Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [36]
Movement alerted him to Miss Somerset’s change of circumstance. He left his post at the door and walked over to her. He attempted to kneel beside her, but the weight of the oxygen tank made that impossible, so he leaned forward as much as he could, and reached out a gloved hand to gently shake her.
“Miss Somerset?” he said, then remembered she could not hear him. Without a conduit by which to carry sound, there was no way he could communicate directly with her.
Her eyes flickered open, dark as night, but they barely registered him. Instead they shifted around in their sockets, as if trying to find something to latch on to. For a brief moment her eyes seemed to focus on Miller; her brows knitted together, but her gaze soon drifted away again. Miller could only guess as to the effects long-term exposure to oxygen from a tank like the large one by her would have on a person. He had only been breathing oxygen from a tank for about forty minutes and he was already feeling a little light-headed. Oxygenated air was no substitute for the real thing.
Miller looked up from Miss Somerset at the slight vibration on the floor grating. He crossed to the inner door, in time to see Stevenson and Bedford dragging an atmosphere-suited man, with Challoner and Clements firing the way they came, up the gangway. Miller couldn’t tell who the wounded man was, but certainly it was clear that one of the rescue team had been left behind. He couldn’t conscience the idea that Bedford would wilfully leave a man behind, unless the circumstances were extreme. Miller’s heart dropped. Clearly the Russian okhrana on Luna was more of a threat than he had believed.
2.
NOW THEY were in the airlock, Stevenson released Platt’s body, allowing Bedford to gently lower the able seaman onto the floor. Miss Somerset, although not fully cognizant, was at least a little aware now. He walked over to her as Bedford issued orders to Clements and Challoner to take up point at the inner door.
“Is it possible to secure that door?” Stevenson asked, glancing over at Miller who was still struggling with releasing the outer airlock door. “Buy us some time.”
“Challoner?” Bedford said.
Ensign Challoner stepped back from his position and regarded the door, leaving Clements to continue firing. Stevenson hadn’t seen the enemy, since they had been out of sight around a corner when he had come across the unconscious form of Able Seaman Platt, but Bedford had already gone ahead and confronted the new enemy face-on.
“No, sir, this door will not be budged,” Challoner reported, returning to assist Clements in keeping the enemy at bay.
Stevenson turned back to Miss Somerset. They had to get her out of here, which meant carrying her. Bedford would have to enlist the help of either Challoner or Clements with Platt; Stevenson would carry Miss Somerset. Although that large oxygen canister would cause a problem.
First of all, he decided, he would need to make her easier to transport. He crouched down by the large canister, and compared the nozzle size to that of the smaller, mobile, cylinders. It was compatible.
“I do beg your pardon, Miss Somerset, but this might be a little uncomfortable.”
She was looking at him, but she did not appear to be totally aware of him, not that she would have been able to hear him, of course. It was a pity, since it would have been a lot better if she was to take a deep breath. With a grimace, he removed the tube from the large canister. Immediately Miss Somerset’s breath caught, her dark eyes widening. Stevenson worked fast to secure the tube to a small cylinder, hoping the one he had chosen still contained enough oxygen in it to last the young lady until they found the caverns. That is, Stevenson considered, glancing