Escape from the Drowned Planet

by Helena Puumala

  “I’m sure I could round up a few friends to help with anything that ordinary Islanders can do to help,” said Marco. “I know people who would consider it fun.”

  “Trouble is, it might be dangerous fun,” said Mikal softly.

  Marco shrugged.

  “Life is often dangerous, especially when you live on an island.”

  “As it is when you live your life in a ship on an ocean,” added Simos. She turned to the Captain. “Do you mind if I pick a few good members of the crew to assist in this—along with myself, of course? I’m enjoying it already.”

  “Go ahead,” the Captain said. “Anyone who’s off-duty right now.”

  “Well, in that case a division of labour presents itself to me,” Mikal stated thoughtfully. “The Portobay contingent, with Kati and myself, will search for the flyer, using the public bicycles. I imagine that Marco’s friends can come up with some ideas about where we should look. The brawny ship folk are just the people to tackle Guzi and Dakra, and disarm them of their deadly weapons. But good Simos, choose cautious crewmembers for the task; those blasters are deadly. You absolutely don’t want to be fired on!”

  “I’ve disarmed an idiot or two in my time,” said Simos with a wicked grin. “Granted, they were carrying pellet weapons, but those can be pretty deadly, too. And I promise to pick for this job boys and girls who are not rash or foolish.”

  “Now, Marco,” Mikal turned to the Islander. “I seem to recall you saying, when we first met, that you work at The Reclamation Project. Would that have anything to do with the things you people salvage from the city that is now on the ocean floor?”

  “It has everything to do with such things,” Marco replied.

  “Any chance that I could borrow some tools that your Project has reclaimed? I imagine that you people might have some that I can use to break my way into the flyer once we find it.”

  “I’m sure that, under the circumstances, I can get permission to lend you whatever you think might do the trick. I’ll look into it the first thing tomorrow. Maybe we can arrange to meet there in the morning and you can look over what we have.”

  “Excellent! Which reminds me, Simos, that either Guzi or Dakra will have a device, probably a small box-looking item, which they use to unlock the flyer. It’ll be calibrated to be used by one of them, most likely Guzi, so we can’t use it, but it wouldn’t hurt to take it away from them anyway. It might have an alarm that goes off when I break into their machine, or else even have some nasty feature which allows them to blow up the flyer along with me, so naturally I’d rather they didn’t have it when we deal with the flyer.”

  “We’ll get it,” Simos said. “We’ll unload them of anything that looks like that. I’ll bring them to you afterwards, for inspection.”

  “But if we get that, won’t having it be enough for you to ground the flyer?” Kati wanted to know.

  “Unfortunately, no.” Mikal shook his head. “They’ll have a back-up method for accessing the machine, just in case they lose the controller. Such things do happen, you know.”

  Kati thought of all the TV remotes hiding among all the couch cushions on Earth, and laughed.

  “Oh, yes, I know,” she said.

  “It might take them a while to get into the flyer without the controller, but they will manage it if the machine remains intact. Therefore I’ll have to break into it, and damage it enough that they cannot fix it with technology available on this island.”

  “But you think you can do the damaging with the technology available here?” the Captain asked.

  “Breaking machines is always easier than putting them back together,” Mikal replied with a grin.

  “So true.” That sigh was from Marco. “You learn that fact at the Reclamation Project, before you’ve been there for very long.”

  Simos agreed to meet with Mikal and the group she was putting together in Simos’ room later in the evening, to plan the foray on Guzi and Dakra.

  “I think I’m going to call us The Seabird’s Raiders,” she told the rest of them, with a crooked grin at Captain Lomen.

  “It would become you to look serious, Simos,” the Captain chided her. “You’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

  He shook his head in mock exasperation.

  “True,” agreed the First Mate with a hearty laugh. “I do think that this is going to be a great good time. We haven’t had a diversion even close to this interesting in ages. And don’t you men start prattling about the danger involved; a good storm is more dangerous than this, and a lot less fun. Those two won’t know what hit them. Let’s face it, nobody likes them, so we’ll have a free hand with our burglary.”

  “Just do as little damage to their persons as possible,” Mikal said, keeping his tone light. “The way the Federation Peace Officer Corps operates, I’ll lose my next promotion if there are any deaths on my work record.”

  “Now, that is interesting.” Captain Lomen turned to gaze at Mikal. “Is that a policy, or something?”

  “Yes. More than a policy, actually. It’s a condition of being a Member of the Peace Office Corps. We take an oath to do the job without killing sapients, and since we use our nodes to record our assignments, there is no way to fudge the facts from our superiors. We are required to use all of our ingenuity to keep things as non-violent as possible; granted when you’re dealing with criminals as violence-prone as Guzi and Dakra are, a certain amount of force becomes inevitable.”

  “No licence to kill,” Kati subvocalized to her granda. “James Bond he ain’t.”

  “I think I would prefer your James Bond,” the granda subvocalized back to her, testily.

  “Not me,” commented Kati silently. “Besides, James Bond wasn’t real.”

  *****

  The meeting in Simos’ room was a noisy affair. Simos had chosen two men, Dav and Wes, plus the woman, Mila, for her group, The Seabird’s Raiders. When Kati and Jocan accompanied Mikal to the meeting, Mila immediately made a point of telling Simos that she was of the opinion that Jocan should join them.

  “We can use him as bait, Simos,” she said enthusiastically. “You don’t mind being bait, do you, Jocan? They’ll try to snatch you but hey, we’ll grab them, instead, and empty out their pockets after we tie them up like packages!”

  “Mila, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” Simos scolded her. “Not that we couldn’t use the boy.” She looked at Mikal. “Or do you need him for something else?”

  “I don’t think Jocan rides a bicycle, and I think the crew that searches for the flyer is going to do so using bikes,” Mikal said. “So, yes, if you can use him and he is willing, he may as well go with your group.”

  “Good,” said Jocan walking over to sit beside Mila, on Simos’ bed. “I was starting to get worried that I was going to be told to stay out of the way.”

  “Jocan has proven his ability to be useful a few times already,” Kati said, giving the boy an encouraging grin.

  “So Rosine says,” Mila cracked, with a dig at Jocan’s ribs.

  “Okay, Mila, let’s not go there,” Simos said, pinning the crew-woman with her eyes for a moment. “What we’re here for is to form a rough plan of action, so we have some notion of what we’re doing.

  “First of all, are we planning to tackle them in their lodgings, or out on the street, or what? Let’s hear some ideas.”

  “They’re staying at Yacko’s Inn and shopping at the Food Market for their meals, instead of eating at restaurants,” said Wes thoughtfully. “At least, that’s what an acquaintance of mine told me in Huls’ Tavern tonight. He figured that they must be low on coin, and have to be careful with their spending.”

  “What are our chances of finding where their room, or rooms, are, at Yacko’s?” Mila asked, shifting from rowdiness to business in an instant.

  “Yacko won’t tell us. His establishment may not be top-notch, but he, nevertheless, sticks to innkeeper ethics, and takes his customers’ privacy seriously, whether or not he likes the
m,” said Wes.

  “So if we want to tackle them in their lodgings, we’d have to do a bit of spying first,” stated Simos. “Get the maids to talk, maybe.”

  “What if I go to Yacko’s and ask for the whereabouts of Guzi’s room?” Jocan suggested. “After all, he’s made a big deal about looking for me. If I go to the Inn office, and say that I hear that the red-haired man is looking for his son and that I am that son, surely they’ll tell me where to find him. Then I can lead you four to the room; if we pick our time right they should be unprepared to resist.”

  “Yes, it might just work,” Simos said, a slow grin starting to spread across her face. “How about we do it early in the morning while the rogues are still in bed? You’ve just found out that your father is looking for you, Jocan, and you’re very anxious to see him!”

  “Once you have them tied up, search their room for things that are from off-planet,” said Mikal. “You might mention to them, that it has come to the notice of the authorities that they are in possession of off-world goods. And that you have been given the power to confiscate anything such, as they’re too dangerous to have on the Island.

  “Some of that may even be true,” he added with a grin.

  “I guess we should hang on to these crooks for a while,” Simos added cheerfully. “So as to make sure they won’t interfere with the search for the flyer.”

  “That would be useful, if you can swing it,” Mikal agreed. “But have someone, maybe Jocan, deliver the confiscated items to our quarters here in The Seaview. We will all be much safer once I’ve disarmed the blasters—permanently. They are extremely nasty weapons.”

  “Worry not, Mikal. Nobody under my command is going to fool around with deadly shit like that.” Simos looked very serious.

  “What are you going to do with them?” Wes asked curiously.

  “He could always drop them into the ocean from the end of the pier,” Mila suggested.

  Mikal laughed.

  “Not in this town,” he said. “although that trick would probably work anywhere else on this world. These people dive for stuff all the time, remember? The blasters are waterproof. All it would take is for some diver to find one, bring it back up and accidentally kill a friend or two, before realizing how dangerous a thing he is holding. Huh! Gives me the creeps just thinking about it!”

  “But you can do something?” Kati prompted him.

  “Yeah. One of the things I learned during my training as a Peace Officer is how to neutralize a blaster, quickly, efficiently, and permanently. All it takes is know-how; unfortunately those who carry the things around rarely are interested in that know-how.”

  The Seabird’s Raiders, of whom Jocan now was considered a member, agreed to meet shortly after sunrise to set their plan into motion. Mikal was planning to be up and about just as early, in order to do a survey of the tools The Reclamation Project might lend him. On the way back to their rooms he asked Kati if she was willing to brief Marco’s friends, and to find out from them what were the likeliest places to cache a largish vehicle.

  “I can do that, of course,” she agreed readily. “And we can get started on the hunt for the flyer right away, without waiting for you. The sooner we get this finished the better.”

  “I was hoping you’d see it that way.” He beamed a smile at her.

  She was still basking in its warmth when she crawled into her bed half-an-hour later.

  *****

  Marco and his friends were waiting outside the huge complex of the Reclamation Project, at the very end of the street that fronted the port. This was at the outskirts of the town, but still within a reasonable walking distance from The Seaview Inn, and only a short ride by bicycle. Mikal and Kati opted to borrow bikes from the public rack, and ride the distance, after having stopped at a nearby stall which sold breakfast rolls and tea, to grab a quick bite.

  Marco introduced his three pals: Max, Ney and Lita, to Kati and Mikal. Max produced a map of the Sickle Island and spread it on a picnic table that stood on a patch of grass between the Reclamation Project and the rocky ocean shore, while Marco took Mikal with him into the Project. Kati and the other three leaned over the large, detailed map.

  “Here’s the town,” Max said, indicating an area of streets marked on the map. “Here’s the Port, The Seaview Inn would be there, and this is where we are.”

  Kati squinted at the map, acknowledging the indicated points even as she tried to gain an over view of things.

  “It’s pretty hilly terrain,” she commented, indicating the island behind them with her head.

  “That it is,” commented Lita, a compact but athletic-looking young woman. “The question is, does that help us, or hinder us?”

  “What size is this flyer thing anyway?” asked Ney, a tall, gangly young man. “Once we know that we’ll have a better idea as to where it might be hidden.”

  “A flyer is not all that big,” Kati said. “According to Mikal it’s about twice the size of a flit, and I saw one of those”

  She stood up straight, pondering for a moment, and then walked over to a clear patch of grass. She paced the distances on the grass as she continued speaking, approximating the size of a flyer to the best of her ability.

  “It’s oval in shape, maybe three metres long at the longest point, perhaps two metres in width. There’s enough room for two people to sit comfortably with their legs outstretched and to stow a useful amount of gear in with them. The engine takes very little space, and the whole thing is pretty low--” she indicated its height with her hand, “—so as to be aerodynamic and fly better.”

  “That’s actually a pretty big item to hide,” said Max. “Not too many places near the town to stash something that big.”

  “Except that it could be hidden in plain sight,” Kati said with a sigh. “Mikal told me that Guzi and Dakra most likely would have with them what he called a ‘camouflage tarp’. Wrap it around the flyer and it mimics the surrounding terrain; if it’s among rocks, it looks like another rock, or an extension of a cliffside. If it’s in bushes, until you bump into it and bang your shins, you’ll think that bushes is all that there is.”

  “Shit! So how are we going to recognize it?” This was Ney.

  “I guess we’ll bump our shins into it,” offered Lita laconically.

  “According to Mikal,” Kati explained, “it’s possible to see the difference between the concealing tarp and the surrounding area, if you know to look for it. He said that the tarp kind of reflects or repeats its surroundings. Everything looks fine to the casual glance but if you are sharp, you can tell that something is not quite right. That’s when a searcher should reach out a hand and feel the rocks or the bushes, or the grassy knoll, or whatever, and if it feels different from what it looks like, bingo! We’re in business!”

  She moved back to the map on the table.

  “Now,” she commented, her eyes on the map. “Guzi and Dakra walked into town from the flyer, that’s a fact that we know. As far as I’ve been able to tell, they’re in decent shape but not particularly athletic, so I very much doubt that they would have chosen to clamber down any goat paths. So, with that in mind, which are the likely ways into town that they might have used?”

  “That narrows it down a bit,” Max answered. “We should be able to ignore the paths that go up to the wind mills; those are pretty steep. There’s not much flat land in that area anyway, not enough to park a jig the size you’re talking about, even if it can be concealed as you describe. That leaves the two roads into the farmland beyond the Project: this one near the coast and another one here, higher up. Then there are the three roads at the other end of town, going to the vineyards.”

  “I think that the highest one of those we can ignore, at least until we’ve scoured the other roads,” said Lita. “The grape plants up there grow on trellises along the mountain side, and the road is a road only in name. There might be places to stash the machine if it’s possible to make it look like another bunch of vines, but it’s a p
retty long, arduous trek into town on foot.”

  “How do the wine makers get their goods into town?” Kati asked curiously.

  There seemed to be no runnerbeasts in Portobay; perhaps there were none on the whole island. Without those versatile animals she was not quite sure how burdens were moved.

  “Oh, some of us are really good at hauling loads on carts behind the bicycles,” Ney answered her. “Actually, that’s what I do when I’m at work.”

  Kati gave him a long appraising look. She realized as she did so that the young man’s body was well-muscled in spite of his appearance of tall awkwardness.

  “In that case I’m glad you’re with us,” she said. “I bet you can cover a lot of ground, fast.”

  Ney laughed.

  “Yeah, I can.” It was a statement of fact, not a boast.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  They decided to try the farmland on the Reclamation Project side of the town first. They split into two groups: Lita seemed to be keen to accompany Max, so Kati paired up with Ney, hoping fervently that she would be able to keep up with him.

  She need not have worried. Once all four of them were on bicycles, and Lita and Max had headed towards the more costal of the two target roads, Ney proved to be a gentleman who did not try to push the rather sedate pace that Kati chose to keep. Outside of town, when it was time to begin scanning for Guzi’s machine, she slowed her pace even more in order to carefully eye the countryside on her side of the track. Ney was doing the same with the other side of the road, but, fortunately, crops having been brought in some time ago, there was not much traffic on the road, and, mostly, they had it to themselves.

  Whenever they did meet a passerby, or were overtaken by another cyclist, they would hail the traveller and ask him or her if anyone had noticed any oddities along the road. Oddities, such as the sudden appearance of new bushes besides ones already there, or a crevice among rocks having disappeared, in the past week or so. However, no-one reported anything like that to them, and they continued their slow travel until Ney judged that they had gone for about five kilometres.