Chapter 248: Extraction Platform - II

Two Falcons lifted from Golden Eagle’s Airfield farther inland from Saicine Harbor.

Their rotors drew attention almost immediately. Workers stopped along the reclaimed roads, while several survivors near the harbor pointed as both helicopters climbed and turned toward the sea.

"Shit. I almost forgot we still had people out on those platforms. Did the army finally find one?"

"How many do you think are still alive?"

"I don’t know. Hopefully a lot."

The helicopters disappeared toward the sea, and everyone returned to what they were doing.

Saicine was starting to face the same problems as Grefort.

Damaged homes were being inspected, repaired or reclaimed. Businesses and workshops were reopening where they could, and the surviving enclaves had already begun arguing over who was supposed to represent the city once things settled down.

For now, they kept those arguments away from the military, and the soldiers seemed perfectly happy with that arrangement.

...

Around ASR-003, Triton One and the two Sentinels held positions across the seaward approaches while the Wraiths remained somewhere in deeper water.

The warships didn’t need to crowd the platform. Their sensors covered the surrounding water well enough from farther out, and any marine contact that returned would have to get past the ships first.

Several platform workers stood along the upper railings watching them. One of the men squinted toward the nearest Sentinel.

"These don’t look like anything from our navy."

"So what? They’re helping us."

"What if they’re Valerian?"

A few heads turned toward him.

"From where? They came out of Saicine."

"What if they took Saicine?"

"Will you shut up?"

A middle-aged worker finally turned on him.

"We’ve spent months stuck up here with those things swimming underneath us, and somebody finally came out here to help. I don’t care whose flag they’re flying right now. We have people who need a doctor."

That ended most of the argument. Not everyone looked convinced, but nobody had a better alternative.

They continued watching the ships hold position around the platform, until the sound of rotors reached them.

The sound was faint beneath the machinery running across ASR-003. It grew steadily until two helicopters appeared over the southern horizon.

One of the workers leaned farther over the railing.

"What are those? Are they ours?"

"I have no idea, but that doesn’t scream Valerian at all."

The Falcons closed in. They were moving much faster than the civilian transports the platform crews were used to seeing.

Someone farther down the deck shouted.

"Holy shit! They really sent helicopters!"

That shout broke everyone out of their staring.

"Clear the aviation deck!"

Several workers started running.

"Move it! Get everything off there. They’re coming in!"

Crates, loose tarps and maintenance equipment were removed from the aviation deck as quickly as the workers could move them.

The first Falcon closed in enough for them to see it clearly.

"That’s a helicopter?"

Another worker shoved a crate aside with his boot.

"Move first. Save your impressions for a later time."

The Falcon crossed over the edge of the platform.

Its size was hard to ignore once it was directly above them. The fuselage was broader than the civilian transports ASR-003 normally received, and several workers backed farther from the landing area as it settled over the deck.

The second aircraft peeled away toward another aviation deck on the opposite side of the platform.

"Bird One-One, final approach."

"Bird One-Two taking secondary deck."

Rotor wash struck the platform seconds later.

Dust, salt residue and anything else the workers failed to secure scattered across the deck. Several people ducked behind the marked safety line while the first Falcon settled lower.

The landing gear touched down.

"Bird One-One, touchdown. Evac is on deck."

The rotors kept turning while its side door opened.

Two Medics came out first carrying trauma bags, followed by several soldiers and an Engineer. Another pair brought a folded stretcher between them.

One of the Medics raised his voice over the engines.

"Where are your critical patients?"

"Ah? Inside! This way!"

A platform worker pushed through the others and waved them toward the operations block.

"Come over here. He’s upstairs!"

The Medics followed him without waiting for anything else.

Behind them, the soldiers began unloading sealed cases from the Falcon. They held food, water, medical supplies, basic hygiene kits and other things the crew needed.

Several platform workers stared at the pile, unsure where to even look first.

One of them finally pointed.

"Those are for us?"

The soldier looked over.

"Please, come over. Don’t be shy."

"All... all of it?" another worker asked.

"You... asked for supplies and we brought it."

The crew stayed where they were, still staring at the cases. A younger crew member pinched his arm and laughed when it hurt. It came out strangely, halfway between disbelief and exhaustion.

Someone else covered his face with both hands.

"Fuck."

Another man crouched beside one of the cases and stayed there without opening it.

"We’re actually getting food. Food... I..."

That finally broke their hesitation.

The workers moved toward the supplies, although the soldiers stopped several from tearing into everything at once.

"Hey, slow down, folks," one of them reminded. "If you’ve been rationing that hard, don’t eat everything at once."

Nobody argued. They just kept reaching for the food.

A case was opened and smaller portions began passing from hand to hand. The reaction was quieter than Conrad might have expected from twenty-three people who had spent months trapped offshore.

Some ate too quickly anyway. Others sat down before taking their first bite.

One woman held a sealed meal container against her chest for several seconds before finally opening it.

The platform crew had survived, but the months showed clearly now that the ships were close enough to see them properly.

Loose work clothes hung from thinner bodies. Several faces hollowed around the cheeks, and exhaustion settled into the way many of them moved.

Their stored supplies kept them alive, but the reserves were running thin. They no longer had a lot of time remaining for them.

A woman approached one of the soldiers after finishing several mouthfuls of water. Her hands still shook around the bottle.

"Thank you, officer."

The soldier gave her a little room instead of making her stand directly in front of him.

"No need to thank me, ma’am. It’s what we should do."

He stepped back one more time. "You’re all right. Drink slowly."

"We didn’t know if anyone was still out there."

The soldier remained silent. She looked toward the Falcon, then past it toward the warships farther from the platform.

"By the way, who are you people?"

"From the Golden Eagle army."

She clutched her bottle tightly. "Golden Eagle...? Are you... Valerian?"

The soldier looked at her in confusion before shaking his head.

"We’re not Valerian. We’re from Grefort City, under Commander Golden Eagle."

"But your names—"

Another woman tugged at her sleeve. "Betty, let’s not make things complicated."

Betty, the woman who approached the soldier, smiled dryly and bowed.

"I’m sorry. That was... awkward."

"It’s okay," the soldier said. "We’re not Valerian. I can assure you of that."

Betty stared at the soldier for a little more before nodding in response.

The soldier wasn’t sure why she was suspicious, but he let the subject go. They still had people to evacuate, and that mattered more right now.

As they separated their ways, movement appeared from the entrance to the operations block.

"Clear the way!"

The Medics returned with the first patient.

The man on the stretcher looked worse than the others. An oxygen mask covered part of his face while one Medic kept pressure around a heavily dressed section near his abdomen.

The soldiers moved the workers aside and opened a path toward the Falcon. A second patient followed behind them with assistance rather than a stretcher.

The first evacuation began.