Project U.L.F. (33 page)

“Well?” Wyatt asked.

“Well they’re all dead, if that’s what you mean.”

“And the radio?”

“Dead too. Electrical short by the look of it.”

“Damage?”

“Pretty bad. She crashed with some force so she’s crumpled all down the other side.”

“Mmmm.” Wyatt had thought as much. “That’s not a problem, as long as we can get her into space. We could pretty much fly a bucket in space. It’s just a question of how much that’ll affect her aerodynamics in an atmosphere.”

Par shrugged. “Can’t say…And I couldn’t tell you how that hull’s going to stand up to pressure.”

Wyatt nodded, understanding the implications of what the other man said. After a pause he asked, “Any idea what happened?”

Par looked uncomfortable, considering the question. “Yeah, but…look, why don’t I come down and discuss it with you? I don’t want to be up here longer than I really need to be.” It was a reasonable request, but Wyatt suspected that Par was using it as an excuse, that maybe he did not want to air his conclusions in public.

Ten minutes later, after Par had gingerly lowered himself back down the rope, the two men stood facing each other.

“So what’s the story?”

“That’s hard to say,” Par began. “What I saw up there just doesn’t make any sense.” He stopped and took a look around them at the others’ expectant faces. “Can we discuss this in private?”

“Oh come on!” moaned Chris, “What could you possibly say that’s worse than what we’ve already been through?”

Par looked expectantly at Wyatt, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I think. Judging by the damage I’ve seen up there I’d say that the shuttle was traveling at a reasonable speed when it crashed. When I say that, I mean, it was traveling sideways. Now most of you will know that these things lift off vertically, which makes it look like the shuttle was hit by something. It’s like…it’s like something just swatted it out of the sky.”

“What?” Chris choked. “That’s insane! That’s fifty tons of maxi-shuttle. What are you talking about?”

“Hey!” Par snarled. “You wanted to know what I thought!”

“Okay, okay. Let’s calm down, shall we? We’re all just a bit uptight right now.” Wyatt interjected to diffuse the situation.

“You saw the size of that thing in the lake,” Kate said quietly, her mind wandering back to their encounter three days before. Chris’ face went ashen. Maybe it wasn’t such a ridiculous hypothesis after all, and if it wasn’t ridiculous, it was terrifying that they could seriously be contemplating the possibility that was what had happened.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” It was Byron who had spoken and they turned to face him. There was an unfamiliar tiredness in the voice which was reflected in his craggy features. It seemed he was resigned to the fact that nothing about this already failed mission was going to be easy. Maybe it was his tone of voice that struck a chord with everyone. They could all imagine the thoughts that troubled the veteran, thoughts that he had not given voice to. They were thoughts that they all shared—that here, they had potentially found their ticket home and yet the reality of that was still so far away.

“Well,” said Par, trying to put a hint of optimism in his voice, “We gotta get that thing out of the tree.”

They all cast their eyes back towards the battered shuttle. Nobody said a word.

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The black bag tumbled end over end, crashing its way through the branches until it landed with a sickening thud. Wyatt did not see it but heard it fall. He stopped digging and straightened, resting an arm on the handle of his shovel and wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked back towards the tree and heard Par call, “That’s the last of them.” Beside him, Kit continued to dig, removing great scoops of the dry reddish-brown soil and depositing them on an ever growing mound of the same next to him.

It was his turn to go and collect the body. To drag or carry the dead weight to where they now worked and lay it alongside the other nine they had removed from the shuttle. He cast his eye at the improvised cross jammed in the earth next to the hole the pair of them had excavated. It was two pieces of wood, bound together with a vine. Somehow it didn’t seem enough. These nameless individuals all had someone who cared about them somewhere, and, Wyatt realized, after learning what fate had been meant for him and his crew, the friends and relatives of those that they were now laying to rest would probably never learn the full truth of what had happened to them. The crucifix irritated him, partly because he knew that no creature of this world that might happen upon this spot would ever understand the significance of it, and partly because it was highly unlikely that anyone who would understand what it meant would venture this way again. It was a symbol, nothing more, and yet somehow he was expected to take some comfort from the fact that they had erected it. That in doing so he was visibly demonstrating compassion for his fellow humans. He did not feel compassion. Only anger. He was angry for those who had died and those who would never know the truth about what had happened here, and he was angry at those who were responsible. He thrust the shovel into the ground, venting his emotions, but it found no purchase in the dry soil and fell over all the same. Kit looked around at him in surprise but Wyatt was already picking his way out of the grave on the way to collecting his grim burden.

At dusk they performed a service for the men and women they had never known. It was short, as most services were. Few people needed or wanted reminding of mortality or the frailty of the human frame. Despite the discovery of numerous food rations on board the crippled craft they picked at their food and ate mostly in silence. The glow from the fire was the only thing to bring color to their cheeks on this solemn day, and the snaps and cracks of the burning wood punctuated the night.

“So who’s going to fly the shuttle with you?” Kate’s voice cut through the silence. Wyatt looked up from the food he had been idly pushing around his plate.

“No one. I’m going to fly it on my own. Why risk more people than we have to?”

Kate laughed. “We may as well not bother, then. If you try and fly that thing on your own then none of us will be going home.”

“Are you questioning my ability?” Wyatt asked, offended.

“Not as a pilot, no. But anyone who knows anything about shuttlecraft knows that you need two pilots to fly a maxi-shuttle.” The others looked up from their half-finished meals, their minds grateful of something to pay attention to, even a brewing argument.

“They were a victim of their own design,” she continued by way of explanation, “Brilliant, but they incorporated too many systems. It’s just too much for one pilot to handle. Fortunately they built a co-pilot’s seat, which is standard for any spacecraft, but that position became a second pilot’s seat in the case of the maxi-shuttle.”

Wyatt looked around sheepishly at the others and was pleased to see his surprise mirrored in their faces. Byron just gave him a knowing nod. Chris sat staring at Kate, jaw dropped, mouth wide open, as if he had just fallen instantly and profoundly in love with her. Wyatt realized he’d had his bluff called. It was time to turn the tables back on Kate.

“Why? Are you volunteering, then?” he asked.

“Okay. Why not?”

He smiled, sardonically. “Yeah, right.”

“Got any better offers?”

He looked at Byron, who was already shaking his head. “I’m not a shuttle pilot. You forget, us mere trappers don’t get to fly the executive ships. When you became head of the U.L.F. division, that automatically made you one of the IZP executive and that’s when you got trained to fly shuttles. I can’t fly shuttles. Expedition craft, yes, but not shuttles.” Wyatt’s smile faded. Thinking about it he realized what Byron said was true.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, then. You got a problem with that?” Kate quizzed him again. Her insistence irritated him. What stunt was she trying to pull here? His face showed the frustration.

“Well…” he started, and then hesitated. “…Yeah,” he finished bluntly. “What makes you think you can fly it and how come you know so much about shuttles anyway?”

“Heard of Triple F?” Wyatt pulled another face and shook his head. “Frere Freight Forwarding,” she informed him. “It’s my father’s company, he started it up a couple of years before I was born. When the CSETI first upgraded their maxi-shuttles he brought five of their old surplus that would have been scrapped and went into business. I guess he saw a niche in the market. He wasn’t really moving freight as such, more like personal artifacts. I guess he figured getting posted to the moon-base or Mars colony posed the same problems as packing for a holiday; you’re bound to forget something. He advertised and sure enough, there were loads of people who wanted stuff shipped up to the moon or Mars or to and from the space stations in between. He used to run the major trade routes between the three planets to begin with but now he ships stuff well outside the solar system.”

“What’s your point?” Wyatt asked. Kate looked wounded by the interruption.

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Well
,” she continued, drawing out the word to indicate her indignation. “When I was young, my father would often take me with him on flights and as I grew older he’d sometimes let me take the controls. By the time I got to college I was pretty much capable of flying them and I’d always work for the business during the holidays. If times were lean he’d even get me to co-pilot for somebody sometimes. I can fly these things. I don’t have a formal qualification or license to do it, but I can fly them.”

“Your father let you fly his ships, and you don’t have a license? That’s got to be illegal.”

“Jesus!” Kate spat out the expletive with exasperation, rolling her eyes skywards. “Sometimes you’re so…so…” she held out her hands as if to catch the word she was looking for, “…Male!” She almost shouted it at him, and even Byron looked taken aback by her fervor. “Let me put it to you like this,” she said. “I can fly that thing. If we don’t fly, we die. I really don’t think credentials are an issue here for anyone.” She stopped and stared at him, her anger bubbling just under the surface.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

She nodded and seemed to calm at his admission. “I just want to go home,” she said, and he could see in her eyes that she was dreaming of a place far away from where they were. Furball jumped into her lap and chittered, following the movement of her head with its own. It seemed the animal somehow knew when Kate was upset.

“How’s Bobby?” Par asked, quickly changing the subject. Chris knew exactly how she was but was prompted by the question to turn and check on his patient again all the same.

“A little better. She’s still unconscious but her temperature has fallen a little which is a good sign. Another day or two and…?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know who is luckier,” Par said, “Us or her. I mean here we are having to fight every step of the way and she just lies there in blissful ignorance.”

“That’s a bit unfair,” Chris said defensively, and then he shook his head as if he too had no answer for that question. “Anyway, who knows what’s going on inside her mind?”

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Bobby’s world was orange. She had vague recollections of a blue sky and a shadowy figure moving about over her but now that seemed like a long time ago. Such a long time ago. That world had gone, the color draining from her vision until the picture she saw was composed of a myriad of grays. Then, they too had faded, the outlines of things she recognized became blurred and indistinct and eventually everything went black. She was unaware that unconsciousness had come to claim her and placed her in its vacuum of time and space, for in her own mind she was still very much alive. She felt as if she were falling. How long? She had no idea. It seemed an age. It was not an unpleasant feeling. Not a death-defying plummet into the unknown. More a gentle sensation, like this blackness was composed of something other than air, something which eased her gradually to what lay below. The only thing that slightly perturbed her was that she was alone.