The Dark Between The Stars

TWENTY-THREE
LEE ISWANDER

Sheol’s Tower Three was located in the most intense part of the thermal plume, and when the thick support struts approached the melting point, the tower’s legs buckled. In a slow and inexorable plunge, the tall structure folded over and collapsed on top of the smelter barge that had docked to the base to take evacuees. The comm channel was a storm of screams.

Iswander gasped, “There’s no way to fix this!” He wanted to call up his technical reports, prove that he had done everything prudent to provide a safe environment. This was going to look very bad for him.

Rlinda demanded his attention. “How many personnel are stationed on Sheol?”

He called up the data. “Over two thousand—two thousand seventeen, I think.” Then he remembered that Elisa Reeves had gone off after her husband and son. “No, two thousand fourteen.”

“Too many for the ships you have,” Robb pointed out.

Iswander couldn’t argue with that. “We have shielded facilities, heat-resistant smelter barges, bolt-holes in the towers. We did not foresee the need for a complete evacuation of personnel.”

On Tower Two, shielded Worker compies kept working at the evac hatch, while two large rescue ships circled, looking for a way to retrieve the stranded personnel. Through the magnification screens on his desk, Iswander saw one of the shielded robots spark and collapse, its exterior skeleton melting. It dropped away from the hatch and fell like an insect sprayed with poison. Another compy took its place, working at the same ruined controls.

Half of the geothermal sensors positioned around the worksite had already burned out. Through the confusing squawk of alarms, Iswander heard an even more urgent tone: on the warning screen, a spike in the readings indicated an intense heat column rising through the magma near Tower Two.

He signaled to the Tower Two supervisor. “A new lava geyser is forming. Prepare yourselves. There’s going to be—” He stopped, knowing there was no way the supervisor could prepare herself.

Vomiting molten rock covered the hull of Tower Two. The spray hammered both of the waiting rescue ships like liquid cannonballs, destroyed the tower’s evac hatch, vaporized the compies, and hardened in the air to form an impenetrable seal over the structure.

The two damaged rescue ships reeled, unable to maintain control. One engine exploded, and the first ship tumbled into the sea of lava. The other ship managed to circle a little longer before skidding to a landing on the access deck of Tower Two, but the weakened deck collapsed and dumped the second vessel down into the magma.

Iswander reeled, stunned to think of how many people had just died, but also angry and frustrated that the structural engineers had let him down again. The deck should have been sturdy enough. They had run tests!

Rlinda grabbed Iswander’s arm, pulling him toward the door of his office. “Come on, we’re getting to the Curiosity now. You’re not going to be stupid and go down with your ship.”

He followed her, surprised by her comment. He had no intention whatsoever of going down with the facility. The structure shook and slid, and Iswander knew it wouldn’t be long before those support struts buckled as well. Captain Kett was right: they had to get out of here.

All five smelter barges had now declared emergencies. Temperatures inside their enclosed chambers were rising and there was no way they could escape. Every crewmember aboard was going to be roasted alive—the barge crews had to realize that by now.

He, Rlinda, and Robb staggered along uncertain corridors, racing toward the exit tunnel and the waiting Curiosity. Rlinda huffed as she ran. Robb touched his comm. “Better not leave without us, Tasia.”

“I’m already fully loaded, sixty-three people, but I’ve got room for a couple more. You may have to sit on my lap.”

“If that’s what it takes,” he said. Five other evacuation ships lifted off.

Most of the people assigned to Tower One had already gotten away, but the bulk of Iswander’s personnel were out at the various worksites for the day shift. The processors and materials handlers were all in Tower Two, and the off-shift workers were in the crew quarters on Tower Three. Iswander felt a heavy certainty that they were all lost already. Nothing he could do about it.

He felt overwhelmed, sickened, and furious. “This was supposed to be safe. My engineers, my designers, my specialists were all—”

Rlinda cut him off. “We can point fingers later. Get aboard.”

As he ran, he realized this would have repercussions throughout the Roamer clans. They would learn of this disaster right before the election of the new Speaker. Garrison Reeves was on record with his warnings, and an inspection of records would show that Iswander Industries had operated on very narrow safety margins, had declined to use superior—but more expensive—materials.

Many people were going to die here. That was unavoidable. He had to rescue as many as possible. If he had, say, a ten percent casualty rate, then he would still look good, that he had led them through a disaster. The sympathy vote might even be stronger than his own campaign.

But he knew he was going to lose more than ten percent. A lot more.

As they charged through the access tube to the waiting cargo ship, Iswander felt heat blazing around him. The walls of the thermally shielded tunnel had a dull shimmer, nearing the melting point. If even the smallest crack broke through, the searing temperatures would incinerate them in an instant. Iswander didn’t intend to be one of the casualties.

Tasia’s voice shouted across the comm, “The outer section of the landing deck just collapsed. All available ships have launched, and we are going to be gone in a minute if you’re not aboard!”

They raced through the tunnel into the crowded loading deck, the last ones aboard, and Robb sealed the hatch. He touched his comm. “Go, Tasia!”

Iswander collided with a group of panicked, sweating workers. They looked at him, recognized the chief. Most were too stunned to say anything, their faces red, their eyes wide, but several glared at him. He saw their accusing expressions—and knew it was just the beginning. They already knew who to blame.

With a lurch, the Curiosity lifted off just as the low landing deck dropped away. The structural sheets folded and sank into the lava, where they melted in a discolored swirl.

Rlinda shouldered evacuees aside, clearing a path to the cockpit. The ship was packed with people, but the numbers were deceptive. Iswander was responsible for 2,014 people, and only a small fraction of them had gotten away.

The Curiosity rose into the sky, and Iswander saw the other half of the split planet looming huge overhead. Tasia fought against thermal buffeting.

Once the evac ships departed, there would be no survivors left behind on Sheol. Some would die instantly in a flash of heat; those who managed to reach temporary shelter would bake slowly in a horrible death.

He had to start thinking and planning. He had a very serious problem.