For once Rene’s sleep was untroubled by dreams. He slept in the unrelieved darkness of complete exhaustion oblivious to the universe. Genetic enhancements and brutal physical and mental conditioning could only take one so far and the exertions of the past days had pushed Rene closer to the limit than he would have admitted. Even so, he had been on Panopontus long enough that his body dutifully woke him an hour or so before dawn for stand-to. Rising, he stretched his muscles working the tight cords out of his back. Solae lay in the bed in a deep sleep, somehow as beautiful in her repose as in every other aspect of her life. For a few moments he simply watched her, drinking in the sight before finally turning and heading out of the bedroom and into the main house.

To Rene’s surprise Tychon was in the kitchen, stirring a packet of instant caffine into a mug of hot water. The other man looked up at Rene in some surprise. The Panoponti was wearing another set of heavy duty coveralls, though they were knotted around his waist revealing a white cotton undershirt.

“You’re up early,” Tychon observed, pouring a second cup of caffine without asking Rene if he wanted one.

“Habit is a powerful thing,” Rene said, accepting the lukewarm cup of liquid thankfully and taking a sip. To his surprise it appeared to be based on a protein broth rather than on water. The subversion of expectations was a little unpleasant but he supposed it made sense to combine breakfast with the stimulant drink.

“That it is,” Tychon agreed casting a companionable glance at the soldier.

“I’m up this time every morning, to check the weather normally, can't harvest coral in a storm or if it is too rough.” A light but persistent rain was falling outside, pattering off the corrugated iron roofing. Out in the yard Rene could see that the sealed path was flowing with a shallow stream of water, though judging by his hosts lack of alarm, this was nothing unusual. Large green plants with heart shaped leaves, low enough to the ground and with sufficient protection to have survived the hurricane, writhed under the rain as they shed the water.

“I’m guessing that you aren’t up to check the weather,” Tychon went on, sipping at his breakfast and arching an eyebrow.

“Not exactly,” Rene agreed but didn’t amplify the statement. Telling Tychon that he was checking the perimeter would seem paranoid at best and confirm any suspicions that they had something to hide. That probably wasn’t much of a stretch considering how they had arrived and the fact that a pair of obvious nobles were here at all.

“You aren’t going out today I take it?” Rene asked. The air was redolent with the scent of the ocean and the earthy smell of rain falling on loose soil. The alien plant life tinged the whole mixture with something vaguely resinous, different from the plant life of other world Rene had visited. It was cooler than new Concordia had been, though Rene doubted it ever got as cold as the slightly alpine region of Cappela where his family kept its estate.

“No most of the fleet is beached, driven ashore by the storm,” Tychon said. There was a tightness to his face and Rene realised the hardship that represented for people living hand to mouth. It might be months before San Roayo was able to resume its normal business.  Rene wondered if his father's agents ever took that into account when they made their demands for rents and dues. He doubted it and the revelation made him feel embarrassed, an expression he covered by taking a draught of the caffeinated soup.

“You are getting ready to go out though,” Rene observed gesturing to Tychon in his obvious work attire. A pair of muddy boots stood by the door along with a webbing belt of tools. Rene didn’t recall Tychon wearing it last night but then there had been rather alot going on. The other man nodded and set his now empty cup down.

“Aye, there are still collapsed houses we are searching, though honestly….” Tychon didn’t finish the sentence, but Rene understood that by this time, days after the storm had hit, it was obvious that few survivors were expected.

“Don’t worry ill be back to take you to the fluorine warehouse in a few hours,” Tychon assured him. Rene shook his head in dismissal.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked before he had time to think it through. His head turned unconsciously towards the bedroom where Solae slumbered. Tychon smiled as though he could read Rene like a book.

“Don’t worry she will be safe here,” Tychon assured him, then he gestured towards an open closet where two outfits more or less identical to the one he wore, hung on wooden hangers. Rene hesitated a moment in indecision. He didn’t want to leave Solae alone but if she were awake he knew what she would tell him to do. After a moment he crossed and grabbed one of the sets of coveralls and changed into them drawing the zipper up over his own tan cotton shirt. Tychon wasn’t quite the same size as Rene but the garments were designed with versatility in mind. Stepping back into the guest room he transferred his pistol from his combat pants to one of the pockets on the borrowed garment and then scribbled a quick note to Solae, explaining that he was going with Tychon and would be back in a few hours. He left one of the small communicators atop the note, preset to the frequency they were using. Crossing to the sleeping marquessa he kissed her lightly on the forehead and then slipped out to join in the rescue effort.

The scale of the destruction was greater than Rene had realised. The darkness and rain of the night before had done alot to conceal the reality of the storm ravaged settlement. In the cold light of day Rene could see that few structures had escaped the destruction completely. Many roofs had been torn off by the howling winds and most houses had smashed windows or cracked masonry where they had been struck by flying debris. The streets were littered with a mixed detritus of building material and shattered trees. Here and there a wheeled vehicle was parked, mostly small trucks or other transports but few people on San Roayo seemed to own personal vehicles.

Closer to the strand the damage was worse. The buildings here were almost universally in ruins, smashed piles of synthetic sheeting and structural beams. The roads themselves, composed of crushed coral, sand and plasticized stabilizing agent were torn into chunks where water had been forced beneath them by the wind. Here and there a water main leaked with a slow gurgle, the pumps that would have made them geysers having been shut off or lost power. Tychon had spoken of the coral gathering fleets being ‘driven ashore’ earlier. Rene had assumed that he meant beached but barges more or less like the one in which they had crossed the straight lay scattered about in yards and on the street, carried up over the beach by the storm surge. Seaweed, sand, fishing nets and other refuse from the ocean marked where the waters had reached and anything much beyond that line was a hopeless ruin.

Gangs of men and women hand obviously been at work throughout the night. They formed lines beginning at the worst struck houses, carrying away rubble and debris and tossing it into large piles. Chemical lights on long poles had been thrust into the ground to provide illumination through the night and from the haggard and exhausted looks many had been at it for long hours. Here and there sat official looking vehicles, with ‘Gendarmerie’ stenciled on the sides. They were air cushioned jeeps rather than wheeled transports and Rene assumed they were what San Roayo had for police. The vehicles were universally unoccupied with the officers evidently having joined the rescue parties.

Tychon led him to where a group of men were working to clear debris from a smaller house. Several cutting bars shrieked as their diamond teeth sliced through structural beams to allow them to be carried away. The burning plastic of the cuts gave the whole thing an acrid chemical reek. Rene had been concerned with how Tychon would introduce him but he merely grunted that Rene was a friend of his from off the island and no one paid it any more attention. 

“Do you think there are people still inside?” he asked Tychon as he helped shift a large slab of synthetic stone. The other man looked sombre.

“Doubtful, Madrig, that's the blond fellow over there, his wife was in the house when the storm hit, came back for some medication for her mother,” Tychon explained. Rene looked up and down the street at the devastation. Some houses were being left as they were, others were being worked on.

“We all worked crews together, those of us who have everyone accounted for…” Tychon made a sign with his hand that Rene presumed was a thanks to the universe, “we are working for those who are missing.” Rene nodded his understanding. There was nothing like an organized governmental response as yet, just neighbours helping neighbours. Even if it wasn’t actively involved in the rebellion, the government on Panopontus must have dozens of islands like San Royao to consider.

“Have you scanned for life?” Rene asked as he took a structural timber from another man. Tychon frowned as though Rene were speaking an alien language.

“How do you mean?” he asked in evident confusion. Rene reached into his satchel and drew forth a pair of the multi-function goggles he had taken from the Bonaventure and clipped them over his eyes. Judging from Tychon’s shocked look this was high technology on San Roayo. The googles were able to amplify vision in a number of spectrum but Rene clicked the dial to infrared. The world became a mass of shifting blues and greens. The rain drops slanted across the view as cool cyan streaks where as the cutting bar blades glowed white. Rene hadn’t expected to find anything, but too his shock he saw the faint outline of a warm body shaped object in one of the corners of the house, slightly below the ground level in what must have once been a basement or a crawl space.

“There!” he pointed and pulling the googles free moved over to the excavated corner. Tychon followed him wordlessly and took the goggles from his hand as Rene took the cutting bar from one of the exhausted workers. The man looked angry but was too tired to offer much in the way of protest.

“Brace these beams,” Rene ordered and made a series of triangular cuts, lifting away flooring and collapsed wall. The man Tychon had identified as Madrig rushed over, his face a mask of anger and grief, but Thycon merely held out a hand to prevent him from interfering.  In a few minutes Rene had cut away enough of the flooring to reveal a middle aged woman. She was unconscious and blood was congealed on her face where she had been struck by something but her chest still rose and fell in shallow breaths.

“She is alive!” Madrig shouted and jumped into the space with another man to lift the woman free, passing her muddy form up to the men who gathered around the hole. She would need medical attention but Rene thought she would live. Tychon pressed the goggles to his face and swore.

“By the seas! These things can actually see through the rubble?!” he demanded. Madrig enfolded Rene in a hug before he could respond, tears of relief ran down his face as he thanked him effusively. Rene bore it awkwardly, his aristocratic upbringing didn’t give him much comfort with such physicality.

“It won't help if someone is already dead or if they are buried too deep….” but Tychon wasn’t listening instead he thrust the goggles back to Rene.

“Come with me, we will scan the other houses,” he declared and set off down the street towards the next gang.

“Where did you get such a device?” One of the other men asked in wonder. Rene realised too late that he might have made a mistake in revealing what to him was fairly simple technology but was obviously far ahead of what the locals had to hand. He cursed himself for having exposed Solae to additional risk, but what could he do?

“I was a crewman on a starship,” Rene said, thinking quickly, “just sort of ended up in my kit I guess.”