Druid's Descendants

by Mark Philipson

  On the Gato, Masato’s graph spoke to Pushaman, “You must return to the Ice Tower and carry out the mission outlined by the First Ones.”

  For the first time since the initial encounter, Pushaman spoke more than a few words: “The First Ones left me to oversee a reclamation project to be implemented in the event the surface of the earth loses its ability to support life.

  “When I awoke from suspended animation, I pressed my fingers to the top of the fire stone block I was enclosed in. Over a period of ten years, pre-programmed commands embedded in my subconscious guided may hands to form the interior of the Ice Tower.

  “Over the next hundred years, the Ice Tower froze the ocean within a 1,000 kilometer radius of the North Pole.

  “Once the polar region was solid, I invoked deposits from the Tower’s core to feed into the upper reaches of still submerged crust.

  “Life forms adapted to the high levels of the light and oxygen emitted by the mineral deposits. As evidenced in what has been referred to as light and dark zones.

  “Within the next century, the expanding ice shelf will displace enough water to permit land masses sunken for thousands of years to rise above current sea-levels.

  “When the First Ones’ Terra-forming is complete and the glacier retreats, the scoured land left behind, now carved with lakes and rivers, will support plant and animal life.

  “After the breeding ground is established, I will conclude the program by tapping into the direct tube leading to the earth’s core, allowing molten lava to seep into the base of the tower and melt the fire stone structure.”

  “What will become of the Brahmantium?” Kenshin asked.

  Masato’s graph answered the captain’s question: “All traces of the element will be destroyed. A group of Citizens will be chosen to inhabit land masses reclaimed from the Oceans once the glass dome is dismantled and Landring is abandoned.”

  “How will the Citizens who’ve come to depend on Coreglass technology be convinced to let go of something that has become an intrinsic element in their lives?” Sobuku asked.

  “I’m afraid we don’t have much choice,” the graph answered, shaking its head to punctuate the negative response. “The First Ones have designed this scenario, we, as humans, are incapable of reversing the process.”

  The graph let his last words sink in and then added, “If the timetable doesn’t proceed according to the original plan, Pushaman will release the molten lava to fissures covering the surface. The earth will become a gas giant supporting a poisonous atmosphere. Life as we know it will not survive.”

  “What can we expect to find when we return to Hirokawa?” Sobuku asked.

  “I’m not programmed to answer that question. I only know the ship must get underway.” The graph faded.

  25

  AS THE MARAUDER class bat-airship came about, Captain Kalapedia, seconds before issuing a command to climb, directed a backward facing sonar wave at the umbrella blanketing the pole.

  Translation codecs converted incoming audio signals to visuals. The ship’s memory banks ran spectral analysis and gas chromatography.

  As the Marauder leveled at 20,000 kilometers, the captain ran a life support systems check.

  Poormina noticed all power systems had gone off line when the ship entered the particle field, including the Main Oxygen Producer (MOP). Without the bubble of air generated by the MOP, the bat-airship should have lost altitude immediately. Ramjet louvers, built into the undersides of the 60 meter wingspan, should have slammed shut.

  As Captain Kalapedia wondered why the ship wasn’t on the ice, her question was answered: initial analysis of the particle field indicated levels of oxygen high enough keep a Marauder class airship in the air.

  Poormina converted the images back to sound and embedded an encoded version into a compressed sonar transmission.

  Setting precise coordinates, Captain Kalapedia launched the sonar signal through the ship’s nostrils. The compressed echo reached speeds surpassing Mach 6 as it streamed toward the equator.

  At the other end of the airship’s path, a piece of curved glass atop a tower intercepted an incoming sonar blast. Echolocation parameters reflected a confirmation signal back to the source of the incoming transmission.

  The compressed signal passed through a translation filter as it emerged at the desktop of the air force director. Prandit Varma routed the signal to the office on the floor below. The lead translator rendered the audio into images. From here, the translator passed the visuals onto the screen in an adjacent office.

  Balan Thakur, Sonar Composite Analyzer, studied the read outs appearing next to each image as the data captured in the sonar scan fluctuated with the changing sequence. After triple-checking, Balan compiled a report based on his findings and uploaded it to the network.

  Director Varma, waiting patiently, saw a flashing icon on the screen. Thakur’s report was available for download.

  Prandit Varma read the results twice. He called Thakur into his office.

  “Please, have a seat, Thakur,” the director said. The adaptable chair formed to the technician’s thin frame as he sat down.

  “Before we begin, I’m assuming this report has been checked twice for accuracy …” the director trailed off.

  “Triple-checked,” Balan said. “I can load the file to the common network and see what the other workstations come up with—”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Director Varma broke in. “I don’t want this data transfer to leave the my office.”

  The analyzer said, “I understand, sir.”

  Varma copied the report to a stand-alone tablet. He erased the crystal drives in the tower equipment and all three workstations receiving the data. After a momentary loss of power, the screens came back online, wiped clean of the raw sonar signal and the rendered translations.

  “If I were to summarize this report, how would I do it?” Director Varma asked, leaning in as he he whispered.

  “May I borrow your tablet?” Balan asked.

  The director tablet across the desk. Balan picked up the slim case, removed a stylus from a holder, and wrote a note on the screen.

  The director read it back: “Particle field elements indicate 100 percent levels of Brahmantium. Oxygen levels at the North Pole show levels capable of sustaining life.”

  Varma said nothing.

  “You must keep in mind, this is just a summary,” Balan broke the silence.

  “I wonder if the particle field and the oxygen levels are related?” the director posed a rhetorical question.

  Balan responded in true analyzer form: “We won’t know that until we get our hands on a block of ice from the pole.”

  “Yes, and Captain Kalapedia will be assigned the task of securing an ice block from the North Pole.”

  “Am I dismissed?” Balan asked.

  The director cleared his throat, “For now, Thakur,” Varma answered. “I want you to begin analyzing the ice as soon as it gets here. You’ll be notified when the captain gets back.”

  Balan left the office and returned to his work station. Director Varma drew up Captain Kalapedia’s flight orders.

  At twice the speed of sound, it took Poormina four hours to reach the equator. Fifty kilometers out, she tipped the ship’s nose and closed wing louvers. The bat descended and Captain Kalapedia glided the rest of the way in though a swirling mass of cyclonic clouds.

  A continuous beacon flashed an echolocation signal out to 3,000 meters. In the distance, a reflecting tower intercepted the signal and pinged back the initial response. Beneath the tower, the doors of a large building slid open. The Marauder class airship swooped down, folded its wings, and came to rest on a metal cradle inside the hangar.

  Once the bat was secure, the doors closed and the cavernous hangar pressurized. A flight attendant pushed a portable staircase across the floor and set it against the captain’s cabin. Poormina stepped out of the cockpit and climbed down the stairs.

  Poormina we
nt through the air lock to the command center hovering inside the glass dome under the cluster of hangars housing airships on the outside.

  When she reported for debriefing, the interrogator informed Poormina she was to report directly to Director Varma for questioning.

  Poormina made her way past the main decks and waited at a docking station. From her vantage point on the glass deck, the captain saw a glittering object hurtling upwards. As the object neared, it slowed down. A spherical hovercraft cut its jet engines and eased into the depressurizing opening on the bottom deck of the command center.

  Captain Kalapedia strapped into one of the compartments lining the circular deck. The driver of the hover-shuttle released the shuttle when the boarding period ran out. The hovercraft fell away from the dock.

  Ramjets spun the outer body in a clockwise motion. The interior cabin remanded still as the craft corkscrewed down through the air.

  26

  THE REVOLVING OUTER rim eased to a stop as the driver brought the hovercraft onto the landing pad. Once the craft was moored, Poormina released the restraining buckles and disembarked with the other passengers. The driver stood off to the side and watched the riders filing into the elevators.

  When the hovercraft detached from its mooring station and ascended, Captain Kalapedia walked to the elevator housing and set her hand on a panel. The panel hissed open and Poormina entered a small chamber. From the top floor, the captain walked down a single flight of stairs to an identical chamber.

  Poormina allowed a red light embedded in a ceramic panel to perform a retina scan. Seconds later, the panel slid open.

  The airship captain walked into Director Varma’s office and stood at attention and saluted.

  Varma looked up from the tablet on the desk. He blacked out the screen with a wave of his hand. “At ease, Captain.” He returned the salute, motioning to the chair across from his desk.

  Cushions confirmed to Poormina’s frame. Sonic emissions soothed sore muscles. The adrenaline boosting dose received before launch was wearing off. The first signs of fatigue were setting in: the drooping chin and heavy eyelids. Poormina pressed her fingertips into her palm until the nails creased the skin.

  Poormina sat up straight as Director Varma initiated the debriefing session: “Are you Captain Poormina Kalapedia?”

  Once he verified the formality queries, Varma stated, “I will be asking Balan Thakur to join us.”

  Poormina hesitated, trying to put a face or rank to the name. When she drew a blank, she asked, “Is this … Thakur … a member of the air force?”

  “No, he’s not. Balan Thakur is a civilian subcontractor,” Varma answered. When he saw the captains knitted brow, he added, “Thakur’s been vetted and has received high security clearance.”

  The door opened. Balan Thakur came into the office. Varma motioned to the vacant chair. Once Balan took a seat, the director began the debriefing: “Tell us in your own words what happened when the ship reached 90° north at 1300 hours?”

  Varma and Thakur listened as Poormina described the power shutdown occurring moments after the appearance of the particle field. Varma and Thakur followed along, comparing data and function drops from the ship’s log with the captain’s account.

  The director and the technician asked the captain to relate the narrative two more times in an effort to pinpoint any inconsistencies. Struggling to stay awake, Poormina waited while Varma and Thakur compared notes for the third time. The captain lifted her dropping chin when the director said, “Captain Kalapedia, you’re dismissed. Report to the medical office and await further orders.”

  Poormina stood and saluted. After Varma shot a quick return, the captain left the office and returned to the main lobby. From here, she took the elevator to 478th floor.

  The medical office spanned three stories from floor to ceiling. Balconies lined terraced walls bridged by stairways and elevators. Personnel roamed the long corridors.

  Poormina reported to room 478-42. Expecting to undergo booster draining therapy and get some needed rest, the captain asked, “Are you sure?” when the attending physician led her to an enhancer rig.

  “You are Captain Kalapedia?” the physician inquired. “It’s right here, ‘Bring booster levels back to 100 percent’.”

  As the physician flashed the orders on his tablet, Poormina received a message on her personal plug:

  — Receive adrenaline enhancers to maximum levels - Report to Hangar 16 - Board Scout class airship Balla 008 - Flight orders will be received when you connect.

  Waves of building lactic acid streamed through muscle fiber. Her head throbbed. Stomach bile burned her throat. Seconds after the first drop of adrenaline took hold, soreness eased. As levels increased, the pulse pounding in her temples backed off and the queasy stomach became a dim memory.

  With her body pumped up on boosters and her mind hardened by hypnotics, Captain Kalapedia left the medical floor. She rode the express elevator. As the door slid open, a hovercraft touched down to its moorings.

  The ship locked down and passengers disembarked. Poormina got on and strapped in. One concept occupied a crystal-clear train of thought: Carry out a successful mission.

  The hovercraft ascended to the upper reaches of the artificial atmosphere and hooked in. Poormina disembarked and made her way through the command center levels. A constant directory ping guided the captain to the specified section of the airport.

  At Bay 16, Poormina set the skin-suit to full power and climbed up the access ladder in the airlock. An overhead crane carried a Scout class airship and set the 50 ton bat on a cradle mounted to an elevated track. The track rotated until lining up with another set of tracks.

  Captain Kalapedia climbed aboard and strapped into the pilot seat. She leaned her head back and connected her personal plug to the ship’s Coreglass memory bank. Poormina verified the pre-flight list with air traffic control and waited for launch clearance.

  Flight attendants stepped into concrete bunkers. Hangar doors opened as rocket engines mounted on the undercarriage of the holding cradle powered up.

  The rockets ignited, pushing the cradle across the tracks and screeching to a halt three meters from the opening.

  The bat pinged the opening, spreading wings to their full 30 meter wingspan just as tops of hind-legs cleared the gaping exit.

  Once the ship was airborne Poormina downloaded the mission objective:

  — Proceed to specified coordinates - Land ship in sonar masking area - Disembark to ice shelf - Use plasma slicer to cut block of ice - Return to ship - Return to base.

  Corresponding details populated the display screen as the mission plan merged with the captain’s thought patterns: exact longitude and latitude, the proposed landing site, the depth of the ice shelf, and operating instructions for the cutting device.

  A straightforward mission. Hypnotics and boosters didn’t see it this way. Adrenaline enhancers and implanted suggestions defined the user’s perspective to view an assigned mission as the driving force.

  Under enhancements, factory workers labored at 24 hour shifts without breaks. Farmers never left their crops. Fishers only returned to port when nets were full. Engineers remained at their workstations day and night. Scientists conducted research and experiments on a continual basis. Soldiers concentrated only on military objectives.

  27

  SECONDS AFTER THE Scout class bat airship cleared the bay door, Captain Kalapedia engaged the wing-mounted ramjets. The ship climbed, leaving the roof of the glass dome behind as it hurtled up into a swirling mass of toxic clouds.

  Poormina deployed the air shroud and tweaked oxygen, nitrogen and trace element levels. When she reached an 80/20 mix, the captain locked in the combination. External air baffles fixed to the tips of the jet pods reached 100 percent filtration, blocking contaminated atmospheric particles leeching through the air bubble’s leading edge.

  The captain invoked the navigation control interface and merged it with the sonar interpreter. She
snapped the coordinates specified in the flight plan to the initial amplified outgoing sonar blast. The signal reached Mach 10 and the incoming ping returned less than one second later. The interpreter relayed course corrections to the navigation controller based on the returning sound wave.

  The Scout continued the angled ascent until the cloud-layer dissipated. Poormina brought the airship into a level flight trajectory.

  After two and a half hours of monitoring environmental settings and adjusting course headings, the duration between outgoing and incoming steering sonar emissions decreased and the first descent indicator alert flashed and sounded.

  Poormina brought the nose down, angling toward the billowing cloud layer below. She switched on the sonar interpreter. Expansive cockpit views faded from window displays, to be replaced with renderings drawn by the visual interpreter.

  As the Scout decelerated and descended, Poormina scanned the sonar visual defining the environmental settings outside of the air bubble. As Captain Kalapedia expected, the interpreter readings indicated decreased ammonia levels and increased oxygen levels.

  Poormina wondered what would happen if she cut off all internal power. Would the jet pods filters be able to absorb the low levels of contaminate still present? These thoughts faded as the captain prepared for final approach.

  On the interpreter render display, a wire-frame grid took the shape of a towering cliff. Fissures and jagged ridges spanned the face from rugged peaks to a frozen beach. Light surf washed ashore.

  Captain Kalapedia concentrated on a landing indicator flashing on the display. Poormina angled the nose downward. The Scout dipped and the captain brought the ship back to level flight three meters above the water. Black blast from the wingtips cut a wake across the calm surface.

  Poormina ascended and cut forward thrust. She set the Scout’s wings to full extension and brought hind legs forward to landing position. The ship slowed. When the talons penetrated the ice, the bat folded its wings and hung upside down on the face of the ice cliff.