Read Online Deeper Into the Void by Mitchell A. Duncan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mitchell A. Duncan
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sound prompts him to relax a bit; the motor seems to be working just fine. With a few more presses of his thick gloves on the control panel, the rig begins to back away from the dome. The large wheels roll over several small rocks; the rocks are simply pressed into the soft sand underneath. Within a few short moments the rig disappears down the path as it ventures toward the first shuttle.
Time passes at a rate that is difficult for Mendez and Lawrence to calculate as they both sit quietly in the rig. Minutes, or maybe an hour pass as they look out over the scenic landscape that is still unfamiliar to them. The first shuttle comes into view as they descend down the last hill before reaching it. After the rig comes to a stop several meters away from the half-buried ship, they both unstrap themselves and get out of the rig. The wind has begun to pick up a little bit. Sand blowing upward into the thin air above them begins to render the sky a dusty red color. Small dust devils roam the landscape in the distance, and the sound of the grains of sand as they strike the glass visors is soothing to the ears, yet exhilarating to the cautious minds within.
Lawrence:
I am betting that the door won’t just open for us, so I am going to grab the cutting torch to get it open. I really don’t feel like climbing through a broken window or anything like that today.
Mendez:
Look at the vessel name painted on the hull there: Charon. I think that they could have picked a better name for that thing.
Lawrence:
Why does it matter?
Mendez:
I don’t really know that it does. Charon was the ferryman that ferried people to the underworld.
Lawrence:
No wonder the mission failed, with a name like that, how could they have made it? Someone back at badlands had a much darker sense of humor than I. Then again, to the lay man it is just another name, isn’t it?
Mendez:
Okay, make fun of me all you want. I still think they could have found a better name.
The hissing of gas as it rushes out of the nozzle of the cutting torch is almost loud enough to hear. As the sparks from the igniter fly past the gas it explodes into a furious flame. Lawrence adjusts the mixture and the size of the flame before he presses the burning fury to the door jamb. The door is more accessible than it normally might have been because of its proximity to the sand below.
Lawrence:
Okay, stand back. If there is still a portion of the hull that is still pressurized, then this door will fly off with a fury which hell hath not, if you know what I mean. If it hits you, it will seriously ruin your whole day. Who knows, it might just wreck your whole week.
Mendez:
Right. I’ll just stand back over there. It’s nice to know you care… Wait! What if someone is in there? If it’s pressurized and they have been surviving in there then…
Lawrence:
If all that stuff happened, then it will seriously ruin their day when this door comes flying off. Rapid depressurization isn’t fun, but it isn’t the worst way to go. I would rather die that way instead of being burned alive or something crazy like that.
After a couple of minutes of cutting the door falls off, exposing the interior of the shuttle. After shutting off the valves to the torch, Lawrence climbs up into the shuttle followed shortly after by Mendez. Lawrence heads aft and Mendez begins climb over the various crates laying all about as she makes her way to the forward compartment, where the cabin is located.
Control panels and compartment doors are broken off from their normal fixed places. They hang about the cabin and passageways; many are missing or shattered as well. Lawrence finds nothing of value in the rear compartments of the shuttle; access to the cargo area is relatively easy considering the doors that seal that section off are completely gone.
Lawrence:
Mendez, there isn’t anything to speak of back here. Have you found anything of interest?
Mendez:
Jim, you need to get up here… right
Time passes at a rate that is difficult for Mendez and Lawrence to calculate as they both sit quietly in the rig. Minutes, or maybe an hour pass as they look out over the scenic landscape that is still unfamiliar to them. The first shuttle comes into view as they descend down the last hill before reaching it. After the rig comes to a stop several meters away from the half-buried ship, they both unstrap themselves and get out of the rig. The wind has begun to pick up a little bit. Sand blowing upward into the thin air above them begins to render the sky a dusty red color. Small dust devils roam the landscape in the distance, and the sound of the grains of sand as they strike the glass visors is soothing to the ears, yet exhilarating to the cautious minds within.
Lawrence:
I am betting that the door won’t just open for us, so I am going to grab the cutting torch to get it open. I really don’t feel like climbing through a broken window or anything like that today.
Mendez:
Look at the vessel name painted on the hull there: Charon. I think that they could have picked a better name for that thing.
Lawrence:
Why does it matter?
Mendez:
I don’t really know that it does. Charon was the ferryman that ferried people to the underworld.
Lawrence:
No wonder the mission failed, with a name like that, how could they have made it? Someone back at badlands had a much darker sense of humor than I. Then again, to the lay man it is just another name, isn’t it?
Mendez:
Okay, make fun of me all you want. I still think they could have found a better name.
The hissing of gas as it rushes out of the nozzle of the cutting torch is almost loud enough to hear. As the sparks from the igniter fly past the gas it explodes into a furious flame. Lawrence adjusts the mixture and the size of the flame before he presses the burning fury to the door jamb. The door is more accessible than it normally might have been because of its proximity to the sand below.
Lawrence:
Okay, stand back. If there is still a portion of the hull that is still pressurized, then this door will fly off with a fury which hell hath not, if you know what I mean. If it hits you, it will seriously ruin your whole day. Who knows, it might just wreck your whole week.
Mendez:
Right. I’ll just stand back over there. It’s nice to know you care… Wait! What if someone is in there? If it’s pressurized and they have been surviving in there then…
Lawrence:
If all that stuff happened, then it will seriously ruin their day when this door comes flying off. Rapid depressurization isn’t fun, but it isn’t the worst way to go. I would rather die that way instead of being burned alive or something crazy like that.
After a couple of minutes of cutting the door falls off, exposing the interior of the shuttle. After shutting off the valves to the torch, Lawrence climbs up into the shuttle followed shortly after by Mendez. Lawrence heads aft and Mendez begins climb over the various crates laying all about as she makes her way to the forward compartment, where the cabin is located.
Control panels and compartment doors are broken off from their normal fixed places. They hang about the cabin and passageways; many are missing or shattered as well. Lawrence finds nothing of value in the rear compartments of the shuttle; access to the cargo area is relatively easy considering the doors that seal that section off are completely gone.
Lawrence:
Mendez, there isn’t anything to speak of back here. Have you found anything of interest?
Mendez:
Jim, you need to get up here… right
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