Chapter 26
[Friday, 12 Feb 2010, In a ravine north of the ruins of Mars Base, 1358
hours]
"Aw, dammit!" David bellowed, hauling back hard on the landing strut
he had commandeered for use as a crowbar. The jagged flap of metal he was
prying on bent slightly, then a little more, peeling back with agonizing
slowness. David wrenched on the strut again and again, hard, his arms trembling
from the effort, his injured chest shrieking in protest. Finally, with
a final explosive grunt, he pried the metal tongue back far enough to expose
the panel beneath. "God, it's about time." he wheezed, trying hard not
to breathe too deeply, lest his chest begin aching more than it already
was.
He tossed the warped strut aside and kneeled down beside the small access
panel. Careful to avoid tearing his suit on any jagged metal, David popped
open the panel - exposing the small handle beneath. He reached down, grasped
the fluorescent red bar, and pulled. There was a quick series of dull thuds
as explosive bolts were activated. The battloid's head twisted and fell
away, exposing the pilot compartment below.
David quickly clambered up to the opening and peered into the smoke-filled
interior. He could barely make out a figure strapped into the seat, staring
back up at him, a self-adhesive suit patch in one hand. "Lauren?" He held
his breath, waiting for her to move, to acknowledge his presence. After
an agonizingly long moment, Lauren raised a trembling hand and waved at
him, feebly. David waved back, his vision blurring. <Thank God.>
He grasped a guide-rail and pulled himself headfirst into the compartment.
"Now all we have to do is get you out of this thing."
[Monday Feb 12 2010 - In a ravine north of the ruins of Mars Base,
1415 hours]
"Ouch! Hey, that hurts!"
David sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's not easy getting you out of this
damned wreck without twisting or pulling on your wounds." He glanced down
at the numerous emergency patches that Lauren had applied to her suit.
Too many, David noted before continuing. "Besides, would you rather stay
around here?"
"Definitely not!" she blurted. "Those aliens might decide to come back
and check out their handywork."
"My thoughts exactly."
"You could at least try to be a bit more gentle about it."
"I'm being as gentle as I can, Lauren." He wrapped his arms around her.
"Now grab my arms and hang on. Let's see if we can get you out of this
thing."
Lauren's voice was subdued. "I'm glad you're alive, David."
"So am I. And I'm glad that YOU'RE alive. I just wish you two
had done as I ordered you to, instead of trying to play rescue party."
He sighed, then flashed her a quick smile. "But at least we're together.
I'm sure we'll figure something out."
"Yeah... do you think Tony made it?"
"I hope he did." he replied honestly, an image of Tony's smiling face
appearing in his mind's eye. "No... I KNOW he did." He shuddered.
"Enough of that, now. Let's get you out of this thing. Ready?"
She gripped his shoulders with a remarkable strength. "No, but let's
try it anyway."
"Okay, here we go." He made sure he had a good grip on her and began
inching his way back out of the pilot's compartment. After several minutes
of crawling, pulling, three small tears in Lauren's suit and a painful
cramp in his leg, David emerged onto the battloid's shoulders, a weary
Lauren cradled in his arms.
"Are we finished yet?" Lauren whispered breathlessly.
Heaving a deep sigh, David chuckled. "Almost. Almost. There's one thing
I have to check first." He eased her out of his arms and double-checked
the patches on both of their suits. All were holding wonderfully. He laid
a hand on her shoulder. "How you feeling?"
"Like I just got shot out of the sky."
"Lauren..."
"I'm fine, dad. Just a few tiny holes, and a little light-headed. That's
all."
He looked at her pale face for a moment. Something was nagging him,
but he couldn't figure out what. "You gonna be alright if I leave you alone
for a minute or two?"
"Yep." She patted him on the arm. "Now go do what you gotta do so we
can get the hell out of here!"
He hesitated a moment, still unsure. "Okay. Be back in a second." Easing
himself back into the pilot's compartment of Lauren's shattered battloid,
David crawled down to the torn and blood-stained seat. He scrambled over
the seat, searching for the emergency survival kit stashed beneath. There
was a lot of blood pooled beneath the seat, blood that he hadn't noticed
when he pulled Lauren out of the wreck. David winced at the sight. <Good
God, Lauren. You are NOT doing "fine." And those wounds might still
be bleeding.... damn!>
He quickly located the kit and tugged it free. There was a ragged gash
in the side of the kit. <Damn!> Pulling himself upright, he opened
the kit and rummaged through the contents. Two cans of water - one ruptured,
one intact. Three M.R.E. packets. <Why am I not surprised that the
MRE's would survive?> A small flashlight. Signal flare gun. First aid
kit. <Thank God it's still intact.> 9 millimeter pistol. <What
the hell good is a pistol against a forty-foot tall alien?> He rooted
around some more until he came up with a small emergency locator beacon.
"Ah ha!" he cried aloud. Turning the olive-drab beacon over in his hands,
David couldn't help but spot the crack - a crack that extended nearly all
the way around the casing. <Damn, damn, damn, damn!> He stared
at the damaged beacon for several moments. "Please, please work." He thumbed
the mode selector to the "transmit" position. "Please."
There was a bright spark visible through the jagged crack, and the beacon
began to smoke. "You damned friggin' piece of crap!" he screamed, thumbing
the mode selector back to the "off" position. Sorely tempted to throw the
beacon against the instrument panel, at the last moment he reconsidered
and stuffed the broken device back into the survival kit. He squeezed his
eyes closed and tried desperately to come up with some way to save the
two of them. The first aid kit would help Lauren out for a while, but they
weren't any closer to getting back to the ship. Try as he might, he couldn't
think of a single thing to fix that particular problem. He shuddered, suddenly
very cold. "Now what?" he asked the empty cockpit, hoping that it would
answer him.
[Friday, 12 Feb 2010 - In a ravine north of the ruins of Mars Base,
1446 hours]
"Just where exactly are we going?" Lauren asked quietly, her voice slightly
muffled.
David glanced at her as she leaned against him. <I have absolutely
no idea.> "Back towards the base. We might be able to find a working
radio there." <I think.>
"The base?" she responded, her voice incredulous. "They blew the base
up, David."
"They what?" David stopped short. "Why?"
She shrugged. "I guess it's how they managed to get away from all the
aliens. Remember when they ordered us to lure the enemy onto the base?"
He nodded silently. "Well, after you went down, we got another message
saying that the base was going to blow, and to stay clear."
<It figures.> David shook his head. "Wonderful."
"We still going that way?"
He thought a moment then stepped off again, supporting Lauren as she
staggered along beside him. Even with Mars' lower gravity, it was rough
going for the both of them. "Yeah, we are. We might be able to find a wrecked
Valk or something with a functioning radio. Or a working locator beacon."
<Or something.....please God, let us find something.>
"Oh, okay." She was silent for a few moments. "Uh, David?"
"Yeah?"
"We have a more immediate problem here." She lifted up her arm and tapped
the oxygen guage on her wrist-band.
David closed his eyes. "I know. Three hours left." "
That's not enough to get us to the base, is it?"
David weighed his options, decided on the truth. "No, it's not. But
we have to try."
She nodded slowly. "That's what I thought you'd say."
Together, the two of them staggered southwards, through the twisting
maze of ravines and valleys.
[Friday, 12 Feb 2010 - Base of the cliffs north of Mars Base, 1651
hours]
David glanced at his oxygen gauge. <Damn. Fifty-two minutes left.>
He looked up at the smoking remains of Mars Base. "Dear God."
"It's hopeless, isn't it?" Lauren asked weakly.
He tried to sound upbeat. "We still have an hour left. A lot can happen
in an hour." He looked upwards, wishing that he could think of a way out
of their dilemna. High above, a gleaming silver star arced it way across
the Martian sky. <What the....? A ship? The SDF-1? Or an alien? Damn....>
"David? What's that?"
<Useless to try a flare. It would figure that the beacon would
be busted. Damn!> "A ship in high orbit. I think."
"No, not that." she countered, pointing off towards their left. "THAT!
Over there."
<Over there?> "What? What do you mean?" He looked to where
she was pointing. Some sort of structure was visible, half-buried under
a dune of Martian dust. "Well, what do you know?"
"It's a building, right?"
David nodded. "That'd be my guess. Care to check it out?"
"Do we have a choice?"
He shouldered the survival pack into a more comfortable position. "No.
Let's go."
After nearly a half hour of trudging across the Martian landscape, David
and Lauren reached the half-buried structure, stopping at a distance of
about twenty meters. Upon closer inspection it became obvious that the
dune of reddish soil that half-covered the building wasn't a natural phenomenon
at all, but rather a mound of debris thrown up from a large carbon-scored
crater no more than ten meters from the structure itself. The blackened
remains of an alien fighter pod were clearly visible within and around
the crater.
The building itself seemed to be constructed of metal and concrete,
and sat like a squat shoe-box on the Martian surface. There were several
windows visible - all shattered, David noticed - and a large metal door.
"Damn." Lauren whistled. "I wonder what they used this building for."
Shaking his head, David muttered "I have no idea." He cocked his head
to one side as he studied the building from their vantage point. "There's
some sort of plaque or something above that door, though."
She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, but there was still
a hazy reddish cloud covering the area. "I can't make out what it says,
can you?"
He squinted a bit. "Nope. We'll have to get closer to check."
"I figured that. Let's go." David simply nodded in reply, supporting
Lauren's weight as much as he could as they both stepped off.
David stared at the weathered and faded sign for several moments before
reading aloud what was written there. "Biological Containment Module 3.
Biohazard. Authorized Personnel Only."
"Biohazard?" Lauren muttered.
"It's some sort of lab." He replied slowly, his mind racing. "Yeah....
a lab." A tenebrous thought danced just beyond comprehension. <A
lab.... something, something about a biological research lab.... something
important, but what?> David walked over to peer into one of the broken
windows. He pulled the small flashlight out of the survival kit and aimed
it through the window.
The inside of the building was a mess - shelves and desks and chairs
were scattered around haphazardly, most near the north wall. The floor
glittered like diamonds in places, shards of glass reflecting the flashlight's
beam in all directions. "What a disaster area." he commented to himself.
"Must've all happened when the rest of the base went up, I guess. Or maybe
when that fighter crashed?"
Motioning for Lauren to come over to where he was, David continued examine
as much of the room as he could from outside the window. Two doors led
out of the room, one of which looked more like an airlock than a regular
doorway. Beside that door, hanging on the wall, was a small green cylinder
of the type used to store compressed gas. A green cylinder with a diamond-shaped
yellow label. "Is that... YES!"
David literally jumped for joy - launching himself about three meters
into the air - a loud "Yeeee-ha!" bursting from his lips, deafeningly loud
inside his helmet. After he had settled back to the ground, he grabbed
Lauren and hugged her tight. "I knew we'd find something! I knew it!"
"What are you on about, David?" Lauren gasped, breaking free of his
embrace.
He touched his helmet to hers. "It's a biological research lab, Lauren.
Do you know what they have in those sorts of labs?" She shook her head
'no.' "Oxygen! They have emergency oxygen packs, and self-contained breathing
systems! Oxygen, Lauren! Oxygen!"
"What? In there?" She gazed into his eyes for a moment. "Oh, David,
that's great!" She paused. "But how do we get in?"
"Through the window, of course! It is open, after all." He smiled.
"And I don't think anyone will mind if we do a little breaking-and-entering,
considering the circumstances."
"You're going first, I assume?" David smiled and patted the side of
her helmet.
"Just to be on the safe side, you understand."
She smiled back at him. "I do. But we'd better hurry, before our own
air supply runs out. It'd be a bitch to run out of air so close to a fresh
supply, right?"
He laughed. "You're absolutely right." He looked around. "Now all I
need is something to use as a step." He spotted a severely bent piece of
the alien fighter's fuselage - it looked to be part of an aileron - lying
nearby. "That ought to do it." He dragged the twisted chunk of metal to
the window and placed it underneath - eliciting a sharp stab of pain from
his chest. Then he picked up a fist-sized rock and cleared the rest of
the broken glass out of the window frame. Once that was done, he climbed
up onto the impromptu step-ladder and peered inside the building one more
time.
He turned to Lauren as he braced himself. "Wish me luck."
Forward to Chapter 27.
Back to Chapter 25.
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