The Forgotten Outpost

by Gus Flory

  “You made it,” she said in his ear. “I didn’t think you would.”

  “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

  She danced with him, looking up at him. Her smile had an enchanting allure that sent electric sparks up his spine.

  “They throw these underground parties every now and then,” she said into his ear. “It gives us a safe place to have fun without bullying, without authorities watching.”

  “Everyone’s watching us.”

  She closed her eyes and held his hands as she danced. Lightning flashed around them. Bodies swayed with the music.

  Diego couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She smiled.

  “They’re watching you because they know you’re a soldier. But it’s OK. I invited you.”

  “They’re watching you.”

  She closed her eyes and moved with the music.

  “Why did you invite me?”

  She looked up at him with her blue eyes, holding her gaze.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  She pulled him through the crowd by the hand.

  She led him into a hallway and then up a stairwell to a locked door. She punched a code into a panel and pushed open the door. They walked through an alley and out onto the Pioneer District’s main thoroughfare. People sat at tables in front of hole-in-the-wall restaurants and bars that lined both sides of the streets. The names of the establishments glowed in multicolored lights.

  Diego followed Pristina into a restaurant. The sign above the door read, “Mr. Chiba’s.” The restaurant was nothing more than a dimly lit hallway lined with booths. Couples sat in candlelight in the intimate booths.

  Pristina slid into a booth. Diego sat across from her.

  She scrolled through a screen set in the table and ordered a lemon drop.

  She looked up at him. “I invited you to explain myself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In the plaza. Our conversation. I don’t want to leave you with that as your last impression.”

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About Einstein. All I’ve known about him was that he was a genius. But you’re right. I don’t understand his theories. Not many people do. We just believe he was a genius because that’s what we’ve always been told.”

  “Maybe you’re more open-minded than the soldiers I’ve known. What are you drinking?”

  “I’ll have a coffee. Black.”

  She looked up at him. “Are you working, Diego?”

  “I’ve never been much of a drinker.”

  “You know, a lot of people were nervous about you being at our little meet-up tonight. It’s not a good time for the Noer. The government has been arresting us, confiscating our devices, infiltrating our gatherings.”

  “You’re a Noer.”

  “Yes, that’s why Oscar hired me. I know the community, their key leaders, their politics.”

  “Their Neo-Fascist element.”

  “Diego, there is no Neo-Fascist element in the Noer community.”

  “That’s not what they think at T-FORCE MAIN. Or on Camp Hammersteel. Or the Forward Command Post.”

  “What do you think, Diego?”

  “I’m new here. I only know what they tell me.”

  “Let me tell you something. Whoever is responsible for the Einstein Plaza Attack did the Noer great harm. The attack gave the government and T-FORCE the excuse to round up our leaders, search our homes and break up our organizations. Tupo Pelagi is in hiding now. Her husband is dead. Her son is missing. If the attack never happened, she might have gone on to win the election.”

  “Her husband was one of the Einstein Plaza terrorists.”

  Pristina was silent for a long moment.

  “Hi, Pris,” the waiter said, delivering their drinks.

  “Hi, Ronald,” she said. “Good to see you.”

  “It’s been a while. You look gorgeous, as always. Who’s your handsome friend?”

  “This is Major Zanger. A T-FORCE information operations officer.”

  “Oh.” The waiter’s demeanor changed from friendly to cold and formal. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  The waiter looked at Pristina with quizzical concern, then turned and walked away.

  She sipped her drink and studied him.

  “I knew Kyle Pelagi. And Kona. The Pelagis are from Simon’s Bay where I grew up. Kona goes to the same school I went to. Kyle and Tupo would often come for dinner at our habitation. They were close to my parents.”

  “Did you stay in touch with Kyle?”

  “Yes. I spoke with him and Tupo only two days before the massacre.”

  “Go on.”

  “He was a good man, Diego. During the war, he was a pacifist. He tried to talk my father out of fighting the S.S.F. Army. He knew it was a lost cause. My father didn’t listen and was killed. So were my older brother and sister. After the war, he and Tupo were two of the leading reconciliationists. They wanted peace. Rapprochement. They wanted to work with the Federation to reconstruct our communities.”

  “Pristina, Kyle Pelagi was found in black armor carrying a K4 rifle.”

  “I knew Kyle. He could never have done such a thing. I swear to you, Diego.”

  Anger smoldered inside him thinking about this man she was trying to absolve of his crimes. He struggled to maintain his cool, to stay on mission. He was unsure of her game.

  “I saw you in the hallway struggling with one of the terrorists. He shot Oscar Bennett. Was that Kyle?”

  “No.”

  “He came for you both. Who was he?”

  “I don’t know. His visor was down. He never spoke. Believe me, Diego. It wasn’t Kyle.”

  Diego was silent. He spun his coffee cup around on the table. He inhaled and looked into her blue eyes.

  “I believe you,” he said. He looked away.

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  She checked her handheld, reading through messages.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” he said. “What was it like to grow up here?”

  She looked up at him, narrowed her eyes, and sipped her drink.

  “My mother and father were with the first settlers to arrive on Titan. They had been living on Ganymede, barely surviving, when Vladimir Noer recruited them. There was nothing but cold and desolation when they landed here—just a frozen, hostile moon beyond humanity’s farthest reach. But they knew Titan was special, almost a new Earth, with an atmosphere, seas, the most beautiful vistas in all the Solar System. Their first years were hard. They were so far away from the Inner Solar System, from human civilization. From resupply. But Titan, Saturn and its moons were generous with their resources. Water, iron, nitrogen, hydrocarbons. Some of those first pioneers didn’t survive. But more arrived. They were self-reliant. Resilient. I was born that first year in a flimsy habitation barely able to keep out Titan’s cold and tholin dust. By the fifth year, the colonies began to prosper. We were free here, able to grow and build what we needed. It was a wonderful place to be a child. The spirit of community, liberty and optimism were alive in all of us. We all knew each other. We relied on each other and trusted one another out here so far away from Earth. But then the Federation arrived. They declared our monetary system illegal. They taxed us, confiscated our property, told us we were illegal squatters. Their corporations came and took away our means of making a living. We were forced to work for them and supply them to earn their money to purchase from them life’s necessities. They forced us into debt in order to use their money. They made new laws for us to follow. They flooded Titan with new immigrants. We saw the writing on the wall. We were to be a minority on the moon we had settled and colonized. Our liberties and prosperity were gone. Many in the Noer community grew bitter. They grew angry. We were prosperous and free before the Federation came. With the Federation came poverty and burdensome taxes, debt and laws that stole our liberty and the prosperity we were accustomed to.”

  “We all pay taxes, Pris
tina. It’s the cost of living in a civilized society. And the rule of law guarantees our liberty and protects us from crime and anarchy.”

  “Diego, don’t you see? The Noer were better off before the Federation. We were happy and free.”

  “Did you think you could keep Titan all for yourselves? Keep others out?”

  “They appointed a governor to rule over us. He accused us of harboring Neo-Fascists. His raids on our colonies, his confiscations and punitive taxation became intolerable. Back then, the Noer were still the majority. We held a tax revolt. Issued our own currency again. That’s when the governor turned the Army on us. He attacked our colonies. We attempted to defend ourselves.”

  “Terrible crimes were committed, Pristina. Unspeakable crimes. We saw the same on Mars. And then on Ganymede and Callisto.”

  “Genocide. That’s what you’re implying, right?”

  “Yes. So many were needlessly killed. Cruelly killed.”

  “People die in war.”

  “But you don’t intentionally target civilians. You don’t torture and murder them.”

  “I agree with you. The Federation shouldn’t have illegally bombed us. They shouldn’t have tortured our leaders.”

  “Maybe your people have legitimate grievances, but what the Noer did was not the way to address them.”

  “The Noer have been accused of genocide and war crimes, but as an information operations officer, you know this is just propaganda to demoralize and dehumanize us.”

  “What are you saying, Pristina?”

  “History is written by the victors. Your side wrote the history. Our side is never heard.”

  “Your side? The Noer sided with Neo-Fascist terrorists. Tens of thousands of innocent people were killed in deliberate acts of genocide. In Huygenstown, the Noer slaughtered the entire Imcel population—35,000 people. They systematically killed women and children, even babies. Tortured them. They recorded their crimes in propaganda videos.”

  “Diego, your side killed more of my people than we killed of you. By several orders of magnitude. More Noer were killed at Huygenstown than Imcels. We were bombed out of our homes. Chased down and shot like animals. Burned alive. Detained never to be heard from again. Tortured. I knew so many who were killed. Good people. Friends. Family. Now Federation gunships orbit Titan. We’re not allowed to leave if we want to. We’re prisoners on the moon we settled. What the Federation did to us was immoral and wrong. Unforgiveable.”

  “Are you saying we’re the bad guys?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “We didn’t attack you, you attacked us. We’re not occupying you. You’re occupying us.”

  She took a long sip of her drink then looked away in the dim light. She checked her handheld.

  “I better go,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. Stay longer. I’m a soldier. I’ve been trained to see things from a certain perspective. But I want to maintain an open mind. Tell me more, Pristina.”

  She tapped the screen embedded in the table and paid the bill.

  “Maybe some other time.”

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  They walked in silence down the narrow corridors. Most of the establishments were closed but a few remained open for the night owls.

  “I’m sorry you lost your father, brother and sister. War is a terrible thing.”

  She said nothing as she walked beside him.

  “I lost my mother and father on Mars. They were killed in a terrorist bombing while I was on the front on Hesperia Planum.”

  She looked up at him, studying his face as she walked, then looked forward again.

  “Tell me about your wife.”

  “We’re separated.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Havana.”

  “Maybe she wouldn’t be happy if she knew you met a strange woman at a party and had drinks with her.”

  “I’ve been away so long. The Army has come between us.”

  Pristina stopped walking.

  “I’m fine from here, Diego. Good night.”

  “It’s OK. I can walk you home.”

  She looked down a dark alley. “Sonny, no need to hide. You can come out here.”

  A young man stepped out from the alley. He was blonde and muscular, the same man who had been eyeing Diego at the warehouse.

  “This is my younger brother, Sonny Sage. Sonny, this is Major Diego Zanger.”

  Sonny reluctantly offered his hand. Diego shook it firmly.

  “Never heard of her, huh?”

  The young man looked away.

  “He’ll take me from here.”

  “You’ve treated me three times now. Next time is on me.”

  Pristina and her brother walked away down the corridor. Diego walked in the opposite direction, alone through the empty corridors of the Pioneer District.

  Diego lifted his handheld. “You guys following them?”

  “Roger, sir. We’ve got a two-man team providing overwatch for you. The rest of us are following the targets.”

  “Copy.”

  Diego stepped off the subway car at the T-FORCE MAIN Station. He entered the main gate and walked into the base.

  Helms was waiting for him. He smelled of booze and perfume.

  “What were you thinking, man? Your job is to make her think she’s seducing you, not arguing with her. Freaking amateur hour, man.”

  “You tell me how she was hired to work on Camp Hammersteel. That woman is a walking red flag.”

  “Oscar Bennett hired her as a Noer subject-matter expert. She was screened. She passed.”

  They entered the SSIS building and rode the elevator up to a secure conference room.

  “Your date tonight with Miss Sage was tracked by quite a few people in the intelligence establishment,” Helms said. “We’re going to do a hotwash. Evaluate your performance. SSIS on Mars and Earth have been following the mission. Back on Earth, they’re probably just now watching you wrap up with her. Quite the little drama.”

  Helms opened the conference room door and Diego followed him inside. Col. Butcher and Maj. Mangal were seated at a long horseshoe table, as were several SSIS intelligence analysts and the SSIS Chief of Operations on Titan, a man named Horace Fontaigne.

  “Have a seat, Diego,” Fontaigne said from the front of the room.

  Diego sat. He nodded at Butcher who nodded back.

  “Your meeting tonight with Ms. Sage has provided a wealth of intel,” Fontaigne said. “We’ve identified several personalities who we believe are members of a Neo-Fascist terror cell, and a few who possibly perpetrated the Einstein Plaza Attack.”

  “Who?” Diego asked.

  “Sonny Sage.”

  A picture of Sonny Sage standing in the crowd at the warehouse appeared on the screen behind Fontaigne.

  “Damien Coates. Aiden Popov.”

  “Can I give my assessment?”

  “Yes, Major. Go ahead.”

  “I got a good look at these guys, especially Sonny Sage. They’re novices, backwater colonists. The shooters at Einstein Plaza were military trained.”

  “The SSIS has good reason to believe these three were part of the Einstein Plaza terror cell,” Mangal said. “They’re not basing their assessment on gut feelings.”

  “Hold your comments, Diego,” Butcher said.

  Fontaigne fast-forwarded the surveillance video of Diego and Pristina at the warehouse, then of them leaving, then arriving at the restaurant. He played their conversation at normal speed.

  “This is good. You’re making a connection with her. You’re opening up to her, drawing her out. But you’re too defensive.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him, Horace.”

  “She’s not trying to seduce me,” Diego said.

  “What do you mean?” Fontaigne asked.

  “She’s not leading me on or pumping me for information.”

  “That’s because you’re driving her away,” Mangal said.

  “If she were a ho
neypot, that wouldn’t be an issue. She’d be coming on to me.”

  “What are you saying, Major?” Fontaigne asked.

  “I don’t know. You’re the spy. You tell me.”

  “She’s losing interest in him,” Butcher said. “Probably thinks she hooked the wrong fish. I’m guessing she’s going underground. We better roll her up before we lose her.”

  “No, Colonel. Not yet,” Fontaigne said. “She called Diego to their party for a reason. She’s testing him. Seeing if he has sympathies for their side. Seeing if we make any moves on them. We need to give her something. What she wants. Information.”

  “Right,” Helms said. “We need to win her trust. The A.P.T. meeting.”

  “We know the Alternative Party for Titan will be holding a secret meeting in three days. Tupo Pelagi is supposed to make an appearance. Diego, you will warn Ms. Sage that T-FORCE is going to raid the meeting with the intent of capturing Pelagi. Tell her you attended the mission planning working group and know the time and location of their meeting. That should convince her you’re giving her important information, the kind of information they can act on.”

  “We’ll lose Pelagi,” Butcher said.

  “This time,” Fontaigne said. “But if Major Zanger can gain Pristina Sage’s trust, she might lead us to bigger fish—to Robodan.”

  “I think Diego is right about one thing,” Mangal said. “She’s not acting like a typical honeypot. It’s as if she’s seeking sympathy for her cause from him. Maybe trying to determine if she can get him to see things from her point of view. Turn him.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Fontaigne said. “Try to gain her trust, Major. Sympathize with her and see how far in she’ll take you. Make her believe she’s turning you.”

  Mangal looked up from his handheld. “The Special Ops team. They lost her. Pristina Sage and her brother gave them the slip.”

  Helms banged his fist on the table. “How is that even possible?”

  “If we can get Major Zanger inside,” Fontaigne said, “maybe he can give us the answer.”

  The following morning, Diego reported to work and spent most of the workday locked in a Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility with Helms and several intelligence analysts. They sat in the dark room looking into glowing screens as encrypted messages came in from S.S.F. Army Intelligence Headquarters on Mars and SSIS Headquarters on Earth.