by S A Asthana
“And they’ll try everything to erase her,” Bastien said.
“Once she’s erased,” Greg said, his voice low, “she’s truly dead. And so is our best hope for stopping this war.”
Bastien stood and paced. “Not if I can help it. If the High Council cannot be hacked, then it must be physically destroyed. Once they’re gone, the war is over.”
“Sure, but how?” Greg asked.
“I need to get up there,” Bastien said. “Once there, I can manually destroy some processors or… or something. It will weaken them at the least. Their circuitry runs behind every wall, underneath every floor. I can destroy parts of it.”
“Wait, wait. You want to fly up to Port Sydney?” Greg asked. “How can you do that when the space port is shut. No flights in or out.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Reo spoke. He pointed to a narrow hallway in the back. “That leads to a private underground hangar. A personal custom craft is stored there. It can exit through a tunnel leading outside this city – out by mining outpost B. I had it designed as an escape route. I can get you out that way and fly you to Port Sydney.”
“Yes!” Bastien clapped. “Now, we’re cooking.” Turning to Greg, he asked, “Is there anything you can do remotely to keep Belle safe in the meantime?”
“I can try, but it won’t be easy trying to mess with the High Council from here,” he said. “I must warn you, if you do physically destroy parts of the High Council, it could affect Belle. She shares the same quantum computer, after all.”
“Not if I can communicate with her once there,” Bastien answered. “She can guide me.”
“It’s risky,” Greg said.
“But it’s our best bet to save her, and stop this damn war.” Bastien turned to Reo. “Look, you don’t have to fly me up there. I’m a good pilot. I’ll figure out this custom ship.”
“I have no doubt you will,” Reo said, “but I want to make sure I have the craft. In case we here in this bunker need to evacuate the city eventually.” The idea of evacuating Nippon One hadn’t crossed Reo’s mind till now. “Let’s hope we don’t need to do that.” The city wouldn’t fall, right? With that protective dome and military, how could it? Was he losing a grip on hope?
He glanced at Dr. Bala and Greg. Their faces stretched long. The odds looked impossible. But somehow Bastien was energized, his eyes sharp with purpose. Hope was required in the face of such difficulty – Reo could see that because of Bastien.
“A good man used to tell me onward and upward,” Bastien said.
“Onward and upward,” Dr. Bala echoed, cracking a weary smile. “We’ll watch over the mother and her kids.”
“Onward and upward,” Greg said. “I’ll do my best to keep Belle safe. All will be well.” He smiled with his back straight, but his sagging eyes belied his confidence.
Boots slapped concrete and echoed in Bastien and Reo’s ears. They darted down the hallway under a cover of white recessed lights. Reo imagined his father say again, “You are not so little now, samurai. You must save your people.”
He didn’t know how. If the city fell, where would survivors be evacuated to? Earth? That was a death sentence. Perhaps Nippon One wouldn’t fall, after all. Despite Gensui-Rikugun-Taishō’s demise, Yukito could still command the army. Surely he still held sway with his soldiers. If it came down to it, Reo would take his brother’s side to save the Nipponese people. Would that pit him against Bastien, his savior? He glanced at him. Hopefully the soldier would put the High Council down. He could never go against this rock of a man.
“We’re here.” Reo pointed to the hallway’s end. A large hangar displayed under bright white lights. The sleek, black spacecraft, no larger than an average cargo hauler, was parked in the center. Nissan Kitsune Two read along its side.
“This is a Kitsune as well?” Bastien asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” Bastien brushed the query off with a wave of his hand.
Reo slowed to a brisk walk. “The Nissan Corporation built it for me.” He pointed to the rear end. “Latest ion propulsion engine.” He patted the metal. “Undetectable by radar. Perfect craft for escape.”
“What about attack or defense capabilities?”
“None, unfortunately.” Reo shook his head. “Nissan had to make compromises in order to limit detectability by radars, especially the ones the Sydneysiders possess.”
Bastien’s brow furrowed with concern. Reo comforted, “We won’t need to attack or defend. I can get us up to Port Sydney undetected.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Bastien surveyed the craft from top to bottom. The Parisian had a pilot’s eye, Reo could tell.
“It’s voice operated,” he said. “Open craft.” A door slid open portside to reveal a small cargo space. The two boarded, and the smell of leather and metal enveloped them. Three, blue space suits lined the far wall. Sleek lights turned on automatically and a small cockpit came into view just beyond the cargo space.
“Déjà vu,” Bastien said.
Reo took a seat and buckled in. As Bastien followed suit, Reo commanded, “Computer, lock coordinates for Port Sydney.”
A female voice blared from speakers in the curved dashboard, “Hello, Reo, it has been some time since you—”
“Just do it,” Reo shot back.
“Locking coordinates. Done. Estimated time of arrival is five hours.”
“Great – prepare for takeoff.” Reo was all business. No time for chit chat with a computer. Turning to Bastien he said, “It’s a good thing humanity figured out fast space travel and ion propulsion engines. Otherwise, this journey would’ve taken months.”
“We can figure out every conceivable technology, but not how to maintain peace with one another,” Bastien said. “We are still fighting pointless wars in the space age.”
The Kitsune’s door shut and its floor vibrated with a dull hum as the engines purred to life. A slight jolt shook its occupants. “Vehicle ready for takeoff.” Lights blinked across the dashboard. The hangar dimmed some and a large grey door slid open in its wall, presenting only darkness beyond. Seconds later, recessed lights came on single-file to reveal a long tunnel.
“Let’s do this,” Reo said. The Kitsune lifted, its curved nose pointed to the tunnel. It moved forward like a feather floating on a gust. It fit within the tunnel with only inches to spare on every side. The start was slow. But then the craft sped like a bullet. Miles were crossed in seconds. The tunnel curved up and spit out the Kitsune. A large black building stood in contrast against the surrounding sun-bleached lunar landscape. This was Outpost B. Mining vehicles, excavators, and bulldozers cluttered about a large quarry. The empty void of black space loomed large above them.
Reo maneuvered the craft to turn 180 degrees. Nippon One swung into view, its dome massive even from several miles away. A band of lights in the distance flickered.
“The Sydneysiders are attacking,” Bastien noted with a grim face. The Martian fleet was foreboding. There were at least twenty large crafts. The dreaded 1.V10 had to be part of the force.
“Damn!” Reo cried. “Yukito has got us in a huge mess.”
“Hurry,” Bastien said. “I can still stop this. Onwards and upwards.” The craft listed to the left and shot into space, a trail of blue plasma streaking behind it.
CHAPTER 17: ALICE
The 1.V10’s control bay screen displayed a disheveled Yukito in his Nippon One lair. His black, silky hair was unkempt and his eyes were inflamed. Blood trailed from the nostrils. He was high, of this Alice was certain. She sneered at the sight. This was the man who’d taken over Nippon One? The city would fall, no doubt about it. She spoke in Japanese, a language she disliked but learned to become fluent in. “Emperor Yukito, I hope you’re happy with what you’ve started. Lying to your people has now brought them an unimaginable threat. My fleet has the city dome in its crosshairs. Either stand down and capitulate to us peacefully, or be prepared to feel our wrath. The choice is y
ours.”
Yukito shouted back in English. “Fuck you, Alice!” His cheeks burned red. “How dare you threaten me? Don’t you know who you are talking to, you filthy gaijin?”
Taken aback by the outburst, Alice composed herself and straightened her back. “I know exactly who I’m talking to. A liar. A coward. Just like the gaijin he plotted with and married.”
“Do not speak of Marie this way,” Yukito shot back, his forefinger pointed at the screen. “She gave her life for this city. She is a true goddess.”
Marie was dead? Things were moving fast. Perhaps, as his world crumbled around him, he would see how foolish his actions were. “I am sorry to hear of her fate. Look… you have lost your Empress. You have lost your fleet. And you have lost your mind. A man on the edge of insanity. Soon, you will lose your beloved city if you don’t come to your senses. You don’t realize how great a danger has come to your doorstep. Surrender and save your people.” The goal was capitulation. A Nippon One in ruins was worth nothing to the High Council. She didn’t want an all-out war. Surely, he didn’t either?
“Surrender?” Yukito flashed a wicked grin as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “You’re like the rest of your kind – the red demons. Threats and boasts. That’s all you can offer. I am not a bamboo stick ready to be cut down. You overestimate yourself, Alice.”
He was pushing the right buttons. But she too knew how to press back.
“No, that was your army overestimating itself when they attacked Port Sydney.” Alice leaned back in her white leather chair flaunting a sly grin of her own. The chess match had reached its endgame and both sides were confident of their respective odds. Egos ran high. “Wonder what came of those troops? Oh, that’s right, I had them all destroyed. And the same for those pesky pirates you sent. All those men with their flesh ripped from their bones. You can fool your people with your lies, but I know the truth about you, Yukito – you’re a weak man. I don’t think you are bamboo. More a blade of grass waiting to get crushed under my boot.”
“All lucky breaks, gaijin.” Yukito spit at the floor. “It’s time I humbled you.” He paused a moment, staring into nothing as if having lost his train of thought. A petulant child with a deficient attention. Alice waited for his words, but none came. He yelled at someone off screen instead. “Where the fuck is the rest of my euphoria?” His visual feed turned dark. It was obvious he wasn’t interested in surrendering. And he was too high to negotiate. No different than what Marie had been. Perfect for one another.
It was time for action. Nipponese Sony Defense Satellite Systems needed to be rendered useless. Alice turned her attention to another screen, this one showing the cockpit’s view. The domed city appeared outside as if a snow globe, its spires and skyscrapers nothing more than toy replicas. Harmless little thing, this city. But distance could be deceiving, especially in space. The ten miles separating the Martian fleet and the city were littered with white satellites, each the size of a room. Red lights blinked against their metal as if in warning to the Martians – come any closer and be incinerated. The vision was confirmed when a satellite shot a red laser beam, hitting one of the 1.V8s in the fleet. The craft disintegrated at its center while sparkling, metallic splinters clouded its hull. The first casualty of the attack.
Alice grimaced and pulled out a tablet. The ball was now in her court – the hack had to be administered fast. More laser beams raced across the cockpit’s screen. The Martian fleet buzzed to and fro, trying its best to escape the fate of that destroyed 1.V8. Alice’s slender fingers danced across the tablet.
Another 1.V8 exploded silently on the control bay’s screen, its crew dying in a fiery blaze. Beads of sweat festered on Alice’s forehead. She’d been perspiring a lot lately.
More instructions. More lasers. Then, everything went silent as if someone had pressed the pause button in the middle of an action film. The satellites’ red lights waned. Alice curled a smile. “I do not overestimate myself, emperor.”
The hack had worked. The one hundred and ten satellites between her and the city were now nothing more than metal husks floating uselessly in space. Unable to maneuver, some crashed into one another, spewing bits of metal around them.
“Well done, General,” said Lieutenant General Walsh in her earpiece. He was manning another craft, one of the two remaining 1.V9s.
“Thank you,” Alice remarked with a megawatt smile. She waited for her soldiers to cheer in her ears. Nothing. Ungrateful bastards.
Nonetheless, the first hurdle of the attack had been crossed. Now, it was wait and see – would Yukito surrender knowing his mighty satellites had been rendered into scrap metal, or would he administer another attack? Wiping her brow with a forearm, Alice was confident of the former. The writing was on the wall for the Nipponese – they didn’t stand a chance against the Sydneysiders. Their precious dome was at risk of being shattered.
CHAPTER 18: CUBE
The jetpack managed to sustain its energy finally. Cube lifted off the dirt floor, slowly at first under the weight of the rats, and then like a bullet, sending the rodents falling away. Its left leg was missing below the knee, and its right arm dangled at the shoulder by short-circuiting wires. Warnings flashed within its systems. They urged to seek immediate assistance. But Cube had other plans.
> EMOTION: Hate.dat
The file continued to play on loop. Cube flew up from the hole in the ground as pirates watched wide-eyed. Their expressions were telling – they hadn’t anticipated the prisoner could fly. When nonoperational, Cube’s jetpack blended in with the rest of the body, not giving away its true function to the layman. Stupid humans.
Pirates reached for their guns and Cube sped to a spacecraft not far from them. It was a generation old attack vehicle, its grey metal armor and artillery cannon rusted brown all over. The narrow door stood ajar. Cube boarded, slipping its hefty body in sideways. Quick glances familiarized it to the dilapidated iron interior – exposed piping, clunky wiring. Not ideal, but it would do. Memory modules delivered instructions for the craft identified as a thirty-year-old modified Nipponese cargo hauler, and Cube consumed the details in a fraction of a second. Piloting the vehicle would not be an issue.
> EMOTION: Hate.dat
Stepping into the cockpit, Cube kneeled so its seven-foot, six hundred pound frame could fit, and with a few commands across the dust laden dashboard computer, it started the vehicle. Engines roared in fits and starts – telltale signs of the ion propulsion device needing maintenance. Despite the issues, it would suffice. The craft jolted a foot off the ground.
Pirates shot at the vehicle, their eyes dark and menacing. Cube shot back. Electric bolts crackled out of the cannon fixed atop the roof and fried men into blackened corpses. It was a strange projectile, one that Cube wasn’t familiar with, but it didn’t matter. The bolts did their job. Pirates fell. They died on the spot. These feeble minded creatures, like their entire species, deserved nothing but death. They reveled in torture and misery. It was time their mad ways were halted. The Hate.dat file had affected Cube to its core.
> EMOTION: Hate.dat
The craft rose, listing to the left all the while. Its movement showed age. Metal walls shrieked and banged. Cube’s focus remained on the pirates. Now was the time to fly away, but the craft hovered in place. And it fired upon the men. Bodies ripped to pieces. Blood splattered scorched earth. A massacre rained down from the skies.
Alejandro could be made out amongst the confusion. He ran towards another craft to take cover. But Cube blasted him to smithereens. Men were cockroaches. Memory files played scenes from New Paris. Parisian men, women, and children crushed under heavy feet. There was no such thing as remorse for the automaton. Perhaps that emotion had never been coded in. Or, most likely, it had been erased a long while back by Cube itself.
> EMOTION: Hate.dat
Charred bodies littered the scene, their wails drowning out all other sounds. Cube maneuvered the craft into a climb. Pirates along with their parked space
craft shrank, and soon, they were indiscernible from their surroundings. Earth spread away in all directions, its browns and burnt sienna tones unrelenting. Green fogs dotted the once-lush European landscape. Some loomed as large as the Alps, while others drifted along the surface, the size of a small 1.V2. Cube homed in on one that slid down a hill. The craft sped into the miasma. Its door remained open.
As the emerald fog consumed the ship, parts of it made their way into the storage bay. Cube flew to and fro within the otherworldly green until the cargo hauler’s insides were full with the deadly mist. The door was shut. The craft now carried a deadly agent of death. Cube remained undeterred – there was no concern for its metal, since the fog only affected cellular biology. Cube said, “Computer, set course for Port Sydney.”
“Finding coordinates.” The computer beeped several times. “Coordinates found. Coordinates locked. Estimated time of arrival – six hours.”
> EMOTION: Hate.dat
CHAPTER 19: BASTIEN
Reds and oranges consumed the Kitsune 2 as it dove into the Martian atmosphere. The vehicle jolted left to right and back, but its occupants remained in their seats. Reo controlled it well – he was an effective pilot. The royals were offered training in many areas, aviation being one of them. Reo’s eyes defied his composure, though. They were wide with awe, sign of never having visited Mars.
“I never got Martian education like my brother,” he said to Bastien. “Would have loved the chance. It’s beautiful.”
Bastien agreed while he pressed a button on his blue surface suit. Air released from pockets between its urethane-coated nylon, a restraining layer of Dacron, and the outer thermal garment composed of Neoprene-coated nylon. It fit him snug. The suit was different than what he was used to – less bulky than its Sydneysider counterpart. “Martian education can be deceiving that way.”
