Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [34]
“Report, Mister Stevenson.”
Stevenson glanced up at Bedford. “She is alive, sir. I suspect she scrambled to the airlock moments before the ship impacted with the surface.”
“Upon what do you base such a supposition?”
“If she had been in the bridge upon impact, her body would be as broken as the flyer. As it stands, sir, her body seems to have suffered little damage. Of course, I am no doctor, and a more detailed examination may reveal more intense internal injuries.”
“Indeed. However, secure in the airlock she would have sustained the least damage possible, while at the same time having access to her best chance of survival. These oxygen canisters.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bedford frowned. “Still…It has been a week since her distress call.”
“I suggest this canister,” at this Stevenson indicated the large one, “clearly contains more oxygen than it would appear.”
“Yes, that would seem reasonable. Doctor Grant is quite the genius it would seem.” Bedford was pleased. “Excellent. Try to revive her. Miller, I want you to locate the rest of our team. We have what we came for, now it is time we found those caverns Doctor Grant spoke of, from where we shall wait out the return of the Sovereign.”
Stevenson patted Miss Somerset gently on the cheeks in an effort to revive her from her deep sleep. He glanced up, noting that Miller had yet to move. The young rating was looking down at Miss Somerset.
“You have a problem with your hearing, Mister Miller?” Stevenson asked, before he realised he was over stepping his authority. He looked to his lieutenant, but Bedford was regarding Miller with steel in his eyes.
“No,” Miller replied, “but…alone?”
Stevenson understood Miller’s hesitation. There was something a little unnerving about the crashed flyer. He hadn’t felt anything unusual since that occurrence in the greenhouse, but he was still convinced that somehow they were not alone. Nonetheless, Miller had been given an order.
“Yes, alone. If there were anyone else here, we would know by…”
Once again Stevenson’s words were cut short. This time, though, it was not the sight of a body that had interrupted him, but rather a reverberation so powerful it almost knocked the three men off their feet.
“What was that?” he asked, and he struggled up.
“Miller, remain here, protect Miss Somerset,” Bedford said. “Stevenson, you are with me.”
Stevenson removed the jack from Miller’s helmet and raced out of the airlock. He found Bedford advancing towards the rear of the flyer. “Sir?”
Bedford removed his derringer from its holster. “Felt like something was ripped from the hull, Mister Stevenson,” he said grimly.
“Another breach. Russians?”
“Let us hope so, I would not like to consider the alternative!”
5.
THE SOVEREIGN steadied its descent at twenty-two kilometres. There was still plenty of gorge below the ship, but it had become too narrow for the great flyer to go any further. There was talk of releasing a cutter, since the Sovereign carried two for emergency purposes. They had been especially designed for the Sovereign and were more advanced and larger than the standard two-person cutters, with enough space in the rear of each to carry twenty standing men, and fitted out with light armaments for defence. Using a cutter would mean further exploration of the gorge, but Folkard had decided that he wished to proceed on foot. This was a task made simple by the fact that they had spotted an entrance to a cavern along the port side of the ship a couple of kilometres before the gorge got too narrow. It was decided, however, that a small team, complemented with Royal Marines, would take a cutter deeper into the gorge to ascertain if there was a Russian presence at the lowest level.