Thunderhawk (eBook)

Kenneth Ward (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2020 | 1. Auflage
354 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-0983-1713-3 (ISBN)

Infos

Two humanoid life forms marooned on planet Earth in the year 1828 engage in a mortal struggle for survival in post colonial America. The fast paced action thriller takes you across the young United States and comes to a breathtaking climax in the mysterious land of the Lakota Sioux.

Textauszug

Chapter 2

It had been a very ordinary and uneventful day up to the point when a sudden, unearthly shrieking sound ripped through the skies of New York City. Night had already drawn its black velvet curtain over the Hudson Valley, so no one on either the Manhattan side or the New Jersey side of the river saw the massive dark metal object fall from the sky – but if anyone had, they would have been stunned to observe that it was larger than any of the schooners or steamboats that were docked at the nearby waterfront.

Everyone for miles around heard the crash, however, as the huge craft hit the water and plunged beneath the surface of the river.

A group of merchant seamen, who had just arrived in port that afternoon and were heading into the city for some carousing and entertainment, were startled and visibly shaken by the sound.

“What the devil was that?” exclaimed one, a bo’s’n from Nantucket who seemed to be the leader of the drinking expedition.

“Sounds to me like another of them steamboat b’ilers exploded again – but bejeezus that one was loud,” said another.

“I heard a whistlin’ sound at first – then a boomin’ like ten cannons goin’ off all at once,” testified a third.

“Aye. That whistlin’ sound – that’s the way of it,” rejoined the bo’s’n. That’s the pressure buildin’ up. When that pressure, she gets to buildin’ up, and she’s got nowheres to go – that’s when she blows, and blows hard, she does. Folks are getting’ theirselves kilt in those damn explosions, they are.”

“Give me a sail ship any day. I’m damned if I’ll be shippin’ out in one of them blasted b’ilers,” said another of the group. “There’s too many of them damned stinkpots on the river these days.”

“Sure there’s too many,” agreed the bo’s’n. “Ever since they dug that damn ditch up there, the river and the harbors been lousy with them.”

The bo’s’n was referring of course to the opening of the Erie Canal in 1825. On October 26 of that year, New York governor DeWitt Clinton himself boarded a flat-bottomed canal boat in Buffalo and began a triumphant journey east to Albany, and then down the Hudson River to New York harbor. The canal truly was an amazing feat of engineering for the time at three hundred sixty-three miles long, forty feet wide, and four feet deep. It rose and descended a distance of six hundred sixty-feet through eighty-three enormous stone locks. Within a year shipping costs from Lake Erie to Manhattan plummeted from a hundred dollars a ton to under nine dollars. The completion of the canal, coupled with the increasing popularity of the steamboat after its commercial development by Robert Fulton a few years earlier, caused traffic on the Hudson to begin expanding at an astonishing rate.

Popular as they were, steamboats did have a tendency all too often to explode. It was the problem with pressure, as the bo’s’n had rightly pointed out.

The group of seamen moved off toward the center of town in order to get started on the evening’s festivities. Under other circumstances they might have hung around to find out exactly what had happened out on the river – but calamities were fairly commonplace and shore leave was fairly rare – and they had been at sea for quite some time.

Meanwhile, out on the dark river, the giant disc-shaped object which had plunged all the way down to the river bottom had now begun to float back up to the surface. There was no moon out that night, so the dark outline of the craft’s upper superstructure would not have been noticed even if there had been any river traffic at that late hour, which there hadn’t. Commercial shipping was primarily a daytime activity on New York’s interior waterways.

Now there was the sound of another, much smaller, blast, which was barely audible from the shore, and unnoticed by anyone. It was the sound of an escape hatch being blown from the top of the crippled vessel; a rectangular section of metal flew up to a height of sixty-feet before plunging into the black waters that lapped against the sides of the massive object.

The only illumination came from the various constellations that glittered down from the black canopy of the night sky. The stars of Ursa Major were shining overhead as a dark shape emerged from the rectangular exit portal.

It was the shape of a man.

The figure seemed to look around, surveying the surroundings. Then, without further ceremony, it dove into the slow-moving currents and began swimming toward the eastern shore.

Deep inside the rectangular opening there was a faint glow of interior lighting. The light had a greenish cast to it as it reflected off the water that was beginning to spill over the sides of the hatch and into the cavernous inner recesses of the ship. One side of the hatch was now partially submerged beneath the surface of the river, and the flow of water into the vessel began to increase. The ship was foundering, and it wouldn’t be long before it became completely swamped and sank to the bottom of the river.

The ship was circular in shape, and the hatch was situated at the exact center of the circle. The area directly below the hatch was the common entry point for a series of corridors which radiated outwardly like the spokes of a wheel, and along each corridor was an array of compartments and specialized areas.

Two compartments down from the open escape hatch was the ship’s medical lab, and on the floor of the lab lay two motionless bodies. There were also traces of blood on the floor – blood which was now being washed away by the onrushing stream of ice-cold water. Water was now sloshing around the compartment with the lurching movements of the doomed craft, and it splashed against the face of the body closest to the corridor.

There was movement. First just a flutter of the eyelids – but on the second splash of cold water, the eyes opened wide.

It was the man who would soon go by the name John Strand. His real name was Junn, and he was – or more precisely he had been – the engineering officer of the ship. The other man had been Anad, the ship’s medical officer, and Junn already knew that the man was dead. He had been kneeling over the body, examining the man’s fatal injury when he was struck from behind.

It had been Krutt who had struck him; it had been Krutt who had killed Anad. If there had been any question about it before, there certainly was no doubt now – Krutt had lost his mind.

There was no time to think about that now; the ship was rapidly filling up with water. He didn’t like leaving Anad’s body – they had been friends – but he knew that he had only minutes left and he had to move quickly.

He made his way to the hatch, and had to struggle with the heavy inflow of the river as he climbed up through the opening.

Junn stood atop the doomed spacecraft as the river swirled around his ankles. He looked up and down the river and at the banks to the east and west.

He knew in an instant exactly where he was. Veena. So Krutt had taken them to Veena after all.

The blue, watery planet his people called Veena, which in his language meant “water covered,” was the third in order of succession from its governing star in a solar system consisting of a total of nine planets. The planet had a period of revolution of 365.26 days and one natural satellite that was roughly one-sixth its mass.

The race of people to which Junn belonged had known about Veena for a very long time, and had taken an interest in it since it was one of the relatively few planets within traveling distance that was capable of supporting intelligent life. But Junn hadn’t known anyone who had taken as keen an interest as Krutt had; Krutt had made a life-long study of the planet and the beings who inhabited it. He claimed it was one of the major influences in his decision to enlist in the academy.

Junn could see that the eastern bank was easily the closer of the two; it was only half as far away as the western bank. Decision made. Not just because it would be a shorter swim, but also because he knew it would have been Krutt’s choice as well – the chase was on.

The water was cold, but Junn’s form-fitting uniform was well insulated. Great bodies of water were far fewer on his home planet, but most of his kind were good swimmers nevertheless. The shoreline ahead appeared to be illuminated by torches, but it was remarkable how many there were – they seemed to run the whole length of the river, as far as the eye could see.

As he swam he wondered if there were any large, predatory life forms in the river. Certainly Krutt had talked about such creatures often enough – but he decided that if such organisms were nearby there was nothing he could do about it, so it was best not to let it weigh on his thoughts.

Instead, he turned his mind to the subject of Krutt, and the circumstances that brought them both to the current state of affairs.

It had been a three-man crew on a fairly routine exploratory mission. Junn was the engineer, Anad the medical officer, and Krutt the commanding officer. To be honest, Krutt was a very good commander. He may not have been the most personable individual one might know, but he was firm, he was decisive, and he was fair.

The mission was proceeding as expected with no surprises and no occurrences that were out of the ordinary; it was downright boring. The boredom was almost palpable; it was a gray, soundless void which seemed to engulf the crew in a blanket woven of still, warm air. Junn was not even aware that his...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 9.7.2020
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction
• ISBN-10: 1-0983-1713-0 / 1098317130
• ISBN-13: 978-1-0983-1713-3 / 9781098317133