18
"So, we're clear to investigate this fissure? Have all human remains been removed from the site?"
Chester regarded the cop guarding the gaping hole in the Metropolis street with a solemn mixture of respect and gratitude. He was the same cop who had been the first on the scene after the quake had caused its devastation. He was also the same cop that took over and saw to getting Kirsten's mother to safety. Chester felt a personal debt was owed to this man for his actions in securing the area immediately after the tremors ceased, and minimizing the casualties. He had personally made sure that Chester was treated by paramedics at the scene, and then accompanied Rose and Kirsten to the nearest hospital. It was a debt he was afraid he would never be able to repay.
Right now though, the officer seemed a little miffed at Chester's question.
"Yes, sir. All 'human remains' that we have been able find have been removed!"
"I'm sorry, Officer..."
"Kubert!"
"Yes, I remember. Officer Kubert, did I say something to upset you?"
"Well, sir. It's just me, I suppose. We took out the bodies of four human beings that had been smothered and dirtied and pretty badly mangled by the time they were recovered. I've been a cop a long time and seen a lot of bad things, so I know how you have to have a certain amount of detachment when dealing with things like that. But I also think a little respect ought to be in order. I mean, they were living, breathing people before... this... happened! I guess hearing them referred to as 'human remains' just sort of... you know... set me off!"
"I know what you mean, Officer. I was there. I actually saw them being... devoured by the earth. But if I think about it too much..."
Officer Kubert took a long look at Chester and began to recognize him as the man he had found taking care of the little girl and her mother when he arrived at the scene.
"Oh... yeah! I remember you now. You look pretty good now compared to the other day. Look, I'm sorry, I guess I should be a little more professional about all this, but..."
"No, Officer Kubert, you..."
"Call me Joe!"
Chester smiled in acknowledgement, "Joe it is... No, Joe you have nothing to apologize for. You're absolutely right. It's just that if I think about it too much right now..."
"... It makes it almost impossible to do the job!" Joe finished. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, I guess I should let you get to it, then. Let's see your clearance!"
By the time he returned to the scene of his trial by earthquake, Chester had been given special credentials. He was now part of a special task force to determine what sort of effects or after-effects, if any, the tremors caused, and how the tragedy was related to the earthquakes of the other cities around the globe. Officer Kubert examined them carefully.
"I don't know what you're looking for in there, Mr. Carr..."
"My turn! My name is Chester. You can call me Chess."
Joe offered his hand. Chess took it. A new feeling of friendship and respect seemed to envelope both of the men as they became a team.
"Chess, then." Joe smiled at his new comrade. "As I was saying, I don't know what you're looking for in there, but if you come upon any more... people... in there..." Joe winced a bit as he searched for the right words. "...stop what you're doing and tell me. They would likely be deceased but my guys will determine that and get whoever it is out. Then you can continue your investigation. Will that be agreeable?"
"Perfectly! Let's get down to business, then. Shall we, Joe?"
George began checking out the flight controls in the runabout. It was built for two pilots, but configured in such a way that one person could easily do everything necessary to fly her. It all seemed to be in order. He had the engines powered up and warming in no time. Now it was just a matter of getting out of the hangar and away from Hamilton before...
Ka-BOOOOOM! George knew that the sound came from the door of the hangar. Someone had just blasted their way in. He would have to get this buggy rolling and fast. Where's the darn airlock door remote? George thought. Although the flight controls were essentially the same in all space vehicles, there were a few slight differences from model to model in panel placement regarding what was considered accessory items such as, in this case, airlock openers.
George knew how to handle stress. While flying around in space almost any problem, no matter how small, becomes magnified because of the airless vacuum that surrounded you. You learn to handle such situations with a cool head. But this situation was a bit different. This time the fate of not just a shipful of passengers relied on him, but two entire civilizations. He continued to fumble around the control panel looking for the button that would open the access to the depressurization chamber and eventually facilitate his escape.
He could hear something banging against the runabout's main hatchway, now, along with muffled voices and an occasional sound of gunfire. Can't they hear the engines coming on-line? he thought. They could be seriously hurt or even killed if this keeps up! A new sound began from behind the hatchway. This one was a bit more unnerving - a kind of a whoosh like the sound of... Great Scott! Are they trying to burn their way in here with a cutting torch? A new resolve swept over George as his fingers began to search for anything familiar to the touch. Ah! This might shock some sense into 'em!
With a push of a button, George brought deflector shields on-line, and the sounds of attack ceased. He had used only a fraction of the power reserved for shields which were normally used to deflect small pieces of space debris such as tiny meteors, rocks, and grains of sand. But it was enough to give his attackers a bit of a tingle and maybe second thoughts about continuing their onslaught. His success, he feared, would be short-lived if he couldn't get the airlock open, though. Just a matter of time before they resort to energy weapons of their own, I'll bet!
Just as soon as the thought occured to him - KKKK-RRRR-AAACKKKK! The first sounds of hand-held energy blasters rocked the ship. The impact didn't seem that serious, but it was enough to drop down a previously unseen accessory panel near George's knee. He had to increase power to the shields even though it might mean a tighter squeeze getting through the airlock (if he could ever open it!)! Then he checked the open panel for damage. It was the air-lock door remote! Finally! What were these guys thinking hiding it like that? he wondered. Another energy blast kissed the ship again and George decided he would admonish the makers of the Runabout later.
His view screen was active now and he could see all sorts of colors from various energy beams flashing about outside the ship. He pushed the remote button and the airlock doors began to rumble. The sights and sounds of attack ceased as the would-be invaders realized what was happening. If they continued their onslaught, they could get swept into the airlock and be killed when the chamber depressurized. The mob pulled back and George engaged the anti-gravity drive.
The runabout lifted slowly away from the hangar floor as her pilot maneuvered the craft in a 180 degree turn towards the airlock. The assailants showed no intentions toward blocking the craft's way. One or two energy blasts from the promenade door were all that any of them would offer. Three of them, George noted by his view screen, ran out the door as fast as they could, but something told him that were not just giving up and saving themselves. They'll be back, he thought, and soon, I'd wager!
As soon as the air lock entrance was wide enough, George floated the runabout through it and into the decompression chamber. With the ship safely sheltered in the air lock and three of the attacking leaders missing, the remainder of the mob seemed to lose their taste for violence. All they could do now, it appeared, was to stand back and watch from a distance as the airlock vault slowly closed and locked their quarry safely away from them.
As it did, George let out a breath he'd felt like he'd been holding since last year, but he wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that he was home free. Those three guys that took off when the airlock started opening are sure to have a back-up plan, he thought. Maybe another ship or something, but I just know this isn't over yet!
Decompression had become a relatively quick procedure since interplanetary flights had become commonplace. The entire operation for a hangar the size George was in usually took about thirty seconds or so, but right now, to George it felt more like thirty minutes. As he waited for the outside doors to open and allow him to escape, it was all he could do but to try and be patient. But it wasn't working very well. He knew that the longer it took for the runabout to get up in the air, the better the chance for Jennifer's associates to find a means of stopping him. And that played on his mind as he prepared for his window of opportunity - and the airlock doors - to open.
He opened the communications system, "Hamilton tower, this is Lieutenant Commander George..." realizing in mid-sentence that it wouldn't do to give his real name in this situation, George looked around the cabin for ideas. Spotting the trademark embossed in the control panel he continued, "...Reeves! Lieutenant Commander George Reeves in the space runabout... er..." He noted the color scheme that had been continued from the outside of the ship.
"...Man of Steel! ...requesting clearance for unscheduled departure." Nothing but silence came across the comm for a few maddening seconds.
"Man of Steel, this is Hamilton tower. What's this about an unscheduled flight?"
"Roger, tower! Sorry for the inconvenience. You know how eccentric millionaires can be! Just a short jaunt to Phobos and back. Can you accommodate us?"
The door was almost open wide enough to fly away as George held his breath waiting to see if his bluff worked.
"Roger, Man of Steel. Proceed to pad eleven and stand by. But please tell your 'eccentric millionaire' to file a proper flight plan in the future!"
"Roger that, tower. Oh, by the way, you might want to send some security out this way. There are three disgruntled ex-employees who have been promising some pretty nasty actions against the... uh... boss for firing them. I think they may be heading this way on the tarmac!"
"Roger, Man of Steel! We'll keep a lookout for them. In the meantime, your flight number is 7837."
The door finally opened enough for the runabout to float through the entrance, and not a moment too soon. The "ex-employees" were in pressure suits and just showing up about five hundred feet away. George breezed by them before they had a chance to use their energy blasters and he proceeded to pad eleven. I just hope they clear me to take off quickly, he thought.
The men began running after the ship but they were a good ways behind. Now, It was just a waiting game. There it was! Pad eleven. George settled the craft onto the center of the marker and watched the viewscreen as the would-be attackers drew nearer. "Why do we wait, George Kent?" It was the tiny man George had been carrying around with him since discovering him in the Yellow Sun shuttle. He had almost forgotten about him!
"We have to wait for clearance to take off, Guer-on. There is other traffic up there that we could collide with if we just go without it. Besides, they use a force field to enforce the traffic control. We wouldn't get twenty-five feet off the ground without engaging it and that could damage our vehicle and our chances of saving Earth... and Kandor! Once they clear us a hole will open in the force field and we'll be on our merry way."
"They had better clear us quickly or we may never leave here at all. Look!"
Jennifer's thugs were approaching the ship at a rapid pace. They would arrive in seconds unless the traffic controller allowed the ship to leave... or unless help arrived. As it was, George hit the daily double.
With only about twenty feet to go before the three hoods could reach the runabout, ten security officers descended on the abbreviated mob. Stopped in their tracks they tried what ever they could to get to the ship, but the guards were having none of it. "Looks like the cavalry arrived just in the nick of time, eh Pilgrim?"
"Mr. Kent?" said Guer-on.
"Nothing, Guer-on... Just an Earth expression that means we're going to be all right now."
"Flight 7837, Man of Steel, you are clear to ascend now." came the order from the fight tower. George almost forgot that that was him.
"Oh! Right!" he said as he engaged the anti-grav engines, this time lifting the vehicle and the two unlikely adventurers up into the stratosphere of Mars and away to their mission of survival.