered giant pulled at his face mask in confusion, wrenching it free only to collapse into an acrid coughing fit.
Marcus reattached the ventilator, “Take it easy bro, there’s been some kind of explosion.”
John shook his head as if trying to shake the bells from his ears. He listened while Haruka described the devastation in the room beyond. He drew three deep breaths and said, “You’re right Haruka, we’re wasting time talking about it.”
Haruka surveyed her friend’s condition, her concern obvious.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” John assured. He slapped his cheeks, urging his blood to restore his senses.
“Okay. There should be more oxygen masks at the fire point; they’re in a cabinet to the left, if it is not blown up.”
John and Bernard, wearing the masks, heaved open the buckled door to a billowing toxic cloud. The others tucked their chins into their clothes and held their breath. Within a few seconds the men returned with the supplies and the foursome charged into the room with renewed strength. An earie red glow hovered at head height. The emergency lighting was useless so John rummaged through the cabinet for torches. Once distributed the scene could be properly assessed. Their beams crossed to highlight the extent of the damage.
With imagination, you could just workout the probable layout of the air recycling plant. Flimsy partition wall stood no chance against the blast allowing anything not bolted down to be blown against the perimeter concrete walls in scorched drifts. Much of the pipework appeared intact. It threaded across the room connecting huge vessels in a complicated network but closer to the explosion the perfect geometry was obliterated, leaving behind an organic starburst of contorted metal. Bernard pointed in a westerly direction, to the room within a room. “That must have been the site of the explosion.”
The huge vats that housed the volatile gasses we
re thankfully contained into a smaller, controlled area, not that it was enough to stop the blast; an entire reinforced wall had split open like a tin can.
They waded through insulation foam, blown free from the canisters and pipework. “The explosion couldn’t have burned that hot or this foam would have vaporized,” John surmised, his voice muffled by the breathing apparatus.
John took charge, “Okay, let’s spread out and look for survivors – Marcus, you take Bernard.”
Hissing pipework hampered their senses as they listened out for signs of life. Chunks of debris had to be removed carefully as they picked their way through the room to meet at the centre of the explosion. Marcus shushed Bernard who turned out to be a nervous talker. “I can hear a faint moan. Can you hear it?”
He tuned out the white noise of sizzling electronics. “Yes, over there.”
They waded through strewn furniture in the direction of the faint sound, still mindful of their footing. Marcus, noticed the figure first; he was spread eagled over an upturned desk, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle. He scrambled through the obstacles with determination. Marcus froze. In the dim light the man’s burns glistened; he gagged. Feeling ashamed of his disgust he stole himself before leaning in for a closer inspection; the burns were full thickness and obviously incredibly painful but only effected his upper right side. His eye had puffed shut and a yellow discharge oozed from his lid. Marcus removed his mask to speak and inhaled the sickly scent of burnt flesh; he recoiled. Taking another rejuvenating gulp of oxygen, he carefully assessed the man’s injuries and lightly touched his neck for a pulse. “Hey, I’m Marcus; I’m here to help you.”
The man whimpered.
Marcus called to Bernard to throw him an oxygen mask. “Now this is going to sting a little.” He carefully stretched the strap over the man’s head, trying to keep it away from the angry blisters. The elastic caught a patch of singed hair, pulling it away from his scalp.
This was not the only casualty. Haruka tended another engineer; more broken bones and burns. Nearer the explosion site, the wounds worsened. “Hey John, I think I’m okay here – have a look under that wall over there.”
John obeyed and cautiously ventured deeper. It did not look promising; a pair of motionless legs with horrific crush injuries at the hip. He craned, searching beneath the concrete for signs of life; he shook his head.
Demoralized, the group retreated. Four people had been found alive. With their limited medical resources, they could only give oxygen and stem bleeding.
“Hopefully it will be enough,” Haruka said, “until we get help to them.” She threw an oxygen refill to Bernard. “Will you be okay to stay until help arrives; we need to move. Which way do we go?”
Bernard gave vague directions and the crew raced down the corridor and further into the maze.
By the time they reached the next ladder a rescue party was descending with stretchers and duffle bags. Haruka waited in the stairwell until the head of the party took sight of the trio. “Thank god you came.”
The medic looked just as relieved, “The elusive EVAC Team I take it? Command Centre’s looking for you.”
“Sorry, we got caught up in the explosion; there are four casualties in the plant. We patched them up as best we could but they’re in a bad way.” Haruka leant on the handrail, catching her breath.
“An explosion?” The man quickened his pace, “Okay, we’ll take it from here.” A little way on he turned and asked, “Do you know what caused it?”
“Don’t you know?”
“No. The command centre’s a mess. There’s no communication – the building’s in some kind of lockdown. All we knew was that the oxygen generation stopped and we couldn’t communicate with the plant. We only came as a precaution.” The rest of his team rushed ahead of him to aid the injured, “Get to the Command Centre and fill them in – down the next flight of steps.”
The air was cleaner here and they only needed occasional draws on the oxygen. At the bottom of the ladder they huddled together in front of a hatch. The plaque read: COMMAND ROOM.
When someone finally opened the hatch, Haruka found a room in chaos. People were three deep at computer terminals, arguing with each other. No-one seemed interested in the new arrivals so Haruka yelled, “Excuse me, can I have your attention a minute!” Faces turned and the room silenced. “There’s been an explosion.”
After Haruka explained the recent events in the tunnels the staff descended into further panic. The operations manager stepped forward and introduced himself. Gregory Peterson was a pleasant looking man in his mid- forties. He had years of experience but the current situation obviously tested his resolve by the appearance of rings of sweat on his shirt sleeves. He quickly picked a small group, “You three, go and help the medics and try and ascertain the cause of the explosion – Nasim, contact the infirmary; make sure they’re ready to receive.”
Peterson activated a three metre screen and a schematic of the base appeared, each layer represented by a different colour. “We’ve gone through the pressure readings in the plant, everything seems normal up until the point we lost systems. I don’t think we had any leaks.” Peterson stroked his unshaven chin, running through scenarios. “So, you said you saw someone leave the room before the explosion?”
John stepped forward, “Yes, it was strange; I called out but they just ran in the opposite direction. I know they heard me; they stopped a moment.”
“That does sound suspicious, any of our guys would be looking for help.” He paused, “Do you think we could be looking at a bomb?”
John shrugged.
Peterson couldn’t take any chances and he addressed the room, “Right, a computer virus and an explosion aren’t a coincidence; there’s a possibility we could be under some kind of terrorist attack. Let’s look at the situation logically - I want to know what the most pressing problems are and I need solutions.”
His second in command stepped up to the screen and pinched his finger and thumb together, causing the image to zoom in on a central hub. “This is the emergency bunker,” he began, “Hopefully all three-hundred odd guests and staff have found their way to this bunker. As far as we can tell they have power and food and water but now we have the problem of air circulation.”
“How far along are we with the back- up supply?” Peterson interrupted.
“We have men working on that.” He turned to Haruka to explain the situation, “The back- up supply comes from the Greenhouse but with this computer virus-it’s going to take time.”
At the mention of computer virus, Marcus got up from his chair and offered his help to Peterson who gratefully accepted. A man broke from the meeting and showed Marcus to a terminal.
“Okay, what’s next on the disaster list,” Peterson continued.
Haruka spoke next, “You have an elderly couple trapped in the Apollo tunnel.”
“And the pylon!” Marcus interjected.
“Yes, I fear there may be more people the tunnel.” He began pointing at different areas on the map that they were concerned about. “These doors have come down, some of them we could open manually if we send someone round to each door but the Apollo tunnel is a different story. We need the virus decoded to regain control. There are actually two pylons down do we think they are connected?”
Marcus stood up, “Well it would certainly leave the hotel vulnerable to the meteor shower, it’s a perfect target.”
“I think you have a bigger problem,” John interrupted, “If it is terrorism they might be planning another attack.” John’s voice was shaky with anger and exhaustion, “Chances are he knows what your next move is and he’ll be planting another bomb while we sit here on our hands.”
Peterson rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, considering. “To be honest, they’re all enormous problems and we’re going to struggle to get around them all. But the most important is keeping the oxygen flowing. We’d better get a team down to the Greenhouse first and then then we’ll deal with
the other locations. Haruka, would you lead a team to check it out?”
Haruka nodded, “Before we go I need to get a message to the rest of my team. We need help.”
Chapter Eleven
Stefan replayed Haruka’s message. He felt a fool for belittling Haruka’s concern but there was nothing he could do about it; he was committed to finish this job first. Herman stood stony faced.
“Can you send Healey a message and fill him in?” he said wearily, “Maybe he can get there before us.”
Clambering out of the Bug, Stefan hurried over to the excavation site. Progress had been swift thankfully and the truck had been exposed enough to be winched up.
They decided to use the massive harvester to pull the truck up using pulleys. Claus had the job of launching a hand held grappling hook. He shouldered the device that looked like a mortar gun and fired it at the cliff face beyond the truck. It hit hard, digging into the craggy surface and dislodging even more rock. They all held their breath for a moment until the rock face appeared stable and then Claus gave the cable a sharp tug to test its hold.
Attaching a pulley was a simple task and the steel rope was thread through the pulley and then round the axel of the truck before being hooked on to the rear of the harvester.
Herman had struggled to climb the two- metre high ladder to the cab; it was a giant. The machine was automated but thankfully could be driven manually. He radioed to the command centre at the top of the crater for the override code. Herman wriggled in his seat expectantly. When a steering wheel rose from the dash it made him jump. He smiled as he touched the control panel, enjoying the over-sized cab and array of switches.
About ten minutes later Herman had familiarised himself enough with the controls to attempt moving the beast. He decided to avoid reversing and drove the vehicle in a wide arc to position the harvester within reach of the truck. Once attached, Herman drove away and the cable tightened. Gradually the truck began to lift; the remaining rubble tumbled away and a cloud of dust enveloped the site.
