Dremiks (35 page)

“Good to hear status, Lander 1. Data is constant stream.” There was another pause. “Lander 1, did you just shoot out of a thirty-kilometer-high tornado?”

“Certainly felt like one,
Hudson
.”

“Roger Lander 1. Be advised the captain strongly disapproves of a repeat performance of said maneuver.”

Both O’Connell and Mangoda grimaced at that thought. “So do we,
Hudson
, over.”

They looked out the windows and saw a vast expanse of rocky wasteland. The storms they had seen from orbit were dark patches on the horizon.

“Not very pretty, is it?”

“No ma’am, can’t say that it is. I think we need to head north now. We’re nine hundred and sixty kilometers south of the LZ.”

The commander nodded and turned the lander toward the new coordinates.

In orbit far above them, Captain Hill scrubbed a hand across his face. He glanced up when Price said, in an alarmed voice, “Sir, what is
that
?”

Rising above the horizon as a large golden orb, the moon Najif came slowly into view.

“Our adversary, it seems. We’ve seen Najif rise before, Lieutenant. What is the issue?”

“No sir, not the moon,
that
.” Price pointed to the surface of the planet where a massive storm was beginning to form.

The captain leaned forward in his chair and stared in horror. “That, Lieutenant, is big trouble. Get O’Connell on the radio
right now
.”

***

When the massive wall cloud appeared off the starboard side of the lander, Maggie knew they were in serious trouble. The
Hudson
tracked the storm from orbit and advised her on its progress. The entire weather system seemed to be a direct result of the moon Najif’s orbit. To make things worse, the moon V-tay was on a longer orbital cycle that occasionally synchronized with that of Najif. The resulting gravitational and magnetic pulls had created a nightmarish storm of deadly intensity, filled with lightning and falling meteorites.

O’Connell looked at her map and then at the data regarding the incoming storm. “We aren’t going to make it.”

“No, ma’am.” Mangoda indicated a canyon nearby. “That might be a good sheltered spot. Radar return indicates a slight overhang on the western side. It should provide enough coverage from the full brunt of the winds and the meteorites.”

O’Connell radioed their intentions to the
Hudson
as she maneuvered the craft nearer the area Mangoda had indicated. They rounded the rock outcropping and simultaneously winced. The floor underneath the overhang was littered with massive rock spires.

“Lander 1, this is
Hudson
. We show a favorable location six kilometers east of your present location. Advise you locate and land immediately.”

Maggie glanced to the east at the on-rushing storm. “
Hudson
you said east?”

“Roger Lander 1. Show you have no—repeat zero—time for debate. Proceed to following coordinates.”

Fixing the coordinates in their navigational system, she steered the lander to the east. They were staring at a black and green swirling mass of clouds and dust. Before they were within two kilometers of their destination, the radio connection with the
Hudson
began to crackle in and out.

“Mangoda, I need your help eyeballing this. We’re going to be flying blind soon.”

“I think we’re—” He gasped as the lander heaved to port before O’Connell could bring it back level. “I think we’re headed for that dome formation ahead.”

“I hope so, because we’re out of time.” Lightning cracked nearby. The small craft was engulfed in an eerie glow. There was a loud pop before several of the monitors within the ship went black. “Shut down everything else before we lose all the sensors!” She had to shout to be heard over the groaning of the stressed metal hull.

Just as they were descending on the protected left side of the domed rock formation, a slipstream formed. O’Connell corrected for the sudden outward lurching motion. A loud bang reverberated through the lander from the rear. The port engine gave out completely. With only one engine and still fighting the slipstream, Maggie tried to slow their slide into the cliff wall.

She heard two distinct shrieks of pain before the swirling blackness of the storm enveloped them.

Chapter 20

Captain Hill sat in his chair staring at the moon Najif’s shadow as it slowly traversed the planet Dremiks. The planet’s atmosphere, roiling like a boiling cauldron, was impervious to any sensor probes. The ionosphere of the planet seemed to be stretching up to reach Najif, and, in the process, wreaking havoc on the
Hudson’s
orbit and communications.

The entire ship waited, hovering above the last known location of Lander 1. Somewhere down on the planet’s surface were two crew members, their fate unknown. No one felt that worrying uncertainty more than the
Hudson’s
captain. He sat in brooding silence, his finger tapping lightly to a beat heard only in his own head. The bridge crew sensed his barely leashed anger and gave him a wide berth. While he sat, he stared at the view screens and ground his teeth.

The very last transmission from the lander had been a garbled shout and a piercing scream. The sensors were not relaying information. There were no signs of life at all from the lander, and no one knew whether it was a fault on that craft or on the
Hudson
.

The captain massaged a tense muscle in his neck and suddenly realized that Lieutenant Price was still on the bridge.

“Lieutenant,” he snapped. The young man jumped forward in his co-pilot’s seat. “Lieutenant, I will need you rested if,
when
, we send someone after O’Connell. Go get some sleep.”

“Sir, I thought maybe…”

The captain cut him off. “That was an order, Lieutenant, and not open to debate.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Price saluted and left the bridge.

After watching the officer depart, Hill rubbed his neck again. His own exhaustion was quickly degrading his reflexes. He turned to Chief Turner. “I think I’ll take my own advice, Chief. You have the bridge. I want to be notified the moment we are out of this communications void.”

“Yes sir, Captain.” The grizzled veteran nodded at his captain. “She’ll be all right sir. She’s a spunky girl. A little thing like a storm won’t keep her down.”

Captain Hill stopped on his way through the hatchway. “Of course she will be. I ordered her to come back in one piece and she knows better than to disobey an order.”

The chief chuckled. “Just so, sir. I’ll send word as soon as we have communications again.”

***

Dr. Cassie Ruger sat alone staring at nothing. She’d re-packed her medical kit four times and reviewed both Commander O’Connell’s and Specialist Mangoda’s medical files half a dozen times. She was waiting, like the rest of the crew, for any word from the surface of Dremiks. She had tried to sleep, and she had tried meditating—neither helped. With an exasperated sigh, the doctor turned around to her work station. Resigned that sleep was not going to come, she started reviewing the medical data again.

***

Five hours after the crash, Maggie sat on a crate of soil sample collectors trying to decide if her collarbone was broken. She was fairly certain her left shoulder was dislocated, but now the pain was beginning to radiate down and across her chest. With her good right arm she gingerly probed the area around her neck, but it was too painful to examine fully. Some of the pounding pain was likely due to the large bruise on her forehead.

She surveyed the crowded cargo bay around her. Most of the contents of the lander remained secure, but there were wires hanging from an open access port. The steady hissing of a ruptured pressure valve punctuated the screeling wind outside. The wires she had ripped down herself in order to turn the interior lighting back on. At the time, she’d been desperate to find a med kit and hadn’t cared about tearing out anything essential. Now she sat looking at the open hole and wondering if the wires to fix the radio had been damaged while she hot-wired the lights. The storm outside began to taper off, yet she was still unable to contact the
Hudson
.

Looking down at the floor of the lander, Maggie frowned as the room spun slightly. Since she’d awakened, the dizziness had faded, but it was still noticeable enough to make her queasy. Unfortunately, she had little time to really worry about her own medical condition. Her co-pilot was in bad shape. Mangoda’s scalp was split when a piece of the lander’s ceiling panel slammed into his head during the crash. O’Connell could tell there was swelling and also that his arm was broken. She was sure there were internal injuries as well. Moving him from his mangled co-pilot’s chair to the floor of the lander and staunching the flow of blood had been a superhuman effort that taxed her beyond her limit. Now all she could do was to sit very still and try not to move too suddenly herself—and stare at those hanging wires and wonder if the
Hudson
had any idea where they were.

A few minutes later, the commander noticed that the swirling sand and gravel pelting the thick windows of the lander had stopped. There was still the sound of air rushing by, but none of the shrieking that the winds had caused earlier. She leveraged herself up to peer out the port side window. The lander was wedged underneath a rock outcropping, leaning on its starboard side. They seemed to be on a ledge that sloped downward a few feet away from the port side. From her vantage point, all Maggie could see were rocky blue-gray outcroppings and swirling dust. There was not much light, she assumed because the outcropping had a large overhang that blocked the reflected light of Najif and V-tay.

With the storm passing, O’Connell stood a greater chance of getting radio reception. She gingerly shuffled across the lander to the cockpit. The panel that had broken loose and struck Mangoda was hanging by one bolt. She stared at it and debated whether to spend the time—and endure certain pain—pulling it the rest of the way down, or leave it and risk having the thing crash down onto her skull. She finally admitted that the pain involved with moving it would be too great to bear and, with a grimace, turned to the radio.

The first sensor she turned on was really nothing more than a magnetic compass. If the dial spun crazily she would know that the magnetic fields were still too great to risk turning on electrical equipment. When the dial barely moved, O’Connell whispered a silent prayer before flicking the switch for the radar to activate.

The system immediately started “painting” a picture of her surroundings. The image comforted her since the navigational sensors refused to work at all. Even when she finally located and changed two burnt out fuses, the dials and star charts remained black and empty.

With a searing curse, Maggie started to work on the radio. It was only fifteen minutes before she realized that the main radio relay had been severely damaged in the crash. She was fairly certain she could rebuild it, but not quickly enough to suit her needs. While she stood there running through scenarios, Maggie glanced down at Mangoda’s still form and realized that he still had the collar of his flight suit attached. The collar housed all of the biometric sensors that fed data back to the
Hudson
. That system worked on a different frequency and transmitted from a separate, and seemingly undamaged, panel. She might not be able to talk to the
Hudson
, but O’Connell would be able to let them know that help was needed.

***

“Captain?” The young specialist rang the intercom to the captain’s quarters again. “Captain, sir?”

Brett groaned and pried open one eye. He rolled over and stared at the wall display. The ship’s clock showed the time as 0215. He had been asleep for six hours, yet it felt like only fifteen minutes.

“Captain Hill?”

The captain punched the com button. “Yes?”

“Apologies sir, we have started to receive information from the lander. You asked to be notified…”

Hill interrupted, as he bolted upright from his bunk, “I’ll be there in five minutes”

It was only three minutes later that the bridge watch snapped to attention as the captain entered. “Talk to me,” he ordered.

Dr. Fortunas was leaning over a communications station, with Turner at his side. The chief motioned to indicate the display. “Sir, the medical bay started receiving medical data on Specialist Mangoda approximately fifteen minutes ago. The signal was lost twice and each time re-acquired at a stronger level.”

“The storm’s effects are fading,” Fortunas interjected. “We are now able to bounce radio waves back and forth to a communications buoy on the surface. However, there are no radio signals from the lander.”

“But there is progress, sir.” Turner pointed at a radar return reading. “We’re getting interference from the lander’s radar. The data from just before the crash shows Commander O’Connell switching off her radar to keep the array from being fried.”

“So she’s turned it back on?” Hill asked.

The chief exchanged a look with Fortunas. “Well, or Mangoda has. You see, sir, we’re only reading bio signs from Mangoda’s suit.”

The captain felt distinctly and violently ill. “You’re telling me that someone is turning systems back on down there, but you’re only getting vitals from Mangoda?”

Dr. Ruger reached the bridge and came up behind the frowning trio of men. “Well, it is not Mangoda turning on anything. I’ve collected nearly fifteen minutes of data on him now. There’s no way he is moving, much less working down there. My information indicates he’s in a coma with severe injuries.” She shook her head at the captain. “No, I have no data on O’Connell at all.”

“If someone is turning systems back on it has to be her, so at least she is alive and mobile.”

As they were talking another display suddenly began to scroll with information. The captain pointed at it. “That’s wind direction and speed. It looks like she has another system working.”