by Matt Roberts
As they approached one of the towers Owyn maintained a distance of a few steps, keeping a firm hold of his trigger. Just short of it Ambrose stopped. He used his feet to brush aside the sand around him and reveal a large metal hatch dug into the rock. “May I?” he asked.
Owyn nodded to allow him to remove his hands from his head, taking another step back just in case. Ambrose then leaned down and lifted the hatch, revealing a brightly lit staircase descending underground. He put his hands back behind his head and led the way down. Hesitantly Owyn followed.
They didn’t descend far before the floor flattened out into a long, narrow corridor. Everything – the walls, floor and stairs – was covered with a plastic skin of smooth, crisp white, although tarnished slightly by a thin layer of grey dust that had settled onto it. Bright white lights were spaced equally along the ceiling and there was a solitary door at the far end. Aside from that the corridor was completely empty. There were no doors to either side, no windows through to another room and nothing at all to clutter the panelled floor.
This corridor alone was even more chilling than the rest of the place. There was nothing to spark the senses; nothing to dispel the feeling of emptiness. It felt like the walk at the end of death row, as the walls closed in and the guilty were left with nothing but their thoughts for company – or the final walk before the gates of heaven, where the judged were left to recount their life and actions before facing their final judgement. In some sense, whatever was beyond that door was the point of no return.
They stopped in front of the door. Again Ambrose requested permission and Owyn granted it. He reached down and activated the switch. After a few anxious seconds the door lifted to reveal its secrets.
Instead of a single, straight corridor, the way ahead was populated with numerous perpendicular corridors, both left and right at equal intervals. The same pattern continued down each one of those corridors, creating a crisscross of wide halls surrounding huge square pillars in between. Another set of stairs dropped the floor a little lower and everything was much wider and more open than before. Even before stepping through Owyn felt the temperature drop and he quickly found himself shivering.
Ambrose descended the steps and approached the nearest of the pillars. He stood beside one of three small round windows that lined each of its sides. “There are your answers,” he said, before standing aside. Owyn suffered a brief second of hesitance, but quickly succumbed to the urge. He lowered his gun, approached the window and peered through.
Inside was a vertical metal cylinder with a narrow glass strip down the nearest side to give a view within. Through it, the bubbling blue liquid that filled the tube could be seen, writhing and shifting like something alive. Below, the tube extended deep down into a black hole, until even the burning blue light it emitted had been swallowed by the darkness. Every few seconds the liquid pulsed as something within the tube thrust it downwards into the void.
The cylinder, of course, was one of the towers from above the surface. They really were like needles, driven deep into the flesh of Altaris.
“All of these towers are filled with that stuff?” Owyn asked. Ambrose nodded. “Why? What the hell is it?”
“It’s called Vitirium, and it’s here because it’s what’s keeping Altaris alive.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Owyn snapped back.
“Novus, Altaris’ sun, is much colder than Earth’s sun. The distance between Novus and Altaris is also much further than the distance between Sol and Earth. In its natural state Altaris couldn’t possibly support life of any kind. It would be nothing more than a frozen wasteland.”
“So what? This stuff heats it up? How?”
“In a way. These towers inject Vitirium into the planet’s core. It reacts and melts the solid metals beneath the crust to provide enough heat to the surface for us to survive,” Ambrose explained. “Novus still provides some UV radiation but the contrast in temperature between day and night isn’t close to what it should be. It’s also why Altaris also lacks true seasons; for instance snow and ice can only be found at high altitude, never anywhere else and never varying throughout the planet’s orbit.”
“But why? How? It doesn’t make any sense. Altaris was supposed to be just like Earth when NASA found it.”
Ambrose shook his head. “NASA didn’t find Altaris. XION did. NASA died long before the civil war even began; the US just kept it quiet enough for the public to think they were still operating. They couldn’t allow the American people to know that they were losing control of their own country or else they risked losing their faith completely. In truth XION practically controlled the US by the time you left.
Once the state of Earth became unsustainable, the military needed to appear as though they were leading the way in the search for a new home. They couldn’t possibly hope to fund something on that scale on their own but XION had already been planning their project for years. Once they had access to the entire US population they were set to go. How else do you think those ships materialised out of thin air?”
“Are you saying XION control Altaris as well?”
“Completely, yes. They had invested too much time and too many resources into Altaris to ever allow anyone else to take control of it. Still, even given the time they devoted to the idea it was unlikely they’d ever find a suitable planet within a realistic distance, so instead they devised an alternate solution – make a suitable planet. That’s what the symbol on that pendant is. It represents XION’s Altaris Project – the creation of humanity’s new home. This site is where XION first landed and gave life to this planet. This is Eden.”
While Ambrose had been speaking Owyn had begun pacing back and forth along the corridor, trying to process what he was hearing – trying to decide how much of it he could believe. “How exactly do you know all this?” he questioned. “How am I supposed to believe any of it?”
Ambrose quickly dismissed his concerns. “Why does it matter? You came for answers didn’t you? Here they are.”
“It matters,” Owyn stated bluntly. In reality he didn’t have much doubt he was being told the truth but he also knew Ambrose was holding something back – he had to be – so he was determined to dig out as much as he possibly could.
Ambrose held his ground. “No, it doesn’t, because you’ll believe me anyway. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Owyn raised his voice, letting his calm front drop slightly. “Do you really think after all the shit you’ve pulled I’ll just blindly believe whatever you say? You manipulated us for God knows how long then fucked off and had Miller finish the job for you. I can’t imagine what you had to do to get him to listen to your bullshit.”
“I didn’t have to do anything. Captain Miller was volatile; you know that as well as anyone. It was only a matter of time before he went too far. Three years ago he and his team raided settlement in Mississippi, slaughtering two hundred innocent people because he suspected a connection to one of the rebel leaders. There wasn’t one, and the whole thing went public. XION were forced to act, sentencing him to a lifetime of hard labour in the Middle East. I offered him a way out. He would rather fight and die a quick death than rot in the mines so he agreed to do what I asked of him.”
“And what was that; to get into my head and keep me quiet so it’d be easier for you to get me to do what you wanted?”
“Miller’s job, beyond filling my shoes, was to make sure you were ready to take charge of ISO when I needed you to. He succeeded in that.” Ambrose put his hands on his hips and looked Owyn straight in the eye. “If you think so badly of me then why are you here? I didn’t force you to come.”
Now it was Owyn’s turn to shake his head. “No, you did. You left me without a choice and you know it. I’m here because I want to know what you’ve been hiding from us and I want to know why.”
“I haven’t been hiding anything from you.”
“I don’t care what your orders were,” Owyn interrupted before he could attempt to shi
rk responsibility. “I don’t care what the DPD or XION or whoever told you not to tell us. You’ve been defying their orders and using us as a weapon against them while keeping us in the dark and yourself out of the crossfire. Why? Why not tell us the truth about Installation 3, about Rodriguez, about this place and everything else? If you’re doing this with proper reason then we’d have backed you, but instead you decided to lead us blindly to the slaughter. How can you justify that?”
Ambrose adopted a stern expression. “Would you have taken Rodriguez if you’d known who he was – if you’d known the consequences? Of course not. Keeping you in the dark was necessary,” he asserted.
“Necessary?” Owyn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We’ve already lost Shaw and Tucker and we’re going to lose others, if not everyone. We’ve got the entire fucking DPD hunting us to the death. How is that necessary?”
“I didn’t intend for any of you to die, but otherwise the mission ended exactly as intended. You weren’t ever there for information; you were there to start a war. Colonel Bauer saw you take Rodriguez and so was forced to try to terminate ISO. Now you’ll fight the DPD and you’ll win.”
Owyn couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You really have lost your mind. Our numbers are nothing compared to theirs. We can’t win.”
“That’s exactly why it was necessary – it seems hopeless. I could easily have led you here and told you everything, yes, but what reason would you have had to act on what I said? I assembled ISO from people who all had a will to fight and survive despite seemingly having nothing left to fight for. There’s no man left alive who would fight a losing battle simply because it’s the right thing to do, not even you, but there are some who will do whatever they can to survive. Those are the people I chose to form ISO, and that’s why you will fight this war.”
“The right thing?” Owyn shrugged. “What exactly are we supposed to be fighting for? What’s so important that you’ve gone to all these lengths to start a war?”
“The very same thing that drove Rodriguez to free you and allow you to pursue me here – the truth about Altaris.”
“How can that possibly be worth all this?”
“The entire Tajari desert was designed specifically to hide this place. Those are the lengths XION has gone to in order to keep their secrets. Javier Rodriguez died simply because he wanted people to know the truth. He hardly told you anything yet still ended up with a bullet in his brain. Isn’t that enough to show you how important this is?”
Owyn gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to give in, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d seen how desperate Rodriguez had been to tell them what he knew yet felt helpless to do so. There was no way he could leave here without hearing it, whatever his feelings. “Okay. Alright. Tell me.”
Ambrose nodded, keeping a straight face. He turned away from Owyn, himself now gazing through the window at the column full of Vitirium. “This planet isn’t really humanity’s new home. It was never intended to be. It’s an experiment – a trial run – whichever you want to see it as. Once XION had come to the conclusion they needed to create a hospitable planet they identified two near identical candidates, each within three years of travel from Earth – that being a viable distance of around 25 light-years. Both were frozen wastelands with atmospheres full of toxic carbon dioxide but they each had enough water and oxygen to potentially become hospitable.
In theory, XION’s scientists knew that all they needed to do to make either planet able to support life was to heat the core, then they could import healthy plants from their storage facilities on Earth and correct the oxygen and carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere. Their problem was that none of that could be reliably tested on Earth; neither could their plans for cities or for how they were going to govern the planet. They could synthesise a prototype form of Vitirium, but they wouldn’t know if it could serve its purpose without putting it to use.”
“So they chose one of the two planets to be a test of whether it could work?” Owyn was beginning to put the pieces together in his head. Somehow, in spite of how ridiculous it all sounded, it made sense. “That’s what this is? The test?”
“Exactly. The ‘real’ Altaris is yet to be populated and is the best part of 40 light-years from here.”
“Surely the costs of going through the whole process twice would be too much even for XION.”
Ambrose turned back to face Owyn. “You’re underestimating the kinds of resources XION possesses. By taking the USA they became the most powerful entity on Earth, with more wealth and influence than any nation or empire in history could ever match. You’re also forgetting that they control this entire planet. Despite it only being a test it can still be used to produce the raw materials for a second attempt to be easily affordable. They also control the economy meaning they have all of the manpower they could ever need to work on their project. Already they’ve produced a working blueprint for their cities – Kyvos – and harvested all the materials needed to build fifty like it.”
Owyn still felt as though he was missing something. “Even if all of this is true why does it need covering up? So what if this planet is an experiment? People are living happily here and why wouldn’t they be able to move to the new Altaris eventually?”
“It needs to be covered up because an experiment of this magnitude comes with huge risks.” Ambrose paused momentarily. “Vitirium is highly unstable. You saw the destruction it can cause first hand. XION have been refining the formula for decades but they still haven’t perfected it. Installation 3 was one of a few dozen sites working to produce a stable form, as they have been ever since this initial test was successful. Rodriguez’ site wasn’t making much progress but others are.
The more serious issue is that the Vitirium that fills these towers is still the same mixture they brought from Earth in 2030, nearly twenty years ago. There’s already an enormous quantity in the planet’s core that can’t be removed or replaced, and it’s been degrading the entire time it’s been there. XION estimate between two and three years before its structure breaks down and it ignites, causing the core to be ripped apart and the planet to collapse. That’s why no new cities were built after Kyvos was completed and why no ships have arrived for over a year. It’s also why they’re in such a hurry to produce a stable form of Vitirium. This planet is running out of time.”
Owyn’s heart sank. What Rodriguez had said now made perfect sense – this world was going to burn, whatever happened.
“More than 6 million people live across the fifteen cities of Altaris, none of which can be moved until the new planet is hospitable,” Ambrose continued. “It took a decade of work to get to that stage here, and it’s unlikely XION will be able to start on the second world for at least another year. Everyone could be returned to Earth, yes, but that would raise awkward questions, and considering the time it’s taken to build that population even that would be difficult to manage in time. Besides, if the public found out that this had been kept from them there’d be chaos.
The easier option is to keep it quiet, extracting only those at the top of the DPD and a few other useful personnel when the situation becomes critical. That means 6 million people are living on top of a time bomb they won’t know exists until it goes off. XION knew before bringing anyone here that they were against the clock, but they deemed these people to be acceptable losses. No one who came here had connections with anyone who stayed behind, meaning no one will realise they’re missing when populating the second Altaris. It’s all meticulously planned so that no one will ever know what happened here.”
Owyn stood in silence. He didn’t know what to make of it all; his head was spinning.
“What was our purpose in all of this?” he asked, although suspecting he already knew the answer. “Why did XION need ISO?”
“To make sure nobody on the surface finds out they’re doomed to die. To protect their secret so they can keep control of the people. As you’ve probably guessed ISO was intended to be far l
arger than it is but once XION discovered their time was going to be cut short they decided they could cut back without significant risk.”
Owyn nodded solemnly, using all of his strength to hold back the urge to lash out. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. It was just as O’Brien had said; he just needed to be told he was on the right side and he’d do whatever was asked of him without question. Sure, he’d had occasional doubts about what they did, but he’d never imagined this.
“That’s why they kept us so far isolated from everything,” he said. “So we’d never find out what we’re protecting.”
“More or less, yes,” Ambrose confirmed. “When I was appointed head of ISO I demanded independence from the DPD so that we wouldn’t be constantly monitored. The compromise was for ISO to be kept in a confined, isolated location where they would be at the least risk of exposure to controlled information and could easily be terminated should it be necessary. That wasn’t how they put it, but I always assumed they’d keep a failsafe. An organisation like ours was far too dangerous to allow to operate independently without have a kill switch.”
“A kill switch? If that was the case wouldn’t we all be dead already?”
“Colonel Bauer had a hidden device connected to our IC, giving him the ability to remotely disable all of the station’s systems, meaning no oxygen and no means of escape. That’s why I had Sullivan check the IC when we first arrived on the station. He identified the device, which I disconnected while you were in Kyvos earlier today. Had I tampered with it any earlier Bauer would have realised we knew about it, so I assured Sullivan it was the communications channel the DPD used to relay mission data to us.”
Owyn chuckled. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to find humour in anything, but there was still one question that Ambrose hadn’t managed to answer. “How the hell did you get XION to think they could trust you?”
