Eathfall (Novella 1): The Last Run Page 9

  “Just do whatever you can do,” Andrews said. “Including getting out and pushing. Choi, give me the numbers?”

  “Electromag interferometer’s pegged at two thousand volts. Distance from leading edge is one thousand meters, rate of closure one hundred thirty-four klicks per hour. It’ll take us down in less than three minutes.”

  “All right, you guys, hang on back there. It’s not going to get any smoother.” Andrews patted the SCEV’s instrument panel once again. “Come on, baby, come on…”

  “Four, this is Harmony. Lift is up and illuminated. Over.”

  “Much obliged, Harmony. We’ll be coming in hot. Over.”

  “Roger that, Four.”

  Daylight ebbed outside the viewports. Swirling dust blew across the thick glass, and Andrews glanced down at the infrared picture in the upper left corner of the functional display. The dust was thick enough to mute infrared images, which meant they would soon be blind.

  So I guess this means all we’ll have left is a compass.

  An alarm chirped, and engine one suddenly came to life, its growling whine slowly building to a crescendo. As soon as it began delivering power to the rig’s transmissions, the SCEV suddenly felt more nimble—or as nimble as a forty-ton vehicle could.

  “Spencer, you’re the man!” Andrews said. “How’d you manage to get it started?”

  “Busted into the engine’s integrated computer and shut down the thermal module,” Spencer said. “I did that because I’m brilliant and all, in case anyone was wondering.”

  From the back came a chorus of jeers. Andrews toned them out as he raised his voice.

  “Listen, folks, sorry, but I’m segmenting the vehicle,” he said. “Embrace the suck.” As he spoke, the two pressure doors that separated the rig’s three compartments slid closed. Andrews and Choi were sealed off in the cockpit.

  “So how’re we doing this?” Choi asked as the big SCEV swayed from side to side. The leading edge of the storm had caught up to it, and the winds were battering the slab-sided vehicle.

  “We run like hell and hope we can make it to the lift before the storm shuts us out,” Andrews said. “But if we screw it up and drive right into the side of the lift, then at least we won’t be around to listen to Walleyes.”

  “If ‘we’ screw it up? Who is this ‘we’ you’re talking about, white man?”

  “Attaboy, Choi, back me up all the way.”

  The SCEV had lost too much ground to the storm.

  Even as it accelerated forward, bumping and crashing over the dry landscape, the storm’s leading edge enveloped the vehicle, shrouding it beneath a shifting, inky darkness that made Andrews think the rig had just been swallowed whole by some sort of land-borne leviathan. Choi activated the rig’s infrared systems, but it was of little help; the swirling dust reduced the amount of heat that could be read by the high-tech device’s super-chilled planar array, rendering it as effective as Andrews’s eyeballs.

  “The suck has arrived,” Choi said.

  “We’re still on course, and the GPS says we should be at the lift in a minute or so,” Andrews told him. “Keep your eyes open.”

  As he drove, Andrews flipped on the SCEV’s array of high-intensity floodlights. They gave him an additional twenty or thirty feet visibility now that the sunlight was being pared down by the storm, but he still couldn’t see comfortably. All he had to go by were the instruments, and even the military-grade GPS satellites that had been launched prior to the war were accurate only to within ten feet. If visibility was reduced much more, they could drive right past the lift without anyone noticing it.

  “There!” Choi said a moment later, pointing out the diamond-matrix viewport. “Right there, I see the strobe! You got it?”

  Andrews leaned forward. The straps of his four-point harness dug into his shoulders as he looked at the heads-up display. Sure enough, there was a very faint winking in the darkness ahead. Bands of dust would obscure it entirely, then lessen for just an instant to allow him to perceive more light. He compared the flashing with the GPS location on the multifunction display. If it was right, then he was nearly on top of the box-shaped lift.

  He yanked back on the sidearm controller and stomped on the brakes. The SCEV slewed crazily as its wheels locked up, sending it skidding across the dry, sandy ground.

  It came to a rest only feet away from the lift’s open entrance. The lights inside the large cubicle gleamed dully, their tepid illumination no challenge to the storm’s all-encompassing darkness.

  “Yeah, I got it,” Andrews said.

  “Could you have stopped a little more, you know, artfully?” Choi asked.

  Andrews released a long sigh. “Probably, but why make it easy?”

  He coaxed the SCEV into the waiting lift. The vehicle bumped slightly as it crossed the threshold, its array of high-intensity fog lights illuminating the big cubicle’s interior. A layer of dust already coated the floor, masking the yellow positioning circle painted on the elevator’s flat floor. Andrews pulled the SCEV into position by memory and triple-clicked the TRANSMIT button on the sidearm controller. The pulses from the rig’s radio were read by the receiver inside the lift, and the elevator’s thick, double-pocket pressure doors slid closed, shutting out the dark, seething fury of the storm as it reached full force. Yellow strobes flashed outside the rig’s viewports as the atmospheric scrubbers came on, venting radioactive dust and other airborne particulates from the air inside the elevator. After a few moments, an alarm sounded over the radio, three strident tones. At the same time, the strobes outside turned from yellow to red. The SCEV bounced on its stiff suspension for a moment as the elevator commenced its descent.

  “Bay Control, this is SCEV Four. We’re secure and on our way down for an in-and-out. Over,” Andrews said over the radio.

  “Roger that, SCEV Four. Welcome back to Harmony Base. Over.”

  “Roger that, Harmony,” Andrew replied. “It’s good to be back.” With that, he and Choi finally relaxed, sinking back into the padding of their seats. Through the pressure door behind them, they could hear the rest of the crew applauding. It was good to be home—even if home was a windowless, subterranean fortress buried over a hundred feet below the Earth’s surface.

  Stephen Knight lives in the New York City area. You can find more of his fiction at:

  NOVELS

  Earthfall

  City of the Damned

  City of the Damned: Expanded Edition

  The Gathering Dead Series

  The Gathering Dead

  Left With The Dead (A “Gathering Dead” Novella)

  The Rising Horde: Volume One

  The Rising Horde: Volume Two

  With Derek Paterson:

  White Tiger

  NOVELLAS

  Hackett’s War

  SHORT STORIES

  Ghosts

  Family Ties

  Stephen Knight on the web:

  http://knightslanding.wordpress.com/

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/people/Stephen-Knight/100002176141614

  Twitter:

  @sknightwrites

  Did you like this novel? Did you hate it? Compliments and/or complaints should go to:

  sknightwrites@gmail.com

  And please…leave a review wherever you bought it!