The Darwin Elevator

Chapter Five

Darwin, Australia

13.JAN.2283

A few dozen swagmen loitered near the old airport gate.

They waved with desperation at the sight of Skyler’s vehicle and shouted for attention, bare feet splashing in the muddy road. A handful of mercenaries kept them at bay, pushing the ragged bunch back with ease.

Skyler did his best to ignore the sorry lot. They would wait there, day and night, ready to petition any crew heading out of the city. Most often they wanted medicine, offering in exchange their food, or labor. A sister or daughter, in those rarest acts of desperation. Sometimes they would write their requests on scraps of paper and push them through the chain-link fence. A thousand such scraps littered the ground just beyond the barricade; a mulch of ignored hopes. A waste of paper.

He felt sorry for them. They had no other options. Scavengers represented the only way to acquire something from beyond the Aura. Yet he knew their requests were low paying, and often impossible to retrieve. Items rendered useless by time or the elements. Preservall could only do so much. Skyler used to try to explain this, or tried to direct them to Prumble, but he’d given up long ago. Let the short-range crews handle it, assuming any needed work that badly.

Beggars harried the group of petitioners in turn, hands out with palms turned upward, dressed in soiled rags and makeshift sandals.

Part of the crowd, away from the gate, stood in a circle facing inward. A body lay in the mud at their feet. Skyler squinted, catching glimpses between muddy legs. A child, a girl, he guessed, lay dead. Her eyes were still open.

He sucked in his breath when he saw the telltale rash of a subhuman on her neck.

A commotion erupted near the corpse. The crowd pushed an older man back and forth, shouting at him. He screamed back, naked terror on his face.

“Slow up,” Skyler said.

Angus eased off the accelerator as they reached the mercenaries guarding the entrance.

Skyler rolled his window down and waved to one of the men. “What happened?”

The man turned his head and spat. “Crazy sheila was full-blown subby. Ran out from the shanties and started clawing at one of the swags. They beat her till she dropped, Sky. Can’t blame ’em.”

Skyler nodded. Desperate beggars were known to push children out beyond the Aura, long enough to develop symptoms. They would let it develop until the rash became visible, enough to mark them, and thus make them useful as a sympathy tool. They would pull the poor kid back in, and the Aura would keep the disease in stasis, indefinitely. No worse, no better, for the rest of their pitiful life. Scrubs, they were called. “A scrub, huh? Looks like she was left out a bit too long.”

“Her pa there swears she’s never been outside,” the mercenary replied. “A lie like that is going to get him killed, too.”

Skyler could only shake his head. Such a ridiculous claim meant the father was either incredibly stupid …

Or he actually believes what he says, Skyler thought. Insane, more than likely. “Drive on, Angus.”

The rain had stopped, giving way to a clear sky and oppressive sun. Heat shimmered off the cracked asphalt at the far end of the airport. Lightning rippled through dark clouds far to the east.

Angus steered the vehicle through the gate and then along a dirt path that paralleled the old runway. The kilometer-long tarmac, once needed for aircraft to take off and land, now served as a foundation for an array of hastily constructed hangars, barracks, and warehouses.

Through the windshield, Skyler watched a fifty-year-old crate hauler descending. Thrusters wailed as the aircraft angled for a landing.

Angus saw it, too. “Whose is that?”

Skyler studied the markings on the side. “One of Kantro’s old birds.”

“What do you think they’re hauling?” the young man asked.

“Soil. That old girl doesn’t have much range, so Kantro does the Bathurst run most of the time.” The island, some twenty kilometers off Australia’s northern shore, was a safe bet for work beyond Aura’s Edge. Isolated and cleared of subhumans long ago. The land had been stripped clean as a result. “Miserable work,” Skyler added.

The truck jostled over the uneven ground, mud sloshing from beneath the tires. Skyler noted a patrol walking along the high fence that lined the airfield. Volunteers from the crews that made home on the old runway. The sight reminded him to check the duty roster, written on a chalkboard hanging in Woon’s tavern, and find out when he should next make the circuit.

Angus pulled the truck off the dirt road and onto the flat asphalt runway, a welcome end to the bumpy portion of the ride. He drove down a narrow alley, created by a gap between a pair of concrete buildings, before emerging into sunlight.

The center of the old runway buzzed with activity. Crews swarmed over their aircraft, unloading cargo or preparing for takeoff. Many more sat idle, waiting for repairs, spare parts, or simply a mission worth flying.

Angus weaved between a dump truck and an ancient sky crane. The enormous aircraft could pick up and move an entire shipping container, and lift an massive amount of weight. Too bad her range is so limited, Skyler thought.

They rolled to a stop in front of a weather-beaten old hangar. Angus laid on the horn, four times.

Huge doors creaked and rolled back. The Melville loomed in the center of the room. Her name was written on the side in small, simple white letters, just like the first time Skyler had seen her, when she was sitting forgotten on a landing pad in the Netherlands. An old, scarred aircraft painted in olive green. Four massive engines dangled from wings that sagged under the weight, a design that allowed for ample access to the craft’s belly. Originally built to carry a small attack force to the far corners of the planet, with gear and one vehicle, the cargo bay provided Skyler and his crew modest room for scavenged goods. What she lacked in space she more than made up for in range.

Ceramic tiles covered the underside, a feature that allowed atmosphere reentry. The squares were charred from frequent use. No one alive knew how to repair the heat shield, as far as he knew, and as soon as even one block showed a crack Skyler would have to retire the bird.

Angus parked to the left of the aircraft and powered off the truck’s engine. The electric motors whined to a halt.

“Don’t get comfortable,” said Skyler, “I need you to round up Jake and Takai.”

Angus frowned. “Where are they?”

Skyler jumped down from the passenger seat. “Jake’s probably drinking down at Woon’s. Takai, well, look for repair work on the strip, and he’s probably helping.”

“Got it.” Angus wiggled out of the driver’s seat and dropped to the concrete floor of the hangar.

“Oh, Angus. Ask Takai if he’ll jump with us. We need a translator.”

“You want me to ask him that?”

Skyler shrugged. “Soften him up at least. Make things easier for me. Take off is oh-three-hundred.”

“So much for sleep.”

“I can start flight prep. That’ll help a bit.”

“Sure thing, Captain.” Angus snatched his jacket from a hook on the hangar wall and started off down the runway toward the communal kitchen and improvised tavern at Woon’s hangar.

Skyler stifled a yawn as he watched him go. He pondered getting some sleep, weighed against all the preparation to do. Check the parachutes, load the weapons, prep the Melville … and, of course, brief the crew.

He decided the parachutes could be done during the flight, and shuffled across the hangar floor to a ladder. He climbed up to a catwalk that ran the entire circumference of the cavernous building. A rough mission plan began to form in his mind as he headed toward the far wall.

Samantha waited for him outside her room, at the midpoint of the catwalk. “Where’s Angus going?”

“Nice to see you, too, Sam. He went to get the others. We’ve got work.”

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the metal railing, blocking his path. “You and Prumble cook up another treasure hunt?”

“Believe it or not, that walking raincoat last night had a genuine lead.”

“And he gave this lead to Prumble? And Prumble gave it to you?”

“That’s right.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s pointless, anyway. The climbers are stuck.”

“They’ll get fixed.”

“You hope. What if they don’t, Skyler? People are saying the Elevator just gave up the ghost. Quit working.”

He understood then the source of her anxiety. The situation had everyone contemplating the worst. Thinking the one thought no one wanted to say aloud.

So Skyler said it. “If that’s true then it’s over. End of the world.” Her nostrils flared and Skyler raised a hand to calm her. “Which is why they’ll get fixed. It will get resolved because it must.”

Her eyes danced left and right as she pulled meaning from the words.

Skyler managed a thin smile and pulled from his pocket the wad of cash Prumble had fronted him. “This one has potential,” he said, “so relax, back off, and go see if Woon will let us spool the ultracaps from his primary line.”

She kept her eyes on his. For a second he thought she might not obey, but then she snapped the money away.

Skyler pushed past her and continued along the catwalk.

She followed. “What about food? The storeroom—”

“Empty. I know.”

“I don’t jump hungry.”

Skyler ran a hand through his hair. “Anything growing on the roof yet?”

“Nothing ripe. But I heard some of Kantro’s crew saying that Woon is making ramen.” Her lips curled in a suppressed smile.

He threw his hands up in sarcastic fashion. “Oh the delightful irony.” Skyler had traded an entire crate of the freeze-dried noodle packets to Woon for some reactor time, a few months back. Spooling wasted on an ill-advised, fruitless mission.

They reached the door to Skyler’s room. He sighed and removed a few more bills from his pocket. “Get enough for everyone.”

She took it, turned, and headed for the ladder.

“Briefing in three hours,” he said after her, then closed his door.

Finally alone, he sat on the edge of his bed and removed his muddy boots. He studied the holes in them, pushing an index finger through one. If this job didn’t pay off, he doubted he’d be able to keep the crew going. Tossing the shoes unceremoniously in the corner, he fell back on his bunk and shut his eyes.

Sleep came quickly. He dreamt of falling through a massive engine room, bigger than Darwin itself. He crashed through the floor and continued to fall. Far below, he saw a jungle canopy. Evil lurked there, dark and pulsating, waiting for him in the black space beneath the treetops. Soon branches were slapping at his face …



He emerged from the dream to find Takai standing over him, slapping him gently on the cheek. “All right, all right,” Skyler said. “Knock it off.”

“Noodles,” Takai said, his Japanese accent thick.

Skyler rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Down in a sec.”

Takai nodded, satisfied, and marched to the door.

“Wait,” Skyler said. His engineer stopped. “Angus tell you about the jump?”

Takai nodded. His face remained impassive.

“Will you come?”

He hesitated. Skyler knew well the man’s aversion to violence, and to the perils of parachuting. Even so, he needed him.

“I get full share?” Takai asked.

“Of course.”

The engineer’s face twisted in concentration. A full share might mean nothing at all, as recent history proved. Skyler tried to think of some ancillary reward, but before the thought fully formed, Takai nodded once and walked out.

As the dream faded from Skyler’s mind, he stood and stretched. A check of his watch showed that more than four hours had passed. He cursed and pulled his boots back on. At the door he paused to look at himself in the mirror hanging there. A worried man looked back. An attempt to pat down his disheveled brown hair failed. He grimaced at the gray coming in. Thirty-two going on fifty, he thought, and flipped the mirror around so he wouldn’t have to see himself next time.

Stepping out on the catwalk, he saw his team sitting around the rear cargo door of the aircraft. Each cradled a bowl of steaming food.

“Are we spooled?” he called out.

Samantha answered through a mouthful of food. “Three-quarters, all the time he could spare.”

“Is it enough?”

She shrugged. “Depends on where the hell we’re going.”

“Japan.” Skyler heard a few groans from the group.

Angus spoke up. “I’d feel better if we could get a lift.”

“No lift. Climbers aren’t running, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He regretted the tinge of anger that crept into his voice and took a deep breath.

“Well,” Angus said, “Japan is cutting it close.”

Skyler clanged along the metal catwalk until he was right above them. “We’ll stick to lighter goods, then.”

Angus wiped his mouth on his sleeve, set his bowl down, and retreated into the craft toward the cockpit.

Shimmying down the ladder, Skyler joined the rest of the group, taking a bowl of noodles offered by Takai.

The broth nearly burned his tongue, but tasted wonderful.

Samantha broke the silence. “If you say Tokyo …”

Skyler chewed a mouthful of noodles, savoring it. “It’s out in the mountains, some kind of telescope. Bring up the map, Takai.”

The engineer wheeled over a large screen and turned it on. Skyler prized the device, found in the conference room of a mineral prospecting company in Sydney. It contained detailed satellite photos of Earth, accurate to just a few meters, updated only months before the disease rolled across the planet. He could have updated them, the Orbitals had newer pictures, but the ability to see how things stood before the post-disease chaos provided useful insight into the salvage potential at a given location.

Skyler shoveled another wad of noodles into his mouth and crossed to the map. He magnified the region of Japan where they would land.

The telescope complex was nestled into a small valley near the top of a mountain. The circular white dome sat atop a large, rectangular building. A parking lot surrounded the place, along with a few outlying structures. Trees blanketed the land beyond, in all directions.

As the crew looked it over, he wolfed down the rest of his soup and set the bowl aside. Warm food in his stomach helped ease his nerves.

Angus returned from the cockpit, flashing the thumbs-up. “Adjusted the flight plan, Captain. If we keep the throttle low, we should be all right.”

“Excellent.”

Jake rubbed his shoulder as he studied the image on the screen. “Plenty of hills to make use of,” he said. “Are we expecting subs?”

Skyler regarded the man. “It’s well outside the city.”

Samantha cut in. “What about immunes?”

Before Skyler could respond, Jake answered. “The ground looks steep, bad for farming. I doubt any immunes are living out there after all this time.”

“Let’s follow the usual precautions,” Skyler said.

“Why not wait for a lift?” Samantha asked. “The climbers will surely be fixed soon. So why not? Can’t afford it?”

“Even if I could, we need to keep this one quiet.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Excitement filled her face like a child at Christmas. “A smuggling op, then! Kick-ass. What are we looking for?”

Skyler pulled the request list from his pocket. “Some kind of research data.”

She frowned. “Boring.”

“Maybe, but the price is right. It’s a memory cube or something.”

Takai reached for the list and Skyler gave it to him.

“Or something?” Samantha asked. “Can you recognize it?”

“Takai can handle it.”

She folded her arms again and fixed a withering glare on Skyler. “So he’s jumping with us?”

“Sure. He’s done it before.” Skyler thought he did a decent job of keeping the apprehension from his voice.

“Yeah, once. I’m not babysitting.”

“Not asking you to,” Skyler said. “I’ll partner with him.”

Jake and Samantha responded in unison. “You’re jumping, too?”

“Angus handled the Nightcliff landing well, he’s ready to pilot—”

“F*cking Christ, Skyler,” Samantha said. “Takai’s second jump. Your first in … what, a year? And Angus taking lead on the stick? I missed the ‘Amateur Night’ sign when I came in.”

Skyler felt his fists clenching, and slowly released them. “That’s enough, Sam. Let’s discuss it in my room.”

She got up and came to stand in front of him, her height ever intimidating. “Let’s discuss it right here.”

Skyler stood his ground and tried to channel the voice Skadz had always used. “The truth is we’re on the ropes. It’s time we faced it. Time I faced it.” He clasped his hands and looked at each of them in turn. “This is a hell of a talented team, no question about it. Even so, we haven’t hit a winner in some time.”

Samantha snickered.

“As I see it,” he continued, ignoring her, “we have three assets. The Melville, a damn fine ship that can range half the Earth. Then there is Prumble’s faith in us. He continues to give us work. I’m not quite sure why.”

He glanced around, meeting each of their eyes. “And, of course, our strongest asset: you people. This crew. You’re all immune, and you’re all the best at what you do. Not a single other crew on this strip can claim either trait. Even Blackfield can’t match that. So if there’s a flaw in this operation, it’s me.”

Part of him hoped they would shout encouragements now, but everyone remained quiet. That hurt.

He swallowed hard. “I know things haven’t run so well since Skadz left. I know I’m not the leader he was, but I am the senior member, so I’m asking for one more chance.” He settled his gaze on the young pilot. “Angus, you’re ready to take the stick. I’m trusting you to take good care of our girl.”

He nodded once.

The kid could do it, Skyler knew. “If I’m going to lead this mission, I can’t do it circling three klicks above you. That’s why I’m jumping with the rest of you.”

“Huzzah,” Samantha said, without enthusiasm.

“The primary goal is finding the data logs in this observatory. Yes, it’s a problem that the climbers aren’t running. A huge, nasty problem. But it’ll pass, and Prumble will fence the goods like he always does.”

He stopped there, gauging their reactions. He realized he needed to offer more. “If we find what we need fast enough, and juice permitting, we’ll hit the nearest town as well. I’ve got a list of desirables, plus the usual sundries. Questions?”

Jake asked, “What happens if this mission doesn’t hit, Sky?”

Skyler tried to look his sniper in the eyes, and found he couldn’t. He blurted an answer that surprised himself as much as anyone. “I’ll step aside.”

A bleak silence filled the hangar.

“Who will take your place?” Samantha eventually asked.

“That’ll be for you all to decide.”

Everyone started talking at once.

“Hey, hey,” Skyler said over them, “at least let me fail first.”

Angus raised his hand, waited for Skyler to acknowledge him. “And if no one else wants to lead?”

Skyler shrugged. “We disband, I guess.”

The sobering thought quieted them.

Let them mull that over, Skyler told himself. As bad as things were, the alternatives might hold less appeal. The misery of daily life in Darwin. Throwing in with one of the other crews, only to be slowed down by their reliance on environment suits and compressed air. Or to follow Skadz’s example, and simply walk out into the world and leave everything behind.

“I’m asking for a last chance. Let’s get the big girl ready to fly, and head into the Clear.”

It took the others a few seconds to realize the speech had ended. One by one they stood and started the routine of preparing for a mission.

Skyler sulked back to his room, wondering why he said what he said. A final chance? he thought, cursing at himself. He had let the moment take control, and said too much. Right now they were probably all thinking of ways to botch the mission and force him out.

From a locker bolted to the wall of his room he removed his winter fatigues. Russian issue, hardly used. A soft knock at the door distracted him. “Come in.”

Samantha pushed the door open. “Nice speech. I liked the bit at the end.”

“My offer to step down?”

She shook her head. “You laying down the f*cking law around here. Telling people what’s what.”

He set the thick winter jacket on his desk and turned to her. No words came.

“Pretty good speech,” she said. “Too much p-ssyfooting about, but not bad.”

“Let’s just hope the mission pays off.”

“It better. For your sake.”

Before he could reply, she closed the door.