Avengers of the Moon

by Allen Steele

  Squinting a little, Ezra made his way down the narrow aisle between the duty stations, passing senior crew members seated at luminescent consoles on either side, until he finally reached Vigilance’s commanding officer. Captain Elizabeth Jane Henniker sat in a high-backed chair overlooking the pit where the helm and navigation officers were seated before a massive, wraparound viewscreen. There were no windows in this part of the vessel; the only thing on the screen was a virtual-periscope image of the underground hangar in which the ship presently lay.

  “Thanks for the heads-up, E.J.” Ezra didn’t bother to salute even though it was officially expected. He and E.J.—not even her closest friends called her by her full name—were old acquaintances, and Ezra was very pleased when his superior, Halk Anders, managed to have the Vigilance placed at his disposal. E.J. was nearly the same age, an attractive woman in late middle-age; she’d been commanding Solar Guard cruisers for half her career, and would probably become fleet admiral one day. “What’s happening?”

  Without looking away from him, E.J. called down into the pit, “Mr. Sturdivent, throw us the view you caught just a few minutes ago.”

  The navigator tapped his fingers against his console, and a window opened in the center of the main screen: the outside surface of Port Deimos, from an angle adjacent to the docking silos reserved for small private vessels. One of the silos was open, and hovering above it was a familiar teardrop-shaped spacecraft: the Comet, apparently having just left port.

  “Son of a—” Ezra bit off the rest. He’d asked E.J. to have her crew place the Comet under round-the-clock watch, just to make sure nothing like this happened without his knowledge. “When did it take off?”

  “Not five minutes ago. I called you as soon as I found out, and Deimos Traffic notified me the second it was cleared for departure.” E.J. looked down into the pit again. “Status, Mr. Sturdivent?”

  “It’s moving away from port but still in visual range, ma’am. Distance twenty-six kilometers, on course for Mars.”

  “Dammit!” Ezra clenched his fists. “Gimme a line to it!”

  The captain swiveled about in her seat and calmly asked her communications officer to hail the Comet. A few moments passed, then the com officer reported that he’d made contact with the other ship. Ezra angrily snatched the headset the officer offered him; he didn’t put it on, but instead held it to his face.

  “Comet, this is Marshal Gurney.” He was through trying to make friends with that freak show; time to remind them who was in charge here. “Where are you going and what are your intentions?”

  Almost immediately, Simon Wright’s voice came through his headset. “Marshal Gurney, please forgive the abrupt departure. We received a signal from Curt—Captain Future—just a little while ago after losing contact with him for several hours, and we have reason to believe that he and his companions are in considerable danger.”

  At once, Ezra’s attitude changed. He might care less about this so-called Captain Future, but Joan was with him and that made matters different. “Talk to me. What did he tell you?”

  “He wasn’t able to say much. The signal I received was in Morse code—”

  “What code?”

  “A system of dots and dashes designating individual letters of the alphabet. It’s rarely used anymore, but I taught it to Curt for when an Anni node isn’t available. Apparently he has managed to piggyback his message to the carrier wave of a high-frequency radio transmitter at his location. It’s a rather cumbersome means of communication, though, so it can’t carry a lot of information.”

  The com officer caught Ezra’s eye, nodded agreement. Apparently what the Brain had said was credible enough for him to vouch for it. “All right, go on,” Ezra said. “What did his message say?”

  “He said, ‘Captured by uq at tolou now in a mons summit need comet stop.’”

  It took Ezra a moment to figure out what all that meant. He’d already known that Joan was on her way to the Ascraeus tolou in an effort to track down Ul Quorn. Apparently she and the others had been captured there by his people, and for some reason they’d been taken to the summit of the nearby volcano. “So you’re coming to the rescue?”

  “The Comet is on the way, yes. I’m going to move the ship into equatorial orbit above the Tharsis Ridge and stand by for further orders.”

  E.J. prodded her headset. “Comet, this is Vigilance actual. Do you need assistance?”

  Another pause, a little longer now. “Affirmative, Vigilance,” the Brain responded. “I recommend that you launch and bring your ship into the same orbit as the Comet. If and when Captain Future sends another signal, I’ll inform you at once.”

  “Understood, Comet. We’ll take that under advisement. Vigilance out.” E.J. clicked off and looked up at Ezra. “Your call. Do you trust ’em?”

  Ezra thought it over a moment before reluctantly nodding his head. “So far, that boy hasn’t told me anything untruthful. And as weird as he is, neither has Dr. Wright. Yeah, I think we oughta do as he says.”

  “I agree.” E.J. swiveled about in her chair until she faced forward and tapped her headset again. “Attention, all stations. Prepare for launch. Repeat, prepare for immediate launch. Combat units, stand by for action. This is not a drill.”

  III

  If anything, Corvo was even more nonplussed than Curt. “What the hell are you trying to prove?” he snarled, ignoring him for the moment as his furious glare locked on Ul Quorn. “Let me go!”

  Curling a forefinger around his chin as he gazed up at the ceiling, Ul Quorn mockingly made a show of considering his demand. “Hmmm … no. No, my father, I think not. You have much to answer for, from both our friend Señor Newton and myself. And in both cases, it has to do with our respective mothers.”

  Even though an airmask covered the lower half of his face, Curt could tell that Corvo’s expression had changed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, anger subsiding to a plea for understanding. “I loved your mother. You know that. I—”

  “Liar!”

  The rage that surged forth from the Magician of Mars caught everyone by surprise. Even the aresian guards stepped back a little, while N’Rala stared at her lover in shock and Curt found himself stunned by the vehemence of Ul Quorn’s response. Before Corvo could react, his son struck him across the face in a backhand blow that knocked his airmask askew and sent him sprawling across the floor.

  “Don’t think for a moment that I don’t know what you did to my mother!” Ul Quorn yelled as his father crawled on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. “Her death was no accident! You had her killed as soon as I was born, so you wouldn’t have the embarrassment of having the world know that you’d sired a child with a Martian whore! You did this and I know it!”

  One of the Sons who’d escorted Corvo into the tent hauled the senator to his feet and held him upright while the other one put his airmask back in place. As they did, Ul Quorn recovered some of his earlier poise. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Curt. “My father—you have no idea how much I hate calling him that—my dear father took me from my mother’s arms and brought me to the tolou you visited yesterday, where I was placed in the care of N’Rala’s family.”

  N’Rala nodded. “He told my parents that my master’s mother perished in a sandstorm,” she said to Curt, “but they suspected even then that this wasn’t true. No aresian woman would ever allow herself to be caught out in the open during a sirocco. It took many years, but eventually my people learned what had actually happened.” She gave Corvo a significant look. “One of your people talked. The Sons can be quite persuasive.”

  “He didn’t want my mother,” Ul Quorn continued, “but nonetheless he desired to have a son as heir apparent, so he reached out to me again some years ago and brought me into the criminal enterprise he’d built. By then he’d established himself as a respectable politician, and he needed someone to run the shadier side of his operations. Someone loyal who’d nonetheless keep his distance.”r />
  “I see,” Curt said. “There’s Victor Corvo, senator of the Lunar Republic and one of the most powerful men in the Coalition government … and then there’s Ul Quorn, the Magician of Mars, underworld figure and leader of the Sons of the Two Moons. And because no one knows that they’re father and son, each are able to support the other and therefore collaborate with inpunity.”

  “Correct. Very good.” The smile with which Ul Quorn rewarded him, though, lasted only a moment. “But while he believed that I was doing his bidding, what he didn’t know was that I was making plans of my own. N’Rala and her people needed a new leader, and they found it in me.”

  “A half-terran child?”

  “A half-terran child who learned a secret no one else ever had. Starry Messenger may have been crushed by the Coalition, but the desire for an independent Mars has never died. It’s always been there, like smoldering coals just waiting for something to reignite the blaze. And I found it.”

  “I helped you,” Corvo said, in a wounded tone that was both accusative and pleading. “I helped you discover this, and this is how you repay me?”

  Ul Quorn regarded him as a wise man would regard a fool. “You had no idea, did you? I think that’s the best part … you didn’t have a clue what I was up to. When you asked me to provide an assassin who’d take out President Carthew and open the way for you to take control of the Coalition government, you didn’t know that same man was instructed to shoot you as well. And then, to make sure that he’d never tell anyone who was behind the killings, I planted yet another killer in your household who would then liquidate him. He let in the assassin, then it was his job to dispose of him before he could be captured and interrogated.”

  Corvo’s mouth fell open. “You … you meant to kill me even then? How could you? You’re my—”

  “Please don’t refer to me as your son. The very thought nauseates me.” Ul Quorn turned to Curt again. “Unfortunately, you interfered with that part of my plans, which would have sent the Coalition government into disarray and thus given the Sons of the Two Moons an opportunity to stage a civil insurrection here on Mars.”

  Curt now understood what he’d seen in the lava tube beneath Ascraeus Mons: crates of guns and other weapons, smuggled to Mars and intended for an uprising. The nearby tolou was more than just a hotbed of anti-SolCol sentiment. It was the epicenter of a Martian revolution that Ul Quorn intended to lead.

  “Sorry,” he said dryly, shrugging a little. “Guess I messed up.” Then he frowned. “But what’s this you have going on outside? Why put a base camp up here, when you’ve got the tolou and lava tubes to hide in?”

  “Something insane,” Corvo muttered. “I’ve indulged him with this, but … Newton, you gotta believe me, he’s out of his mind.”

  Ul Quorn ignored his father as he strolled past both him and Curt to the tent entrance. “Please, both of you, come this way,” he said, letting one of his guards pull back the tent flap. “I have something wonderful to show you. And then, Curt Newton, I’ll let you have your gift.”

  Curt nodded and followed him to the door. And as he did, he casually put his hands in the parka’s pockets and began tapping at his ring again.

  IV

  Through the enormous underground hangar in which the Vigilance rested, men and machines hurried to prepare for liftoff.

  Until the moment Captain Henniker made her announcement, the hangar had been filled with crewmen, ground techs, and robots performing the routine tasks that awaited an interplanetary vessel whenever it made port: loading fresh food and water, conducting an inventory of other supplies and restocking what was necessary, checking the hull for metal fatigue, inspecting the engines, making minor repairs, and so forth. All this activity came to an abrupt halt when the CO came over the speakers and told everyone to prepare for immediate liftoff. Now, as ramps were being withdrawn and service carts were driven out of the hangar, crewmen and ’bots disappeared through ports and hatches, which were then closed and sealed behind them.

  Within minutes, the cruiser was ready for liftoff. While its main engines were warming up, the hangar was gradually decompressed, its air bled away until there was only hard vacuum in the vast chamber. Then, as red beacons along the rock walls silently rotated, the ceiling hatch parted at the centerline and opened outward. With a mute, fiery blast of its keel thrusters Vigilance slowly rose from its docking cradle.

  In the control room, everything was quiet efficiency. The flight officers carried out their roles with a minimum of drama, murmuring to one another through their headsets, their hands darting across their consoles. The ship’s artificial gravity generator hadn’t yet been activated, so everyone was buckled into his or her chair. In the pit, the helm and navigation officers worked as a single unit, one piloting the ship while the other plotted its course.

  Captain Henniker sat calmly in her chair, saying little as she watched the actions of her people. So intent was everyone on their respective jobs, they barely glanced at the immense screen before them, which now displayed the cratered surface of Deimos quickly falling away beneath them.

  “Rig for field gravity,” she said, and a moment later a horn blared three times, warning everyone aboard that the ship’s internal gravitational field was about to be activated. A minute later, the crew felt themselves settling into their seats as weight returned.

  From a small seat that had been folded down from the bulkhead near the command station, Ezra Gurney eyed a window that had been opened on the screen. It displayed a navigational plot depicting the respective positions of both the Vigilance and the Comet. The latter was farther away from Deimos and falling toward Mars. The smaller ship had a head start, but that would soon change; the patrol cruiser would be able to quickly catch up with the yacht and follow it wherever it was heading … presumably the summit caldera of Ascraeus Mons, the place were Curt’s signal had originated.

  At least, that’s what everyone believed was happening.

  “There’s something wrong here,” Ezra said.

  At first, he didn’t think E.J. heard him. She was focused on launch operations, making sure that Vigilance had safely left port. He must have gotten her attention, though, because she turned her head to peer at him.

  “Pardon me?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

  “This doesn’t make sense, the Comet coming to the rescue.” Ezra didn’t look away from the plotting board. “E.J.—Cap’n, I mean—I’ve been aboard that ship. It ain’t got armor and it ain’t got guns. Hell, even the sidearms are gone. Newton, Joan, and Otho took everything they had with ’em. It’s got just one hatch that they need a ladder to use when it sets down. And once it lands, it won’t be able to take off again. It’s a yacht, not a warship, meant for racing and nothing more.”

  “He’s right, ma’am.” This from Sturdivent, who had overheard the conversation from his station in the pit. “I’ve played around with racing vessels like that back home. They’re pretty fast when they’re out in space, but they’re useless for landing anywhere but the Moon or Deimos. Their engines can’t build sufficient thrust to achieve planetary escape velocity. So once that baby sets down on Mars, it’s stuck there.”

  E.J. quietly pondered what he said, her fingers absently drumming the armrests of her seat. “And you say there’s just two passengers aboard? The robot and the cyborg?”

  “A ’bot, a drone with a brain inside, and a dog. That’s it. Not exactly what I’d call a fighting force.”

  “You’re right. They’re poorly equipped for any sort of rescue mission, which is why we’re coming with them.”

  “Yes, but E.J., they didn’t ask for help. They launched without telling us, and it wasn’t until you offered assistance that they agreed to it.” Ezra jabbed a finger at the screen. “Wright ain’t stupid. He’s got something else in mind.”

  Captain Henniker was quiet for another moment, then turned to the com officer. “Hail the Comet,” she said, and once the officer told her that he’d reestablished conta
ct with the other ship, she prodded her headset. “Comet, this is Vigilance actual. Dr. Wright, would you please explain your intentions?”

  A brief delay, then the Brain’s voice came through. “Vigilance, the Comet is on its way to Ascraeus Mons, where Captain Future had indicated that he and his party have been taken prisoner by Ul Quorn.”

  “I understand that,” E.J. replied. “What I don’t understand is what you’re planning to do about this. Your ship is not equipped for either combat or rescue operations. It has no armaments or armor plating, and I’ve been reliably informed that it won’t be able to safely lift off again once it’s on the ground. So again … what are your intentions?”

  No answer.

  “Comet, this is Vigilance.” E.J. leaned forward slightly in her seat. “Please respond.”

  Silence. Then the Brain’s voice returned. “Please continue on course, Captain, and assume parking orbit above the northeast Tharsis Ridge. Have your people prepare for possible ground assault. But don’t do anything until I contact you again. Comet out.”

  “Wright!” Ezra started to rise before he remembered that he was buckled into his seat. “Wright, what in blue hell are you tryin’ to—?”

  “Captain!” Sturdivent snapped. “The Comet has disappeared!”

  “What?” E.J. and Ezra both yelled at the same time.

  “It’s not there anymore, ma’am.” He gestured helplessly at the long-range telemetry displays. “It’s vanished from radar. Same for visual contact. I can’t tell you how, but—”

  “I know. It’s gone.” Ezra sighed and shook his head, then gave E.J. an apologetic look. “Sorry, but there’s one thing I forgot to tell you.”

  V

  Ul Quorn escorted Curt toward the middle of the camp where he’d earlier caught a glimpse of ground excavations. By then, the sun had fully risen above the caldera walls; at this altitude, there was no morning haze as there was in the lowlands. Although Victor Corvo was still being led with his hands tied behind his back, no effort had been made to do the same to Curt. Were it not for the Sons walking alongside them, each with a gun trained on him, he might have been the honored guest Ul Quorn claimed him as.