Read Online Rogue Command (The Kalahari Series) by A J Marshall - Free Book Online Page A

spy on us, it hasn’t started out too well, has it?”

    Matheson’s suit-conditioning system was operating at 100 per cent, but it wasn’t enough to keep his body temperature within normal limits. Sweat ran down his face. After only an hour on the surface his hydration level had fallen to 92 per cent and he had almost exhausted his fluid pouch. Aldrin Drake fared little better. But work was progressing. They had located a small surface deposit and had exposed the strange mineral by chipping off a thin layer of caked-on, ash-like sulphur material, and were busy setting a small hydraulically operated expansion cylinder that would allow them to break off several small pieces. A briefcase-like U-Semini containment system lay open next to their feet. The deposit, a crystal form that was opaque in some areas and oddly translucent in others, seemed to glow from within, producing a hazy white light.
    Had they time to notice they would have found their surroundings both alien and sublime. Their movement made shallow ‘treaded’ footprints in the frost-like covering of yellow and white flaky pyroclastic material and from time to time a flurry of fine ash drifted down on them from toxic clouds above. The material filled the marks on the ground like fresh, soft, falling snow. The incongruity wasn’t lost on either of them as sticky deposits built up on their backpacks and on top of their helmets as a persistent layer that needed to be brushed off periodically. Occasionally the visibility was good, and far to the west two towering conical volcanoes belched smoke and debris while the surface shimmered with heat.
    Every so often, Aldrin stopped work for a coughing fit – even their suits’ closed-system respiratory system seemed helpless against the invading ‘bad egg’ smell of sulphur dioxide. The concentrated gas appeared to permeate the fabric of their suits at a molecular level and filtered – albeit in minuscule amounts – into their helmets. It was evident that their time on the surface would be limited by more than just their oxygen supply.
    During one such fit, Matheson took a rest from breaking the rocks and straightened up. He arched his back and as he scanned the distant horizon something caught his eye.
    “Did you see that . . . over there, to the east?”
    Aldrin stifled a coughed and cleaned his visor with the back of his glove. “Shit it’s hot! No . . . what did you see?”
    “A white flash, just for a moment, from below the horizon,” Matheson raised his arm and pointed in the direction.
    “Nuh, didn’t see it. Probably a corona flash or a burst of ionised gas. Come on, I’m burning up in this suit. Let’s just get on with it. I’m almost out of fluid as well.”
    Aldrin turned away but Mike Matheson was anxious as he looked down at the small pieces of crystal they had prised from the deposit and kicked into a pile. He leaned over to reset the hydraulic cylinder for the last time but felt uneasy and cast a quick look towards the east. As he did, his eyes widened.
    “Look . . . ! Look for God’s sake . . . Aldrin!”
    Both men stared as a bright white ball loomed over the horizon.
    “What is it . . . it’s getting bigger!”
    There was an eerie silence. A volcanic plume, bursting high into the atmosphere and off to the right, caught their attention momentarily. Red and yellow flames danced on the volcano’s summit. Mike Matheson put a hand on Aldrin’s shoulder.
    “Shit . . . a meteorite. And it’s getting bigger. It’s coming this way! The buggy! Back to the buggy! Go!”
    Both astronauts ran, skipped and hopped the sixty metres of uneven terrain. Skips and hops that would have been impossible on Earth. Occasional pockets of coloured gas vented beneath their feet as the crisp frost of sulphur cracked. Unable to cope with the additional heat, their conditioning systems beeped unheeded warnings and sweat flowed freely down their faces. Within seconds they were aboard the