Warp Thrive

by Ginger Booth

  “Did people live in this dome?” Sass asked Aurora. “Or was it only used during the day?”

  “The eruption came at mid-day, without warning. There were people here. Whether they stayed or fled home…” The geisha considered this a moment. “I bet the spaceport was readying the skyships for emergency evacuation. And ran out of time. But plenty of people worked in this dome. Including their Selectmen.”

  “That makes sense. Let’s get started.”

  Sass found the ash-concrete every bit as frustrating to cut as Copeland warned her. Even if she had the Thrive here instead of the Nanomage, their landscape-cutting techniques simply wouldn’t work on such crumbly pseudo-rock. And the sloppy controls drove her nuts.

  With significant trial and error and sweat, she managed to cut a trough about 5 meters long in the empty safe zone of the spaceport. The exploding ash formed something of a furrow, piled higher to the sides.

  She paused to consider her work. If she exited Nanomage into that cut on foot, she’d be hard-pressed to scramble through it.

  “Try the sonic gun,” Zan suggested.

  Sass frowned. “Why?”

  “Sound. It wiggles,” Zan explained, lacking the physics vocabulary. “When a sonic gun hits a dome, the dome is fine, but everything inside vibrates. I’ve seen it knock a cup off a table.”

  “You’re sure it’s safe?”

  “At low power.” Zan paused to reconsider. “Maybe you should check with Copeland.”

  The engineer agreed the sonics wouldn’t do steel glass any harm, but anything above 1/4 power could make any humans inside mighty unhappy.

  Sass shrugged and tried the sonics next to her first cutting. Unlike the laser, which made the ash and gravel explode, the sonic gun carved a fairly neat furrow, as though drawing a bucket through sand. Moving over a couple meters, she tried it again at 3/4 power. That scoured the ash right down to the spaceport hard-top, clearing a path a couple meters wide. The dross billowed away into the air. She turned the ship, and used the engine exhaust to blow the area clear, twice as large.

  “Zan, you have very good ideas!”

  The young hunter grinned. Sass let him take over the guns again, as they honed their cut-and-blow technique. After another 20 minutes of practice, they’d cut a clearing big enough for Nanomage to park below the ash top.

  “One more technique test,” Sass said. “Now that we can turn this stuff back to dust, can we also fuse it into a ramp?” She let Zan take over holding station, and selected a ramp location out of her clearing. With the highest-power lasers, she proved that she could fuse ash. The sensors claimed it was at least as firm as the solid-set ash they’d originally carved.

  So they could clear ash, and form a way out of the hole. That way, they didn’t need to carve a hole big enough for a spaceship anywhere they wanted to check a dome.

  “OK, we’re ready for the dome,” she murmured, tapping the spot where Aurora remembered the bio-lock in. “Cut to 1 meter with the heavy sonics. Then cross the T with a few meters along the wall at 1/4 power.”

  Zan swallowed nervously. Sass’s hands were sweating, too. But their system appeared to work. As she brought the engine exhaust to bear, an expanse of dome glass poked though the cloud of grey dust and light gravel. Clay and Kaz hooted triumph behind them.

  The first stretch of dome didn’t appear to include a bio-lock door. So they came at it again, toward where Aurora recalled a simpler airlock. Contaminating this particular dome wasn’t their most pressing concern. She decided to cut parallel to the dome, to a meter away, with the high-power sonics, then do a second pass on the edge of the dome, using the engine exhaust from their wake in the same sweep, to clear a 50-meter swath.

  That accomplished, they studied their handiwork. There was a door, probably the airlock. And according to what maps they had, and the curve of the dome wall, the bio-lock entrance must have opened into a narrow alley between this and the next dome. “Airlock it is,” Sass declared.

  She set the Nanomage down a few meters from the top of her ramp. Zan and Kaz exploded out of their seats to gear up.

  The captain should stay with the ship, she argued with herself. Screw that. “Wilder to the bridge,” she announced. “We’re going in,” she added to Clay.

  He grinned and nodded sharply.

  25

  Sass and Clay clambered out of Nanomage’s airlock first, wearing only breath masks and sturdy clothes. The others would work in pressure suits, as they didn’t have a bio-lock. Mercifully, it was the middle of the night and a mere spring-like 95 degrees – cool for Denali.

  Sass didn’t require a bio-lock. She could flash-freeze with her gear, then recuperate inside the ship in a couple minutes. The couple briefly considered trying to keep this quiet. But they decided that circumstances made it obscene to be coy about what they could do. Others might need to know.

  The suited team filed out behind them, hauling tools. Wilder stayed behind, insisting that the ship needed someone inside contamination procedures and ready to act.

  Kassidy immediately fanned out her camera drones. “Captain Sass Collier! Salute the audience.”

  Sass shot a brief smile at a drone, then ignored them. “Aurora, I’d like you to keep the authorities apprised back at Waterfalls. Kassidy, same for Thrive.”

  Kassidy corrected her. “We started broadcasting video when the first bit of dome appeared. Sass, the entire Aloha system is watching. Well, the signal won’t reach Pono for hours yet.” The two planets were nearly as far apart as they ever got, on opposite sides of the sun at the moment. “But Thrive is monitoring.”

  Sass looked back to the drone, thoughtfully this time. She nodded respect. “If anyone’s in there, we will find them. Let’s go.”

  The others proved spooked by the ash. But this landscape was as familiar as Mahina moon dust to Sass and Clay. Though it had been a few decades since either had broached a virgin crater. They led the way and tested the ramp down from the walls of ash into their clearing. The ramp proved treacherous at the outer edge, but sound down the middle.

  “Sass, did you see that?” Kassidy cried as they reached the bottom.

  The captain had her back to the dome, watching her flock. Clay told her, “A light flashed inside the dome.”

  “SOS,” Kaz noted, with the best vantage point bringing up the rear. “Someone’s signaling SOS.”

  “Flash them an ‘R,’” Sass ordered. “Dit-dah-dit.” Their helmets were lit in the overcast darkness.

  “Done.”

  Sass trusted them to follow and took the lead again, striding through her new-carved maze to reach the dome side. Flashes continued within, but she couldn’t see actual people through the glass brick. She continued to the airlock. They got busy sweeping dust out of the way.

  The door didn’t have power – not a surprise. Aurora pointed out the manual override and demonstrated how to crank it. Zan and Kaz, impatient, grabbed onto the sides of the door and heaved to speed this along. As soon as a pressure suit could squeeze through, they thronged in, guns at the ready.

  “Guns? Really?” Sass inquired dryly.

  “Desperate people,” Zan replied unrepentant. “Stay behind us.”

  By now, the signalers from within were visible beyond the see-through inner door. They too were armed, and bore the bakkra of a hunter. Sass had to concede that Zan had a point.

  But Zan mimed raising his hands in surrender, then laying his weapon down. His counterparts inside did the same. As soon as Aurora and Clay managed to get the outer door closed, the figures within set to help crank from their side.

  Sass studied them. They were thin, their bellies bloated and their loincloths filthy. Yet they had the strength left to walk and work.

  The moment the door opened a crack, Sass placed a hand-held air meter against it. “CO2 high, volatiles, organics. This air sucks, people. Warm, too – 105.” The Denali, to her pleasure, used Fahrenheit. As soon as she could fit it through, she pulled off her face mask and h
eld it out to a man standing behind the two at the crank. “Take a few breaths,” she invited.

  He gratefully did so, then took his place at the crank while the others came to take a turn, blissfully drawing clean air into their lungs. “Hermitage?” asked one of the later pair. “I’m Cort.”

  “Zan, Waterfalls. These people are from the spaceship Thrive from Mahina. Captain Sass Collier.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Cort,” Sass assured him. Cort’s companion started to return her face mask. She waved for him to continue using it for the moment. He went back to cranking, sharing the breathing treat with his companion.

  “How many survivors here?” Sass demanded.

  Cort looked away, then back at her. “Seventy or so left. We can reach three other domes from here. We’re not the priority.” He turned to Zan in entreaty. “Creche first.”

  The door stood open wide enough by now for Zan to reach in with his map tablet. “Where?”

  Cort puzzled over what he was being shown. “Ah!” He voiced dismay as he realized the light blue traces showed possible air pockets like the one he stood in. “No…” He clenched his eyes shut briefly in pain.

  “The infant creche was here.” He pointed to a dome which showed only on the map of the city, not the air bubble blue overlay. “But here, that’s the cosmo kindergarten.”

  “Age 5 to 12, cosmos,” Aurora translated this for Sass’s benefit. “Cort, was the farm garden in the dome with the infants? Sass, hunter children stay with the ags to age 9.”

  “No,” Cort replied. “That might be this L-shape.”

  Sass decided she’d had enough of the shortcomings of this map, and took it from him. She squeezed through the door to claim a seat on the floor. She made a safe copy of the survey layer, and hid it for now. Then she stretched her blue air pockets to meet up with the city map better.

  “Yes!” Cort exulted, squatted beside her. “That L-shape is two domes, not one. Ag and cosmo.”

  “And which are you connected to?” Sass asked.

  Cort showed her. She filled in the indicated blue domes and noted ‘Cort-70.’ None of them reached particularly close to the suspected creche. “Where are your people? What condition?”

  “They’re in the ag dome.” He tapped it. “The air’s better there. We cannot leave before the children.”

  “He’s right, Sass,” Aurora murmured.

  “We aren’t ready to evacuate anyone yet, in any case,” Sass replied. “You said 70 survivors here. How many did you start with?”

  Cort sighed heavily and didn’t meet her eye. “There was fighting. Several hundred. We had two of the Selectmen. They died.”

  “I want to see,” Sass said firmly.

  “Is that the best use of our time?” Clay wondered aloud.

  “Kassidy and Aurora, with me,” Sass said by way of reply. “Show me, Cort. But don’t let them out. You’re right, we need to check the children first.” She put her face mask back on, unconcerned about the bakkra load it had doubtless acquired. The entire group self-selected to come along with the women.

  The walk through the abandoned dome was eerie. In the beams of their headlamps, it looked unwashed, and the bamboo grove dividers and planters were dead. Otherwise it appeared much like an abandoned version of their nearest cosmo dome at Waterfalls, save empty and echoing.

  Aurora drew close to Sass and murmured over a private comm circuit. “They’re powerfully ashamed, Sass. I think these hunters overwhelmed the farmers and cosmos. Possibly ate them.”

  “Makes sense,” Sass murmured.

  Aurora shot her a scandalized look.

  Sass shrugged. If there weren’t enough for all, that was simply what she would expect, up to cannibalism at the last. “They don’t look like full-time cannibals. They’ve eaten better than that.”

  Sadly, Sass knew this from experience. When the starving fed on the starving, without any other food source, it didn’t help much because the meat was too lean. They called it ‘rabbit starvation’ because eating nothing but lean rabbits had the same effect. Without fat or carbs, eating lean meat was almost worse than nothing.

  Prime sloped more gently than Waterfalls. The connecting corridor to the ag dome was short and straightforward, simply 10 meters between a pair of pressure doors.

  These doors were powered. The far door was dim, but no more so than night cycle might account for. A group of eager faces waited beyond it.

  Cort made them back away, and led Sass in, the others trailing.

  Sass immediately checked her air meter, and pulled off her face mask. She handed the gauge to Kassidy and told her softly to report to Thrive. “Then pan your cameras slowly through the people. Get closeups for the doctors.” She turned to look for Eli, but the botanist was already peering through a window into the crop section of the dome, separated by another door.

  “I’m chief,” an old hunter claimed, pushing forward. “Nathaniel.”

  Sass blinked, and rapidly reassessed. Nathaniel was a farmer name. She’d originally thought hunters had overrun the farmers, but maybe not. The bakkra space had been breached into this agricultural dome. Which meant its days were numbered, its farms contaminated. She quickly explained who they were, and that they could not immediately evacuate anyone, but needed to let Waterfalls know their condition.

  “Which is?” she prompted.

  “We have food and water and power. This dome has air. But the harvest is done, and the air is going bad. We have a couple face masks and empty tanks left, no way to refill them. We could crack water for oxygen, but then we’d have nothing to drink.”

  Sass thanked him and excused herself to check with Eli. He reported that the farm was done for. It was simply too hot to start more crops, and bakkra were taking over. No question – these people must be evacuated.

  In Sass’s estimation, they’d probably survive, getting sicker, for up to a week, or two weeks with some fatalities. “Have we seen enough here?” she asked her team.

  “Bring a guide,” Zan suggested. “Might need three.”

  “Excellent thought.” She visited the chief again and explained her need to know where airlocks and bio-locks were on each dome, and that the city maps she brought didn’t supply that crucial data. Could he offer a native guide who knew the city especially well?

  The chief sent someone to fetch the breath gear, tapped Cort as their best local floor plan advisor, and sent another person running to fetch his tablet from his office. Sass was impressed. This leader thought quickly. When the tablet arrived, he rummaged a minute, then held it out to her. “Evacuation route maps for the city. It’s a few years old.”

  “With every lock shown on it!” Sass beamed appreciation. “Exactly what we need, thank you! Oh – you wouldn’t happen to know where the skyship fuel depot was, would you?”

  He gazed at her blankly. “I’m a farmer. Sorry.”

  “Right.” She met his eye. “It’s an honor, sir. You have my enormous respect for keeping these people alive, and in such good condition. Do it a little longer. I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I can.”

  He nodded slowly, and swallowed. “Creches first.”

  “Agreed.”

  As they left, Aurora slipped in beside Sass again. “They’re incredible. Inspiring.”

  “They are that,” Sass breathed. “Is Waterfalls mobilizing?”

  Aurora supplied, “Selectman Gorey is on the ship, bringing in rescue workers and supplies. Neptune can’t offer direct help, so they’ve taken over mapping and data management.”

  She showed Sass her tablet. The mismatch between air pockets and city plan was far better resolved by warping the poor city map rather than the current reality of the ash air pockets. Each potential survivor space was assigned a label. Pop-up meta data described what was in the dome, most of it sketchy.

  Sass handed her the chief’s tablet. “Copy this off and get it to Neptune. That’s a huge help. And give the guy back his tablet, would you? How long until Thrive takes of
f?”

  “Thrive wants you to call them,” Aurora replied.

  “Excellent, Aurora. Any chance Neptune knows where the fuel depot is?”

  Aurora huffed a laugh. She bent her head to forwarding the emergency evacuation map to Neptune.

  “Didn’t think so,” Sass allowed.

  26

  “No, you will not commandeer my ship,” Sass retorted to Selectman Gorey. He waylaid her the instant she and Clay emerged from flash-freeze in the airlock. Most of their team was still outside, and would likely stay there. Someone had thoughtfully staged an air tank in the lock for quick top-ups.

  “This is a planetary emergency –” Gorey argued.

  Sass raised a hand to stop him. “I command this ship, and my team. You command the civilian rescue forces. And we coordinate. Selectman, we are cooperating fully in good faith. Let me do my job. Don’t talk to my people. Which I need to do, excuse me. Cope! Brief me on your status.”

  She said that last while striding away from Gorey as quickly as possible. She was happy to see Clay accost the hunter leader to keep him occupied. He suggested himself as liaison, and probably explained the local state of play as well. Sass breathed a sigh of relief and gratitude to have a partner she could rely on.

  The engineer gave her a heartfelt hug, grateful to have her back. He provided a marvelously succinct run-down on their preparations and limitations, and his top requests. She learned Ben was on bio-containment and refugee intake. An older technician he pointed out to her, Reza, led the Denali technicians. The fuel tanks were functional, so the tech cadre would help Copeland rig pumps and water and whatever else – he was holding himself in reserve to advise on whatever came up.

  “And when do we give up on bio-containment?” she asked him. “Seal off the front berths and engine room and Eli’s cabins.”

  He sobered, with a huge sigh. “I’d rather get Ben running people through the bio-locks external to the ship. He can hold them in an air-tight tent or something. Separate the bio-locks and loading phases. Cap, the refugees need to decontaminate somewhere, either here or in Waterfalls or Hermitage. And Ben built us a second bio-lock.”