Chapter 19: Spearden Aid Station

The hard heels of his expensive leather shoes clicked loudly as they struck the dark stonework of the complex floor, the sound barely audible over the din of the other Brothers and Sisters hurrying through the low-lit corridors of the underground complex. Holding the satchel slung over his shoulder tight, he moved through them with a purpose they instinctively recognized and parted for him like a shark among a school of fish.

There was a roaring of whispered tones in the throng, some in hushed conversations, others chanting softly in groups headed to various ceremonies of sacrifice. Dust ignored them completely, paying them the attention they deserved, as he made his way to the sacred lower levels where adepts and low priests were forbidden.

He had been summoned by the Divine herself to deliver the precious items in his charge. Over his decades among the true believers, he had plotted and schemed his way into high position, as all currently on the Red Council had done before him, but this was going to be the first time he would see the face of the Divine himself. A clear sign, he thought, that his current machinations to supplant his target on the Council were blessed and would succeed.

He straightened his hood as he approached the two massive, red-cloaked guardians who barred the entrance to the winding staircase leading to the Divine’s sanctum. They grimaced at him with tall halberds crossed, the sharp edges stained and left uncleaned as a clear signal of past and potential future use.

“Halt. None may enter,” rumbled a not-quite-human voice from beneath the red iron chain link veil covering the guardian’s hooded face.

“I am Brother Dust. I have been summoned,” he snorted derisively. “You will allow me to pass.” In unison, their heads turned slightly towards the entrance as if listening; then, they returned their gaze to him.

“Proceed,” said the guardian as they uncrossed their weapons. Dust walked past and descended the narrow and unlit spiral staircase, its steps worn smooth by the passage of countless feet.

The stairs descended deep into the bones of the bedrock, and Dust had to feel his way carefully as he went. The darkness was absolute, and no amount of adjustment of his eyes could pick up any light for most of the way down. After several long minutes, he detected a faint green glow that grew steadily until he reached the bottom.

The narrow stairs opened into a small empty chamber, devoid of decoration, lit only by a single wrought iron lamp of ancient design affixed to the left wall. The illumination was produced by a crystalline rod running through the center, from top to bottom, with an odd green lightning that danced inside.

Dust stepped into the center of the small room and stood patiently in front of an ornate stone door, which had no apparent nob, handle, or latch. As he waited patiently before it, he silently appraised the iconography.

It was intricately carved with hundreds of figures either kneeling or prostrating around a radiating starburst, surrounded by what looked to be the broken bodies of their defeated foes. Every face was shown as a twisted mask of pain and terror. ‘Appropriate,’ he thought to himself. Although this carving was ancient beyond the count of years, it still reflected the truth of the universe: there was only the Divine, the devout few who worshiped her, and those who were only meant to be devoured or destroyed.

After a moment, the door swung silently inward, and Dust stepped through.

Despite the tall, vaulted cathedral ceiling of the Divine’s sanctum, the air was oppressive, causing Dust to become conscious of his breath as though his lungs needed to work harder in this space.

Intricately carved alcoves lined the walls in an unfamiliar style that simultaneously was and wasn’t proportionally accurate; the carved figures seemed to defy dimensionality, appearing flat and static, then, in a blink of an eye, seemed to bulge from the stone and move. The alcoves depicted alternating scenes of conquest of worlds and huddled masses bent over prostrate in worship, vast destruction of unimaginable scale, counterbalanced by absolute submission.

At the head of the long, cathedral-like space were steps leading up to a large throne of rough hewn stone upon a dias. Heavy green curtains hung behind it and to the sides, framing the large seat and focusing the eye upon its occupant.

A great statue of a woman, large and in proportion with the massive stone throne, sat upon it, dotted with gold and jewels too numerous and dazzling to count. Magnificent gemstone rings and hooped bangles adorned the numerous well-shaped arms and long, luscious legs and toes. A magnificently opulent golden headdress crowned the statue, but the feature that most struck Dust was the statue’s eyes. He felt laid bare, pierced to the core, naked before it, the twisted, harsh expression of its beautiful face emanated judgment and contempt, as if all before her were unworthy.

Two groups of hooded priests kneeled to either side of the dais, praying silently at the feet of the statue, leaving an aisle directly through their midst in the center.

“Approach, Child,” Boomed a powerful feminine voice, seeming to come from every direction. Dust’s heart quaked, feeling the raw power emanating from the altar, but he strode forward confidently, his pride not allowing him to show it outwardly.

Entering the circle of priests at the foot of the dias, he knelt, bowing his head, resting his elbow on one knee. He retrieved an ornately engraved box covered in fine golden filigree from his satchel. He unlatched the small golden hook on the lid, flipping it open, exposing two acorn-sized chunks of a broken green crystal, then held up the box on open palms over his bowed head in offering.

One of the thirty-odd priests stood, gently took the box from Dust’s hands, and placed it reverently on a small altar in front of the dais.

“Divine, I have humbly performed the task set before me and retrieved the precious fragment you provided to your priestess, Sister Flair,” Dust said with as much solemnity as he could muster, “along with the one you tasked her to find.”

There was a moment of silence as Dust knelt, waiting to see if his offering was sufficient to earn further dialogue with the Divine. He didn’t have to wait long. “You have done well, Child. I am pleased,” boomed the omnipresent voice. “And I sense there is more you wish to reveal.”

Silently pleased he had managed to pique her curiosity, he replied. “Yes Divine, there is. I have witnessed first hand the return of the ancient enemy, the Silver One. She has begun reconstituting her strength and gathering followers.”

“Of this, I am aware,” she said, her voice thick with derision.

“Of Course, Divine. That was your priestess’ mission, to test the Silver One’s strength and set a wolf among her sheep.” Dust paused for dramatic effect, trying to gauge how the unfathomable presence before him felt about him discovering her priestess’s secret mission. He wasn’t sure how to interpret her silence, so he continued. “I wish to inform you that the Bloom has made first contact, indicating it is becoming stronger.”

“You believe yourself clever, Child,” she chided. “Just one of your many machinations coming to fruition, revealed to me as a means to curry favor; in hopes, perhaps, that I would bless your campaign to unseat a certain member of the Red Council and install yourself?”

He blanched slightly at the revelation of her knowledge of his plans. The care with which he had been positioning himself and arranging the pieces on the board for his impending coup had been impeccable. Though he shouldn’t have been, he was surprised at the casualness with which she mentioned it; she was, after all, Divine and powerful beyond measure.

“You need not worry that I will disturb the scheme you have laid out,” she said with a slightly condescending tone. “The weak must be culled, and if your target on the council no longer has the whits to see your attack upon his postion he no longer deserves it. This is how I’ve kept my flock strong over so many millennia, the weak are devoured and the strong take their place.”

“By your grace, Divine,” Dust said, much relieved. Time to reveal his ace. “The other matter, Divine.” He reached into his satchel for the other item he had brought with him and offered it in the same manner as the box.

“During her escape, Divine, the Silver One sacrificed a part of herself to save her minions. This is what I was able to recover.” Dust felt a wave of satisfaction sweep over him, emanating from behind the stone statue’s curtains.

“You have done well, Child. I am pleased.” Dust looked to the priest standing next to the altar before the dais. His hooded head nodded towards the altar, indicating that he should approach. Dust rose to his feet, and with his head still bowed, he placed the transparent container full of silver snow, swirling as he moved it, onto the altar next to the box containing the shards. He backed away and knelt once more.

“With the body of the enemy, we have the key to enslave them once and for all,” said the Divine, her voice loud in the chamber, echoing through the cathedral with certainty.

The Nestia cut through the cloud cover at supersonic speeds, popping neat holes through its centers, causing it to lose its fluffy cohesion and disperse. The three pods and shuttle trailed close behind but spread out for maximum sensor coverage to scan for survivors as they headed for the first location. In their wake, they dropped steady streams of emergency information sheets as they streaked by.

“We’re five minutes out; all pilots, match our speed as we slow for approach,” June called to the others in the pods.

“Roger,” Will acknowledged, followed by a “Ten-four,” from Ben and an “Affirmative,” from Artona. The Nestia and the pods slowed to a more leisurely pace as they made their final approach to the intended first aid location in the small city of Spearden.

“June, we’re going to going to peel off and start our search grids while all of you find a spot to setup,” Will said over the open channel between all craft.

“Understood. Good luck, everyone. Let’s find and help those people out there,” June said with earnest hope.

“We’re off as well,” Thea called over the open comm channel. “According to the city planning map provided by the AAN home office, the water treatment and power plant are co-located in the industrial park on the edge of town, a couple of minutes from here, as the crow flies.”

Inside the Nestia’s shuttle, The lead Caimar engineer cocked his head in Thea’s direction. “Crow?” Zarvok asked, blinking both sets of reptilian eyelids in confusion.

“It’s an old Earth expression; a crow is a kind of bird there. It means ‘in a straight line’.”

“Ah, I see,” Zarvok replied. “Similar to the Caimar expression ‘to dart eel’. Though it’s usually in context of swimming away as fast as you can from an angry Matron in heat. If you manage to upset a mating female, the consequences are, let us say, extreme.”

Thea chuckled. “No worry about that at the moment,” she said, steering the shuttle full of Caimar engineers off Nestia’s flight path and heading to the town outskirts. “Only friendly females, here.”

Thea slowed the shuttle, bringing it in low, flying fifty meters above the ground. Close up, the destruction took on new focus. Most of the buildings were not built to withstand the titanic forces of a wall of water and were simply crushed and swept away, piling up as debris in lower-lying areas as the water receded. Sturdier older structures made of brick, stone, or concrete crumbled where they stood, piled cairns memorializing the structures they had been. A tall marble obelisk celebrating the town’s founding lay on its side, the ground around it and underneath torn and undermined.

As the shuttle passed over the wreckage, they kept a sharp eye on the ground below for anything or anyone alive and moving. Thea knew this mission would be hard, but she still wasn’t prepared to see the scale of devastation up close. “Focus on the mission,” she mumbled to herself as they sped along.

The power plant had been constructed to withstand all kinds of emergency scenarios, partly as a safety measure to protect the population from plant failures and partly for externally caused issues, such as accidental collisions from flying craft or natural causes like earthquakes, wildfires, or floods. So, it wasn’t surprising that the main reactor building stood intact.

“Thea, please circle the facility slowly so we may do an aerial survey before we touch down,” Zarvok requested, as a couple of the other engineers produced meters and scanners, making sure that it was safe to approach.

Thea flew the shuttle in a slow circuit around the fortified structure while the engineers monitored their equipment. “The containment vessel is intact,” Zarvok declared. “Let’s land and continue our survey.”

Thea had been looking for a spot to put down as they circled; debris was everywhere, so she picked a mostly clear spot next to a squat, bunker-looking building that must have been on the leeward side of the rushing water.

The shuttle touched down gently, and as Thea powered down the drive and opened the shuttle door, the ground beneath the craft shifted suddenly. This threw the shuttle a degree off level, surprising the engineers and causing them to stumble about the cabin.

After a moment of holding their collective breath, waiting for more movement, none came. “Everyone good?” Thea asked the dozen Caimar in the back as she unclipped her harness.

“I believe so,” Zarvok responded, looking around to his fellows. Though wide-eyed, they gave a unanimous round of thumbs up. “Okay, then. Let’s get a closer look, but tread carefully. We can’t afford to become injured ourselves. Teams of two, if you would, gentlemen.” His team nodded, then proceeded to exit the shuttle.

Zarvok and Thea followed them out. The pairs of engineers fanned out, picking their footing carefully as they monitored their equipment, walking slowly and testing the firmness of the ground as they went.

“It’s not unusual for portions of the facility to be below grade; we will need to be careful not to fall into any buried vaults or compromised tunnels,” Zarvok explained.

Thea nodded in understanding. “So, where to first?” she asked.

“We inspect the control building,” he said, indicating the nearby bunker that a pair of engineers had just disappeared into. “The plant monitor and control systems should give us a good picture of which sub-systems have been compromised and which are still functional,” Zarvok said as they walked. “We’ll still need to inspect everything, but it’ll give us a place to start.”

Thea noticed his expression was dour. “But you don’t have high hopes, I’m guessing.”

“No,” he replied. “Along with the control building, there should be several others housing auxiliary and support equipment, cooling systems, power distribution switchgear, maintenance facilities. All of these seem to be missing.” Thea wondered briefly if the debris they were picking their way through were the remnants of Zarvok’s missing buildings.

Thea and Zarvok found the entrance to the control bunker the other engineers used. The heavy sliding doors were forced open with hydraulics and braced open with rods. Stepping into the entryway, they noted that the engineers had already affixed emergency lighting to the walls at regular intervals, allowing them to see that at least the inside of the control bunker seemed to have survived unscathed.

They followed the trail of emergency lights until they found the two engineers who had entered before them. They already had an electrical cabinet open, shining portable torches this way and that over the wiring and equipment mounted inside.

“How’s it looking, Suiden?” Zarvok asked the Caimar with his head in the steel cabinet.

“The auxiliary power supplies are dead, but the control electronics seem to be in good shape,” Suiden replied.

“Well, that’s some good news. Waizek, please get some help and fetch the heavy duty rad-battery. We’ll run the power cables down the hallway and patch it directly into the cabinet.”

The engineer jogged back down the partially lit hallway and back outside. Ten minutes later, Suiden returned with two other Caimar, helping to uncoil the long power conduits. Thea stood back as Zarvok supervised the other engineers, who traced circuits back to a main disconnect and swapped the external power leads for their temporary ones.

Zarvok nodded his approval, and Waizek called down the hallway, “Fire it up!” A hundred blinking red and amber lights flashed in the cabinet as the electrical components again came to life. After a minute of self-checks, some amber lights turned green, though many indicators remained red. The built-in emergency lighting sputtered on as equipment panels throughout the control room sprang to life.

Thea looked up, about to ask why the overhead lights hadn’t come on, but Zarvok beat her to the punch. “The lights are on the main power distribution for the plant, which I’m guessing no longer exists.”

Suiden, already at a terminal, indexing hundreds of alarms generated by the control system, looked up at them and nodded in agreement. “There are no sensor readings from the transformers, rotary condensers, heat transfer systems, or neutronic scrubbing systems. Just about everything except the reactor and primary loop subsystems inside the containment building.”

“I suppose it was too much to ask for; we’ll need to run new cables and replace the equipment sensors,” Zarvok sighed, disappointed. He lifted his communicator to his snout and depressed the ‘talk’ button.

“Nadir, how bad are the pumps and plumbing?” he asked one of the engineers outside, inspecting the remnants of the building containing the supporting equipment.

“You should probably come take a look,” Nadir replied.

Zarvok gave Thea a sideways look. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Thea shrugged her shoulders as they walked the hallway back outside. “You never know, stranger things have happened; maybe it’s not too bad,” she commented as they stepped into the light, managing to make it through the overcast sky.

“Sorry to say, it is bad,” Nadir replied, overhearing their conversation. “Could be worse, but I can’t imagine how. It’s like a Dengmar Titan played a bad practical joke; all the piping that should have been straight has been bent, twisted and pinched, everything that should have bends are straight and flattened. Even if half of it was salvageable, we’d be chasing the leaky seals until the stars blink out.”

Zarvok’s frown deepened as he stared out over the large array of twisted and broken piping, naked under the sky after the building sheltering it had been torn away. “What a mess. I don’t know what we’re going to do with this.” Zarvok crossed his arms, his mind racing, looking for a solution.

Brakken and Threx, the two engineers assigned to check out the nearby water treatment plant, picked their way through the debris field as he pondered what to do about the wrecked piping. “I hope you two have better news for me than what we’re dealing with here,” Zarvok said, gesturing to the plumbing turned gordian knot.

Threx held the back of his head with one hand. “Well, there is quite a bit of muck to clean out of everything, but yes, the water treatment plant mostly survived; most of the facility was subteranean; if we selectively canabilize some systems to repair others, we should be able to get a significant portion of the treatment plant operational, provided that we have power, that is.”

Zarvok nodded, grateful for a little good news. “Thank the Stars. Threx, take two teams and get the water plant operational; the rest will keep working on the power plant.” Threx acknowledged him with a nod, and then he and Brakken turned, heading back to the water plant.

“I hope the others are having an easier time setting up the mobile hospital,” Zarvok said, not liking their prospects. Thea put an arm around his shoulders in support.

Devens leaned over June’s shoulder as she brought the Nestia to a silent hover over an enormous pile of debris they assumed was the remains of the Spearden municipal center. The Nestia cast a large shadow over it, hanging in the air quietly as they decided their course of action.

“Have the search and rescue crews already surveyed the city center?” Devens asked, her expression flat, masking the anguish she felt at knowing what they would find below them.

“No, but I’ve been running a deep scan of everything within a three-kilometer radius,” Inta replied. An overhead map appeared on the right-hand side of the forward view screen next to the actual view from outside. Red dots began populating the map, radiating in all directions from where the Nestia was currently positioned. “These are all the hits the sensor received for organic masses, roughly humanoid-sized, all at ambient temperatures,” Inta said grimly. Green dots began populating alongside these, smaller and not as numerous. “The green ones have a higher than ambient heat signature, but smaller in mass; probably scavengers or rodents. It doesn’t appear that any survivors stuck around once things settled.”

“Probably headed to the outlying areas with fewer people, and likely more resources,” Deven said with faux optimism. “Let’s hope the pods pick them up on their surveys.”

Devens studied the map momentarily, and then her eyes settled on an area devoid of red and green. “Here. This spot, what used to be at this location?” she asked, pointing at the empty spot.

“Local directory says it was a shopping mall,” June replied.

“Let’s go take a closer look,” Deven said eagerly. “If we have any measure of luck, the concrete flooring will still be intact and we can setup shop right on top of it.”

June piloted the Nestia to the new location, and Inta performed a deeper scan of the area with the Nestia’s sensors. “The foundations seem to be intact, and there are no biomarkers in the area. The people here must have received an evacuation order just before the water hit,” Inta said, making an educated guess.

“Excellent,” Devens said, gathering a head of steam. “Jyn, inform your team that we’ll be deploying them to clear the mall foundation and the surrounding area of wreckage. We’ll begin setup as soon as they’ve cleared the foundation. After your team has cleared the foundation, clear and level this area here,” she said, pointing to an area to the southwest at a slightly lower elevation, about half the size of the mall. “We need to have both of these areas cleared ASAP, preferably before the end of the day.”

Jyn nodded, then asked, “what are you going to put up in this other area?”

Devens steeled her expression. “The morgue.”

Inta stood next to Jyn, dwarfed by his mammoth size, as he directed the heavy equipment operators close to the edge of the open door of the hangar. “Careful, a little more, STOP!” He said loudly, holding a big fist in the air, instructing the operator to hold position.

The faint blue rays of the tractor beam sprung to life, bathing the first in a line of many pieces of equipment, rumbling to life, ready to be deployed. Inta locked onto the first bull dozer and gently guided the tractor beam to lift up and hover the heavy dozer out the hangar door, suspended high above the ground, then slowly lowered it, crunching the debris below as the tractor beam lessened and let the dozer’s weight settle.

The dozer’s engine immediately rumbled from idle to full roar as it began maneuvering across the broken building material. It pushed a large pile to one side and cleared a spot on the concrete for other equipment to be lowered onto.

One after another, Jyn and Inta guided the rest of the heavy equipment to the ground until they were all down and busy clearing the site. “How long do you think it’ll take them to clear the area?” Inta asked.

“These folks are pros, maybe an hour, hour and a half for the initial push. Once the immediate debris is cleared, we’ll identify a suitable spot away from the area then move and dump everything there. You wouldn’t want the piles near the temporary structures or where people might possibly be; we’ll setup an out of the way spot as a dump where people are less likely to get hurt.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Inta said in agreement. “That and we wouldn’t necessarily want a huge reminder of the destruction piled up right nearby. I think we’d want to create a sense of beginning to return to order and stability. The people we rescue and bring here are going to be traumatized and making it feel safe is almost as important as caring for them physically.”

They quickly emptied the hangar of the Netherlands’ construction equipment, depositing them on the ground below. The experienced equipment operators danced their earth movers in a coordinated ballet, backing up as others pulled forward, turning and swinging around each other, and clearing the ground efficiently.

Almost as soon as the last piece of equipment was on the ground, Inta received a call over the Nestia’s private comms network. “Inta, can you inform the medical teams that we’ve found a group of survivors and are headed back,” Ben informed her. “There’s a dozen in this group; none are seriously injured, but they’re all showing signs of dehydration and exposure. They’ve elected to ride back in groups of four.”

“Understood, Ben,” Inta replied. “Attention, all medical personnel. The first recovered survivors are inbound. ETA is ten minutes,” she announced over the ship’s public address. She sensed the medical teams scrambling in preparation to receive them, some prepping a spare lounge-turned-reception area while others headed straight for the hangar. A team readied the med bay for action.

Another voice, gruff but feminine, spoke over the Nestia private comms. “Inta, we’ve found survivors as well. A couple; these two are pretty beat up, three broken bones between them, two arms and a leg. First aid has been administered, but they’ll need further attention.”

“Thanks, Artona. I understood.” Inta relayed the information to Devens, who began coordinating medical efforts and mobilizing a team to the hangar to receive patients. She sent a dozen nurses and assistants to the hangars, who set up an initial intake station where they could perform initial diagnoses and bring patients to the med bay if their condition was serious or to the reception room, located in one of the repurposed lounges.

Artona was first to return to the Nestia and the developing aid station and hospital developing below as Ben was further out. The first report of her return was the sonic boom as her pod sliced through the air at supersonic speeds. The modified pod’s speed dropped on final approach until Artona slowed it just outside the hangar, eased in, and touched down softly on the deck.

The canopy melted away as the medical team rushed to the pod. “Two injuried, male and female human. The woman, Janet, has a fractured left humerus, the man, Caleb, has a broken radius and possible ulna as well as a femur fracture.”

Artona’s stoic search and rescue partner, Londo Sarn, rattled off the relevant details to the medical staff in a crisp, professional manner. ‘He may have the personality of a rock, but he’s good when it counts,’ Artona thought to herself.

Londo turned his seat and assisted the nurses loading the patients onto the gurneys. Once they had pushed the hovering beds clear of the pod on their way to the med bay, Londo rotated his seat to face forward again. “I’m pretty sure I spotted a few more people not far from the last pickup. If we hurry, we can get there before that rain hits their location.”

“Alright then,” Artona replied, with a subtle grin. “Better buckle up, buttercup; I’m about to show you what this pod can really do.”

A hint of nervousness cracked his stony expression. “Ah, okay. Ready?”

The canopy flowed up and melted closed, and Artona piloted the pod back into the sky. A short ways out, a devilish grin crept across her face. “And ... punch it!” She said, cackling madly, as the pod shot off in a burst of speed, leaving a thunderclap in her wake as it streaked back to their previous position.

“Take it easy on the new guy,” Inta said into Artona’s earpiece, listening as she continued to laugh maniacally.

“Just a bit of fun,” Artona replied, sparing a quick glance behind her. The Silvestrian’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he white knuckled the hand grips to either side of his seat.

In the hangar, the day quickly developed a rhythm; a pod would return, occasionally a couple at the same time, with survivors who would be efficiently unloaded and tended to by the medical teams, then whisked away to the upper decks for further treatment. All the while, beneath the silver hull of the hovering Nestia, the ground crew worked quickly to prepare the way for the mobile hospital.

Just after noon, Jyn called the Nestia on the common communications channel. “Command, we are ready to begin deploying the facilities structure down here. Send the crates down, and we’ll get started right away.”