Rise of the Valkrethi

by Warwick Gibson

  “Thank you, Neuman,” said Cordez, putting a personal note in the exchange. “I think we’ll all feel a lot better when we know how they are.”

  “Cagill out,” said the Air Marshall gently, his feelings the same.

  The rescue shuttle came in low over the bombed out remains of the accelerator complex, and Ayman could see it was already being reclaimed by the savage weather of the ice planet. The open top of the complex sported strangely coloured icefalls, and deep drifts of snow.

  It was a short trip from the complex to the depot, and the shuttle landed on a flat field of ice nearby. The rescue party clambered over the uneven slag of what was left of the depot, and set up sonic sounders to probe the rock. It wasn’t long before they’d worked out where the heat exchanger shaft was.

  The next step was to clear away the rubble that was covering it. That didn’t take long, but then things moved more slowly. A little caution was required as the diggers got closer to the shaft itself.

  “We’ve cut away the top end of the shaft,” said MacEnroy some time later, reporting by comms to Cagill. He was the most experienced mining engineer among the Javelin crews.

  “It looks fairly clean in the shaft itself, as if limited amounts of debris broke through the top of the shaft when the place was bombed. I’ll let you know when we get signs of life.”

  MacEnroy picked up a compound delaminator and scooped out more of the crumbling steel and slag, before peering down into the blackness. The work wasn’t easy in the bulky suits, but it didn’t take long for the rescue team to widen the hole and follow the rungs down. Then they came to a plug of melted steel and rock that sealed off the rest of the shaft.

  “Ingenious,” muttered MacEnroy to himself. “Heat cutters on top of the isolation doors. It looks like it worked, too.

  “This will take time,” he said to Ayman, as they examined the uneven surface. The Squadron leader had insisted on joining the shuttle on its rescue mission.

  “Because you don’t want to drop bits of the plug on top of the accelerator staff?” said Ayman, and MacEnroy nodded.

  “We’ll go round it,” he said. “That way we can enter the shaft from the sides, which is safer for them. It will be quicker too.”

  Ayman asked him what he meant.

  “The rock around the sides is a lot softer than the isolation doors,” said MacEnroy, and turned back to supervise his team. Several of them had begun to move in with more of the delaminators.

  “These will break up the crystalline structure of the rock and reduce it to a soft gravel,” he said to Ayman, as soon as the team was underway.

  “Once we’ve tunnelled past the doors we’ll let them know we’ve arrived, and then we’ll enter the shaft from the sides. Very slowly!”

  Ayman nodded his approval.

  MacEnroy didn’t have to let the accelerator staff know the rescue team had arrived. The Mersa, with their keen hearing, had already picked up faint noises from above them.

  “They’re here!” squeaked Serostrina, her voice going too high for the ears of most of the Humans in her excitement.

  Another of the Mersa pressed a recorder to the wall, and it, too, picked up vibrations coming through the rock. Sebastian cradled Ereth and motioned to Serostrina to read the engineers medical stats. She shook her head.

  “Barely registering,” she said sadly.

  There had been enough sadness already that day. One of the Mersa had died, flung against the wall as the standing wave collapsed, and sustaining lethal head injuries.

  Ereth moved weakly, and then collapsed against Sebastian. Sebastian looked up sharply, and Serostrina looked at the medical stats once more. The look on her face told him that Ereth had died at that precise moment.

  “Dammit” he exploded. “If he could have held on just a little longer!”

  Serostrina placed both her hands over his. One of Sebastian’s friends came over and went to lift Ereth away and seat him against the wall, but Sebastian motioned him away.

  The old man had given up his life trying to save the rest of them – at least he had that as a crowning achievement to a full life, he thought fiercely. He wanted to hold the old man, and grieve.

  Serostrina moved away to check on the injuries of several others in the shaft, and Sebastian was left with his own thoughts, thoughts of someone who had made a difference to a lot of people during his long life.

  CHAPTER 14

  ________________

  The Human and Mersa refugees in the shaft waited patiently to be rescued. Then the Humans could hear the sounds of progress outside the shaft, as well as the Mersa. Finally the sounds were level with the make-shift floor. Then a series of warning taps came from Sebastian’s left.

  The accelerator staff near that area moved back. There wasn’t much room in the shaft, with half of them sitting on the rough hammocks along one side. Now there was standing room only.

  Then a small section of the shaft collapsed, crumbling away to minute particles as it did so. There was a grating hum, and the Mersa, with their more sensitive hearing, put their hands over their ears. Once the rescue team had verified the area was clear, they reduced the rest of the wall to gravel, and stepped through into the shaft.

  “Am I glad to see you folks!” said Ayman Case. Then he noticed the subdued moods of Human and Mersa alike, and stopped what he was about to say. One of the engineers took him aside and told him they had lost the accelerator team supervisor, and one of the Mersa. He also detailed the injuries of the others.

  It was a sombre party that entered the shuttle once they had exited the shaft. Ayman knew that the news of their survival would be tinged with sadness.

  Later that day Cagill relayed the news to Cordez.

  “There’s never a win without losses,” said Cordez distractedly, lost in his own thoughts about the attrition of war.

  Cagill stayed silent. He was used to his boss’ absent-minded ruminations. But he understood what Cordez meant. Even if a cause was morally right, there was always going to be a cost to carry the day.

  The Valkrethi pilots had a stand-down period after their activities at the ice planet. The psychologists were keeping a close eye on them, especially Celia and her research team. They were waiting for them to acclimatise once again to a ‘normal’ life.

  Celia stood and stretched. She had been reading material from the Rothii archive on Ba’H’Roth for most of the morning. She thought about the page she was on for a moment, and entered a few brief notes into her pocket recorder.

  Life on Prometheus was dull after the excitement she had felt taking the Valkrethi out against the Reaper ships. The others in the research team were saying the same thing. Putting your life on the line for something you believed in was addictive – it was an addiction they would all have to watch carefully.

  “You-all are invited to a barn dance Saturdee night,” said a voice over the Prometheus comms system. Someone was trying to impersonate a mid-western accent. Celia smiled. That was probably Millie, the North Am girl who was secretary for MacEwart. She was always looking for a reason to get everyone together, and it hadn’t been long before she was made ‘social events organiser’.

  “Melda at recyclables has a print and texture pattern for farm overalls, just bring an old one-piece worksuit along and she’ll put it through the machine for you. Ladies, you can have tassels and trimmings, there’s quite a selection of options.

  “You will probably need to wear something under the overalls,” she continued mischievously, “though a perfectly straight back at all times could see decorum preserved. Just remember not to lean forward, unless you want the guys on either side to take a much more enthusiastic interest in you!”

  She broke off into peels of laughter.

  Celia shook her head. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to get away with it, but the whole base seemed to accept Millie’s antics. Celia had to admit it was a welcome relief from the long days and intense work at Prometheus.

  “So, make a note somewher
e to come along this Saturday night,” continued Millie, “and don’t leave your overalls to the last minute. Melda’s busy enough without you all turning up at once. This is your sa-oh-oh-oh-shul sec-rah-tery over and out!”

  Celia paused for a moment. She remembered the way Sallyanne had talked about the need for someone special in her life, and the way she had pushed her to make more of an effort. This was an ideal time for Sallyanne to do just that.

  Further down the hall, behind the partitions that gave each of the research team a little work privacy at Prometheus, Sallyanne was thinking the same thing.

  “Preliminary investigations suggest the Druanii have an archetypal memory, indicating extensive dream sequences. . .” said the audio report on her desk. It was from a psychologist in another department. She reached over and switched it off.

  Barn dance . . . Saturday . . . she thought. But she couldn’t, she was snowed under with work!

  Then some part of her rebelled. Dammit, wasn’t Finch always telling them to put aside some regular time for themselves? He was right, too.

  She made a decision – she would go to the dance.

  Her mind threw up pictures of some of the Prometheus staff that she had fancied over recent months. Sometimes she couldn’t see the connection herself, but her body definitely tingled around some of the men. Oddly, she felt uncomfortable around others. It was all rather strange, and always confusing.

  One of the starship technicians came to mind. He was a dark, brooding Lothario who seemed to be attractive to most of the women. Unfortunately he was also obsessed with his work, and talked mostly in grunts.

  A shiver built up in her spine and suddenly transferred itself to her hips before earthing in the chair. She gasped. He was definitely a bad choice, she would have to exercise some willpower there.

  She wrenched herself back to the audio file. “Work during the week, men on Saturday!” she repeated firmly several times. Er, man on Saturday, she corrected herself. She had always found one of them was more than enough trouble in any woman’s life.

  Then she remembered Roberto. She had promised herself – somewhere deep in space when she’d been sick of her own company – that she would make a play for him when she got back to Prometheus. Yes, he was a much more suitable choice. Not as exciting, but someone you could have a really good conversation with.

  “Work on weekdays!” she commanded herself again, and then sighed. It was going to be a long, long time until Saturday at this rate.

  But then at last, to Sallyanne’s relief, Saturday did arrive.

  She bumped into Andre and Jeneen as the couple entered the large lounge in front of the research team sleeping quarters. The three of them joined forces and headed for the cafeteria, where they had been told their ‘down home on the farm’ experience would begin.

  Sallyanne laughed at Andre’s farmhand get up. Jeneen had added extra touches to his overalls and set his hair in a simple roughed-up style, complete with lifelike twigs and bits of grass. Sallyanne would easily have taken him for a subsistence farmer from some backwards place on Earth.

  The inside of the ‘barn’ was about as realistic as you could get. The wooden supports intrigued a number of the Human guests who had never seen such a thing before. For the Mersa it was part of their culture of using natural materials, and didn’t rate a second glance.

  The barn was actually part of the huge stores and parts warehouse, but you got there through a long tunnel from a newly created entrance off the cafeteria. Stepping into the unknown added to the excitement, and the sense of mystery.

  Celia was already inside, talking to an older man Sallyanne didn’t know. Then she noticed Roberto in a corner with a few of the Javelin pilots. Sallyanne’s heartbeat picked up, and she rubbed her hands nervously.

  This was no good, she told herself, and made a conscious effort to calm down. The best thing she could do would be to get something to eat, and maybe a drink – just one, she warned herself – and settle in for a bit of a gossip with the girls. She would see what talent there was among the men later, when she felt more relaxed.

  It wasn’t long before the dancing started. It had been one of Millie’s first ideas as social secretary to start dance classes, and they’d been well attended. She hadn’t tried for anything too complicated, sticking mostly to the simpler couples’ dances.

  She had also stuck to those that involved some form of touching. It got everybody mixing properly, and for the single women it was an opportunity to decide whether they liked the way they were being held or not. Millie knew from her own experience just how important this was.

  Sallyanne sat out the first two dances, and then ventured onto the floor with one of the technicians that worked in her research area. She knew she was making a safe choice. He was junior to her on the staff, and she wasn’t interested in him emotionally. Sometimes you know too much about the way people interact, she chided herself.

  Still, that dance settled her down, and she moved on to Roberto when it was over. She took his glass out of his hand and set it down on the table, then steered him firmly toward the dance floor. She smiled to herself at his bewildered look. She would be sweet and accommodating later, but right now she felt more like a lioness, proud of her hunting skill.

  Once he’d got used to the unexpected attention, Roberto seemed to think it wasn’t a bad idea. He warmed to his role, and was soon finding her somewhere to sit, and checking that she had enough to eat and drink. For a while they chatted with others they knew, when they weren’t dancing, but when Roberto suggested they sit in a small alcove by themselves, Sallyanne agreed.

  “It’s such a busy life,” Roberto was saying. “You feel selfish if you take time out from what Prometheus needs for Earth to survive, but on the other hand you can’t drive yourself forever or you’ll start making mistakes in your work.”

  “Yes,” said Sallyanne, “and if you do find yourself in a relationship you wonder how long it will last because you can’t plan any time together, and all you can do is grab moments when you can.”

  “My point exactly!” said Roberto, relieved Sallyanne understood his very male concern that a woman somehow needed a certain amount of a man’s time or she would drift away.

  A more predatory gleam appeared in his eye. If Sallyanne would countenance an on-again, off-again relationship, dictated by work and circumstances, he wouldn’t say no. She would be a rewarding addition to his life here at Prometheus, and she did look particularly fine tonight. She could be quite fetching when she put her mind to it.

  Sallyanne smiled to herself as she watched him work out the details. He wasn’t a complicated man, and she had deliberately set out to make things easy for him.

  Now he could see that the obstacles to a relationship had been removed from his path, Roberto was taking a decidedly other than professional interest in her. She didn’t miss the quick glance that ran down her dress and took in her waist and the round curve of her hips either. He was getting interested all right!

  It was turning into a very interesting evening.

  CHAPTER 15

  ________________

  Roberto and Sallyanne were reluctant to move from their cosy little nook when supper was announced, but they needed something after all that dancing. Working round the outside of the large crowd, they made their way to the spread at the other end of the ‘barn’. They were chatting as they went, and sometimes fielding banter from friends.

  The research team met up at one end of the long supper table. Andre and Jeneen were flushed from an energetic bout of La Geordia, a classical dance of the last century that had brought them enthusiastic applause on the dance floor. Celia was still with the older man she had met when she first arrived, and now she waved him off to an early night.

  Geelong had piloted the research team to the Rothii archives on Ba’H’Roth. Now he came to join them, dragging a shy comms technician along with him. His outgoing manner and her gentle silence couldn’t have been more of a contrast, but the way
she clung tightly to his arm, and he paid her every attention, showed that some sort of chemistry was at work.

  Sallyanne and Roberto were the last to arrive, and were given a royal welcome. Their sudden interest in each other, after working together for so long, wasn’t all that unexpected. It had always been something of a tradition to keep love affairs ‘in house’.

  The social occasion was working, and Sallyanne looked around at a lot of people who looked more relaxed than they had for a long time. Celia, though, still looked as if she was carrying her workload on her shoulders.

  How vulnerable she is, thought Roberto, touched by the way his close colleague and dear friend didn’t really seem to be benefitting from the evening’s festivities. Oh, she had explained many times that she was ‘married to the job’, but that didn’t seem right.

  Other people found time for someone special in their lives. She’d said it was important to be proud of her work, and that meant giving it one hundred percent. But Roberto was beginning to think she had a level of conscientiousness that was out of control.

  Then Finch commandeered the sound system, and turned their attention upward. The ‘roof’ rolled back, and a thousand synthetic stars shone from the dome of the huge stores and parts cavern. They were larger than life, and looked much closer than they ever did on Earth. The show drew gasps of admiration. Then Finch made a circular ‘wind it up’ signal to someone behind him, and the real show started.

  Fireworks sprang into the air from all sides. The show was false, of course. It was an electronic light and sound mix second to none, but the partygoers couldn’t tell it from the real thing.

  There were shouts of admiration, and applause after each wave of light and drumbeat of rolling thunder. The show went on for a long time. Then, suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

  When the last of the applause had died down, Jeneen was the first to speak.