Stormhaven Rising (Atlas and the Winds Book 1) (53 page)

Maybe she’d be safer outside the blockade,
he thought to himself as he rose out of the creek bed well outside the military perimeter. He’d taken a chance that the units manning the military cordon hadn’t been using their Starlight gear, but still he’d tried to minimize his exposure by staying out of sight. Mica had helped him plan his route, but had only given him a fifty-fifty chance of success.

He hugged the ground and skimmed off to the northwest, heading toward the distant lights of Sanders. He had to hurry if he was going to get back inside before the moon came up and made him visible. He put down in the elementary school’s football field, and waited for his passengers to come running out of the area under the bleachers. He watched them approach, dim shadows against the streetlights. Nichole ran, half-bent over between the two guards, like she was approaching a helicopter. They picked her up onto the deck of the mini and Tom opened the door to let her in. One of the men had already turned and was running back for cover. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“We thought about it,” the one who had remained said, “but you might need some ground intel from the outside so we’re going to set up observation posts in Grants and Gallup, so that we can keep an eye on the railheads.”

“We have satellite access,” Tom said.

“With all due respect, Mr. Stevens,” he said. “There’s a lot to be said for having people at street level. You never can tell when you might have another operation like this one.”

Tom couldn’t argue his point. “Good luck then,” he said.

“We’ll be in touch,” he said, pushing the hatch closed and jumping clear of the deck.

“Mica,” Tom said, “She’s aboard and we’re ready to return. Are we still clear?”

“Stand by,” the computer said. “I am unable to determine if you were detected on the way out.”

***

Camp Kryptonite:

Marquez hadn’t arrived onsite, so Shapiro was still the go-to man when anything happened. He was asleep on the lumpy cot in his office when Agent Schimmel woke him up. “We lost another set of repeaters about three minutes ago,” he said. “A 1.6 gig spike and then flatline.”

“Sounds like they’re flying again,” he said, coming fully awake and sitting up.

“Yes sir,” he said, handing over a cup of coffee and an epad. The screen showed a map with several red X’s marking the location of the dead repeaters. They were a quarter-mile outside the military cordon.

“Shit,” Shapiro swore, heading for the radio on his desk. “How the hell did they get through the line?”

“There’s a narrow ravine right there,” Schimmel said, pointing at a position on the map between two of the 105’s. “That’s the only place I can see where they could squeeze through. If they slid along on their belly, maybe they could have pulled it off.”

Shapiro nodded, clicking his headset into the lasercom system. “We’ve had a breach in the perimeter between ...” he looked at the epad again, “Units A-132 and A-133. Recommend that you check out the arroyo visually and with IR. Post somebody physically in that crack until we can set up an automated observation scanner."

“Roger sir,” The voice of the communications officer said. “I’ll relay the orders around the ring.”

***

Sanders Elementary School, Sanders, Arizona:

Tom sat waiting for Mica to tell him it was all clear. He watched the horizon to the east where the faint glow of the impending moonrise was turning the sky silvery. He glanced at his watch. Moonrise was at 4:32. Less than six minutes. He shook his head. There was no way he was going to make it back and thread through the cordon in six minutes.

“Mica, what’s up?” he asked.

“They have set up an infrared laser in the bottom of the drainage channel you used on your outbound leg. They are also repositioning several vehicles around the position where you exited the ravine.”

“Shit,” Tom hissed, glancing at Nichole who stood against the back wall of the mini, following the conversation without comment. He could tell she understood their dilemma, even without knowing the details.

“I believe I have an alternative that would give you the best possible odds of success,” Mica said, “However, it must be timed to coincide with the Lightning patrol pattern and would involve accelerating at the upward limit of the structural capacity of the mini.”

“And what’s that limit?” Tom asked.

“Approximately 180 meters per second squared,” Mica said. “It is probable that neither of you would suffer irreparable harm, as the duration of the acceleration would be less than six seconds. However, it would be advisable to allow me to control the flight as I doubt you would be able to maintain manual control of the vehicle during the period of acceleration."

Tom looked over at Nichole. “Eighteen G? This thing can do that?” she asked.

“If Mica says it can, it must be true,” he said.

She looked around at the interior. There was only one seat. “I know I can’t do that standing up,” she said.

“Your best position for the acceleration is standing against the back wall of the control cabin. I will control the flight so that the inertial force remains perpendicular to that surface. You should be safe, although it will be uncomfortable.”

Tom glanced at the moon starting to come up over the low hills to the east, then back at Nichole, who nodded her consent. “Do it,” he said.

“Proceed to these coordinates,” Mica said, displaying a location on his control screen. “I will take over at that point and bring you in through the fabrication facility."

Tom eased the mini up into the sky and pointed it toward the spot from where Mica would fly them home.

***

Outside Stormhaven:

Artillery Post 202 was one of the more dull locations around the edge of Stormhaven. Located out in the flats, north of the big hangar where the ships were built. It wasn’t much to look at even with the IR and laser gear. Just a long concrete vault and a set of doors, on the far side of a big open drainage basin.

Corporal Jeremiah Defoe sat in the control bubble of his self-propelled 105, rotating slowly, looking for anything that moved that wasn’t a coyote. They’d just called an alert across the laser ring, so he’d geared up and took his post. What they were watching for wasn’t something that had been relayed with the alert, just anything out of the ordinary.

“I’ve got something, I think,” he said into his intercom mic. He zoomed his IR screen out to the absolute edge of its magnification. It looked like a fuzzy dark patch hanging on the edge of the horizon.
A dark patch? Something colder than the ambient air?

“Hey Garcia,” he hollered out his open hatch at the next unit over. “Do you see that?”

“See what?” the man’s voice came from the distance.

“I’ve got something weird on the deck,” he said. “Bearing 318. Can you confirm?” He heard Garcia’s turret spinning to look in the direction he’d indicated.

“What the hell are you talking about ... Wait a minute, do you mean that dark spot?” he said. “Looks like a fog bank.”

“Yeah, but it’s moving like a bat out of hell,” Defoe said. “Should we call it in?”

“Give me five seconds,” Garcia hollered. “I’m tracking a hard center with my rangefinder. It’s a real target.”

“Hey, does anyone else see the doors opening?” Carson, the corporal stationed on the other side of Defoe hollered. Jeremiah twisted in his seat and looked over his shoulder.

A black line split the hangar doors, barely visible in the dim light. “Looks like it to me,” he said.

“Jesus Christ, here it comes,” Garcia yelled.

Before Defoe could spin back around and look at his screen, a single thundering boom shattered the night. It sounded like somebody had tossed a shell out into the clearing. “Hold your fire,” the Line-Sergeant barked over the laserlink. “What the hell’s going on over there?”

“The doors are closing,” Carson yelled.

“I don’t know what it was, Sarge,” Defoe said. “But I think whatever put us on alert, just decided to come home.”

***

Camp Kryptonite:

“Is somebody shooting out there?” Shapiro asked, jumping up to run out the front door.

“Negative sir, it was a sonic boom,” a voice replied over his comlink.

“From one of our jets?” he said.

“No sir,” one of the pilots said. “We’re at 580 knots. Wasn’t us.”

“Excuse the break in,” one of the military Communications Officers said. “Station A-202 is reporting an unidentified target that just passed overhead. It appears to have gone inside the rear hangar facility.”

“And nobody got a shot off?” Shapiro asked.

“Negative sir.” the Com Officer said. “It went from horizon to inside in under six seconds. Although we’ve got no radar signature, it appeared to pass right behind the Watchdog patrols.”

“Shit,” he hissed. Somehow they’d done it again.

***

Stormhaven:

Viki, Cole and Dr. Winston were standing on the catwalk inside the Fabrication Center when the mini blew through the doors. The wind from its arrival would have bowled Viki over if Colton hadn’t wrapped his arms around her to hold the rail. The doors rolled closed, shutting out the moonlit night in the same instant the thundering boom rattled the building.

Mica brought the inside lights up only after the doors were secured, and Colton vaulted over the railing and onto the cargo deck of the mini before it had completely come into position. Dr. Winston was right behind him. Viki stood back, preferring to wait until the mini was secured against the edge of the catwalk. Cole was jerking the door open and looking inside before she climbed aboard.

“What the hell were you doing outside?” Cole roared as Tom appeared, looking shocked they’d made it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, standing in the doorway and holding himself propped against the hatch seal.

“Mica told us to meet you here,” he said, his voice only slightly more controlled. He was seriously pissed off. “She said you might need medical help.”

“I don’t think so,” Tom said, looking back inside and shaking his head. “Are you ok?” he said to somebody inside.

A woman’s voice behind him said something that Viki couldn’t hear. “Yeah, we’re ok,” Tom said. “It was a bit of a rough ride, but other than feeling bruised, I think nothing’s broken."

Viki could see the form of a woman behind Tom. She was tall and had long blond hair, but her features were obscured by his shadow. He couldn’t have possibly done something this stupid for a woman, could he? She felt a flash of anger tear through her.

Tom stepped out, wobbling. Dr. Winston grabbed his arm to help him keep his balance. “I’m getting too old for heroics,” he said, leaning against the rail beside Viki.

“I should kick your ass,” she said, staring at him.

“That’s ok. Mica took care of that for you,” he said, turning to watch Cole. Viki glanced to where he was looking, shocked by what she saw. Colton had thrown his arms around the woman, and his shoulders were shaking. Was he crying?

“Who’s that?” she said, curiosity overpowering her anger for the moment.

“Viki,” Cole said, wiping his face with the back of a hand. “I don’t think you’ve ever met Nikki.” She recognized the face of Nichole Thompson, the Science Correspondent for GNS.

Tom whispered, “She’s Cole’s daughter.”

***

Some Days You’re the Bug

New Hope Colony Site, Plato:

The sky was beyond black, hauntingly, almost supernaturally dark. So dark that the eyes created colors to fill in the lack of light. Susan stood for several minutes waiting for her vision to adjust, staring in awe at the smear of stars that trailed across the sky like a river of white frost. Barely more than a smudge of illumination that silhouetted the MPL, the edge of the Milky Way gave the Lab the illusion of a hole against the unfathomable, infinite perspective of the universe.

Unexpectedly, the impact of the sky hit her. She reeled in a dizzying moment of vertigo, feeling like she could almost fall off the surface of the moon and float away into the cosmos. A drifting soul in the unimaginable reaches of space.

She shuddered, overwhelmed by the tangible manifestation of her solitude. Alone in a way she’d never imagined, she stumbled forward, flipping on her handbeam. Forcing herself to focus on the ground, she was relieved by the harsh artificial illumination and bright reflection off the pale grey regolith. The small tunnel of light held the primal fear of oppressive darkness at bay, restoring solidness to the tiny world on which she stood.

Coming as a total surprise, her visceral reaction to the lunar night was terrifying and intense, especially considering that she’d spent a week floating in space itself. Though in the ISS and the
Reliant
she’d never been alone. She shook herself, forcing the adrenaline to let go of her by force of will. Her eyes crept up toward the stars, and once again the sky shook her soul with its incredible magnitude.