Page 7 of The Space Traveller's Lover

HOPE

Those kids … They must be here somewhere.

Albert Lobart finds it difficult to stop thinking about the impending Diablo’s cave operation due early the next morning.

He feels a strong urge to go back to the control room, delve once again into the video images captured by the rescue team, and check how the preparations are going.

He gets up from the dining room table and walks towards the kitchen door, briefly checking his phone for the latest ARA’s news report on his way out. The warm wind blows through his thin, baggy nightclothes.

“Damn!” he screeches, realising he hasn’t even changed into his working outfit, but he continues towards his vehicle and gets into the driving seat anyway. As his pickup truck’s headlights illuminate the large backyard, he sees his wife’s silhouette through the window.

“I won’t be long,” he shouts as he abruptly reverses his truck. He isn’t sure if she has heard him.

Pat follows the truck’s lights into the distance as it ploughs noisily up the farm road. Why is he in such a hurry? She wonders.

He speeds up on the narrow winding road, but his mind is focusing elsewhere. What will we find in Diablo’s cave? He keeps asking himself.

The global appeals have come to nothing, bringing fake responses and concocted tales. The large cash reward has not even produced the slightest credible claim. All the while, Lobart is convinced they must be somewhere on the island, even in the unlikeliest of places.

The sight of the tuna farm’s high steel gates makes him brake abruptly. As they open slowly, he is still imagining all kinds of outcomes, but the voice from the intercom breaks up his thoughts.

“Hi, Stella. Good, you’re on shift tonight. I’m coming upstairs!” He squeezes his truck through the opening gap, suddenly stopping at the control room’s entrance.

He slams the truck’s door as he gets out and jumps onto the steel staircase, climbing up the steps so quickly that Stella is caught by surprise when he suddenly opens the door.

“Oh, Mr Lobart, any news?” She promptly gets up from her chair and walks towards him.

But he barges past her into the adjacent room where rows of wall-mounted screens display the ARA’s wide-field images.

“I’ve been thinking all day, Stella,” he mumbles without taking his eyes off the screens.

“I see that you have,” she says in an ironic tone, bemused by his unkempt appearance but daring not to mention it.

“And the weather is on our side!” He waves his index finger in the air as he gets closer to one of the screens showing the roughened coastal area of Diablo’s Point.

He taps on the touchscreen and stops the video images on Diablo’s cave.

“The rescue team went in there … as far as they could,” Stella reminds him.

“Not far enough!” He swings around to confront her.

“But my brother would not have taken Erin into the dangerous alleys,” she contends.

“Those kids … They must be here somewhere,” Lobart grumbles, staring back at the haunting black cliffs.

“What if they’ve travelled farther away? What if they’ve gone to LA somehow? Erin may have made some friends at uni.” She raises her voice to attract his attention .

“No … No. They’re still on Tinian. And we must find them,” he retorts, his unyielding tone making it clear he’s not buying any of Stella’s suggestions.

“What’s next, then?” Stella asks in a resigned tone.

“I’ll call your father. You can go back to your shift!” he orders her while dialling on his mobile phone.

“Hope you are right,” Stella quips as she walks back into the control room.

As Lobart waits impatiently for his call to be answered, Bill Sheppard suddenly opens the control room’s door, his phone still ringing in his overall pocket.

“I’m on my way to see John Sanders,” Sheppard announces.

“About time! I’m coming with you!” Lobart blurts out while walking towards Sheppard.

“Okay, okay. Sanders and I are waiting for the order to set off. We’ll need to search the numerous passages after the second lake.”

“Numerous passages … They could be in any of those,” Lobart insists.

“The weather is easing. We’ll finally find out once and for all,” Sheppard states in a pessimistic tone.

“You still doubt, don’t you?” Lobart says with a sneer.

“I’ve told Sam, in no uncertain terms, never to go far into that cave without me. He has never disobeyed me—”

“Till now!” Lobart contests.

“Okay, let’s go. You’re already late, Albert. You need to get changed!” Sheppard mocks a dishevelled Lobart, who keeps groaning as he looks for his working overalls in the control room’s lockers.

“Stella, darling, your mum will pick you up tonight.” Sheppard waves at his daughter as he walks out of the door.

“Good luck!” Stella nods at her father and then scowls at Lobart behind his back as he clumsily slides his overalls over his nightclothes while grumbling to himself.

Sheppard and Lobart are soon heading towards the nearest search and rescue base in Sheppard’s pickup truck. As they arrive at the large harbour on the west of the island, they can see the ARA teams loading their equipment into the speedboats waiting by one of the piers .

They run towards the long grey building at the entrance of the overbuilt port terminal.

Sheppard unlocks the gates and shouts Sanders’s name as they make their way through the long path inside the vast aircraft hangar, walking past the five rescue helicopters parked in an orderly formation alongside each other.

As they reach the end of the aisle, they stop by the drones’ wall shelf, waiting for John Sanders to join them.

If anyone can navigate the drones into the depths of Diablo’s cave, it would be ARA Air Marshal John Sanders.

Since leaving Tinian in his youth, he has worked worldwide in rescue operations; at the forefront of the ARA’s most daring missions, he’s found survivors in the most inaccessible places using these specialist drones.

The experienced pilot has accumulated more than twenty thousand rescue flying hours in his fifteen years of service.

The distinctive aircraft wings tattoo on his forearm shows a star for every thousand hours he has achieved.

“Let’s start getting ready, Sanders,” Sheppard says as the tall, lanky figure of John Sanders joins them, wearing his trademark blue-and-red ARA’s flying uniform.

“Well … weather permitting,” Sanders cautions.

“The wind is easing,” Lobart notes while pointing at the weather channel on the wall-mounted widescreens.

“It can all change in an instant,” Sanders retorts, but Lobart’s obstinate glare won’t budge.

Sanders picks up a shiny black helmet from the instruments bench and connects it to the computer, turning on the interior augmented reality displays.

“I’ll set up the echolocation at the highest rate. This operation needs maximum precision,” Sanders says while loading the entire Diablo’s cave three-dimensional maps into the helmet’s guiding system.

Lobart looks directly into Sanders’s focused grey eyes as if checking for the pilot’s readiness. “Excellent,” Lobart says, nodding his head while patting Sanders on his shoulders.

“If they are there,” Sanders stoically remarks, “we will find them.”

“But that’s the first part,” Sheppard adds, his stark gaze forewarning Sanders of the challenges to come .

The men sit in front of the computer screens while Sanders logs into the ARA’s Main Rescue Network site.

“State your request type and code,” the ARA’s voice-controlled assistant announces.

“ARA, rescue code is 2099-468. Requesting permission to proceed with the last stage of search and rescue.”

“Waiting for authorisation,” the voice replies, but then they hear nothing.

The extended silence does not deter them; the men know they face a long wait through the night.

After checking the drone’s moving parts, echolocation trackers, and deep-range cameras, Sheppard and Sanders double-check every step of their carefully planned mission while an impatient Lobart keeps asking them questions. Unable to sleep, they wait for the zero hour.