Echoterminus: Echogenesis Book 3, page 10
Sam knew Joshua wasn’t talking about the fire: he was talking about their prospects for long-term survival. They’d as good as evaporated if the orbiter proved to be beyond repair.
“I saw people pulling radio equipment out of the comms hut before it burned down,” he said to Joshua. “Did you hear what I said to Wardell?”
“Loud and clear, Sam.”
“Good.” Sam nodded. He turned to look back at Wardell, whose gaze was fixed on the wrecked spacecraft. “Wardell, I want you to give me your walkie-talkie.” He indicated the device where it hung from the rebel’s hip, then turned back to Joshua. “I want you to go find another radio. Then I want you, as well as Wardell, to head straight for the tunnel and the drawbridge. Don’t let anything else distract you because nothing, Joshua, nothing is more important than protecting the drawbridge.” He looked over at Wardell, and then back at Joshua. “Do you both understand?”
Wardell nodded mutely, his earlier belligerence vanished. He unclipped his walkie-talkie and passed it over.
“Soon as you’re there,” Sam continued, taking the device, “report back to me and tell me what you find. Then both of you stay there and keep monitoring the situation.”
“What about the rest of them?” Joshua asked, glancing nervously at Wardell. Clearly, he meant the rebels.
“They’re in the same boat as the rest of us,” said Sam, fixing his gaze on Wardell. “You understand, don’t you, we have to work together from now on? You can’t keep us prisoner and fight the Cents all at the same time.”
To his relief, Wardell nodded. Then he hurried after Joshua as he turned and ran toward the tunnel leading to the drawbridge.
Sam itched to go with them, but he had to trust Joshua to do whatever needed to be done. His own job, meanwhile, was to get both sides working together in the name of survival. And that also meant organising them to fight the flames and rescue what they could.
As he made his own way back to the settlement, Sam soon saw that in fact they had all, rebel and mesa-dweller alike, begun working together, and seemingly spontaneously. All it took was a common threat to make them forget their differences.
That wasn’t going to last forever, he knew. The moment the threat was gone, they’d be right back where they started.
And where the hell was Traynor?
Sun and Kevin’s home still stood, although part of the roof had burned away. Other homes were blazing ruins, as was the Town Hall. Sam’s own place had survived apparently intact. Amit’s was a write-off. Hurrying into his own home, Sam snatched up a rag and held it over his mouth and nose: he could feel the smoke and ash starting to clog his lungs.
By the time he emerged, he saw that there were only a few burner-ticks darting here and there. Most of them self-immolated harmlessly in the dirt. People were stamping on them or using smouldering rags to crush them or sweep them away from flammable sources. The heat from the still-burning Town Hall was tremendous.
Sam’s next stop was their granary building. He found Irish and Piper up on its roof, fighting to put out the flames slowly consuming its roof. Down below, Keira Traynor and Morgan were working together to drag sacks of harvested spinleaf berries out through the door of the granary before they could be consumed by the flames. Their faces and hands were black with soot. So were Sam’s, he realised.
It occurred to him that if the Cents maintained their siege long enough, it wouldn’t take long to starve them all to death—especially now that most of their crops had gone up in flames.
Sam moved on, finding Ethan standing together with Angelina and Anna. They were watching the flames rising high above the wreckage of the Town Hall, their faces pale and exhausted in the shimmering crimson light.
“Did everyone survive?” Sam asked Ethan. He coughed hard, then pressed the rag back over his mouth and nose. “I haven’t had a chance to count heads.”
“No fatalities, thank God,” said Ethan. He gazed morosely at the wreckage, then turned to slowly take in the remaining homes and other buildings. “But we’re fucked, Sam. No two ways about it.”
“We can rebuild,” said Sam. “We can—”
He fell silent when he saw the look of fury and disgust on Ethan’s face. “He might be a dangerous asshole,” he spat, “but Traynor was right about one thing: we should have done something about the Cents a long time ago. Maybe not wiped them out like that crazy bastard wants, but at least we could have showed them we could hurt them a lot more than they could ever hurt us.”
“There are,” Sam said quietly, “a few dozen of us, and probably millions of them all across this continent. That’s not a battle we’re ever going to win, Ethan.”
Sam couldn’t have been more grateful when a voice crackled out of the walkie-talkie he had taken from Wardell.
“Sam?” Joshua said over the radio. “I’m down in the tunnel, next to the drawbridge. Something was going on here, but I’m not sure what.”
“Tell me exactly.”
“When me and Wardell got here, we heard a noise like something was banging against the drawbridge from outside. It was a hell of a racket. Don’t know what it was, since the cameras are down and the only other way to find anything out is by actually lowering the drawbridge. Obviously, we weren’t going to do that. But we started banging on the drawbridge from the inside, and then whatever it was stopped. I’m guessing we spooked the Cents, whatever they were up to.”
Joshua’s words sent an icy chill down Sam’s spine. “Where is Wardell?” Sam asked. “Is he still there?”
“Uh, no,” Joshua replied. “He left. Didn’t say why. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with these people.”
Sam knew he should be angry, but he hadn’t really expected anything else. “They think they’re smarter than us, Joshua. They think they should be in charge, but it feels like nobody at all is in charge. Speaking of which,” he added, “I can’t find Traynor anywhere. I’m starting to think he’s not even on the mesa anymore. We’re going to have to do something about them.”
“Yeah,” Joshua said nervously. “Except they’ve still got all the guns. Remember?”
Not that Sam had forgotten. And while there might be a way to do something about that, it would only lead to them fighting each other rather than focusing on the far greater threat coming from the forest below.
“Stay down there for now,” Sam said at last. “Anything out of the ordinary—anything you hear or see—report it to me immediately. Got that?”
“No problem.”
“If I can find someone else to join you, or take your place and give you a break, I’ll send them your way.” Sam glanced around. “I don’t know if the computers in the comms hut survived the fire, but if they did, I can check if the cameras are still showing as live.”
“My guess,” said Joshua, “is they figured out what the cameras are for and they took them out. Or if they didn’t exactly figure out what their function is, they knew they served a purpose. But I can definitely hear a lot of noise from just across the gap. They’re close, Sam. Closer than they’ve been since we first came up here.”
“I hear you.” Sam thought for a moment, then realised what he should have done in the first place. “We need to get over to one of the lookouts and see what’s going on.”
“I can do that,” Joshua said animatedly.
“No, stay where you are,” Sam advised. “I’ll try to find someone else to go there.”
“Okay, Sam. I’ll report in if I see or hear anything more.”
Sam clicked the radio off, then looked around in time to see the granary roof collapse in on itself in a rush of flames. Piper and Irish had already scrambled back down from the roof to safety. Keira and Morgan stood next to a mound of sacks of dried foodstuffs, looking weary and almost unrecognisable beneath a layer of soot and dirt. For all their efforts, Sam knew there had been much more inside—now all irretrievably lost.
Sam watched as Piper and Morgan dragged a couple of sacks toward a hut that had survived the flames, then hurried toward the others still by the granary. Keira saw him coming, and her hand moved to rest on the hilt of her hunting knife.
“Easy,” he said, putting his hands out before him. “I just want to know where your father is.”
“I already asked her,” said Irish. Rivulets of sweat cut through the ash streaking her face. “She won’t tell me.”
“Where he is, is none of your business,” said Keira. “What matters is that he left me in charge.” Her hand still rested lightly on her knife where it was sheathed on her hip. “Just because we had to let you go for now doesn’t mean—”
“He’s not here, is he?” said Irish, pushing herself between Keira and Sam until she was almost nose to nose with the younger woman. “Nobody’s seen him. And I just spoke with Angelina. When she was in the barn, she heard our ‘copter taking off just hours after that new lander passed overhead.”
“Is that true, Keira?” Sam asked. “Where did he fly to?”
Keira stared at them both, in that moment looking completely out of her depth. Her hand fell away from her knife, and for the first time Sam wondered if Traynor had in fact abandoned all of them, rebel and mesa-dweller alike.
“Hey!”
Sam turned to see Karl Gaballo marching toward them. One shoulder of his jerkin looked badly burned, and blood streaked one side of his face. He gestured threateningly with his rifle.
“Show’s over,” said Gaballo. “I want all of you back inside where I can see you.”
Sam laughed. “Inside where?” he jeered, taking pleasure from Gaballo’s look of consternation. “The only building big enough to hold all of us just burned down.”
He turned back to Keira, dismissing Gaballo. “Listen to me, Keira. We don’t know what the Cents will do next. There’s no record of an attack like this on any previous missions. The only way we’re going to survive is by working together, the same way we did to put these flames out. I think you understand—”
Sam stumbled and fell as a hand grabbed him by the shoulder, shoving him to the ground. He landed on his knees and turned to see Gaballo staring down at him with hatred.
“Bullshit,” Gaballo snarled. “We warned you they’d attack again, and you didn’t listen. We took over because we knew what was coming while you all sat on your fat asses worrying about them. It’s been fifty fucking years, Newman, and everything we told you would happen is happening just like we said it would!”
Karl’s voice had risen to a shout by the time he finished. Sam said nothing, the knowledge that the rebel wasn’t entirely wrong burning in his throat like acid as he pulled himself back upright.
“Then why did Traynor just walk away?” Irish demanded. “If he’s going to save us all—where is he?”
Karl just stared mutely back at her.
“He’s gone to the lander,” Keira said tonelessly. “The new one.”
“Keira!” Karl took a step toward Traynor’s daughter. “You can’t talk about this, not to…” he paused, his gaze narrowing. “You didn’t know, did you?”
“I do now,” Keira replied smoothly. “Now I’d like to know why.”
Karl darted a look at Sam, then back at Keira. “Not here,” he muttered.
“So you’re in charge,” Sam said to Keira, “but your own father won’t tell you his plans?”
Keira’s face coloured. “Fuck you.”
“Sam,” said Irish, a warning in her face. She turned to Keira. “Whatever’s going on between you and your father, it doesn’t change the fact that we have to deal with things as they are.” She nodded at the surrounding settlement, which the Cents had reduced to smoking ruins in less than an hour. ”Most of the fires are out. We need to assess the damage and get ready for whatever’s coming next.”
“Agreed,” Sam said emphatically. “And while we’re on the subject, Keira, I sent Joshua and Wardell to the drawbridge in case all this was a distraction for a separate attack.” He held up his walkie-talkie. “Joshua’s reporting in regularly, but he needs support.”
He saw Morgan returning to join them. There was no sign of Piper.
“I saw you, Kevin and DeWitt pulling equipment out of the comms hut,” Sam asked Morgan. “Do you know if any of it’s still functional?”
“Kevin said the power from the batteries was still working,” Morgan replied, “and also the connection to the turbine. Last I saw, he was checking all the equipment. My guess is we got most of it out in time.”
“The gap between the mesa and the cliffs opposite is just a few metres,” Sam reminded Keira. “If they’re smart enough to attack us like this, they’re smart enough to bridge the gap and attack the single weak spot in our defences. We need to have eyes on the drawbridge around the clock.”
If Keira wanted to feel like she was running the show, Sam had decided, he was going to make sure she did it right.
“Agreed,” said Keira. “Go to the nearest lookout with a view of the drawbridge,” she said to Karl. “Report back to me if you see anything out of the ordinary.”
Karl’s mouth twisted into a frown and he glared at Sam before turning back to Keira. “Are you really going to let these people give you orders?”
Keira’s knife was in her hand with such swiftness it took Sam’s breath away. Now its blade hovered just millimetres from the soft tissues of Gaballo’s belly.
“I know how to take advice,” she said, her voice dangerously calm. “Do you?”
Gaballo’s nostrils flared, and he shot another sullen, angry look at Sam. Then, without another word, he turned and stalked off in the direction of the tunnel.
Until that moment, Sam hadn’t realised he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly.
“And while we’re at it,” said Irish, pushing closer to Traynor’s daughter, “what about Florence? Where the hell are you keeping her?”
Keira’s knife was still in her hand. “Let me be very clear,” she said with the same icy calm with which she had addressed Karl Gaballo. “You are all still prisoners. And I,” she said, raising her knife a fraction, “do not need a gun to kill any of you. Karl wasn’t wrong when he said you’d all grown soft up here.” She glared at Sam. “Understood?”
“Understood. But that changes nothing I’ve said. Are you going to interfere with me or my people while we do what needs to be done? Or do you think Piper and the rest can do it all themselves?”
“Of course not,” Keira said tiredly. She was clearly just as fatigued as the other rebels. “We’ll be watching, but we won’t interfere in necessary tasks.”
“You need to find out what your father’s plan is,” Sam called after her as she began to walk away. “There’s got to be a reason they don’t want to tell you, Keira.”
Sam saw a slight stiffening in her shoulders, but she kept walking. At that moment, his radio crackled to life, and he listened as Joshua again reported neither seeing nor hearing further activity. Sam told him Karl was headed for the lookout above the drawbridge and ended the call.
“I think I might know why he left like that,” said Morgan. “Traynor, I mean.”
Both Irish and Sam turned to look at her. “When we were all in the Town Hall and Piper and Karl were guarding us,” said Morgan, “I was right next to them while they were whispering to each other. They were talking about fuel.”
Irish raised her eyebrows. “Fuel?”
“Lander fuel, specifically,” she clarified. “The tanks of compressed metallic hydrogen. Karl asked how many they’d need to refuel, then Piper told him to shut up.”
“The fuel reserves are for the orbiter,” said Irish. “What do they need it for?”
Morgan shook her head. “When we were kids, you taught us that the landers usually only had enough fuel for one or two more flights after they touched down. Usually not even that, because there are so few places clear enough to land in the forest.”
Once he realised what Morgan was driving at, it was so obvious Sam struggled to understand why he hadn’t thought of it already.
“That’s why he wants the new lander,” he blurted. “With our stockpiles of compressed fuel, he could fly that new lander almost anywhere on the planet.”
Irish’s eyes became wide and bright in the starry night. “Is that what you think Traynor’s doing? Staging a rescue?”
“A rescue?” Sam shook his head. “It’s hardly his style, is it?”
“Or maybe he’s stealing it,” Morgan suggested.
Sam and Irish exchanged a look, and Sam saw his own horror reflected in her eyes.
“Then why leave Keira in the dark?” asked Irish. “And how the hell does he expect to do that when he’s outnumbered fifteen to one by the crew of that new lander?”
“I can’t begin to guess what he’s got in mind,” Sam replied. “But out of all the people on this world or the old one, he’s the last person I’d wish on them.”
The moment Sam stepped around the side of a half-burned hut and again set eyes on the collapsed orbiter, his heart sank into a bottomless pit. It lay amid the shattered ruins of its wooden gantry, a few last flames guttering in the dark.
Sun—whom Sam hadn’t set eyes on since he and the rest of them had been forced into the Town Hall—stood next to the ashen remains of the gantry. Her attention was fixed on her husband, Kevin Amaro, who had opened a panel on one side of the orbiter.
“Just how bad is it?” Sam asked him. He was a long way from forgiving either Kevin or Sun for their betrayal, but right now they had bigger things to worry about.
Kevin shook his head without looking up.“It’s not looking good,” he said, still poking at the interior electronics.
“It’s not salvageable?”
Kevin sat back and shook his head wearily. “There’s too much to explain to give you any kind of answer I’d feel—”
“Try,” said Sam, his temper fraying.
Kevin turned to stare wordlessly at him, then nodded down at the open panel. “There’s too much damage to essential components we can’t replicate. Even if by some miracle we managed to launch it, it’d never make it to the Tsiolkovsky. Not without functioning guidance.”
