The passenger cabin was dimly lit; only the LED entrance lights—four white panels—were on. Entering the cabin, I first turned on full lighting, signaling that I demanded attention. Daniels raised his head warily, while Lieutenant Howard pretended to be asleep and didn't react to the light. Emily and Keila followed me in, then Hunter, supported by Sarah at the elbow.
"General meeting," I reported, trying to stay calm. "Our situation is this: we found one entrance to the shelter, but we can't move the rock tightly covering it... There might be other emergency exits, but finding them takes time, and our water and food supplies are limited. So I ask each of you to voice your opinion. What the majority decides, so be it."
"And what do you think?" Daniels asked, lifting his head with difficulty.
"We must get into the shelter through the found entrance at all costs," I said. "I'm sure we won't find another entrance, though we should, of course, search."
"My opinion—we need to return to our shelter and try to release the water with explosions," the lieutenant said without opening his eyes. "If we succeed, we'll be supplied with food for a long time."
"What will we blow it up with?" Daniels asked.
"With the same thing we blew up here," Sarah unexpectedly supported the lieutenant.
Now that three of the former "Toiyabe Bastion" shelter personnel were in agreement, Hunter and I were in the minority. Only Emily and Keila's decision would affect our continued stay here.
"We have four thousand cartridges," Hunter began; he spoke quietly but clearly. "Each cartridge has ten grams of gunpowder..."
"Fifteen!" Howard shouted.
"Fine, fifteen. That makes 60 kilograms of powder total. Will the explosion be powerful enough to breach walls designed to withstand a nuclear blast?"
"For that, we'd need at least one and a half tons of TNT equivalent," Colonel Daniels unexpectedly supported us. "No. We need to break through into the shelter here. Returning to 'Toiyabe Bastion' is useless; we'd only waste precious time..."
"And you, Emily and Keila, what's your opinion?" I asked the girls. They exchanged glances.
"We think we should try to get in here through the found entrance," Emily answered shyly for both.
"So, the majority is for staying here and trying to break into the shelter," I summed up. "Any other suggestions?"
No one else had any other suggestions.
"Carry me to the tunnel and show me what kind of rock is there?" Colonel Daniels tried to rise, but pain in his spine apparently forced him back down.
"And now one more thing..." I looked at those present. Howard lowered his head, hiding behind the seat back. "According to Emily and Keila's statement, several crates of canned meat have disappeared from our supplies, and possibly other things... I ask whoever did this to return everything to its place before it's too late..."
"Such acts deserve severe punishment!" Colonel Daniels exclaimed indignantly. "No one else enters there without my permission!"
Perhaps this was the right decision, and the colonel finally felt useful. I considered our meeting adjourned.
I stood up, disconnected the cable leading to the ventilation shaft opening, then turned off the cabin lights, and ATLAS was plunged into complete darkness.
I slept poorly, tossing and turning—the thought of how to get into the shelter wouldn't leave me alone. I frantically tried to remember if there were other shelter entrances when suddenly, right in the middle of the night—02:47 ship's time—someone rose from the back rows and, stepping quietly on the cabin's soft carpet, opened the exterior door. The opening system lights unexpectedly activated, and I recognized Howard. He walked without his crutch and wasn't even limping. This surprised me. The cabin door closed behind him, and the lights went out. Exhausted, I dozed off and didn't tell anyone about the lieutenant's behavior.
When we woke, Sarah, with the girls' help, prepared breakfast from available supplies. After breakfast, we moved Daniels onto a stretcher—standard army issue with an aluminum frame and canvas—and carried him to the ventilation shaft opening. My tablet clock showed eight in the morning, but it was dark as midnight.
The electric spotlight illuminated the troublesome rock well, but the colonel asked to see the stone from all sides, then the slope we were on.
"What's ATLAS's load capacity?" he asked me, calculating something in his head.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "It never occurred to me to use it as a truck-tractor." But in any case, it certainly can't lift this rock..."
"Lift, of course not," the colonel agreed, "but if we dig under the slope properly, then tie the rock with a cable—I think we can push it down..."
The colonel's idea seemed realistic. I started estimating the rock's volume in cubic meters—approximately 12.5 m³. Then multiplied cubic meters by 2000 kg/m³ and got a round figure: twenty-five tons. But that didn't mean ATLAS would have to lift such a mass. We needed to calculate the force required to make the rock slide down the slope. I remembered ATLAS had a small electric jack model Enerpac RR-5013 with a 50-ton capacity, which greatly eased our task.
"Apparently, Daniels, you were an excellent commander," I praised him.
"Probably not that excellent," he smiled, "otherwise, I wouldn't have been transferred from ship to shore to command a shelter."
To avoid risking everything, we decided to unload all valuables and place them in one of the remaining heated Arctic-4 tents.
"Dig under the slope below the shaft opening," the colonel repeated. "Use the jack from the summit side and keep placing rocks underneath until possible. Only then try to pull the rock down the slope with ATLAS..."
A labor-intensive preparatory job lay ahead, and there were only two who could do it: me and Sarah. In the morning, Howard was limping on his crutch again as if nothing had happened and complaining of knee pain.
When we returned to ATLAS tired, Emily approached Sarah and whispered something in her ear.
"The canned meat crates are back in place?" Sarah asked loudly.
I understood why Howard had gone out at night but decided not to tell anyone yet.
Without wasting time, Sarah, I, Keila, and Emily, grabbing shovels, two crowbars, axes, and an emergency tool box from the baggage hold, went back to the shaft opening and got to work again. Ash and dust filled our eyes, mouth, nose, ears, but we worked tirelessly. After a short lunch break, we worked until late evening but completed only half of what was planned. When it was completely dark, we returned to ATLAS. Lieutenant Howard sat huddled in his seat and didn't even respond to our greeting. I immediately understood: something had happened.
"So? Did you get much done?" Daniels asked in a tone that made me even more certain something had occurred.
"About half," Sarah replied. "At least another day's work."
"That's fine," he reassured us. "Tomorrow, the lieutenant will go with you. It turns out he's been pretending all this time..."
"I'll complain!" Howard cried, but Daniels didn't let him finish.
"Captain! I ask you to examine the lieutenant's leg and give your conclusion. If he's simulating, which I have no doubt about, we'll judge him right now according to martial law!"
"I don't trust her!" Howard whined. "She..."
"Don't overstep, Lieutenant!" Sarah unhesitatingly headed toward him. "I'm a combat officer and, despite despising you, would never stoop to lying!" She stopped by his seat and sharply lifted his leg.
"Ow, ow, ow!" Howard yelled, but Sarah paid no attention to his cries. She rolled up his trousers, turned on the light above the seat, and began probing his leg near the knee.
"Was the injury above the knee?" she asked and unexpectedly bent his leg 90° at the knee. Howard screamed, but it was too late. Sarah jumped up, outraged. "Aren't you ashamed, Lieutenant? To simulate when we're in such a state??? A healthy hulk lounges in the cabin while even the girls work alongside everyone, all for our collective salvation!!! If we weren't so few, I'd right here..." Cooling down, she didn't finish, only threw a contemptuous glance at the lieutenant, took his crutch, and threw it outside.
The next day, early in the morning—05:53 ship's time—when we headed to work, the lieutenant came out first and worked all day alongside everyone.