Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [25]
He walked, well he thought of it as walking, but it was more like taking long strides with several feet between them, over to the ladder which still hung two feet above the dust. Stevenson waved at the figure still looking out of the doorway, indicating that he was okay. The next person emerged and began to descend.
As the party joined him, Stevenson took in his surroundings. The rocky and dusty ground was not, as he had always believed, grey, but rather a shallow shade of black. Nearby, about half a mile Stevenson guessed, was the lip of the crater they had seen previously from above. From his new vantage point it looked more like a kopje of dust, similar to the perimeter of a gravel quarry perhaps, and he suspected the crater was deceptively smaller when seen from the ship. Not that it mattered to him; he was not here to explore the crater, but rather to explore the wreck of the Annabelle.
There she rested, a shadow of her former herself. Even from this distance the damage looked extensive. Stevenson was no expert on aether flyer design, that was more Professor Stone’s field, but he would wager that the Annabelle was beyond salvaging. He glanced up at the Sovereign just in time to see the remainder of the ladder be pulled inside the ship and the door closed by the able seaman who manned the airlock.
His mind returned to the scene on the bridge earlier, when Captain Folkard had told Professor Stone that he was not to join the away team. Although he was careful to hide it, Stevenson had seen the pain in Stone’s eyes, the same eyes that had been so reassuring, so kind, since Stevenson had first been sent to escort him around the ship. He shook his head inside his helmet. For the sake of Nathanial Stone, Stevenson hoped that his friend was not in the wreck. If she were then he did not fancy her chances.
Stevenson turned back to the landing party, just as Bedford plugged the telephonic jack into his helmet. He reeled out the cables and handed the jacks out to the rescue team. Stevenson took his and plugged it in.
“Stevenson, are you with us?” Bedford came through loud and clear inside Stevenson’s helmet.
Stevenson affected the best salute he could manage in the atmosphere suit. “Yes, sir!”
“Good, then perhaps you would like to lead the way?”
“Sir!” Stevenson said and set off, removing the carbine rifle from his shoulder. He was pleased to see the slight smile on Bedford’s face, sweating away inside his own helmet. Following Stevenson’s example, the rest of the team presented arms. Stevenson had no problem with leading the team to the wreck, but he was not such a fool to ignore the rumours passed from space mariner to space mariner about the moon men.
4.
AS THE Sovereign edged closer to the basin, Nathanial returned to his “post” at the viewing glass at the front of the bridge. Behind him the crew worked, reporting to their captain, bringing the ship forward. No one even blinked at him as he returned; had his presence become so quickly expected? It seemed that Bedford and his team had disembarked the ship with little trouble, although Nathanial was certain he had seen the first member of the away party fall from the ladder. He had watched them disembark from a small porthole along a gangway just off the bridge. The view, even through a plate of glass no bigger than his face, was magnificent. He had to admit, although he had never had even the slightest bit of experience in an atmosphere suit, a big part of him was itching to be out there