Mars Disaster Chpt. 3

Chapter 3

Day 4: Jan. 7, 2236
The sandstorm has been going on for two days now. The Prophet wasn’t kidding when they said massive. Shields won’t hold much longer. At least we won’t run out of O2, thanks to the bio-engineered algae. Got message from Prophet. Says storm’s almost over.
***END LOG***

As I finished typing in my log, the howl of the wind that had pervaded for so long finally seemed to be dying down. Knowing it could start up again, I waited a few minutes before leaving my bunk. As I stepped out of the airlock, my eyes started scanning for any damage to the camp. That's when I saw that Allen’s bunk was completely destroyed. Next to the remains was a space suit. And it was moving! I immediately started running towards it. When I got there, I realized that it was Allen. I heard a weak groan through my earpiece. He sounded hurt so I switched on my X-ray visor. When I saw what was wrong, I was filled by a sense of dread. A rib was broken dangerously close to his lung. If we tried to move him, the rib could puncture it. The only way we could heal him was to have him transported aboard the ship. The only problem was that the ship was currently on the other side of the planet. The Prophet’s transporter wouldn’t work.

I contacted Dave and told him to come right away. When he got to us and saw Allen’s condition, all the color drained from his face.

“Is he alright?” asked Dave, panicked.

“What do you think?” I replied angrily.

“What will we do?”

“We can still contact the ship thanks to the sub-space comms system. Maybe they could hurry to get over us.”

“Do you really think we have enough time?”

“I don’t know. But I hope we do.”

We contacted the ship and told them the situation. The only thing to do afterwards was wait. We called another crewmember over so we could search the debris. As we searched, I noticed the shield generator had a huge hole straight through it.

“Dave, take a look at this,” I said.

“What happened to it?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but look how smooth the edges are. If it burst, it would be jagged, not to mention bent outwards.”

“You’re right. This almost looks like it’s been cut open.”

“But who would do that?” I asked.

“You’re the commander. You tell me.” Dave answered.

As we pondered this mystery, we got a message from the Prophet saying it was almost within transport range. While we prepared Allen to be transported, he murmured something I couldn’t quite hear so I leaned in closer.

“They took it. They took the tablet,” he said weakly.

Before I could ask who took it, he was transported to the Prophet.