Read TimeShift Page 29


  chapter 28

  TEAM 1, YEAR: 1200

  Time Remaining: 146 Days

  Jake’s chat with Clint seemed to do the trick. A week had passed since their little conversation in the tool shed, and since that time, Clint had neither said or done anything offensive to any of the other team members. He had, in fact, begun participating more with the team, initiating game nights and helping with chores unrelated to his job duties. Jake was pleased with Clint’s reversal.

  It seemed as though even the Moles had sensed the harmonious vibes in the camp, as they made it through the week with no major issues. Problem-free Moles meant for long days for the operators, where all they could do was sit back and monitor status reports. To counteract the boredom, Jake and Lexi had taken to reading the horribly outdated magazines that had collected in the trailer over the years. Jake had found a fascinating article about Rocket Bronco Riding—a sport briefly popular in the forties. A parachute-wearing rider saddled a small rocket as it flew through the air in a random, erratic fashion. Like classic bronco riding, points were awarded for style and feats accomplished while on the rocket. When the rider had enough, he or she would eject and float down to the ground harmlessly with a parachute, or that was the plan. The sport’s popularity, although fanatic in the Midwest, never caught on nationwide. The rockets proved too unpredictable, and a number of steely-nerved, wannabe sky cowboys determined to prove their grit were hammered into the ground by improperly calibrated rockets.

  Although life in the camp was rosy, the weather had been anything but. Thick layers of cloud blocked out so much sun that the camp possessed an early evening feel in mid-afternoon. Jake watched the trees bend unnaturally from what he guessed must be near-hurricane winds. Even from inside Mole Control, he could see streams of water pouring down the side of the invisible WeatherShield.

  Jake’s attention turned to the monitors as a beeping sound announced a critical problem with the active Mole. Lexi scrolled through several reports to see what triggered the alert when they heard Clint’s voice over the intercom.

  “We’ve got a problem, kids,” said Clint, who preferred to spend his days inside the Mole’s small control room.

  “What’s going on down there?” asked Jake.

  “Well, a couple of things. The drill head got hung up, but the shaft kept spinning. Something’s stripped and I think we blew a hydraulic line.” In the tunnel, Clint stepped off the back of the Mole, got down on his hands and knees and looked underneath the massive machine. He saw liquid dripping onto the roughly cut stone floor. “Yeah, something’s definitely leaking. It’s around where the auxiliary oil supply line is.”

  “Well, we had a good run.” Jake rubbed his hands together as he stood, happy to have something to do. “Pull’er out and we’ll throw Mole2 back in tomorrow. Good work guys.”

  Jake decided to call it a day early. Wanting to take advantage of their good luck while it lasted, Jake had been pushing the group for longer days. With that spell now broken, the team could take a much-needed break. Regardless of the future or the past, people still needed to unwind, and the project was ahead of schedule.

  After dinner, the group parted ways to get out of their work clothes before collecting in the rec room to participate in a virtual bowling tournament Clint had organized. Jake, who had showered and changed earlier, began to rearrange the furniture in the rec room. No sooner had Jake begun to move the first couch, a deafening, tent-shaking crash behind him sent his heart into overdrive. A blast of cold air and fresh pine scent slammed into his back and he spun on the spot. The thick canvas roof had been pulled down in the medical room. Through large tears in the roof, Jake saw a massive, fallen evergreen tree. Leaves and rain blew in through the openings.

  Ben, Darren and Lexi had appeared first, Lexi pulling her wet hair into a ponytail. She saw Jake rooted to the spot in shock, holding a throw pillow. “Jake, are you alright?”

  Jake looked down at the throw pillow and, feeling silly, threw it onto the nearest couch. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  Jake stepped through one of the jagged rips in the canvas ceiling and walked across what used to be the roof and walls of the medical room, surveying the damage from the outside.

  “I’ll check on the WeatherShield sensors,” shouted Ben over the wind. “The system would only go down if one of them’s been damaged. I suspect one’s been crush by Ol’ Woody here.” He gestured to the fallen tree.

  Jake nodded. He pulled his VersaTool from his back pocket, picked up the tree with the red beam and, with the effort of brushing away a mosquito, he flicked it far over the bushes behind the camp. The jet of water spraying from the sink’s broken tap seemed inconsequential with rain pouring through the torn ceiling. As Lexi closed the sink’s supply valve, the water issuing from the taps ceased.

  The tent and the contents of the medical room sustained significant damage. The tree’s large branches had shredded the canvas roof and crumpled the plastic-aluminum walls like paper. Small branches, leaves and millions of pine needles lay littered on the floor among the damaged supplies and puddles of the rain that continued to pour in. Clint and Tyler searched the tool shed to find extra wall panels and canvas patches for the roof. Lexi, Maya and Darren salvaged medical supplies and set them out on tables in the dining room to dry.

  Clint and Tyler replaced the damaged interlocking panels easily, but the roof sagged uncooperatively as the two men hurried to patch it. Eventually, the wind and rain stopped, indicating that Ben had been successful in getting the WeatherShield operational again, and the group cheered.

  The MediScan RX-4000 received the hardest hit. The arm of the massive medical appliance was bent forward with another ninety-degree turn to the right at the arm’s midway point. The cover that hid the recessed surgical tools was missing and many of the shiny tools were scattered on the floor. Some hung down over the edge of the broken table like torture devices in a horror film. The glass surrounding the fixture was mostly smashed and several pieces hung from the strip lighting. Much of the oversized examination table was missing and what remained of the glass surface had remained intact, but now had the unmistakable fractured pattern of broken safety glass. The steel base was crumpled at one corner like a shoe box that had been stepped on. Other items around the room shared a similar fate; the sink lay on the floor broken into several pieces.

  Maya briefed Jake on the loss of medical supplies and the report surprised him; he had expected a complete loss of the room. Many items had survived and for this Jake was grateful, as the MediScan RX-4000 looked like a write-off.

  Ben walked into the main tent carrying one of the WeatherShield sensors. “So the sensor at the northeast corner of the camp stopped working. I’m not sure why, but I replaced it with a spare from the tool shed and the system is back up and operational,” said Ben.

  Jake returned to the medical room and found Lexi trying to piece together the MediScan device. Tyler stood atop a floating scaffolding platform hovering level with Jake’s chest. Through one of the tears in the ceiling, Jake saw Clint lying across a similar scaffolding platform above the roof. He held the torn canvas pieces in place as Tyler glued the replacement strips over the tears in the shredded ceiling.

  Clint stuck his head through one of the unrepaired tears in the ceiling. “So much for our bowling tournament.”

  Jake chuckled weakly. “I think this will suffice for tonight’s team-building exercise.”

  Ben and Jake worked intermittently on the MediScan RX-4000 as time allowed during the week. Neither man had ever worked on anything so specialized, but Jake wanted it up and running if it was in their power to do so. They had one handheld MediScan device, but it only worked for simple injuries.

  Before dinner on Friday, as the group gathered in Darren’s kitchen like starving hyenas, Jake appeared from the medical room, wiping his hands on a rag. He waved at Ben—standing in line, plate in hand—motioning for him to come over.

  “I think I’ve done all that we can do
for this thing. I was just about to turn it on. Thought you might like to watch.” Jake tossed the rag on the one remaining stool, now with a pronounced lean.

  “How did you get the beam stabilizer fixed?” asked Ben.

  “Generous amounts of Super Weld adhesive and some fibreglass strips I found in the tool shed.”

  Ben’s widening eyes said what he dared not verbally.

  Jake chuckled. “I know, I know, it’s questionable. I thought the same thing, but we gotta try, right?”

  Many of the cracks in the glass of the examination table resembled a Mexican road map and oozed Super Weld adhesive. Like pieces missing from an otherwise completed puzzle, oddly-shaped holes peppered the table, where pieces of glass were either missing or beyond repair.

  “Here goes nothing.” Jake turned on the device. It hummed to life, though louder than normal. The base vibrated. The projected control screen flickered as the massive medical instrument fired through its boot sequence. Jake looked back at Ben, who stood back at the door not wanting to venture any closer. After a few moments, the menu appeared, indicating it was ready for use.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” breathed Ben.

  Jake chuckled. “Hold on there, Cowboy, we should run a test scan.”

  “Good point.”

  Jake tapped the screen several times to initiate a scan of the empty bed. The device became louder and a clacking, ratcheting sound issued from the steel base as the scanning arm inside ran the length of the machine. Ben opened his mouth to congratulate Jake on the fix when a huge spark lit up the exam area. The cover of the housing above the exam table which hid the surgical tools fell flat on the bed and all of the sharp, shiny tools slammed downwards and stopped dead, exactly where the abdomen of a patient would be. The machine’s humming noise wound down and stopped. A piece of glass surrounding the tool housing broke away, pulling with it part of the strip lighting and the glass swung back and forth from the thin strip.

  Ben stared wide-eyed at the machine. “I guess it’s lights out for that, eh?”