Adrian’s gaze swept the instrument panels and screens. “Everything’s green and go.”
“All right let me get a little more clearance from the wall. We’ve got that big shelf coming up.” He pushed the wheel down and away, dropping them, swinging them wide, without waiting, without looking.
Without seeing Scarab Fourteen on the monitor.
“Pull back!” shouted Adrian.
The radio crackled to life “Scarab Five, get—”
WHANG!
The whole scarab shuddered and swung wildly to the right. Stunned, Kevin gripped the wheel and pulled back, trying for height.
“What happened?” cried Adrian. A sick creaking sounded through the roof. “We got a critical failure in the wing joints!” Adrian glanced down at the roof camera. The cage around the right wingtip was crumpled in. The scarab lurched and leaned right.
“It was an accident!” Kevin hauled the wheel left. That worked, sort of. The scarab stabilized for a moment but then slowly slewed right and down.
“Okay,” said Adrian under his breath. “We’re going back down.” He bit the radio key. “Scarab Fourteen, Scarab Fourteen, are you there? Come in, Charlotte…”
Nothing. No answer. Adrian punched the keys for the sweep cameras in the scarab’s belly to scan the ground. All he saw was the broken landscape, crisscrossed by the tracks of old lava flows and the glowing rivulets of fresh ones.
“They’re not answering,” he said sharply. Kevin didn’t seem to notice. Kevin pulled the wheel back and left. The scarab started a shallow dive, dipping a little to the left as it curved gently around.
He heard screams, shouted questions, more creaks and strains. Too much noise, too many possibilities. Oh, Holy God, too many ways to die.
“Deploy chutes,” ordered Kevin.
Adrian slapped the key and saw the red message glowing next to it. “We don’t have the chute! The hatch is nonresponsive.”
Too many ways to die. If one of those creaks was the hull. If they landed too hard on their belly and a rock bit through, if the joints and seals that were moaning all around them gave way….
Something overhead groaned. Then, something snapped.
The right half of the scarab dropped, dragging everything with it. The world rattled and clattered and clanked. Voices swore. Somebody screamed again. The straps bit into Adrian’s shoulders.
Oh, Holy God and Mother Creation, I don’t want to die!
With a hiss, the outside airbags deployed. The scarab banged against the side of the mountain, bounced back, rattling them all like dice in a tin can, and headed down.
“No response!” shouted Kevin, wrestling with the wheel.
Adrian grabbed the copilot wheel and threw all his weight behind it. It didn’t budge. “Nothing!” No steering, no way to get away from the rocks, the sharp rocks that could cut right through them, let in the poison and the pressure….
A bang, and Adrian’s body bounced hard against the straps. He bit his own lip to keep from screaming. The scarab’s rear quarter bit the volcano wall with a sickening crunch and settled slowly on a drunken angle, head down, right rear corner sticking up.
Adrian didn’t try to move. He just sat still, listened to his heart hammer, and watched the thousand red lights shine on the panels.
But it was quiet again, and he was alive.
“Everyone okay?” called Adrian, half to the intercom, half to the air.
Answers tumbled over themselves, but it sounded like the team in the couches had weathered it all right. Better than Scarab Five itself had, that was for sure.
Better than Kevin, who sat blinking at his controls.
“Kevin? Boss?”
“It was an accident. It was an accident,” he whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t. Oh, God.” He stared out the window.
Adrian followed his gaze. In the distance, maybe a couple of hundred meters, it was hard to tell, Scarab Fourteen snuggled against the side of a rough foothill, as if it were attempting to crawl inside the rock. Its treads were crushed. Its hull wasn’t the right shape anymore.
“It was an accident,” murmured Kevin.
“Shut up!” shouted Adrian. “Just…shut up! I don’t care what it was!” He didn’t. He was scared; he wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go.
Okay. Okay. You know what to do. Do it.
The radio still showed up green. He hit the key for Scarab Fourteen again. “Scarab Fourteen! Scarab Fourteen! Come in, Charlotte. Talk to me!”
Still nothing but silence.
“Send the mayday to Venera,” Adrian ordered his boss. “Tell them Scarab Fourteen isn’t answering. I’ll put together a comprehensive on the damage.” If we’ve still got hull integrity, we’ll be all right. Hull integrity, all the pumps, most of the air tanks….He cast a quick glance out the window, trying not to see the battered hulk of Scarab Fourteen. The black and gray land outside was a mass of sharp ridges and steep descents, as if someone had slashed through the ground with a razor. Scarab Five had come to rest against one of the sharp-backed ridges. Orange glow oozed in the distance, filling the crevices below them. Lava.