“Lift at once and make for the hardpan outside the city. Set down again a mile or so to the south of it to get you out of direct line with any residual blast effects, and wait there until I tell you the fire’s out here or until the commotion stops. If the Man’s does go up, they’ll be needing help at that point. Rael and I’ll either make our way out to you or be tied up with the rescue effort ourselves.”
Most likely, they would either be in need of saving or beyond it, but his Captain was as aware of that as he was.
“Will do. We’ll pass the word to the others here as well.”
“Thanks, Tang.”
Miceal’s head bowed as he stepped from the booth. He loved the Solar Queen and had always imagined he would meet his death aboard her or striving in some manner for her.
The spacer squared his shoulders and looked up. Death on Canuche of Halio might be a distinct possibility, but it was by no means a certainty for either of them. There was no reason to blindly assume that he and Rael Cofort would not be returning to the starship and to the cold, dark reaches of interstellar space that was her domain.
He had to wait a few minutes for his companion, but she nodded gravely when she finally joined him. “I got to them both,” she told him. “Mr. Macgregory’s starting a full evacuation immediately. He’ll also contact the Fire Department to let them know what we’re facing and warn the hospitals to move as much of their gear as they can, especially their emergency facilities, out onto the hardpan so they’ll be ready to start taking on cases at once if need be. Colonel Cohn’s putting in calls for aid to the other towns all along the coast. — What about our own people?”
“They’ll do what they must.”
They found the battle against the ship fire raging in full fury when they went outside again, with fireboats and fliers pouring streams of foam and seawater into the Regina Maris’s hold, augmented by the closer attention of the small firetransports crowding the dock and the men and women carrying the fight to the deck itself.
As the efforts to contain the fire became ever more spectacular, so the crowd gathered to watch it increased in proportion. Laborers delayed upon leaving their shifts or before going to their tasks; office workers left their desks to congregate outside their buildings or stood by windows offering grandstand views; messengers and passersby with more time to spare shouldered their way through to the dock itself to secure as unobstructed as possible an observation post. Rael judged that there had to be in excess of four thousand people in and around the Cup’s seafront alone and easily that many again scattered farther away along the banks and on the opposite shore. A number of small merchant and pleasure craft had also drawn near, keeping just far enough away as not to interfere with the work of the fireboats.
“The smoke’s coming up white now,” her companion observed. “It looks like they’ve just about got it licked.”
“I sincerely hope so. I won’t object one bit if I come out looking like a total vacuum-brain in all of this.” Her mouth hardened. It was not over yet, not quite. “If anything does happen, most and probably all of these people are going to be killed.”
Before Jellico realized what she was doing, she had started pushing through the onlookers, showing consummate skill in weaseling her way with the deft aid of elbow and foot into minute spaces that had not seemed to exist a moment before. He was hard pressed to keep up with her.
The Medic did not stop until she had reached the firetransport that was her target. Its crew, engrossed as both were in managing the big fire gun, did not notice her until she had leapt aboard.
“This thing’s got a public address system?” she demanded before either could recover enough from his surprise to order her off.
“Of course …”
“Switch it on!”
He complied, moved by her earnestness and air of authority. Besides, the fire was well under control, and he was curious.
“You people,” the woman called into the mike he handed her, “the show’s almost over, but the danger isn’t. Until the last spark and hot spot has been extinguished, there’s the chance of a serious explosion. You’re exposed to the full force of it out here.”
Miceal mentally nodded his approval. Even now, with the fire on the Regina Marts almost out, knowledge of the full peril she represented too suddenly imparted to all these people could provoke a panic that would almost certainly claim a large number of the lives they were striving to preserve.
A siren sounded farther up the shore. Rael glanced in the direction of the noise, then raised the mike again. “I spoke with Adroo Macgregory of Caledonia, Inc., before coming here. See, he has already evacuated his plant and ordered his people out of the city.”
Someone near her laughed. “That kindergarten! Are they walking two by two with their fingers on their lips?”
She glared frigidly in the direction of the speaker, whom she could not actually identify. “This is a real evacuation, not a drill for which he planned well in advance. What in all the hells do you think it’s doing to his business operations? People like Mr. Macgregory don’t throw that Volume of credits away unless they believe there’s a damn good reason for doing so. — He called it right on target the last time he gave a similar order if I heard the story correctly.”
Her audience greeted that with silence. Many looked uncomfortably over their shoulders. The storm to which she referred was recent enough history to still be sharp in the memories of all of them.
Miceal’s eyes glittered coldly. Most of the watchers were inclined to move, but it would require some effort to push their way back, to reverse the general pressure of the crowd, and they were not sufficiently concerned to make the start.
Suddenly, he caught hold of the fire gun and whipped it around, depressing the nozzle as he did so. The powerful stream hit the pavement at the feet of the spectators with the force of a sledge, and those nearest it leapt back, cursing, as splintered pieces flew up in every direction.
“Get moving, now, or by all the Federation’s gods, I’ll give you a blast of this across the shins. If you’re going to stay here and die, you might as well have a good excuse for doing it. I’m prepared to accommodate you and supply it.”
The nearer fireman started to shove him aside, but the other, who had just closed their transceiver, intervened.
“Let him be. They’re right.” His voice dropped. “Except if the Mans blows, it won’t be a small, contained blast affecting only the ship and this dock. It’ll take out just about the whole Cup and maybe a great deal more besides.”
His voice rose again as he took the mike from Rael. “All right, folks, move along. Leave the Cup area entirely. We’ve just been informed that there is still some danger of a detonation. If one occurs, we’ll have to be able to get medical help in quickly for any of our people who’re hurt. — Get going, now. You’re blocking ground traffic and making it hard to bring in anything by air.”
The onlookers muttered but slowly began to disperse. By now, most of them were upset enough by the talk of explosions to be grateful for the excuse to leave the threatened area without having to appear panicked themselves.
“Quick thinking,” the fireman told the two spacers. He shuddered. “It’s almost over, but I wouldn’t have been very happy working here all this time had I known what was actually shadowing us.” He eyed the retreating civilians.
“You two had best join them,” he added sternly.
“That’s our intention,” the Captain assured him as he slipped over the side of the vehicle and lightly dropped to the ground. He gave his hand to steady Cofort while she followed suit.
With much of the pressure of the throng easing up around them, they experienced little difficulty in working their way back to their machine.
Rael opened the door but paused beside it. Her eyes were dark, troubled. “If something goes wrong, they’ll be needing Medics.”
“Only live ones. — Move!”
She wasted no more time but sprang into the flier even as Jellico himself did.
The vehicle rose until it was a couple of feet above the heads of the pedestrians and started toward one of the narrow side streets leading into the open dock area.
“Wouldn’t we make better time higher up?” the Medic asked.
“We’d also fall a heck of a lot farther if we got thrown down by a blast concussion.”