by Mike Luoma
This is not fun. This is not where I want to be right now!
Who would want to be here? Sunk up to my knees in sewerage, recycled fluids, and God knows what else, in one of the waste transport tunnels under Reagan Station. Beautiful place, try it on your next weekend getaway...
It smells like steaming, decomposing garbage, shit, rotting tomatoes, sulfur, urine, dirty socks, disinfectant and vomit... what else do I smell? Shouldn't dwell on it. A wonderful bouquet.
I'm trying to keep remembering that it's of vital importance that I be here doing this right now. Trying to remind myself I do the Lord's work, right? Yeah right, that matters. That makes it different, makes it special. The LORD'S work! Who's Lord? Who am I kidding? They've got me, so I do this for them, for whatever reasons and excuses they make up. Sure, this is for the Lord. Whatever. God thinks I should kill and then wade through this crap, huh? God's pretty fucking twisted, then.
The shit is filling into my boots and seeping up the legs of my pants. Not only does it smell like hell it's burning my skin, too! It's a torture all its own. The Big Guy would probably say using this tunnel as an escape route is my penance. Even though I'm supposedly doing the Lord's work, I must atone for my sin. Forgive me, Lord, for assassinating the governor of the moon. But I did it for you...
It's supposed to be easy this time, a quick hit, fast exit, quick change and back into the hall before any grow wiser. It has to be flawless... the Governor is a major target for the OPO.
I got in and administered the toxin quickly and effectively. Arrived with The Cardinal for the reception, ducked out to use the bathroom after establishing my presence, stepped past the men's room to the green room where the governor was waiting.
"So sorry, ma'am, just lost, new to the place... By the way, I'm the new public relations aide to The Cardinal, Father Bernard Campion..." extend hand with small killbots on fingertips, shake her hand and exchange the killbots, send them off to do their work. "Nice to meet you, Father. The men's room is right over there. You're about the fourth person today to do that!" She laughed, seemed nice. Too bad. She had to be eliminated, for the greater good, to save lives. This is what they tell me, anyway. She's UIN, or at least a sympathizer. We can't let her give them the Moon
All the recent UIN attacks have been launched from Mars. The UIN only have a few stolen Transpace ships that are powerful enough to make the trip between Earth and Mars fast enough to be effective. If she delivers Luna to them, they can launch attacks from here. They could bring a lot more of their less powerful ships to the Moon from Mars, and use the moon as a staging base for those ships. Then when they attack us, their ships won't have to travel so far. And they'll be able to use a lot more of them against us at once.
We can't let her give them the moon.
But as the Big Guy would say, ours is not to question why. I did as I was instructed. I did the Lord's work.
After I left the governor, I went back out and into the men's room, and dropped down here through a maintenance hatch. Then it was supposed to be a quick trip down this access tunnel to the next hatch. But where's the next fucking hatch?!
It's here somewhere... right here! No, just a random access panel. It's gotta be here somewhere. It's in the plan. I'll find it. The plan. Let's see...
When I find the hatch, I'll go up and out through a maintenance closet off the main mall, near the rest rooms on the opposite end of the conference hall from where the governor was. I'll change into my spare clothes I stashed near there and head back to the conference. I'll be seen coming back from the opposite direction from where the governor was, for misdirection's sake, strike up a quick conversation or two on the way back to establish my presence. Then I walk back into the hall into the chaos that has ensued. The Plan.
Man, this sucks. I made a fast exit, all right, nearly slid under the surface of this gunk when I slipped down the access hatch out of the bathroom... I knew I'd run into something down here but this is disgusting. Glad I've got the change of clothes hidden near the other rest rooms. I knew to expect some slime but this...
The next hatch should be right about here, should lead to that closet and those other rest rooms, but I don't feel it. Damn tunnel wall's so smooth! This tunnel is carved right out of the lunar rock, marble-smooth walls, ceiling and floor, all rounded for easy slippage and falling on one's face or ass into the combined excrement of the Moon's largest settlement.
Oh joy, Oh bliss.
The glorious life of an agent of the Office of Papal Operations, BC my boy...
I can almost hear the Big Guy, the Old Man, in my head, see him in the robes of his office as he speaks words that seem somehow wrong coming from such a blessedly adorned figure:
"She must be eliminated, my son, so that many more will not die. It is God's will, you see. You, as always, Father Campion, are merely His instrument."
Instrument. Hmph. I am feeling pretty played right about now...
Light and sound break the dark silence. Alarms. Flashing white and red light. A voice saying something unintelligible.
Shit, what's that? An alarm? Wonderful. Nice light show. Something's talking, too. Amplified, but still muffled. Some kind of warning.
Great. Just great. Hallelujah everybody. Too far away to see it yet, but it sounds like an automated security bug. No human Lunar Security Cop would want to come down here.
Ugh! The smell is getting worse! I didn't think that was possible! The security robot is getting closer. It's making a sizzling noise. Must be sweeping around the tunnel with lasers, superheating the sludge whenever it fires down into it. Oh no. Oh man. I can feel the waves of warm shit flowing down past my legs through the sludge, superheated by the security bug's lasers. Heating up the shit. This just sucks.
At least the announcement is getting clearer. There's a positive, huh?
" ...non-standard behavior, including unauthorized access to these maintenance tunnels, is to be reported, investigated and resolved to the satisfaction of Lunar Security. Unauthorized access to this area is covered under the Lunar Emergency Powers Act, and is classified as highly suspicious. Extreme force is authorized, even automated extreme force, as provided under the War Codes. A General State of Emergency has been declared by the Lunar Free Colony. Any nonstandard behavior, including unauthorized access to these maintenance tunnels, is to be reported, investigated and resolved to the satisfaction of Lunar Security. Unauthorized access..."
The robot's getting closer. I can see the white strobe flashing, the red laser sweeping a webbed pattern around its perimeter. Man, I can hear the sludge bubbling and sizzling. It's definitely getting hotter. Still can't find the damn hatch!
"...highly suspicious. Extreme force is authorized, even automated extreme force, as provided under the War Codes. A General State of Emergency..."
Finally! There's the rim of the hatch. It's about chin-high.
Let's see what the sign on the hatch says... "Access 14/Lunar Reclamation System Tunnel 28-C." Ahoy, me maties, thar she blows! In the nick of time, too, damn goo is getting too hot, damn... where's the control panel? There!
Clicks. Good sound! Whirring gears inside the hatch. And another click.
The hatch swings in. BC pulls himself up through the hatch as lasers from the security bot start to reach him. A red beam slices into the bottom of his right boot before he pulls it through the hatch.
Damn!
Red and white light flashes and splays chaotically across the hatch as he shoves it closed behind him.
He's in a small space, a meter and a half square around with no visible ceiling. It's another tunnel carved right out of the lunar rock, this time leading up. There's a ladder carved into the wall in front of him.
He climbs up easily in the light lunar gravity.
There's another hatch in the wall at the top, just above the last rung of the ladder.
Locked!
He takes out a small silver cylinder. His handlaser. It glows red on the end as he fires it up. He focuses a short, intense beam
and runs it along the seam of the hatch. The seam smokes as his laser cuts through it. He works his way around the hatch door.
He braces himself, his back against the tunnel wall opposite the hatch, and kicks the hatch in.
It falls with a soft thud.
That's wrong. Clang, yes. Soft thud, no...
He looks through the hatchway. The hatch has landed on something.
On someone, actually.
It's hard to see. Dim emergency lighting in here. It's a maintenance closet. A storage area, toxicological suits in lockers, broken old cleaners piled off to one side...
And a woman lying on the floor under the fallen hatch door.
Is she all right? Is she unconscious?
Why is anyone in here anyway?
He climbs through the hatch, drops to the floor next to the woman. She's wearing a uniform.
Wonderful! A Lunar Security Cop! All right, God... How about a little help here? Could you work out a helpful coincidence for a change? I'm not looking for a miracle, just a little help here. C'mon.
I wonder if that security ‘bot sent out an alert. Shit! Why else would she be here?
He checks her pulse.
She's still alive, just knocked out. Should be fine. Looks like she took a good whomp on the head from this thing, though.
That's good. I do try to limit my killings to just one a day. Any more than that and I'd begin to think it was becoming a bad habit... hmm, bit morbid...
She's pretty... like a sleeping Latina angel... hope she stays sleeping for a while.
Damn, though, this is not in the plan. I'm leaving too big a footprint here, now. She's bound to report this, even if she never sees me. And this is taking time I don't have.
Gotta move.
He picks up the hatch and props it back up in its original position.. He puts the handlaser on a slightly lower setting and runs it back along the seam around the hatch, fusing it back into place.
The Lunar Security Cop on the floor begins to stir as he finishes. He slides past her across the room in his damaged shoes and soaked pants. She begins to move her head. BC reaches the closet exit and tries the door.
Locked!
He uses his handlaser again. The door's lock gives a good fight but loses. BC burns through and pushes the door open.
The door slides halfway open then stops.
Shit! Well, it'll have to do.
He slides through.
If I'm doing Your work, why won't You cut me any slack? Huh?
He's in a small side corridor off of the main dome of Reagan Station. He edges down the right side of the corridor toward the atrium, tries not to look suspicious covered in sewer sludge and smelling as bad as he looks. He pulls his priestly collar off and pockets it.
No need to look that suspicious.
BC leans out of the corridor to visually scan the area ahead, the edge of the central atrium for Reagan Station. Groups of tall pines tower over, stretching to the starry roof of the dome.
Like a forest in a mall. Pine needles and plastic. My bag should be just over by the trunk of that huge pine...
I don't see it from here. Good hiding job. Let's hope.
He ducks out of the corridor and into the first stand of pine trees in the atrium. He tries to nonchalantly search around for sign of his bag.
It's not here! How can it not be here? Is this the wrong group of trees? No, right trees...
He pokes around under the pines and walks into a sprinkler hidden by the needles. He feels his left ankle twist the wrong way and he starts to fall.
Ouch! Damn!
He breaks his fall and plops down onto the pine needles and grass. He sits, massages his ankle and looks around for any sign of his bag.
Looks like it was stolen. There's an indentation in the bushes under the trees where I left it. It was here. It should be right here, these are the trees... c'mon, any helpful coincidences?
Who would steal a priest's clothes?
Chapter Three
