James Scotson - Planets Falling

Melat is well physically. However, she was dazed after the drop and has been sleeping heavily for the past few hours. We’re still expecting her to pilot the shuttle to the surface. We plan to let her sleep as we prep our supplies. We’ll wake her when we’re ready to go in the morning. I hope she’s more coherent then.

Prep is going as expected. Gorian has debuted her probes. They look like fat dragonflies. They’re designed to fly around the planet and drop tiny geologic sensors along the surface. Iggy has been calibrating a series of atmospheric samplers to give us precise compositional data about the organic molecules being produced by the plant life. I’m in charge of biological collections. Verat is primarily sampling surface water chemistry. We’ve noticed one container that has not been touched. I asked Fromer about it and he ignored me. I need to assert my command now. Uncle Fen will support me.

The tense crew was assembled in the cargo hold. Their equipment was packed, arranged, and locked down in the shuttle. Grey stood in front of them. “We’ve been through a lot during the past two days. In six hours, we’ll head to the planet. I needn’t remind you, I hope, that our mission hasn’t started yet. The business with the drop is behind us and we need to focus on the task ahead. We’ve drilled for this moment for weeks and each of you know your jobs. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Savor every instant.”

Minns, a skinny soldier with bags hanging under her eyes, threw an empty bottle into the recycler. “How sure are you that Mel’s in shape to ferry us down there? And more importantly to get us back? She’s not looking so great you know. Shouldn’t we wait for backup? We didn’t sign up for this kind of mess.”

“Melat is fine,” Fromer responded.

Grey reasserted himself. “Gorian’s already sent a transmission back to the Platform. Although there are no other long-range vessels and pilots on staff back there, our request has been relayed to the Institute. They’ll send a ship to the Platform in a standard day. If we’re stranded, we send a message to the navigational network and rescue will be immediate.”

Fromer was less sure that help would come. He looked at the others and thought many would agree with him.

Fen stood up. “I suggest we all get some rest before tomorrow. On behalf of the Institute leadership, I assure you that the Families are very excited about this effort. This expedition will be highlighted in our long history. You will all be commended and will receive bonuses for your bravery and perseverance.”

The crew members found places to rest. Few of them slept.

When the cabin lights rose and the time to depart neared, Melat was already in the shuttle running diagnostic checks. The bedraggled crew marveled at her new-found energy. If she was harmed in any way by her romp through the Raven’s circuitry, it wasn’t apparent. Only bruises and scabs on her hands betrayed her recent trauma. “Good morning all,” she muttered while scrolling through the shuttle’s systems screen. “Green lights across the board. A good day for some ordinary flying. Woohoo I feel good about this.”

Shuttles were interesting beasts. They navigated by altering the density of atmospheric gases around them. To descend, they thickened the air at the hull and slid toward the surface like a child racing down a slide. Its descent speed was controlled by altering the density of the air, making it thicker or lighter. To rise, the ship reduced the density of gas above it and the air below it created lift, much like the wings of ancient planes on old earth.

Melat turned. “Buckle up my friends. We’re departing. Train’s a leaving.” She flipped switches and pulled a harness over her shoulders.

The crew exchanged nervous looks.

Clicking and shuffling filled the space. The shuttle’s door slid closed, the air grew heavy, and in moments they were descending toward the planet. The Raven was barely visible, a vinette in a backdrop of stars. The shuttle shuddered slightly as they entered the mocha and cream atmosphere. The thrusters ceased and they began silently riding the drafts — a sophisticated sailboat gliding toward the surface. No turbulence was felt because the computer compensated for it.

Only Melat’s sensors knew when they approached the ground. The shuttle was enveloped by a thick fog; all they could see was a bright, brown haze. Fromer wondered how anything could grow on the ground. As if Grey could read Fromer’s mind, he commented, “The mist’s a lot thinner down here than it used to be. A surprising amount of light penetrates to the surface. Look at all the growth. It’s remarkable.”

The ship landed softly in a puddle of muck. The only sound was the sucking of mud as the pads sank into the ground.

“Thanks y’all for flying Melat Spacelines.” Melat clapped her hands, unlatched her harness, stood up, and pulled a bottle of water from a small hatch. She downed it in a single gulp.

Grey stood and stretched. His skin remained tight after healing from the burns. “Remember that we’re here during a summer in the northern hemisphere. It’s going to be hot and muggy out there. If you feel light headed, dizzy, or nauseous, stop what you’re doing and rest. Your suits should cool you down, but they only can do so much. We have plenty of provisions and are in no hurry. We want to do the best work. So take your time.” He looked at Fen. His uncle smiled approvingly.

Fromer glanced at Grey. Grey nodded in approval and Fromer spoke. “If you see anything unusual, notify me immediately. I do not care if I hear you belch or break wind, keep communications open — please.”

“I’m incapable of either bodily function, Mr. Fromer. Naurons do not digest using fermentation. Rather, we have special enzymes that digest our food.” Iggy noted to general laughter.

“Thanks for keeping things light Ig. Very illuminating.” Grey smiled slightly. “To follow up on Fromer’s comments, the terrain here’s fairly challenging. All surfaces will be slick with algae, moss, and a few lichens. You all have positioning systems loaded with the most recent elevational data. That doesn’t mean that every hole, crevasse, and boulder is in our digital space. So, please stay sharp. Check your climbing gear now to make sure it’s functional.”

The crew turned toward the shuttle door as it slid opened with a whir and a click. Everyone except Fromer and his security detail tumbled out onto the surface. The humidity clung to them. The air was viscous, an amoeba engulfing its prey. Moving their limbs was an effort. Many of them had rarely or never experienced high humidity in their climatic controlled environments. This was going to be a miserable experience.

“Where’s that roach Fromer?” Verat stared at the open portal of the shuttle, his feet settling in the mud. “Fromer, you and your entourage come outta there.”

Grey walked back up the gangway and peered inside. Fromer and the four soldiers were casually talking. Each donned a sidearm, slinging a rifle and a loaded pack.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Grey was clearly incensed. He turned back to the others to make sure they could not see the soldiers.

Fromer turned. “Grey, please relax. I have some explaining to do.” He then revealed the cause of the events on the Platform and the Raven.

Grey sat down. “I cannot believe that you’d willingly endanger our lives by allowing us to travel here in a ship that may have been sabotaged. How are we going to explain this to the crew. You’re making me look like an idiot. We can’t afford hesitation down here. We’ve too much to learn.”

Fromer leaned back. “Mel went through all the systems checks. She assured me that we were safe to go. I did not want to alarm the crew. If we did not go, then the perpetrator within the Institute would have succeeded in preventing your expedition.”