A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [180]
And another crisis always occurred.
As a young man, Kotto had tinkered with machines and electrical systems. His intuitive grasp of physics and engineering did not come from traditional learning; he had a mind open to possibilities, boundless innovation tempered by an appropriate level of pragmatism. Kotto took no unwarranted chances with his fellow Roamers, who placed their lives in his hands.
But sometimes even his best ideas didn’t work.
His suit radio crackled. Though the transmission was staticky from the punishing stellar turbulence, he heard the urgency in the voice. “Kotto, you need to get back inside! We’ve had a breach in Storage Chamber 3. One equipment crib is already full of lava, and the walls are cracking into the generator room.”
“The generator room! How could that happen? If the lava hits there, we’ll lose twenty percent of our life-support capabilities.”
“I don’t know, Kotto. There was a thermal plume underground. We didn’t chart it, but it moved fast. The heat spike was high enough to melt through the rock-fiber insulation and the ceramic wall plates.”
Kotto was already sprinting toward the sealed doors that led into the underground complex. Three engineers met him, their faces gray and sweaty, and not just from the excessive heat inside the warrens. “This one’s really bad, Kotto.”
He unsealed his gloves and set his helmet aside, stripping off pieces of the mirrored uniform, burning his fingers on the suit’s still-hot exterior. He sucked on his fingertips, then ignored the stinging pain. He followed the engineers while he continued to remove his suit, dropping components along the way.
On the third level down, engineers milled in front of the sealed door of the now-ruined storage chamber. Inside the control room, Kotto went to study the screens from the monitor cameras inside Storage Chamber 3. He saw slumping metal walls, smoldering packages and equipment. A burst of bright scarlet magma oozed through the breach like arterial blood, scorching everything it touched.
“Maybe it’s only a transient thermal plume,” said one engineer.
“I’m supposed to be the optimist around here,” Kotto said, “and even I don’t believe that. Let me see the generator room.”
One of the techs pressed controls, toggling through images. Some were already static because the cameras had melted in the rampant heat. Inside the generator chamber where one set of redundant power converters and life-support systems functioned, he saw the insulation smoldering, the thick metal wall plates softening and buckling, already cherry red.
It was the end of Isperos.
In the corridors, thick circulating pipes roared as coolants passed like oxygenated blood, struggling to carry away the deadly heat faster than it could build. Kotto knew the systems couldn’t keep up, not anymore. He realized in his heart that the settlement, his wild and exciting idea, was failing.
“Remove all the supplies you can. Seal off the lower levels, and block the walls. Maybe we can stall the lava long enough.”
He made calculations in his mind, trying to determine how much time would be required, whether the laws of celestial mechanics would make salvation possible at all.
“Pick our fastest ship. We’ll send a messenger to Rendezvous and call on the other clans for help.” He gulped, still reluctant to say it. “We’re going to have to evacuate Isperos.”
95
ZHETT KELLUM
In the aftermath of the bloody skirmish at Osquivel, slagged battleship wreckage continued to smolder for days. The hydrogues had withdrawn into the gas giant’s clouds, and the disorganized remnants of the Earth Defense Forces had crawled out of the system, anxious to get away at all costs.
Six hours later, the skittish Roamers ventured out of their rocky hiding places in the rings. “It’s time we returned to our lives, by damn,” Del Kellum said over the intact comm network. “Sure, I grieve for all the dead Eddie soldiers—but let