Helium Fall Read online

  Helium Fall

  By

  Darren Robison

  LEGALESE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not real. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and the product of the readers over active imagination. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Helium Fall

  Published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright @ 2018 by Darren Robison

  Cover Layout and Design: The Cover Collection at http://www.thecovercollection.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed, electronic, or digital form without written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to everyone

  who encouraged me to embrace my dream.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank my beta reader team: D. Black, J. Henley, J. Shields and C. Robison. This story would not be what it is without their input. Special thanks to D. Black and C. Robison for their editorial expertise.

  A special thank you to Alan and D. Black. Without their support and encouragement I would never have put pen to paper and would still be just dreaming of writing. You were and are truly a blessing to me.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Legalese

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  About the Author

  HELIUM FALL

  Chapter One

  Grant Goodwine could feel his skin beginning to crinkle and fry like a skillet full of bacon in the blazing sun on a hot summer morning. His head was banging like the worn out pistons in an old time car engine about out of oil. His head was drenched in sweat, he was covered in a reddish orange mud, and what appeared to be blood, was it his blood? If so, why was he bleeding, and from where? Why was he covered in mud? The pieces were not falling into place for Grant. It was then he realized he was no longer in his research shuttle, the Varizone. He was lying face up outside on the ground gazing at the shimmery silhouette of a large moon. How had he gotten here, how long had he been here, and where the hell was his shuttle? His mind was a swirl of questions and his head was banging so loud he couldn’t remember what had happened.

  He wondered what series of events had brought him to the situation he currently found himself. Had he gotten drunk at Landing's in New Liberty again or fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed his shuttle? The first idea was very possible. He had gotten drunk at Landing's many times over the years, but the later didn’t make sense. Some weak memories were beginning to come back to him. He was traveling in his ship the Ebony Belle for a month or more on its maiden exploration voyage looking for new life-sustaining planets in the Green zone, or the Goldilocks zone as it is often called. But he wasn’t currently in his ship the Ebony Belle or his shuttle, the Varizone. He remembered being in the Varizone approaching his first landing on his first unnamed planet. He would have to think about it later.

  The air was hot and he ached all over, what the hell had happened? He carefully rolled over onto his left side and made a feeble attempt at self-evaluation to see if he was whole or broken. He still had both arms, both legs, and all his digits. They were scratched and bleeding, but not badly, and he had cuts on his face and body. He determined he was bruised and battered, but alive.

  This minor success spurred him to move some more. He struggled onto his hands and knees, then to a staggering standing position. He worked out a few more kinks with a slow intentional stretch. Then he saw it. The Varizone was 50 yards away, smoking, scratched, and dented. Small fires burned close by. Dirt, grass, and small plants lay everywhere, apparently dislodged when the shuttle made its initial impact. There was a thirty yard long, three foot deep gouge in the soil with dirt and debris stacked up behind its final resting place. It rested off kilter. The landing gear was significantly damaged. Grant made his way towards the wreckage in a painful stagger, reminiscent of the aftermath of a drunken bar fight. Something nagged him and he could not put his finger on it.

  His head felt like it would explode at any minute. The distance between him and the Varizone closed slowly and painfully. Each step harder than the last, but he had to get there, assess the damage, and find shelter from the heat. The top of his head and the tips of his ears felt blistered from the intense sun. Water was another priority, and there was something else he knew he was forgetting, but what was it? His main goal was to get to the shuttle quick, well, as fast as he could anyway. He focused on each painful step and told himself, just a little further, a few more steps and you're there, keep moving. As he approached the shuttle he remembered what was nagging him. He knew it was important. How could he forget his friend and co-pilot? Grant saw Sam Northland standing in the outer hatchway of the shuttle shouting, but Grant couldn't clearly hear what he was saying. Grant hobbled along at a quicker, slightly more painful pace. As he closed the distance he could hear Sam shouting.

  "You’re alive, thank the gods in heaven. Grant, I thought I’d lost you when you took off running and screaming after the damn thing.”

  Grant hesitantly replied, “What happened to the shuttle? Why am I covered in mud and blood? Glad to see you alive, are you hurt? Wait, what did you mean when you said, "the damn thing"? What was I chasing?”

  Sam had known Grant for a long time and figured he must have taken a serious blow to the head. It was completely out of character for Grant to act so rashly. He replied, “Well, I believe it was a drone of sorts, never saw anything like it, and it fired a missile at you.”

  “It fired a missile at me? Why did it fire a missile at me? We have to figure out where it came from.”

  Sam recognized the look on Grant's face, he was serious, and it meant trouble — lots of trouble.

  Grant was the captain and pilot of the Ebony Belle, as well as the lead scientist and photographer of this two man team. They worked for the Planetary Survey and Acquisition Division, PSAD. The Ebony Belle was the newest discovery ship in the PSAD fleet and rather large for just two people. It contained the newest scientific equipment in every size and shape imaginable. The lab was nearly the length of a football field and about half as wide. It was located in one of the two detachable pods. The other pod contained the sleeping quarters, a full gym with basketball court, and a half sized football field on the upper level. Grant and Sam were in route to the planet surface after their artificial Intelligence, AI, determined the atmosphere below was suitable for human habitation, although a bit higher in oxygen concentration than Earth’s atmosphere. Due to the highe
r oxygen concentration, Grant was already beginning to feel somewhat better. His aches and pains were dissipating faster than normal and his memory was beginning to return. Once aboard the Varizone, both expressed their thankfulness to be alive. It was determined Sam was a bit bruised and battered, but physically sound and for the most part, uninjured.

  Grant tasked Sam with setting up motion sensors around the shuttle's perimeter and detailing the extent of the external damage, while he assessed the internal damage with the help of their AI.

  “EL 10 T, how are you faring?”

  “Captain Goodwine, for ease of interaction, please, call me Eliot. I am faring much better than the ship, thank you for asking. I was jostled by the explosion, but nothing is loose or broken.”

  "EL 10...Eliot it is then, you may call me captain."

  Explosion, Grant had no recollection of an explosion, other than the missile Sam said the drone fired at him. His mind raced. “What kind of explosion, internal or external?”

  In his usual calm voice Eliot replied, “External. A missile launched from a drone near the planet’s surface to be precise.

  Grant's face looked quizzical as he began recalling what recently transpired. He remembered hearing Eliot say they were at 2000 feet and closing, landing in 10, 9, 8…then there was an incredible bang. He remembered covering his ears and wincing in pain as the shuttle shook, veered wildly left, and plummeted the remaining distance to the planet’s surface, crashing with a mind numbing thud, sending dirt and debris in all directions. The shuttle skidded to a smoking halt ten yards from a tree line, pivoting 180 degrees before stopping. Grant and Sam were caught off guard. They were tossed about the cabin like ragdolls, knocking both of them against the walls and to the floor several times.

  In a delirious state, Grant exited the shuttle, running after whatever his addled brain perceived had attacked the shuttle. He remembered a bright flash, searing pain, and blackness. His next memory was waking up lying on the ground. The planet was supposedly uninhabited. Grant was amazed Eliot had not warned them about the danger below.

  Grant and Sam had left Earth about a month ago and were in Hyperspace until he guessed, a day ago. They were sent to explore the SanDED system, about 85,000 light years from earth. A pretty close neighbor by universal standards. Scientists had detected a radio signal. A signal this close meant there was intelligence close by—they were not alone.

  Many non-intelligent life forms were discovered over the years on planets in the Green Zone, but they never came in contact with anything more intelligence than the average house pet. The radio signal coming from the SanDED system prompted the PSAD to send out a discovery team, one consisting of Grant and Sam aboard the Ebony Belle.

  Having reached their destination, they settled into synchronous orbit and planned their sojourn to the planet surface. They took a good portion of the day finishing preparations and getting their shuttle ready to head out the following morning. The Varizone was a planetary research shuttle designed for the exploration and scientific analysis of newly discovered planets. Their job was to determine if a planet could sustain life, and if it could be commercially developed or exploited for its natural resources.

  Earth had long given up what resources it once provided and now relied on exploration teams to find and analyze suitable planets for resources and habitation. It was an interesting occupation often providing great amusement, depending on what a planet's flora and fauna were like and how it had evolved.

  "The boss is gonna be mad at you, Grant. You just wrecked one of his brand new toys, and on its first mission."

  "Sucks to be me, I suppose. Gonna suck even more for you, Sam, when I tell him you were driving and didn't see the missile coming at us and flew right into it."

  "You wouldn't dare." Sam said with a wry smile. They were just playing like they always did.

  They laughed and carried on with their examinations of the shuttle.

  "If we can get the Varizone repaired, gather the data we came here for, and return back to the Ebony Belle to report all is well, and then neither of us has to worry."

  "No problem, Grant. I'll just wave my magic wand and we'll be on our way."

  Grant noted his stinging tone of sarcasm. He also knew returning to the Ebony Belle would be far more difficult, and take much more time than they were allotted.

  The hot day drifted on with only an occasional break from the scorching sun as they continued their work.

  Sam caught small movements in his peripheral vision and swore he saw what appeared to be a human face. He thought the heat was playing tricks on him and the sweat in his eyes was making him see things. He felt like they were being watched since they landed. He had a creepy feeling hidden eyes were peering out at him from every dark corner, and from behind every tree, bush, and rock. As the day progressed and the shadows grew longer he was convinced they were being watched. The movement was slight, and whatever it was, was small and quick to hide, if Sam even slightly inclined his head in its direction.

  By late afternoon, Grant was sure he and Eliot had thoroughly gone through each and every sensor and determined they were functioning properly.

  He went outside to see how Sam was coming along. As Grant stepped out of the shuttle he saw for the first time just how beautiful the planet was and how the sky shimmered like the surface of a hot road. It had a strange bluish purple tint, and for it being what he perceived as afternoon, it wasn't as bright as he remembered. He figured it must be autumn or the trees were naturally vibrant with color all year long. The crimson and deep orange hues mixed with bright yellow and green reminded him of autumn on Earth, his favorite time of year. The morning sun was scorching hot. It now felt like it was beginning to cool down, it was now bearable, and may soon become almost enjoyable.

  After wandering around for a few minutes, he found Sam diligently making the repairs he could and documenting the ones he couldn't. "So how's it looking Sam?"

  "It isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, but it isn't all good either. The landing gear on the port side took the brunt of the impact and it's pretty much useless. Gonna take some serious bending and welding to get it even close to being functional again. The propulsion housing is dented pretty good, and then there's the underside of the shuttle. The right rear took the direct hit from the missile.” This thing was definitely built to withstand a direct hit, but the missile dented it pretty deep. We may have to sacrifice some things to get it back to true. I guess with a little hammering and shinning up she'll be good as new and flight worthy, in oh, let's say a week, maybe two. Give or take a few days depending on what I can find in the shuttle to make the repairs."

  Sam was a geologist, mechanic, and pretty much a jack of all trades. When they were younger, he and Grant tinkered with everything under the sun just to see how things worked. They were passionate to learn as much as they could and to explore new things. Passion and intrigue prompted them to attend college, where they both earned high marks in most subjects. Sam sought out degrees in geology and primitive studies. Grant went the more challenging route, earning degrees in physics and biology. Their passion for discovery brought them to flight school, the PSAD, and ultimately on this journey.

  The sun was setting and the shadows were getting longer. They decided to call it quits for the day and hunker down for the night.

  Grant thought he saw movement to his left and spun quickly to catch a glimpse of whatever it may be. He was unsuccessful, yet somewhat amusing to Sam, as he chuckled a bit louder than he intended.

  "Sam, did you see that? I swear I just saw something bi-pedal dart behind a tree over there."

  Sam told Grant he was seeing things all day being left out in the scorching heat, alone, and vulnerable he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him and he was becoming paranoid. He almost went inside at several points to let Grant know.

  Grant was unhappy Sam had not come in to let him know his concerns. "Sam, this is serious! Whoever shot us down could be sizing us up for
another attack. What were you thinking? Why didn't you let me know the very first time you thought you saw something?"

  In an equally serious tone Sam replied, "I thought the heat and the sweat in my eyes were playing tricks on me. I wasn't sure I saw anything anyway. It could have been a play with light, shadow, and my overactive imagination."

  "Sam, we have to take care in everything we do, we have to be aware of our surroundings. It is what will keep us alive — at least long enough to get eaten by something large and scaly with a mouth full of razor sharp teeth."

  They laughed out loud and decided it was truly time to head indoors. It appeared to them the sun was setting exceptionally fast. The whole environment began to rapidly change. The sound of small animals creeping through the brush, and the melodic hum and buzz of the local bugs they had heard during the day gave way to more sinister sounding bugs, and the grunts and growls of larger unseen animals.

  Sam, with some trepidation asked, "Do you suppose there are large, nocturnal, carnivorous predators on this planet?" With a quick glance at each other they took off running like two young boys afraid of the dark, trying to get inside first and leave the other standing on the porch to be eaten by the imaginary monster. The sun would set within minutes and the night’s orchestra began its symphony of animal and insect sounds. Reaching the hatch, Grant detached a light from inside the shuttle. He shined it across the landscape hoping to catch eye shine or something caught off guard and no longer hidden. The symphony went immediately silent. A cold chill ran down their backs. It was the most eerie lack of sound they had ever heard. Grant unconsciously turned out the light and they moved in unison back inside the shuttle.

  "What just happened? I've never experienced anything like it in my entire life. I was never afraid of the dark, but I may be now."