Chapter 8

Xi Pegasi
Planetary Survey Site Six
March 28, 2057

Firelight flickered off the sides of the rovers, illuminating the campsite and plunging the surrounding area into even deeper darkness. Overhead, high, thin clouds hid the Milky Way and muted the glow from the largest moon. Maria lay back on her sleeping bag and gazed into the sky. “What are we going to call this planet? And that moon?”

Hollis chuckled. “I don’t know, but we probably won’t get to name it.” He tossed a twig into the fire. “We just get to take samples and get eaten by the locals.”

“That won’t happen anymore,” Roger eased himself into a more comfortable position on the rock he was using for a seat. “Manuel’s people were told to watch us much more closely. They can see just about anything that’s trying to sneak up on us.”

Tony snorted. “I should’ve had better security.”

Hollis looked into his coffee cup. “We all learned from it. I am the team leader, and I share the responsibility.” He emptied the contents of his cup, and then he stood up, crossed to the cooking grate by the fire, and poured himself another cup from the improvised coffee pot. Roger had shown them how to make cowboy coffee, and Hollis found that he liked it.

Roger sipped the steaming liquid in his own cup, and then set it beside him on the equipment box. He pulled out his PDA and tapped the power button. “Okay, we want to go to Survey Site Nine, right?”

“Right,” Maria agreed.

“Okay, it’s twelve hundred sixty-eight kilometers almost due east. That’s a long hop for the plane. We will need fuel here and at the other end to transfer everyone. Manuel’s surveillance people can find us a good landing site, and we can have them drop fuel to us before we even arrive.”

“How’s the weather?” Hollis glanced at the high clouds drifting overhead.

“The forecasters are saying there could be some rain over the water and inland, but it’s supposed to be scattered showers. They’ve only had a couple of weeks to collect data, but their forecasts are pretty accurate.” Roger paged through his notes. “The issue is how much we can move. I’d like to get another couple of planes dropped to us. We still have the assembly equipment on the island, so that’s a good place to work on the new ones.”

“I heard the takeoff was pretty rough,” Tony laughed, “and the landing was worse.”

“Whoever told you that wasn’t kidding.” Roger grinned. “I thought we were going to come apart. Those,” he pointed toward the dark shape of the turboprop, “are tough birds.”

Hollis looked at the transport speculatively. “How did they build that so fast? I know they didn’t have one in storage.”

“No.” Roger put his datapad away. “The turbines were fabricated from spares for other equipment, and the instrument packages, and most of the rest of the flight deck, are shuttle spares. The assemblers made everything else. We brought enough equipment to make several autonomous assembler units, and two of them were running when I left. The only worry they had was that the design couldn’t be flight-tested. But, it worked just fine.”

Everyone looked up as Rita Johanovich walked into the ring of light. “Okay, the plane is ready to fly.” She pulled a shop towel from her coveralls leg pocket and wiped her hands. “Where are we going next?”

“A better site about thirteen hundred kilometers east. We hope it’s better,” Maria chuckled.

“Thirteen hundred kilometers?”

Maria raised herself up on one elbow. “Yes, why?”

“If you’re planning a non-stop trip, you won’t make it.”

“It has a fifteen hundred kilometer range,” Roger protested.

“Not with the gear down.” Rita picked out a meal from the storage unit and sat down on an empty equipment box. “And those oversized tires don’t fit in the gear wells. With that drag, you’re looking at a thousand kilometers, tops.”

Tony pulled gently at his beard as he thought. “How about extra tanks?”

Rita looked at nothing for a moment, and then she nodded. “That’d work, but you could only carry half as much cargo.”

“How much can the plane handle with the regular tires?” Hollis shrugged. “There’s a few good runs of smooth rock and ground here.”

“Be careful,” Rita warned. “The gear is strong, but it won’t take a really hard shot, like a wheel dropping into a hole at hundred KPH.”

“If the ground is smooth, though?” Maria sat up.

Rita pointed her spoon at the ground. “As long as it’s like this, the plane can handle unimproved landing strips. No holes, rocks or soft ground.”

“There we go, then. We take one of the mini rovers and a small crew. They find a decent landing area, mark it and map it, and we clear one here in the meantime.” Maria smiled. “Or, you all do it while I analyze soil samples.”

“Hm,” Hollis smiled fondly at her. “That division of labor formula sounds familiar. I do the grunt work, and she does the research.”

“That’s because I’m the smart one,” Maria purred sweetly. Hollis grinned as the others chuckled.

Roger stood and picked up his cup. “I need to go relieve Yamina, and I don’t want to be late. See you all in the morning.”

Maria watched as Roger walked away. A small smile played around the corners of her mouth, and she shook her head. She caught Rita’s eyes on her, and she giggled.

“What is it?” Rita grinned at Maria’s reaction.

“Roger. Well, Roger and Yamina.”

“What about them?” Hollis looked blankly at Maria.

“Men.” Maria ignored her husband and giggled again, and then she sat up fully, mindful of her cast. “Yamina’s husband was on Shuttle Four when it blew up, and Roger’s wife died right after we entered orbit. She had been in a coma since we transited the wormhole.”

“That’s a little soon, isn’t it?” Rita said sharply.

“No, it’s not like that.” Maria reached out for Hollis’ hand and he took it. “They hadn’t really talked,” she stood with Hollis’ help, “until a few hours ago, but Roger’s face lit up when he saw her. I’ve seen that look before.” She smiled slyly at Hollis.

Hollis blushed as she scored on him a second time. “How about I get you into bed while I still have a shred of dignity left?” His blush deepened as he realized what he had said, and another round of delighted laughter circled the campfire.

Maria leaned against him. “I think I will take him up on his generous offer. Good night, everyone.”

The morning sun greeted the departing team as they waited for the shuttle to arrive. The previous day’s fuel drop had only been enough to fill the turboprop’s tanks, and they needed more fuel for the extra fuselage tank. A distant rumble reached their ears, as one of the security teams called out and pointed to the southeast.

Roger shaded his eyes with his hand, scanning the cloud-decked sky for the arriving shuttle. Yamina stood beside him, and she raised her binoculars. “There,” she pointed, handing the binoculars to Roger.

“Thanks.” Roger peered thorough the instrument and soon located the sleek craft as it dropped through the lowest cloud layer. The craft banked left, and the nose rose as the pilot reduced power for the approach.

“Two minutes, everyone,” Hollis’ voice came over the teams’ comm channel. “Keep alert.” Airdrops were routine, but never safe. If a pallet hung in the shuttle’s cargo deck, the drag could bring the craft down.