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The broadcast repeated until we flew below the level from which our radios could receive the signal. When we landed, Terse had to be assisted from the flyer. He literally could not walk on his own.
I had relayed the entire conversation to everyone in the compound who cared to listen, human and Minsan alike. I don’t believe in keeping people, any people, in the dark. These people had been kept there for far too long. More than a hundred Minsans met us at the flyer. They were all waving their hands in the air next to their faces.
I looked at Terse, who was rapidly recovering his composure. “What are they doing?” I asked.
“This gesture has not been seen in our culture for over one hundred solar cycles,” he said breathlessly. There were tears shining in his eyes. “The last such display was when a particularly gifted singer performed a lengthy creation which left all who heard it in emotional ecstasy.”
“So, it’s like what? Applauding?” I puzzled.
“It is more like what you described to the prophets as a standing ovation, I believe,” he beamed at me. “Captain, I’m understanding that they now consider you to be some sort of folk hero, to steal a term from Frank’s presentation.”
I was stunned speechless. I had simply stood my ground for the rights of all free people. As I stood in awe of these charmingly simple folk, the klaxon began sounding. All Minsans clapped their hands over their ears. Many began the shuffling skip which was their best effort at running. They were all headed for the woods surrounding the compound.
Snatching my radio from its holster, I called Bea on the security channel. “Status,” I snapped when she answered.
“Captain, we’re under attack. Multiple weather events are occurring in our immediate vicinity and impact is imminent.”
“Sound General Quarters,” I ordered.
“General quarters, general quarters; all crew, man your combat stations,” blared on the command override of my radio. I could hear the directive echoing around the compound.
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I WAS IN CC WITHIN two minutes. Frank had all displays up and running. The color graphic weather screens showed the compound as the center of a 100 mile radius. To our west, out in the arid central region of the island, a dark wall approached at what I guessed to be around 40 miles per hour based on the looped display. On the ocean to our east, another hurricane could be seen forming less than fifty miles away. From the northern tip of the ovoid island, multiple convection layers were displayed on a separate screen, also moving toward us.
“This looks like demonstration mode for the system,” I commented inanely. My mind spun with the possibilities of which action to take first.
Frank gestured at other monitors where remote camera drones were transmitting live streaming video of the phenomenon. “The dark wall appears to be a Haboob, while the northern convection layers should start sprouting tornadoes as soon as a bowline forms. The wind shear is phenomenal. See the wall clouds starting to form? And you know what a hurricane is.”
“Isn’t a Haboob common to the deserts of western Asia and north Africa?” I blanched.
“Actually, they’re an intense dust storm carried on an atmospheric gravity current which can occur in any dry land regions where temperature gradients and winds facilitate them,” Sari quoted. Frank, Bea, and I all turned to gawk at her as if she had just declared her desire to assimilate. “They’re common to my home region, so I studied them when I was young.” She shrugged.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Frank asked with anxiety plain on his face, while raw fear danced across his eyes. His looked matched how I felt. I just wanted to run screaming into my private quarters and pull the blankets over my head.
“We lock down and ride it out,” I said softly. Putting my radio to my lips, I called for Lars. When he answered, I asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “What wind speeds are the compound structures rated to withstand?”
“All the original geodesic domes are anchored and built from established plans to handle 250 mile per hour winds,” he replied. “We didn’t know what we might discover on a new planet, so they’re over-engineered. Plus, the underground shelters beneath the living quarters would have to have a bomb dropped on them to do any real damage.”
We all breathed a collective sigh of relief before he continued. “But the dorms we’ve put up for the Minsans are a different story altogether. When we were told there was no severe weather on the planet, we built them to level one standards. A one hundred mile per hour wind will destroy them.”
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“WE’VE GOT TO GET ALL the dorm residents into the shelters below the living quarters before the storms arrive,” I was explaining to Mica. “You and Jovi need to contact them all. Urge the tree dwellers; convince them, they will not survive these storms in their nests.”
“I’m on it, sir,” Mica replied.
Looking at Sari, I checked my next decision point. “How many Minsa live in the trees and how many in dorms?”
“Last count, forty-four live in eleven dorms,” she responded instantly. “The remaining 256 live in the wild surrounding the compound. About three dozen live in sea caves on the beach. Another two dozen or so live in the trees between here and the ocean. Still other groups of pods live in caves along the central foothills. The majority of them live in the eastern woods.”
“Where do the prophets live?” I asked. An idea was beginning to form in my overstressed mind.
“No one seems to know,” Sari replied.
“I know,” Bea blurted. “It’s my job to know. They live in Tracy’s room. They say there’s something highly spiritual about it.” When Sari and I both looked at her quizzically, she shrugged. “They’re allies, there’s no denying it. They asked me to keep the information confidential unless someone needed to know. You need to know.”
Turning to Bea, I continued with my planning. “You and I are going to have a serious talk about need to know once this is over. For now, get three pilots and all three flyers. Send them to the sea caves and get them out of there. Drag them out if you must. As small as they are, cram as many as will fit into each flyer. Get them back here and underground. Frank, time available?”
“Boss, they’ve only got forty-five minutes before the eye hits the beach. Storm surge will already be high, and winds will be near or beyond safety-of-flight limits.”
“Damnit!” I shouted. Turning to Bea, I yelled. “Get to it, now. Also, post security at the exit to every occupied structure. We cannot allow anyone outside one of the main domes until Frank sounds the all clear. I’ll remain here with him. Sari, get to shelter with the others. Bea, pick a posting for yourself. I know you’ll want to be as close to the action as possible. Not here,” I added as she began to speak. “I’ve got security here. I need you where you’ll do the most good.”
“I was going to thank you for recommending yourself as security for this building,” she smiled. “With Jovi out of the security ranks, I only have enough staff for one per original dome.”
“Jovi...well crap,” I exhaled. “Standby, Bea.” Picking up the radio again, I called her. “Jovi, come in.”
“Yes, Captain?” she panted.
Status on the natives,” I asked.
“I’m headed for their location now. Sir, they’re not in the trees. None of them are. I reached out to them and Jian told me they’re all in a cave at the foot of Mount Butt. I’m making my best time there on foot to confirm.” Her voice was coming in short gasps, which was now explained.
“Mother of God, can we just catch one break here,” I moaned.
She was running through the woods between the compound and the low hills which dominated the eastern edge of the forest. The other side of the hills gave way to the desert interior of the island. The twin humps of the highest point were a geographical oddity which resembled human buttocks thrust into the sky. No official names had been given to any topographical landmarks, but Mount Butt had stuck almost immediately.
Turning to Frank, I looked at the scan where the Haboob was darkening the entire eastern third of the display. “Where is Mount Butt from the storm now?” I asked quietly. Two symbols appeared on the screen. The yellow wavering line was obviously the contours of the foothills. The flashing red dot had to be Jovi. “Time to impact?”
“Twenty minutes, sir,” Frank replied solemnly.
“Jovi, how far from the foothills are you in time, and do you know exactly where you’re going?” I asked anxiously.
“I’m maybe twenty minutes out, sir,” she replied immediately. “Once I hit the glade, I can pick up a little speed.” The glade was a large, grassy clearing with a small lake in the middle. It was where we had released our first fingerling stock. As she spoke, a freeform circle appeared halfway between the red dot and yellow line.
“Jovi, you’ve only got twenty minutes before the dust storm hits the foothills. If they’re not there, or if there is no cave, you won’t have time to get to safety before it comes over the hills,” I growled into the hand-held.
“They’ll be there sir, and I’ll stay with them. I trust my sisters.”
After a moment of contemplation, I keyed the radio again. “Copy that. Let us know when you’re out of danger.”
“Will do sir,” she replied. “And thank you for trusting me.”
“I had hoped to score one more security staff for you with her,” I said to Bea. “Get to your duties.”
Gouging my fingers through my hair, I turned back to Frank. “How long before the tornados hit?”
“The storm cells are rapidly organizing,” he replied. “They’ll be mesocyclonic in the next twenty to thirty minutes.”
“How long before the system is overhead?” I asked.
“Twenty to thirty minutes,” he replied again with a look in his eyes which belied his calm exterior. He was just as harried as I was. “The Haboob is also thirty minutes out. It looks like we’ll be wet and muddy all at the same time.”
“Yeah, and then the fat lady gets to sing.”
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I FOUND THE PROPHETS in Tracy’s old room. They were sitting on her bunk, huddled together to fit across the narrow width. Their heads were down on their chests and their eyes were closed. I almost walked back out soundlessly but decided it couldn’t wait. As I turned, Meng called to me. “Come in, Jack, we’ve been waiting for you.”
I walked across the small room and sat on the single chair next to the bed. One by one, they raised their heads and opened their eyes. Ling’s orbs were blazing while Meng’s were glowing blue dragon eyes. Zhi’s shimmered solid black like polished stone. Jian regarded me from yellow-gold tiger eyes. I should have been shocked; startled nearly out of my skin. Instead, calm had crept over me as I entered the room and I knew the ladies were hard at work connecting with me.
“We need a ride,” they all four said in unison. Jian spoke solo. “We need you to take us up in a flyer so we can see all the threats to The People at once.”
Trancelike, I lifted my radio from its clip on my waist. “Bea, come in,” I called calmly.
“Yes, sir, lifting off in the last flyer myself right now,” she explained in anticipation of a status request. “I didn’t have enough people to man security and fly the mission.”
“Bring yours down right away,” I ordered. “Land it as close to the living quarters as you dare. Do it now. Bontrager out.” I knew my sign off would get her attention. I only signed off with my last name when I was being just the Captain.
“We should make our best time to the exit,” I said, rising. The four of them joined hands and we were standing outside the living quarters. I danced back from them as if they were a snake coiled to strike. All four smiled at me while their eyes continued to shimmer, glow, and burn.
The sound of a flyer came from directly overhead as Bea adroitly dropped the aircraft fifteen feet away. Dust and debris filled the air as we all turned away and covered our eyes. As the engine spooled down, I moved to shepherd the prophets onto the craft. Except they weren’t there. Looking for Bea, I saw Jian sitting in the front copilot’s seat and the other three hip-to-hip across the two-seat rear bench. Bea was picking herself up off the ground.
“What happened?” I asked, hurrying to her side.
“I was watching you as the dust settled and was turning to exit the aircraft when they just...appeared,” she choked out. “It scared me so bad I threw myself out of the seat.”
“I know the feeling,” I concurred.
“So now they can teleport with their minds?” she said, obviously struggling with the idea.
“And take you with them if they choose,” I smiled. Her eyes got even bigger, if that was possible. I climbed in and applied full power even as I pulled my harness in place. Bea spun and ran to get clear of the blast.
We went straight up at maximum vertical acceleration. The radio came alive. “Captain, please confirm you are in control of your faculties,” Bea demanded.
“Flyer Two, identify your course of action and crew,” Frank ordered. As systems operator, he was responsible for all aircraft in the operational area.
“Captain, I was standing at the portal of the dining room and watched you...appear with the prophets outside the living quarters. Then they disappeared and you got on a flyer to blast out of here like a bat out of Hell. What’s going on?” Sampson called stridently over the frequency.
Pressing the button on the control yoke, I answered all three. “Frank, Bea, Sam; I’m fine. The ladies have a plan and they needed a ride. Sam, ask Bea what happened. Frank, advise the other flyers of my destination.” Unkeying the mic button, I glanced at Jian and asked. “Exactly what is our destination, ladies?”
“Right here will be fine,” I heard one reply from behind me. I really couldn’t tell their voices apart. I pulled the power back to hover at twelve thousand feet.
I keyed the yoke switch again to notify Control before he could ask. “Apparently, right here is fine, Frank. I’ll keep everyone posted.”
“What’s the plan, ladies?” I asked a lot more casually than I felt. When I received no reply, I glanced at Jian. What I saw forced me to set the auto-control for hover. Turning in my seat, I looked over my shoulder. I confirmed all four had their heads down and eyes closed, just like I’d found them in Tracy’s room.
I called Frank. “Control, the ladies are in some kind of trance. Status on the storms, please.”
“The Haboob is still coming...stand by...forward motion has ceased. That’s not possible; it’s a velocity-dependent occurrence. The visual monitors confirm. The storm is still a storm, it’s just not moving. I can see the dust swirling around, but it looks like it’s against an invisible wall.” He was silent, and I could picture him gaping at the screen in wonder.
“How about the other two storms, Frank?” I reminded.
“Sorry, Captain. The hurricane continues to advance and strengthen, while the convection cells have...just...vanished. They’re gone, sir. One minute they were there, the next they’re gone. Not a cloud in the sky. I’m turning the drone three sixty to confirm. Yep, nothing out here. Sir, I have no explanation.”
“Well, I certainly do,” I replied, chuckling.
“The dust storm is falling in upon itself, sir. It’s also gone now,” Frank said with awe and wonder audible in his voice.
“And the hurricane?”
“Ah, it’s going the other way, sir. It turned back out to sea. Wait, it’s tracking northward. Stand by.” A moment later he was back, only this time he was laughing. “I’ve maxed out the range on the northern drone to where I can just see the edge of the population hub at two hundred miles, Captain. The hurricane is building in strength and intensity on my screen. As best I can tell from the drone video and sensors, it’s headed for the population hub.”