After Moses: Wormwood

by Michael F Kane

  The pilot looked over at the navigation display and gave a thumbs-up as he altered course coming up toward the moon. Phobos was small, roughly a dozen kilometers across on average. Being tidally locked with Mars, one side always faced the red planet. It was that side they now approached. The moon had an eye of receding concentric rings nearly half a kilometer across dug into its surface, housing a deadly weapon that stared down on the colonies of Mars. An iris sank into the abyss at the center, a dark tunnel leading into the moon. The only way in, Yvonne realized, passed through the middle of the weapons array. Under normal circumstances, no enemy could ever hope to commandeer the facility without being blown apart. But the vigilant eye had let down its guard and invited an enemy to pass through it.

  “Take her back to the cell,” Logan said. “At least until we’ve taken control of the station. And when it’s safe, we’ll make sure our guests are given a front-row seat.” He smiled in triumph at Yvonne as he pushed passed her into the hall. She resisted the urge to lunge at him. There was nothing to gain from lashing out right now. She would wait until the moment was right.

  And pray there even was a right moment.

  Chapter 15: The Gates of War

  Everyone lost someone when Earth fell or at least knew someone that did. We’d only been in space a few generations and most of us still had family there. Most of us had been there. Back in those days, travel was cheap, and families could afford an occasional vacation to Earth. It was a way that we all stayed united, a heritage we shared, even if the stars were now at our feet.

  Sometimes I try to imagine what it was like there after Moses left. How did they handle the world crumbling to war and chaos? What was lifelike for survivors of those wars? Did they think about us in the colonies and wonder about our fate too or was the daily struggle too much.

  The truth is, we forgot about them, or else pretended that we had. What few ships tried to go home after Earth fell never returned.

  So even though we all lost someone, we tried not to talk about them. It was just easier that way.

  Hasani Shabani

  Welder, Mbeya Ceres

  Died 27 AM

  THE IMPERIOUS DOUBT joined up with Lantern Fleet in a holding orbit some thousand kilometers away from Phobos. Matthew left Davey behind the helm, mostly to observe him. He was well aware Yvonne had been teaching him, but he wanted to judge his progress for himself. And since he’d been flying Whitaker’s ship for a few days, Matthew didn’t want to kick him out of the pilot’s seat unless there was a reason.

  “You know, you’re making me nervous,” Davey said without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

  “Good. That’s my job. But you’re doing well.”

  “The Doubt is a dream to fly,” he admitted. “So many routine maneuvers are automated. Orbital transfers, deorbit burns. It’s almost too easy.”

  “Don’t worry,” Matthew said. “We’re not trading in the Sparrow.”

  Matthew’s comm buzzed. “It’s ‘Elwa. Go ahead and pull us into formation beside the Queen.” He flicked the comm on. “We’re here.”

  “I’m glad you could join us,” she said. “My sympathies for the rough spot your crew is in. And your mother, of course.”

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “What’s the status up here?”

  “We are awaiting your command.”

  Right. They were going to default to him because the guild was supposed to be his show. Never mind that his arm had been twisted into agreeing to the whole thing. “Have you set up a fleet channel?”

  “Sending you the frequencies now.”

  He passed them through to the Doubt’s computer and opened up a line to Lantern Fleet. “This is Matthew Cole aboard the Imperious Doubt. I’ve never heard of a group of Freelancers who have joined together for something like this. Maybe this is history in the making, but either way, I appreciate your willingness to serve your fellow man. Do a call out, so I know who I’m talking to.”

  “Gebre’elwa and the Queen of Sheba stand ready at your command.”

  “The Azure Dream under Captain Alex Dominguez is ready to go.”

  “Captain Tamru of the Qolxad is prepared to follow your lead.”

  “The Ddraig Goch and Ewan Hywels are ready as always. We’re with you, Cole, and hoping you’ve got one of those plans of yours that wins the day.”

  “Not yet,” he admitted. “But hopefully soon. I have a member of the Arizonan Government aboard my ship. He’s in contact with the administration. And as soon as we know what’s going on, we’ll respond accordingly. Standby for further orders.”

  He closed the channel and slumped into his chair. Davey gave him a stare. “What, you’re not nervous, are you?”

  “Of course I am. Logan is aboard the Phobos Platform.”

  “Maybe the defenders were able to fight them off. We might hear from Yvonne and Elizabeth and it’s all going to be okay.” Matthew wasn’t a pessimist, but he couldn’t quite get himself to believe it would be that easy. And with each passing second with no word from Phobos, that was seeming less and less likely.

  Abigail and Grace entered the cockpit with a tray of snacks. Matthew grabbed a handful of salted peanuts, not remembering how long it had been since a meal. “This was all we could scrounge,” Grace said, apologetic. “Whitaker eats worse than we do.”

  “Are we still waiting on Thompson?” Abigail asked.

  Davey nodded. “Apparently, all things government waste time.” He hit a key and a map of Martian space came up. “Meanwhile, we’re less than two hours until Phobos has a line of sight on the Kyoto factory.”

  “Yes,” Thompson said, entering the cockpit. “Which is why the Treaty Organization has a commando team en route to Phobos as we speak.”

  “They’ll be dead men if Logan has managed to seize control of the facility. He’s been on Phobos forty minutes already,” Matthew said.

  “A risk that soldiers take,” Thompson said. “Their shuttle is ten minutes out. And I’d appreciate it if we give them that time before doing anything rash. Like staging an attack on an HiTO military base.”

  Matthew crossed his arms. “And time is ticking. We all know what the intended target is. Logan announced his plans months ago. The HiTO made the gun, they loaded it, and then they lost it. We’re on a timer now, and if there’s any hope the guild can stop that gun from firing, we intend to.”

  Thompson sighed. “I suggested such an attack was rash. I didn’t say it wasn’t the only reasonable thing to do. I don’t know how quickly the HiTO will be able to muster a full-scale response, and through a miracle, you’ve already done so. Let’s just hope it was a wasted effort.”

  Matthew turned to stare at Phobos, hanging in the distance. “We have to assume the worst,” he said finally. “If the commando team fails, what are our options?”

  “We threaten to blow it up. Get them to surrender,” Grace said.

  Abigail shook her head. “Five ships aren’t enough to take apart an entire moon. Not before they have a chance to fire.”

  Grace brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly acting nervous. “That might not actually be true.”

  Matthew frowned and then wheeled on Davey. “What have you two neglected to tell me?”

  “We’ve had the ship to ourselves for a couple days,” he said, “and thought it would be smart to take a thorough inventory.”

  Matthew held his breath. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. Whitaker had insinuated years ago that he had an arsenal. He pulled up a munitions screen and leaned back so everyone else could see the readout. “As it turns out, Whitaker is packing some serious firepower.”

  “How serious are we talking?” Thompson asked quietly as he leaned in to get a look.

  Matthew grimaced as he read the screen. “Three eight-hundred-kiloton nuclear torpedoes.”

  YVONNE, ELIZABETH, and Whitaker were pushed unceremoniously down the Sparrow’s ramp. The hangar around them was carved from the natural rock of Phobos and r
einforced with steel girders. Besides the Sparrow, the only ship was a single small shuttle, the kind that could pack in fifty passengers. Which, Yvonne realized, meant that for safety reasons the entire installation had less than fifty crew, many of whom were probably technical rather than military. The Phobos Platform was meant to be defended from the outside, not the inside.

  At the bottom of the ramp were the remains of a slaughter. Eight dead soldiers in the uniforms of three different Martian militaries. She recognized the Arizonan and Russian ones but couldn’t identify the third. Probably another important signator of the Highland Treaty Organization. These men had been expecting Matthew Cole and came face to face with a barrage of gunfire. They were never even given a chance to fight back.

  “I see you were polite with the welcome committee,” Whitaker said, earning him an additional shove.

  Yvonne glanced around the hangar memorizing every detail in the hopes that it would be useful in a hypothetical escape. Behind them, the hangar opened into the roughly one-kilometer tunnel through the moon, before exiting out to space. It was reinforced with support beams, and through the distant portal the dull red glow of the Martian surface was visible. She saw a few side doors, but only one major exit in the far wall. They were being directed toward it. The doors slid apart to reveal a wide clean hall, bearing a certain sterile military feel. Unfortunately, the scattering of bodies, some of them she recognized as former captors, did little to add to the charm. A series of metal barricades that had risen out of the floor for the defenders blocked three-quarters of the hall at regular intervals. The central hallway design, combined with the defenses, would have made for a formidable fortress that even a small group could hold for an extended period of time. Had the defenders not been taken wholly unaware and unprepared, of course.

  Her eyes roved to the signage on side halls. Dormitories. A mess hall. A series of numbered tunnels, heading presumably into technical regions of the installation. It was a self-sufficient, if small, military base.

  “I like to think Matthew might have had words about the security situation had he taken Barclay up on that offer sooner,” Elizabeth said.

  Yvonne could only shake her head sadly. Defenses are effective when approached by something they are intended to repel. An enemy was never expected to land on the Phobos Platform, for the entrance was in the iris of the weapon itself. Logan had simply out-thought the HiTO and sidestepped their preparations.

  At the end of a hall, a set of stairs led up to a bulkhead door. They were marched up the steps, through the door that slid open at their approach, and into a large modern command center. A handful of Logan’s men manned the various stations.

  The man himself stood at ease, eyes on the central tactical display. He turned at their entry. “Welcome, to the Phobos Platform, and the crowning achievement of the Abrogationist movement.”

  They were made to sit in the middle of the room. Yvonne spat in Logan’s direction. “Yours is a movement that devalues human life. It’s a curse on civilization.”

  “Your opinion is misinformed. We aim to lower the grand total of human suffering. The colonies are doomed, but it will take centuries for the last of them to slowly suffocate under the crushing weight of entropy.” He approached and knelt in front of them. “Ours is imminently preferable to the haphazard plan of this meddler.” He glared at Whitaker. “He who has caused immense suffering, who’s propped up the slave cartels, assassinated the Caliph of Al Bakarj, who whispers in the ears of a hundred bureaucrats. Yes, I know all about you. Everything except your name and where you came from. You delay the inevitable and bring anguish upon humanity. The death toll of your passing is a dozen times mine.”

  “And yet because of my actions, there will still be a humanity,” Whitaker said, devoid of expression. “I don’t need to justify myself.”

  “Nor am I interested in hearing your vain attempts. But you will watch my victory.” He turned to one of his men hunched over a console. “Is the ship in range?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Activate the automated defenses then. Let anyone who thinks they can stop us find a swift death.” On the main screen, Phobos turned gold, and a constellation of red lights winked into existence around it. Satellites perhaps? Yvonne also saw a rapidly approaching ship. “Put it on the scopes,” Logan said. “I’m curious to see the Phobos Platform in action.”

  A secondary screen showed a view of the ship. Yvonne breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a model she recognized. Probably no one they knew then. Abruptly, Phobos turned red on the main screen, and there was a distant buzzing sound as the lights dimmed. The ship was utterly obliterated, any debris blasted out of view in an instant. It was almost exactly how Matthew had described the Guns of the Vatican, the Four Horsemen, in their escape from Villa María. Both were weapons of terrifying power.

  “Very good. And that was only a limited fire.” Logan said. “Transmit our list of demands to the HiTO.”

  “Petty ransom now?” Whitaker asked.

  “No, but this will keep the entire planet occupied. And as for your little fleet of Guild ships...” He zoomed out the view to show a cluster of ships lurking in a nearby orbit. ‘Elwa’s super freighter stuck out like a sore thumb, betraying their identity. “They can’t possibly assault this installation with that petty a fighting force. They’ll never get through the defensive field, nor can they approach the iris without facing the weapon.”

  Yvonne stared at the five guild ships. Davey and Grace had made it. They’d brought help as promised and had come at the eleventh hour. Maybe the outer defenses were too tight. Maybe they didn’t stand a chance. But Yvonne knew Matthew would keep trying until the bitter end.

  RETIRED COMMISSIONER-General Yuuto Kagurazaka thumbed the latest report from Milena Drugova. It seemed that her contract was finally at an end. When she had been hired, it was under the suspicion that Damon Stein was an intelligence asset that would likely be deployed against Kyoto or its allies. What she had discovered was far more useful, or so they had hoped.

  He had given his blessing for her to work with Ryan Thompson, a man he had worked with on more than one occasion but had been much relieved when Cole had stepped into the picture. The new goal had been Alexander Logan via Damon Stein, and it seemed that that too had wound along to a dead end. They’d engaged Stein on three separate occasions, and the rogue agent had given them the slip each time. And now, just hours after his final slip, it seemed Stein had escaped Mars altogether. Drugova had footage from less than an hour ago of him hijacking a ship at the spaceport.

  So that was the end of the line. He would negotiate final payment with the freelancer, and that would end the operation.

  “You’re supposed to be retired.”

  He gave his wife a sly smile as he set his tablet aside. “These are troubled times, and I would be remiss not to do my part, small as it is.” And indeed it was small, though Drugova wasn’t the only foreign asset he was in contact with. His status as retired would give them a buffer between themselves and the Kyoto government. Legally anyway. He was merely a middleman and nothing more.

  “I foresee no further official communications today,” he said honestly.

  She gave him a knowing smile. “Do you know how many times I have heard that?”

  “An embarrassing number of times.” He leaned over in his chair and gave her a gentle kiss. “And I beg your pardon for each and every one that has pulled me from your side.”

  His comm buzzed and he pulled away.

  “Add one more pardon,” she laughed. “Go ahead.” She stood and walked toward the house to give him privacy. He had enough classified calls that she had long ago learned to leave before he even answered the comm. And judging from the caller, this was most certainly of that type.

  “How may I be of service to you, Mr. Speaker?”

  Saito Nakamura, Speaker of the lower house of the Diet, cleared his throat. “It’s happening. Now.”

  “Excuse me?”

>   “Our sources within the HiTO have confirmed that they’ve lost contact with the Phobos Platform. We’re hearing rumors that it shot down one of their own ships.”

  Yuuto’s breath hitched in his throat. “We had best pray that they regain control.”

  “Indeed. Until we know what has happened, we must assume that we are the intended target. But there is more, and I wanted you to be aware. Chancellor Albrecht just gave the order. Rhineland and Churchill are on the way. And when they hit, we’re going to join them.”

  The long-brewing war had come at last. They would have a short window to drive out the occupation, and in the meantime, pray that the Moon of Fear wouldn’t rain death upon them all. It was a dangerous game, but Kyoto was ready to be free after months of living under the thumb of foreign troops.

  “I appreciate the warning, old friend.”

  “Then, you will move to safety?”

  “No, but at least this way, when the explosions start, we will not be caught off guard.”

  “Be careful, please.”

  Yuuto smiled. “Yes, of course. And thank you.”

  He ended the call and stood to his feet, folding up two of the patio chairs and tucking one under each arm. His wife must have been watching from a window because she appeared a moment later, a question in her eye. “The war has come at last,” he said.

  She nodded and offered to carry one of the chairs, but he adamantly refused. Together they left the grounds of their estate and hiked the short distance up a nearby ridge. The path was well-worn, as they had taken it many times before. When they crested the hill, the Kyoto grav plate factory came into view, not ten kilometers across a shallow basin. A formation of HiTO tanks rumbled across the plain, half as far away.

  Saito would have wanted them to evacuate entirely, but what good would that be if they had no home to return to? They set the chairs under a small tree they had planted there years ago and had carefully tended in the bone-dry soil, knowing that visitors often enjoyed the view of the famous factory. Now it would give them shade from the sun as history unfolded before them.