EVAC: IGNITION Read online

  With the cable exposed, EMO set to work repairing the crushed wiring and soon the power began to flow again. A truck came down the ramp to tow the damaged truck back up to the surface for repair and two men stayed behind to tie power cable back to the cliff wall.

  It had taken an hour to finish the job and Stefan’s thoughts turned back to Haruka’s predicament. They packed up and headed off for the Lunar Hotel.

  It had been several hours since anyone had spoken to Healey. He sat, sprawled on the leather couch, re-reading Herman’s message with a re-run of the day’s Off Earth News playing in the background.

  “Back to our main story; there appears to have been some malfunctions at the Magnificent Desolation Hotel on The Moon. We have had video footage from a tourist that shows panic stricken people running through smoke filled corridors.” A square appeared in the top right corner. “A statement from the manager, Patrick Crouch only confirms a malfunction with the ventilation systems and reassures that the situation is under control.”

  Healey knew it was worse than that; he had been monitoring Haruka’s communications and had contacted Peterson for the true story. He would wait a little longer before calling Stefan.

  Healey balled up his sandwich wrapper and threw it towards the bin, missing. He scanned channels to find the start of the next news report. Anchorwoman, Sam Weismann, looked as beautiful as ever, Healey thought and he called out, “Volume up!”

  “and just to re-cap for those of you that have just joined us: there is now confirmation of a terrorist attack on the Moon’s premier hotel, The Magnificent Desolation. It is unknown who the perpetrators are ....”

  Healey stood and stretched his aching muscles, stiff from inactivity. “Right,” he said aloud, “time to get to work,” and he finally made the call.

  “When will you arrive at the hotel Stefan?”

  “We’re about fifteen minutes away. What is going on down there, Haruka’s messages are bizarre?”

  “It seems it is a terrorist attack. Two pylons are down on their protective perimeter and a meteor shower is imminent. A bomb went off and took out the main life support and the team are running around looking for bombs – it’s madness!”

  “So, what are we going to do?”

  “The main concern at the moment is the perimeter. I’m going to meet you there, I’ll bring your new ship, and maybe together we can get the lasers back in action before any significant meteors turn up.”

  “Okay Healey, I’ll contact you again when we arrive – oh and maybe you should bring Eileen along, I’m sure they could use all the help they can get.”

  Carrying a hand-held computer, Haruka returned to the tunnel system with John and two burley security officers armed with stun guns. Marcus came along to clear a path for the group by bypassing the locking mechanisms on the doors that blocked their way.

  As promised Marcus did his job well and the team made good progress. The final door opened on to the Greenhouse. “Right I’ll leave you here and get back to the command centre. Do you think you can take it from here, John?”

  John took the terminal from his tutor, “I think I’ve got it.”

  “I’m going to see if I can find a frequency to reach you, then I can talk you through any further problems.” The trio said their farewells and entered the vast chamber.

  It was a greenhouse only by name as the walls were not made of glass like the ones found in Earth gardens; the walls were concrete and covered with panels emitting artificial day light. Sweet smelling moist air filled their nostrils as they entered the cavernous biosphere. Tall glass tubes rose from ground to ceiling, filled with a variety of green leafed plants in their hydroponic compartments.

  Distracted from their predicament, Haruka expressed her amazement, “This is fantastic!” The tallest man from their security detail explained the technicalities of growing vegetables in space and told them that the glass tubes contained algae for oxygen production. Some areas where separated to give specific lighting requirements; the vegetables needed a night time phase to allow them to flower.

  It was an uplifting space; the light bathed the room in a subtle, calming, blue hue. The group wandered for a moment, craning their necks upwards as they walked through the artificial forest of green tubes. They couldn’t help but be impressed despite their predicament.

  John grew impatient, “What are we looking for then?”

  The security guard took the terminal from Haruka’s hand and spoke again, “There are three areas that could be sabotaged; here in the systems management room,” he pointed at the screen, “this service tunnel where the circuits can be accessed and over here where you’ll find the ducting system and fans.”

  John studied the plans and said, “Well the system management is nearest, let’s make our way over their first and then we can split up and cover the other two.” They continued a few metres and entered a side room about a quarter of the size of the first. This room emanated violet light to encourage flowering for the vegetables and fruits. There were layers of plants in transparent shallow trays, their roots dangling in a bath of liquid. Every possible variety was grown here with astonishing results. Haruka stopped to examine a strawberry plant smothered in fruit. Nobody was looking so she carefully picked one and popped it into her mouth, delighting in the sweet juiciness. The two security officers strode ahead, oblivious to spectacle but John spun around taking everything in.

  “Hey Haruka, this place is incredible – I’ve got to bring my father out here when this is all over.” He ran ahead and shouted back, “Look at these bananas?” Above them, horizontal tree trunks stretched across the room on which, enormous green fruits hung like washing on a line.

  “Shhh,” one of the security guards put his finger to his mouth and John fell silent. Tiptoeing forward the group huddled at the door to the system management room.

  “Stay here!” one whispered to the EVAC crew, motioning them to keep a cautious distance. He then mimed instructions to his partner; taking up strategic positions before bursting into the room with stun guns poised.

  The room was deserted. Haruka let go of the breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She inched into the room behind John, eyes scanning for intruders. John raised his hand in a calming motion.

  Everywhere had to be searched, behind casings, under control tables, even the tiles on the ceiling were lifted but thankfully no explosives were found.

  They split up at this point; Haruka and John paired with a security guard and ventured off in pursuit of the other possible targets. Haruka took the next turn on the left towards the ventilation fans, while John’s group descended a ladder shaft in the direction of the access tunnel.

  John zipped his padded jacket right up to his chin and exhaled deeply before carefully following the guard to the corridor below. They rounded a bend and entered the access tunnel. It was twenty metres high and circular with ducting and wiring attached to the walls, heading off in the distance. Blinking emergency lighting confused their vision as they tried to spot any movement, but then the security guard took John’s arm and lifted it up, the torch in his hand illuminated a section ahead that looked disturbed. John pocketed his torch and the pair started jogging silently.

  As they drew nearer they encountered a black mass that rose ahead. They slowed, cautiously. On closer inspection, the shadows revealed metal trunks but the pile was strange – they had been moved to a pile in the centre of the tunnel, some stacked to create stepping stones to the electrical cabling. A beam of light shone out from the boxes in their direction, blinding them for a second; a torch. The two men froze and listened. The light had gone out. John indicated to the guard to circle the area and try and cut off the assailant’s escape. They moved silently into position but the mystery figure was fully aware of their tactics and bounded out of the crates between the two men and ran back the way they came.

  John swore loudly and spun on his heel, searching desperately for movement. A square of light appeared and disappeared on the
wall to the right. John ran ahead trying to keep the image in his mind. With arms outstretched he fumbled for a door handle but his fingers were numb with cold and could barely distinguish the surfaces. A voice shouted out, “Your torch!”

  John couldn’t believe his stupidity and he angrily wrenched the torch from his pocket and twisted it into life.

  They had wasted valuable seconds; the figure was ten metres ahead at least but the passageway was narrow and difficult to run through at speed and they felt they were gaining. Another door opened.... some kind of stock room full of supplies; this was their chance.

  The security guard now took charge and pushed past John. He withdrew a weapon from a rucksack and adjusted the controls before sprinting after the man at speed. Each time the dark figure dodged a container the guard gained ground, he was nearly in reach. The guard held out the stun gun in front of him, aiming for the small of the back and pressed the button. Two electrified bolts shot from the gun but the figure darted right and ducked round an obstacle. A bolt lay on the floor ahead and the guard kicked it with frustration.

  “Did you get him?” John enquired with hope.

  “No, the little bastard got away. Come on.”

  A little further on, the guard bent down and picked up the other bolt, studying it carefully. “This one’s delivered some of its charge, it must have dropped out.” The two men exchanged looks and scrambled on with increased determination. There was no sign of him at the other end of the room, only another door, they burst through, weapons drawn to a screaming crowd.

  Unknown to John and the security guard, their winding through the warren of tunnels had led them to the bunker. Over a dozen people were huddled together; scared and cold outside an entrance to the emergency shelter. A man was banging on the door and punching buttons on an intercom demanding to be let in.

  John shouted to the group, “Hey hold it a minute, we’re looking for someone.”

  Before anyone could reply the door opened and the crowd spilled in, terrified of their pursuers. John touched his earpiece, “Haruka, we’re in pursuit of a suspect – I think we’re at the main bunker. I need you to go back see if they planted a bomb.” He gave Haruka directions to the area they found the figure while he threaded his way through the crowd. He scanned the people for a figure in black; half of them were wearing dark clothes and the new group became enveloped by the tourists and workers already in the room, some were being wrapped in blankets to confuse the scene even more.

  John was approached by an officer and more security staff. “What the hell is going on out there?” The officer was obviously agitated; they had been trapped for an hour with little contact from the outside. The arrival of the two men revitalised his spirits but he soon realised this was not a rescue.

  John explained the events that led them to this point in a hushed tone, his eyes roaming the room for any reactions; no-one was watching. The officer, Zieliński, understood immediately what had to be done. He started grouping the people. With help from his staff he separated the new arrivals from the ones he knew or recognised from their time spent in confinement. It was difficult, there were hundreds of people and a number of fresh groups had joined them over the hour. Some people had kept to themselves and Zieliński wasn’t sure. The people started asking questions.

  All this time, John and his companion wandered the room. John read the name badge on the security guards jacket: REED. He studied the man that had been assigned to protect him and assumed he probably had more skills of detection than he did himself. “Hey, Reed, what are you thinking?”

  Reed considered a moment. He was tall and wiry and he walked the room as if stalking a deer. “Well Sir,” his voice was low and croaky, “the assailant was approximately five-five, slight build, I think quite athletic by the way they got past us.”

  “How old then - young?” John questioned.

  “Not necessarily, terrorists can hold a grudge for decades. And I’m also thinking it could be a woman.”

  John stood for a moment, he hadn’t imagined that, he had to re-evaluate all over again. Turning around, he picked out all the women in the small group Zieliński had assembled. Most were silver haired, there was an Asian girl that fitted the bill and then he noticed a blonde girl who distanced herself from the group.

  In the thick of the larger group an argument broke out, Reed was quick to respond. “Can I help you, madam?”

  A heavy-set woman in fine clothes pointed a ring covered finger at a pretty girl in her early twenties and barked, “She wasn’t in our group – I’ll swear on it.” A young man came to the girl’s defense, “Don’t be stupid, she’s been with me all the time!”

  “Don’t give me that- I’ve been watching you – you’ve been skulking around on your own. You’re the only one here that doesn’t look terrified.” Murmurs of suspicion rose around the couple and Reed pulled the pair away from the argument, much to the mob’s pleasure.

  Zieliński removed some people from a side room and brought the couple in to be interviewed. They were in their late twenties and dressed in the casual European style. Zieliński sat them down and started the questions. The man spoke for them, telling them how disgusted he was with their treatment and how his father wouldn’t stand for it. The officer brushed the comments aside and took a computer tablet from a technician. “The manifesto tells us you won the tickets in the lottery – that can be rigged.” The couple looked uncomfortable.

  John was staring at the girl’s jacket. It was a khaki colour and more utility than he would have expected for a stylish young lady, and it was also too big. John whispered something to Reed. Reed stepped forward, “Excuse me madam, would you please take off your jacket.”

  “No, she will not!” her partner wrapped his arms protectively around the girl’s shoulders but the protests were enough to seal their fate. John pulled the man away while Reed roughly removed the jacket, causing the girl to squirm and swear. He stared at her black shirt for a moment before pulling it down at the shoulders to reveal a round, pink burn from the stun bolt.

  Back in the access tunnel, Haruka found the stack of crates described by John. She carefully climbed up to a main junction of cables and looked for something bomb – like. It wasn’t hard to find. A crude device connected to a plastic explosive was glued to the wall. Haruka felt her pockets for her penknife and feverishly tried to prise away the sticky adhesive until it came free. “What do I do with it now?” she asked the guard. He came over and shrugged, “Bomb disposal’s not part of my training.”

  “Me neither. There must be somewhere we can put it where it won’t make too much damage. Where’s the nearest exit?”

  “Waste disposal, but it’s about ten minutes away.” They both looked around and then Haruka remembered a room they passed earlier, the room that contained the hydroponic food. Running as fast as they could they retraced their steps and found the room full of ten- metre tall metal vats. She climbed the ladder on the side of the container which was difficult as she had to hold the bomb in one hand. Carefully balancing herself on the rungs, she launched her free arm up to the next rung and pushed hard with her knees. It was slow but Haruka’s determination forced her on and when she reached the top she only allowed herself a second to catch her breath. A circular hatch gave access to the vat, probably for sample tests, she rested the bomb carefully next it and started to release the clasps. Haruka became aware of her erratic breathing and tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths. “How did I get volunteered for this suicide mission?” she said, mainly to herself.

  “Oh sorry. Did you want to swap? I haven’t been exactly chivalrous have I!”

  It took all her strength to ease the lid back without banging on the vat, “Well to be fair I do like to push gender roles,” her voice crackled under the strain. The lid was weighty and it took all her strength to ease the lid back without banging on the vat. She looked inside; the liquid appeared inky black and smelt earthy. She paused.

  “What’s the matter, just t
hrow it in!” he shouted from beneath.

  Haruka turned and looked below at the security guard, the distance made her head swim. “What if it makes it go off?”

  “What choice have we got, just chuck it in and close the hatch.”

  Haruka swallowed hard and took hold of the bomb in one hand and the hatch in the other. She played the action over in her head until she was confident she could do it in one movement.

  She did it. Within a second Haruka started her descent; hooking her ankles around the sides of the ladder and pulling her jacket sleeves over her hands, she slid down the ladder, painfully slowly due to the gravity and didn’t breathe again until she hit the ground.

  The two took a second to share their relief before charging down the corridor to what they considered a safe distance.

  In a darkened room, the two suspects waited; the girl sitting at the table, confident and defiant, the man, crouched on the floor with his head bent into his knees. Miss Yakovitch burst in with Reed; he was instrumental in their apprehension and shown great deduction skills, he was going to take the lead.

  “Well, you two are in a right predicament; I suggest you just admit what you’ve done. We may be able to limit the ramifications if you co-operate,” he spoke like a Sergeant Major, betraying his past.

  Unabashed, the girl adjusted her clothing as she stood. As if about to address a church congregation she peered down at her audience and spouted her defense, “I am disgusted with the way I have been treated. There I was running for my life in this disaster zone when I find myself pursued by…. nutters and get shot!”

  Yakovitch leant forward to interject, “Actually it was a more humane stun gun....”

  “I don’t care what it’s called – it bloody hurt!”