The Full Circle Six (8 page)

“That's absolutely brilliant,” said Kraus.

“Bruvold will help you build,” Bruvold stated loudly, turning to Sammy. The construction of their rudimentary flame-thrower took around twenty-two minutes, during which time Sammy and Bruvold had no trouble working together to make the contraption sturdy. In the end, they had six. The invention resembled a jetpack attached to a potato gun. The canisters were a gallon in volume, which was a problem because the fuel would burn out after only thirty seconds of usage. Sammy took no time in figuring out that they would probably go through a more than marginal amount of the reserve fuel by the time that they were finished digging out the ship.

Drake was going through the confiscated items he had taken from random crewmembers over the years. He recollected one M.S.C. that considered himself a practical joker. This clown had brought aboard the racecraft, a box of hand buzzers, which would jolt the unfortunate victim with a spark of electricity. Tossing aside an old magazine that was not appropriate, he saw the box with a grinning buffoon on the side promising laughs and good times to anyone foolish enough to purchase their product. He then snatched the box and turned to go see how it was going with Sammy and Bruvold.

Once the remainder of the crew was layered in the thermal clothing, covered with space suits, and gathered back into a group, Drake, Sammy, and Bruvold entered, each carrying two of the special fire breathing backpacks. It appeared that the two workmen were fast. It had been five hours since the number thirteen had crash-landed into this planet, and already they were prepared to try to get themselves out.

“Is captain for feeding and helping leetle man in cage? Or is he for freezing?” Bruvold looked astonished and turned to Drake as if he had just remembered poor Uciferi.

“Yes, go quickly. Get back here the second you're done.” Drake had not even thought about the captive with everything that was going on. He didn't have time to think about it now, either.

Waiting for Bruvold to return, Drake asked for volunteers to wear the packs outside and start melting the ice prison that had entrapped them like a duck's foot in a frozen pond.

Sammy and Kraus were first to heave the packs over their shoulders. The eager expressions they both wore were testament to the fact that both men loved adventure, and this little escapade fit their individual styles. Juhaen and Freddie made eye contact, shrugged, and started helping each other into their packs. Drake had just finished donning his own fire pack and was feeling a bit skeptical when Bruvold strolled in with his chest thrown out in the usual manner. Drake helped him into what he was thinking of as a back-bomb.

Priscilla and Jaws watched all of this with trepidation. Priscilla wanted to help, but didn't know what she could do. Certainly she couldn't support that monster of a death contraption. It was taking all the will she had not to interfere and try to disallow anyone to wear such an atrocious abomination. She knew, of course, they had no other alternative. The back-up life support systems would not last for long, and would not keep them warm enough to survive. The only option was to try the first silly plan that came to mind, even if it did involve the same risk of death as the situation that it was meant to surmount.

Jaws appeared to be petrified for his mortality. His wide, long obtrusive nose, always protruding six inches from the rest of his face, quivered in fear. He was changing again and he couldn't stop it. When someone of Jozwiak's race became terrified to the extent of doubting their own survival, he became indiscernible from anything in his immediate area. He may as well have been invisible to anyone who might have been looking. Nobody witnessed the communications expert as he slowly dissolved into his surroundings.

Drake led the way to the loading zone after making sure all the straps were tight and everyone was as secure as they could be with two gallons of booster fuel on their backs, preparing to ignite it and shoot the fire from a handheld piece of glass tubing. As he reached the hatch opening to the freezing world, Drake instructed everyone to lower the visors on the helmets. The suit was heated and with the visor closed, the cold may still make them uncomfortable, but would not put them in extreme danger of losing life, limb, or both.

Outside, they could hear nothing. Everything was pitch, black but the area of personal light streaming from each person. Advancing from the racecraft, Freddie slid on his second step, lifting his right leg high into the air. When he crunched into the ice, a small hole punctured one of the canisters on his back. Nobody saw it spilling onto the ground, because the light shimmered off of anything it was directed toward. All that was visible was ice, the rear end of the ship, and these six un-willful foreigners to this world looking hopeless.

“I'm ok,” Freddie sang out, getting to his feet. “My face was not harmed, don't worry yourselves. Sir Frederick's beauty is as entrancing as it always was.”

“Nobody was worried, now shut up and get busy.” Drake was in no mood for Freddie's narcissism. “We need to be concentrating on not blowing ourselves to bits and pieces to freeze here like bite sized snacks for future visitors! Including your precious face, pretty boy.”

Sammy and Kraus had brought along an extra drum of fuel to refill easily. The drum was specialized to control pressure and push the fuel through a hose in the top, which fit exactly to the hole in the gas pack that led the fuel out of the tank.

The crew separated and lined up next to the vessel, but Drake was the first to kindle the booster petroleum and it erupted, blasting the ice, generating a massive bowl shaped crater.

“Aim at the base of the ship, we need to dislodge it first.” Drake didn't have to yell out to be heard, even though they were all positioned around the perimeter of the racecraft.

While the other team members were thawing out the ice that was encrusting the front, Freddie tread carefully around the back to the other side. He had formulated a plan that he thought would help. Since he couldn't get his igniter to light the fuel, he thought he would surround the craft pouring the fuel in a way that it would melt a large contributing factor, once it was lit.

Drake strode along to the front of the race vehicle to blast the ice from the special weapon cannons. As the ice began to melt away, he observed tiny sparks going off sporadically like little explosions. He recognized this as an uncommon reaction for normal ice, and figured he would investigate after ungluing the special weapons cannons and the normal cannons located on top, back further. The cannons were the most useful component on the racecraft, according to Drake Judge. Bruvold took Drake's lead and began working on the left cannon, and Kraus joined in by heating up the right cannon. Juhaen and Sammy were blazing a trail following the base of the craft to the front.

Freddie had stopped his fuel flow and was now trying once again to light it by pressing the igniter that Drake had installed. He wanted to spark his project and see if the theory could work as efficiently as he had aspired. It was lucky for all of them that he did not succeed. As it turned out, thanks to Freddie and his horribly mistaken dreams of glory, it would have been a much more difficult task at hand.

Bruvold, Kraus and Drake had all met up on top of the craft, leaving the entire portion of the roof cleared and heated. Sammy and Juhaen stopped at the other side of the special weapons cannon when they saw Freddie's silhouette in the lights from their suits. He had his back turned to the pair, and seemed to be slapping himself on the shoulder. When Sammy caught up and turned him around, Freddie screamed and jumped.

“Why haven't you been doing anything?” Sammy asked distressingly.

“I can't get my torch to light,” Freddie snapped defensively. “I've been concocting a brilliant plot to easily free the racecraft and let us get on with this infernal race,” he finished, exclaiming with a nasty, triumphant smile.

“Just stand here and write your self-serving songs then, you trite buffoon.” Sammy let go of Freddie with a shove, landing Freddie on his back and making the hole in his pack a trifle larger. He then turned and motioned for Juhaen to come back with him to refuel.

Around the other side, Drake was ordering everyone back inside for a warm up. Coffee was mandatory. They had been at it for about two and a half hours and no one could feel his hands. Juhaen trotted back around the front of the racecraft to tell Freddie to come inside, as he was the best on the ice, while everyone else hurried in out of the cold.

Inside, Priscilla had asked and learned a lot from Uciferi about repairing the ship, through the chamber door, and, since she was now also the L.S.S.O., she had already fixed the main life support systems, which included the heat. Every member was grateful for the warm atmosphere and the hot coffee warming them from the inside.

“If we keep working at this pace, we'll be gone before I thought. Keep up the good work, men.” Drake was proud of how his crew had banded together and worked to get them out of this mess. He was also beginning to have more confidence in his decision-making skills, as it was his design that was saving their skins. Drake had finished his coffee in three gulps, relishing the burning sensation that traveled down his throat and exploded in his stomach like a ball of molten rock splashing into a lake.

He stopped in the loading zone to search for and bring along an instrument for digging. Drake was going to find out what was sparking in the flames. He found a hammer and, after looking down thoughtfully at the claw end, opened the hatch back onto the floating ball of ice. He stomped his way back to where he first saw the sparks and proceeded to pound the surface of the ice repeatedly. He had barely begun when he saw more light advancing from the right. Bruvold came around the corner carrying a bread-carving blade.

“I is for leaving cold and winning race,” Bruvold proclaimed. He then began slashing at the ice alongside Drake and removing chunks that he cut free. Drake deduced from the speed at which Bruvold moved, he had had more than one coffee.

Two minutes later, Drake found what he was looking for. It resembled a large egg made of ice, but was small enough to hold with one hand. He studied it a moment then stood and held it up. Bruvold ceased his slashing when Drake stood up and stared at the captain. He knew what Drake was holding and did not approve.

“Is no good,” he scolded Drake. “Is for smashing.” He took the capsule from his commander's hand and threw it. Three seconds later, they heard a tremendous disturbance from the direction in which Bruvold had thrown the ice egg. Moving closer to where he thought the noise occurred, Drake's light revealed the only good news that could have come from this forsaken tundra. It was the ice formation that was created when Ced Oblize had fired his special weapon. Drake could not believe his luck. He could have two special weapons, but more importantly, he had discovered the secret location of Ced's famous ice capsules!

Well, Ced would no longer need the artillery, Drake thought to himself. He would order Kraus and Bruvold to manufacture an ice-cannon to fire the capsules. He couldn't wait to try it out, hopefully on the older Oblize. This would gain him an element of surprise after the battle had begun, which is rare. Boxton's younger brother was the only racer to ever have weapons such as this. The unsuspecting Oblize would be infuriated and if he still didn't know of his brother's fate, he would at that moment.

Bruvold had crossed his arms and stood staring at Drake's outline. He did not understand why they had stopped working. There was plenty left to do, and whatever was over there was a waste of time that could be spent digging out the racecraft. He dropped to his knees once again and resumed cutting out chunks of ice around the base of the ship. He refused to be sidetracked. The Full Circle Six was for Bruvold, as it was for the rest of the crew, the biggest opportunity he had ever had, and he did not intend to lose any more time than was unavoidable.

Drake came back to Bruvold and used his hammer with such intensity and fury, that Bruvold stopped to watch. Drake was stockpiling up a store of these capsules. He seemed to find one with every other blow of the hammer. Bruvold promptly stood and commenced smashing the pile that Drake had built up into sparking bits.

“What is the meaning of this?” Drake jumped up to within an inch of the security officer's nose and shouted with rage. “How do you explain this treason?”

“I tell you is no good. Is for smashing. Is leetle balls of death.” Bruvold appeared nervous for the first time since Drake had met him.

“Fool! These little orbs will make us more powerful than even Boxton Olize!” Drake took a few deep breaths and continued in voice lower in volume but just as rich in anger. “All we need is for you and Kraus to build an ice-cannon to fire them with like Ced had,” he ended while looking at Bruvold threateningly.

“Is no fire in ice. Is melting, no good.” Bruvold peered back at Drake as if he were trying to explain this to a curious child. “Fire is melting ice. Always is melting … is no good to fire ice.”

“I don't mean set fire to the ice. I mean we need to fire the capsules from an ice cannon, just like artillery from a regular cannon,” Drake said.

“No, No … is no good for cannons. Is breaking and killing, and we are dying. Please, Bruvold is telling you,” Bruvold appealed.

“Come on, let's go inside and tell Kraus the good news,” Drake was completely ignoring Bruvold's ‘babbling' and putting a few capsules in his pocket to show the weapons operator.

“Ok,” Bruvold said, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “He just tell you like Bruvold. Is no good. Ice is no for cannon.”

The two members of the number thirteen race team once more entered into the warming comfort of the racecraft. Drake immediately started searching for Kraus while Bruvold went to check on Uciferi in the isolation chamber. Bruvold found Priscilla speaking to Ouldsid when he came in, and stormed over to investigate.