Peace on the craft’s bridge was short lived. “What have you incompetent savages done,” Inspector Franklin yelled.
Why’d he have to wake up now, Mean wondered. And he seems in an even worse mood. Huh, interesting, he’s got more of an angry wasp vibe now.
The inspector was still secured to the anchor points at the back of the bridge.
The inspector’s torrent of word continued, “I knew you would fail from the start. The council was foolish to trust and fund such a sad excuse of a mission.”
His complaining quietened as he insulted those untying him. “Can’t you bumbling morons even untie me without looking like sniveling fools.”
The captain wandered back to the bridge. “Yep, we’ve just completed the first phase of this mission,” he said. “No need to thank us.”
The freed inspector then stood stiffly at the back of the bridge and muttered to himself.
The captain checked in at Ronnec’s station. He carefully looked over the displayed data. “These readings are weird and they say we are functioning well.”
“Yes, weird is a good way of putting it,” Ronnec agreed. “Engineers confirmed that we have no leaks and that the dominant claw has us well secured.”
Tapping his comms controls the captain requested, “Could those heading with Officer Dueliet to the extractor, please assemble at the port claw observation platform? Please make sure you have an envirosuit and any equipment you need. If there are any issues, please contact her directly.”
Mean had unhooked his knee from under the table and looked at one of the consoles giving readings of the atmosphere’s conditions around the ship.
He asked Ronnec, “Could you please put me through to Gurney for a sec?”
“Uh okay,” Ronnec replied surprised.
“What do you want you big clutz,” Gurney yelled through the comms. “If you haven’t guessed I’m a little busy trying to figure out what under a red moon has happened to the craft.”
“Hey Gurney, it’s me,” Mean said. “Should we still be hurrying?”
“Oh Mean,” Gurney said. “Yep, keep pushing, it’s waiting in the starboard assembly area.”
“Cheers, will do,” Mean called over his shoulder, already jogging to the door.
Captain Andy and Ronnec looked surprised by his sudden departure. But they didn’t have time to think about that as security had arrived to take the still unconscious Yarg away.
Once Mean was down the companionway ladder, he could run toward the starboard observation deck. The sea’s calm condition meant he didn’t have to worry about being thrown into the walls.
Mean was glad to see the portable ionesmetre was waiting just by the hatch to the starboard observation platform. It was a tool of lasers, plexiglass cylinders of gas, tubing and other strange bits that ran off a compact energy cell. The unit and a tripod were strapped into a carrying pack.
He hefted the pack onto his shoulders and clipped the securing webbing from the straps over his chest. Mean spun the hatch wheel and pushed it open to face the sea air. Some doors he had to duck to get his large frame through. With the tripod sticking out the top of the pack, he had to crouch to shuffle through.
All seemed calm as the craft hung to the extractor, bobbing slightly with the sea’s swells. But the whole area’s energy had an unsettling vibe, like the feeling that surrounded condensed plasma systems in overdrive.
Since he wasn’t going to wait for the briefing in the port side of the craft, he looked at the platform to check the craft’s collision hadn’t done catastrophic damage. The extractor’s base rig structure looked largely unaffected by the impact.
The legs of the rig were made of a strange ancient metal. The four legs vaguely resembled giant I-beams. The faces of the legs were at least two arm spans wide. The legs black textured metal they were made of was so dark and glossy, that it almost appeared to be a solidified liquid at some places.
The other unusual feature of the metal was that it seemed to be made of chunky textured layers. Where the layers appeared t be stitched into each other; copper, bronze, metallic green or oily swirl colouring could be seen.
Mean took a couple of steps onto the platform and then stumbled to a stop. The main claw of their craft now appeared to be made of the same metal as the extractors base structure. He took a couple more steps to the side of the viewing platform.
The side of the craft also seemed to be made of the same ancient metal. As he walked forward to climb down the ladder onto the starboard claw walkway all the structural metal surfaces he saw were now a shimmering black.
He refocused and climbed down the ladder onto the main claw’s walkway. The handrails that walled the walkway still looked like the same stainless-steel structure that they had always been. He gave them a solid shake. The handrails still seemed solidly attached to the main arm of the dominant claw.
Grabbing both handrails, Mean stomped and then jumped on the walkway. The walkway itself seemed solid too. Mean walked quickly along the walkway. He noticed the structural metal of their craft now had uniform little dimples lined up across their surfaces.
When Mean got to the point where the arm was braced onto the I-beam, He stopped. Next Mean flicked and clenched his hands repeatedly to get blood moving well through them. Once Mean had done this he stepped onto the handrail, then found his footing on the I-beam.
Mean started climbing the textured I-beam. The ancient metals chunky layers made reasonable handholds. The layers edges also made small ledges where up to the ball or side of a foot could be accommodated.
It was only because there was no wind that Mean was risking this climb with the pack. With no sleep in the last day, he was getting worn down. Even under normal circumstances, if it had been windy day the handholds might not have been good enough to successfully climb onto the platform.
Mean started climbing. Where he could, he would stick to the edge hanging off it like it was an arete. When that was not possible, he could zigzag up ledges on the face till he could resume a direct ascent.
Having climbed halfway up the huge I-beam Mean came to a solid ledge. Here he could get both of his feet on planted flat and use a solid mounting bracket as a hand hold to rest. Mean shook out his hands, one at a time. The climbing was not particularly difficult. It was only because Mean had pulled such a long shift, that the height seemed more difficult to ascend.
As he rested, he looked back to the craft. It was odd to see the craft no longer painted in a faded military green. The colour had originally been picked as suitable for not sticking out in the ocean or bush deployment. As a working vessel camouflage was irrelevant. Its main claw had originally been a gaudy orange colour and the secondary claw components were either blue or grey.
Having the craft looking more ominous can’t be good, Mean worried. It is going to be harder on security duty now. When it looked simple and comical I could defend the craft by just pointing at it when people claimed it was a potential threat.
He resumed climbing again and tried to keep a steady rhythm. As he reached the top of the I-beam he took a more awkward rest. Then he quickly pushed past the overhanging lip of the platform and awkwardly manoeuvred through one of the wider hexagon gaps in the aerial, being careful so that he wouldn’t be zapped into ashes if he made contact.
Mean awkwardly collapsed onto the platform. Then, once he had un-clipped the pack, he sprawled out onto the platform’s industrial looking fine square mesh surface to catch his breath. It didn’t take long for Mean’s breathing to return to normal. He gathered the pack and took it to where four of the platforms mesh panels met.
He set two legs of the tripod in the join perpendicular to the centre and the other leg in a join heading toward the centre of the platform. After he checked the level of the tripod, he attached the ionesmetre. He powered it up so it would be ready for calibrating and testing when engineers arrived.
Mean quickly turned around to head towards the next I-beam along. Making his way back through the extractors shell was easier. Climbing back under the ledge of the platform left him with shaky hands.
He swung back toward the I-beam. Despite the metal seams being a decent size, he couldn’t really wrap his hands around them to pull himself on sturdily. Mean was glad that there was still no wind as he delicately moved back onto the I-beam.
Down-climbing, Mean’s hands almost turned to jelly. He could still hold his fingers in the shape he wanted, but he couldn’t put more pressure through them. It made his slow progress unsettling.
Mean made it halfway back to sea level where the boarding platform was welded onto the I-beam. He had been hoping the port claw would have been raised and loading cables would have been attached by now.
He rested till his heart-rate steadied. There was still no sign of movement on the port viewing platform or of the smaller claw being raised to start transporting people and equipment onto the extractor.
“Screw it,” Mean muttered as he took his shoes off. He vaulted clumsily over the rail.
His arms did a couple of frantic little circles before he hit the water.
Mean hit the water hard and a brief moment of disorientation passed. Bubbles cleared as he swum towards the surface. The hot water was not refreshing. The flow and currents felt wrong as well.
I guess I should have expected things around the reactor, like anything else to do with condensed plasma technology, to feel wrong. Mean thought. How can people see the sea around the reactor moving in a predictable fashion and not know something is messed up?
Mean surfaced and steadily swum to the port claw. He quickly arrived back despite his wet clothes making movement more awkward and creating drag as he swum. He couldn’t find a way back onto this bit of the claw with his hand tired as they were.
Taking a breather, Mean ducked under the water again. He swum under the claw and surfaced on it’s other side. Where the arm and claw met at a right angle, there was gap was a handy size to squeeze up.
He shakily made his way up the gap by pushing against either side. From there he clumsily rolled over one of the hydraulic rams and back onto the walkway. Back on the walkway Mean shook out his hands and stretched his neck creating a couple of audible cracks.
“Mate, what are you doing there?” Caz’s voice came through a speaker.
Mean looked up to see Caz now had an envirosuit under his exoskeleton.
“You should still be at the briefing, not taking a little dip,” Caz said with the suit’s speaker. “If we were any quicker, we might have squished you with the claw.”
Mean jumped off the arm and onto the base of the stairs to the starboard viewing deck. While he walked up the stairs, the secondary claw’s joints and hydraulics groaned as they began moving. The arm was raised and claw extended by the time he was at the platform.
The vehicle airlock of the observation platform opened. Another crew member in an envirosuit and exoskeleton rode in on a lift trolley that just fitted though the opening. Mean recognised the thick monobrow behind the visor.
“Sup Mean,” the speaker passed on Stu’s greeting. “Gurney said you might have a crack at getting the ionesmetre in place. How’d it go?”
“Getting it in place went fine, it should be ready when you get there,” Mean replied. “The trip back down could have gone better. Are the lot inside done picking their noses yet?”
Stu laughed. “Nope they’re still in a micromanaged meeting. Can you grab those first two crates from inside while we attach the cables?”
Stu now had two cables attached to his exoskeleton. He ran and jumped off the smaller claw onto the I-beam on the craft’s starboard side.
“Will do,” Mean called. He headed through the hatch into the airlock of the assembly area.
Mean closed the hatch and looked at what was happening through the plexiglass wall of the airlock. Dueliet seemed to have finished the suit briefing to a dozen people. She put down her clipboard. Then rearranging her hair in a ponytail, she demonstrated smoothly getting into her suit.
Opening the inner airlock door, he could hear the chatter and feel what was going on in the room. Mean found a trolley and rolled the first metal crate into the airlock. He went to grab the second crate.
The Milly girl was among those being briefed and commented, “Huh you should have said Mr. Manson was enhanced or a mutant. It would have…”
As Mean shut the airlock’s inner door her yammering was cut off.
Hm, I guess I look a bit of a sight. Soaked from swimming in an area that they are putting on envirosuits to enter, Mean thought. I guess they need to stick to what they are told about the dangers of the extractor so they can get through the assignment.
Those that had suited up watched as Mean moved the two crates out the airlock’s external door. A few noticed the odd shape of his chest and ridges along it as he moved with sodden clothes constricting around him.
Back outside the waves were lapping against the metal and the craft bobbed in the water. The air under the now cloudless sky was too quiet.
A large drive system had been unloaded from the lift trolley and secured to the edge of the observation deck. Closest to him in the unit were two large cells. They powered a gearbox that drove a large wheel.
The large wheel hung over the edge of the observation deck and had been secure on the arm. Caz looked up from tensioning one of the cables into what the the crew called the ‘chairlift of doom’. “Thanks mate, chuck those at the opening in the railing.”
Mean rolled the trolley to the left side of the opening and slid the first crate off there. From there the two in envirosuits could be lowered into one of the half cages when it swung around the drive wheel Caz was working on.
Caz was focusing so Mean didn’t feel like this was time to start talking to him. Mean collected the second crate from the airlock and closed the hatch as he exited. He rolled the crate to put up against the railing besides the other crate.
Just as Mean was putting the crate in place Caz spoke, “Mate, Dueliet ordered you back to decontaminate and get checked up. You can’t head out again till you are suited up.”
Really, Mean thought.
Mean wandered back through the airlock and Martin scanned him.
Martin looked puzzled as he looked between his little console and a metal detector like device he hovered over Mean.
“Ah it looks like you are clean,” Martin started. “There are so few traces of variance that people would assume you had never been near a reactor from your readings.”
“It’s because he’s already a mutant,” Milly butted in.
Dueliet wandered over, “I’m glad to hear you are fine and that you have set things up for us to proceed efficiently. Procedure is there for a purpose though. Head to the decontamination shower and then suit up to join us heading into the extractor thank you.
Mean wandered over to the decontamination unit in the back corner. He checked that there was at least a towel and a folded pile of yellow fabric. There was and a large envirosuit had also been left for him.
Since everything was there Mean closed the door and chucked his wet clothes in the contaminants bin. Then he awkwardly opened the corner doors and squeezed into the shower. It was more like a spray box with nozzles on each surface.
Mean hit the large stainless button in the wall to the left of the nozzle strip and then raised his arms. Warm water hit him from all angles them the foam sprayed. Mean was again sprayed with warm water before a strong drier forced the cleaning liquid through the grated flooring.
With the chamber clean and dry a beep sounded and the door released. Mean walked out and unfolded the large yellow onesie. He wore it and the socks provided. Then he quickly put the envirosuit on and headed back into the assembly area.
Dueliets was just finishing her briefing, “… and remember the aerial is still charged so I want you to avoid it and the exclusion zone around the shaft unless your task requires it.” She finished the explanation with a bored look narrowing her amber eyes.
She must have given that speech hundreds of times, Mean thought.
With the explanation done Dueliet grabbed her clipboard, “Alright team let’s head to the observation platform to start boarding the extractor.”
Chapter list: https://wordpress.com/page/levelzerotraining.wordpress.com/195
Dezhanite Drafts 