Second Chances (77 page)

He came to just as the storm stopped. Fear shot through him when he saw animals moving in the distance in front of him. They were blurry, barely distinct shapes. He tried the radio but he wasn't sure if he got a reply or not. He kicked himself mentally for not calling in his location more often...and for pushing the little plane as far as he did. He tried opening the door to get some fresh air, but the humidity outside the cockpit was just as bad. Still, catching even a little of the breeze helped to fight the fatigue clogging pain his leg was sending. And it took some pressure off the abused limb.

Tisha was going to kill him, if Jacklynn or Angie didn't get their hands on him first. That was, if he survived his injuries he thought. No, he laid even money on Jackie over his big sister. Tisha would just make him wish he'd died in the wreck by the time she was through with him he thought, settling back as he tried to focus. He moved his hands clumsily, trying to get at the bolts holding the yoke to the stick. He'd helped put the planes together, so he knew where a lot of things were. If he could get the yoke out of the way he could get into the leg well easier or get his hands up under the dash to shift things about.

A cheep made him look up in alarm. He looked up to see the grass wave in the winds but no sign of anything. Then he turned to look over his shoulder and strangled a gasp. He'd already pissed himself in the crash, but warmth returned to his lap as he saw the familiar turkey-sized shapes of Velociraptors.

Contrary to Hollywood Velociraptors were actually small, about the size of a dog or turkey. They were mean, however, and these looked hungry. One came forward, sniffing and bobbing its head. He kept losing the thing in the grass.

He sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly, unsure of what to do. He had a rifle, but the cockpit was a jumbled mess. There was a flare gun, but he didn't want to be at ground zero if he set off a fire. Then again, after the recent storm, that wasn't so much of an issue now was it? He thought about it then rummaged around with his hands, trying to find the thing.

His movement made the raptors perk up in curiosity, their green and brown speckled heads above the grass, cocking this way and that. He had to fend off the raptors, fortunately just by closing the aircraft's door. He watched in fear as they poked and nipped at the aircraft. A couple jumped up on top, either investigating or using the aircraft as a convenient rock to survey the surrounding area.

One or two peered into the plastic and carbon fiber vehicle but none seemed interested in getting past the clouded and cracked plastic windows. One or two fought each other on the nose, then settled themselves into a nap while others set themselves up on watch.

He sat there, frozen in fear until they went off into the bush to more interesting prey after a while. When he was sure they were gone, he let out a long slow breath.

His relief was short lived. Near nightfall he tried again to get out of the aircraft, only to close the door when something large loomed over his shoulder. A large croc came and sat near the plane; its tail swishing about as it picked up on the heat radiating from the sun baked plastic. It peered at him through the damaged windshield, eye narrowing before it too moved off. Its tail nudged the plane making the teen whimper in fright.

He spent two frightened days there in the aircraft before a rescue crew from East located him and arrived. He was dehydrated and in critical, but they stabilized him with an IV and got him to safety. The aircraft was stripped for useable parts and then abandoned.

------*------

Jim Evall collaborated with Arby and Adrian to launch their first balloon into the stratosphere the day after the first day of summer was declared. The balloon was filled with hydrogen from the chemical works, much to Bob's disgust and annoyance. “It's a lot of waste for what? Some pretty pictures?” Bob grumbled.

The kids were on hand with some of the off-duty residents to watch the balloon take off early in the morning. The Mylar coated balloon rose majestically, drawing the line with a parachute attached, then more line leading to the 2kg payload below. The entire thing rose out of sight rather quickly. “She's flying and talking!” Pete said, calling in from the radio room. “We're getting her ping now,” he reported.

“Good,” Mitch replied. If it worked they were one step closer to his current goals. He wasn't sure if borrowing a page from Google's playbook with their Loom project would work, but it was a thought. They could at least try it in a couple test areas; if it didn't work out, then they would resort to older methods of information technology transmission.

The balloon expanded as it rose and exterior pressure dropped. It broadcast images and sound broadband for anyone with the proper receivers on the ground below to see and hear. April in Mountain Village was the first to report receiving the transmissions, followed shortly by Mary Anne in Copper Town and then Sarana in Iron Village. Omar Bradley excitedly called in with his positive reception. He also put Jim on notice; Jim Conklin a former astronaut trainee was planning on joining his team as soon as he could hitchhike a ride to Capital Base.

“The more the merrier,” Jim said grinning. “We could always use another Jim,” he said, slapping Arby on the shoulder. “Right?” Arby wisely smiled ruefully and nodded.

When it got to 32km the balloon burst sending the payload and parachute plummeting back to the ground. The parachute deployed automatically but got wrapped up for a bit. It was sent bouncing around by the winds as it fell before it came down hard near East. Jim Conklin took a team out to recover the payload. They reported back a day later that it was intact but a bit battered.

“I knew we should have added more foam for padding,” Adrian muttered.

“Too much weight. We put it in for padding and insulation but even foam has weight. I wonder if we can do something about the chute deployment,” Jim Evall mused. “And I'm also wondering about why the balloon didn't last longer. He had thought it would have gone up to 40km. Apparently, they still had some bugs to work out in the balloon's polyethylene matrix.

“I think we can model it in the computer. The chute I mean, we did it before. We've got the video data...but it was all pointed at the ground,” Arby replied with a sigh of frustration.

“We're going to need to do a couple drop tests. Just trusting the plans without testing them was foolhardy,” Adrian admitted.

“How do you plan to do a drop test?” Jim asked, looking at the young man.

Adrian shrugged. “I'm not. I think we can use a plane though right? Just drop it out a window or off the wing maybe?”

“Rig it to the undercarriage?” Arby asked. Jim frowned thoughtfully. “But that won't be the same as when it goes up, which defeats the purpose,” Arby said, thinking it through. “To do this right it needs to go up like how we plan.”

“We could drop it from a cliff or tower,” Jim said. “Make a model I suppose,” he said. “I guess I got a little too excited. We really should learn to walk before we run.”

“Walk? I thought this was baby steps?” Arby asked. “Crawl more like it.”

“Something like that,” Jim said. “He slapped his knees and then got up. “I'll talk to Jackie when she gets back in a couple days. Maybe she'll be up for it. If we string it behind her when she takes off there will be drag though.”

“It'll act like a drag chute you mean? Even with the payload?” Arby mused. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, what about the helicopter?” Arby asked.

“Now you're thinking kid. Good. Good idea. I'll run it past her,” Jim said with a smile of approval. Arby squirmed a bit but then nodded.

“So, while we're waiting on her...and waiting on prying the payload out of Conklin's grubby paws, I suppose we can look up other chute models. Maybe try a few of them. And then we can look into the next launch. Maybe do it from another location like Mountain Village?” Jim asked.

“Cool,” Arby said then started keying up chute designs.

------*------

Despite what happened to Giles, Mitch and the rest of his people continued to aggressively expand their scouting missions. He'd been tempted to have them cut back, review some safety protocols, maybe rest, but Jamal and the others had been adamant that they had wanted to continue. It seemed a spirited competition had cropped up between the various groups on who would contact the most settlements before the end of the year.

He frowned thoughtfully and then shrugged. He would put out one change. From now on if they had inclement weather on the horizon they were to avoid it or stay home. It was better to be safe than sorry. The burnt hand taught best, he thought, trying to cut the damn metaphors off. He nodded to the others as he entered the meeting room. He kissed Sandra then sat next to her.

“How's Giles?”

“Better. He's not going to lose the leg,” Sandra reported. She'd been anxious about the teen; she'd even started packing to fly out to East to help, but realized the two-day journey wouldn't help him. He had needed help at that time, not twodays later. Claudia had kept her abreast of how Doctor Ventura and Senjira were doing. Giles had required surgery to reset the shattered leg. Doctor Ventura was still uncertain if he would recover fully, but they were all hopeful. Once he was stable, they would transport him back to base.

“He's a good kid,” Mitch said.

“Yeah,” Sandra said softly. “Though he's not thrilled about flying again. I doubt Jackie will let him now that we're down a plane,” she said, making a face. “I asked her to fly out to pick him up, but she pointed out to me that getting him with his bad leg into a plane would be hard. And the kids' been through enough.”

“True. Riding back with Paul will be bumpy though. It's no picnic,” Mitch warned. Sandra made a face and then nodded.

“I heard Jamal and Axel have an idea?”

“It's not just them; it's also Corporal Klinger. Well, the real culprit should be Evan,” Anne said with a shrug.

“And just what did the good professor suggest this time?” Sandra asked, stirring her tea.

“Well, remember when he tried to get them to keep the abandoned village? You know the one south of us near the lake and river? The one the chief and crew left?”

“Yeah...”

“How are they doing anyway?” Brian asked.

Anne looked at him briefly. “They are fine. Don't change the subject,” she said tartly. He made a face. “If you want more see Jolie or Pete,” she said. He nodded.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” she said shooting Brian a mock glower. He shrugged. “I know you are setting up Ham radio networks in strategic locations across the planet. But you don't have enough materials to create a proper grid.”

“True,” Jolie said. “Which is why we're looking into the balloon idea. The problem is the winds will knock them about even if we tether them,” she said, shaking her head.

“And now I'm the one wandering off point,” Anne said with a sigh. “Okay. Evan suggested to the chief and Paul I think that we should set up a post at the old village.”

“A trading post?” Mitch asked.

Anne grinned. “Ah, I see you've twigged on the idea. Yeah. An unmanned one no one will want to play “dances with wolves” out somewhere in the boonies with dinos running around,” she said, shaking her head ruefully. The others nodded. “But what we can do is create caches. A storage place, fuel, water, food, and shelter. A camp site I suppose, though we can make more solid defended places as needed.”

“That...is an interesting proposal,” Mitch said slowly.

“The trading posts will let us drop off or pick up goods and let others come to them. A meeting place like what we did with Evan's group last year,” Anne said, smiling triumphantly. “And if we play our cards right, we can make it defensible,” she nodded to Phyllis who nodded back. “While also near water and a strip of land we can use for aircraft,” she said. “Throw in some solar power, maybe a wind turbine and voila!”

“We're going to be out there anyway servicing the radio equipment,” Brian mused thoughtfully, looking at Pete and Jolie. They both nodded. “So it makes sense. I suppose we can rig some sort of cabin or fortress up. A palisade,” he said.

“Nothing elaborate. Remember, everything has to be hauled in if it can't be made locally,” Mitch warned. Brian nodded. “And besides, with the weather and animals, it might not stand long. No more than a season if it's green wood,” Mitch amplified. Brian nodded again, this time with a bit of a grimace.

“Jamal and Axel are using the same campgrounds. I understand they want to go north again, to talk to the people they did on the radio. But since they don't have the range to hit it in one trip they are behind the trading post idea. But they aren't sure how to go about it. And well...”

“They need resources,” Mitch said, catching on.

“Fuel, fuel containers, water containers, filtration, power...” Anne picked up and waved a tablet. “They wanted to leave fuel behind at their first post but they need the containers.”

“The plastic inflatables might work,” Brian suggested, giving Mitch a look. Mitch shrugged. He took the tablet from Anne and synched it to his own, then transferred the files. He looked them over thoughtfully.

“Well, while you mull that one over. We've finished another inventory in the infirmary. We're good for most stuff, but I'd like a bigger cushion for basic supplies because you keep draining them for trade goods,” Sandra said, leading them off in another direction.