Solstice 31: The Solstice 31 Saga, Books 1,2,3

by Martin Wilsey

  He was only humming now.

  She sat on the floor just beyond the bars.

  “Hello, Peanut. Did the little man in white find you?”

  “Yes. He said to tell you,” She lisped through broken teeth, “She’s here. In the Citadel. She can move about as she likes. She says she sees the wars end.”

  “Excellent.”

  ***

  “Wes, I have finished my assessment of the outpost,” Echo said to him two days later as he ate the last bite of his ration bar.

  “So what do you think?” Wes asked, sipping the last of his water from a real ceramic coffee mug in the well-lit engineering office. He was sitting behind the desk in a large comfy swivel chair that was big enough to accommodate his pressure suite.

  She was looking at the wall with the engineering map of the base.

  “The only vacuum pumps that are still working on the North and East airlocks.” She indicated them on the map. “We will be able to come and go as needed without loss of air. The passive CO2 scrubbers are working fine. The environment control systems are working so we will be warm during the 14 day darkness.”

  She turned to him, “This outpost was moth balled about 200 years ago. They did a great job. But about 50 years ago someone returned and removed all the comm gear, all the computer cores, all the disk drives, and an unknown amount of other items. All the tractors were disabled, and even the reactor core was removed. They were cool and calculating about how they disabled this station. They knew what they were doing.”

  “Any idea why?” Wes asked simply.

  “It's only speculation, but it seems they wanted to ensure this station could not be used for transmitting anything. Even the cabling conduits to the tower have been severed and removed from the site.” She pointed to the tunnel on the station end.

  “Why destroy the airlocks on the far end of the tunnel? They were so careful everywhere else.” Hagan wondered out loud.

  “They didn't.” Echo moved to the left so Wes could see the antenna end of the tunnel schematic. “Someone entered those airlock doors about a decade ago. Leaving them open and exposed to extremes simply caused the seals to deteriorate. They came all the way down the tunnel looked around and walked away without closing them behind them.”

  “I'm already working something out. I think I can create a beacon with the assets on hand.” Wes said.

  “There is one more thing, Wes.” A spider-bot eye view opened in Hagan's HUD. The point of view was from the pipes in the tunnel, looking down at the floor.

  There were clear footprints in the dust. Small, bare, feet.

  The spider followed them down the tunnel, through the three open airlock doors, and eventually it climbed the ladder to the surface near the tower leg closest to base.

  The bare footprints could just slightly be seen in the dust of the regolith. They faded as they moved off into the distance.

  CHAPTER SIX:

  The Visitor

  “When the events were described in Chief Engineer Hagan's logs we suspected a hoax. Please. Barefoot on the moon? We knew it was impossible. Until it wasn't.”

  --Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: General Patricia Chase, senior member of the Earth Defense Coalition.

  <<<>>>

  Wes woke with a start.

  He looked around the room. It was a dimly lit bedroom. A small bedside lamp was on and provided light enough for him to see the glass of water there that he clasped as he sat up. He was thirsty and his eyes itched, but he was also very hungry. He stretched and drank the water.

  He didn't think. Couldn't think.

  He casually looked about for more evidence. There was an actual book on the bedside stand, made of paper. He picked it up and it was Endless Night by Agatha Christie. There was a bookmark, but he had no memory of reading it.

  He stood and stretched again. It felt good. He noted that he was wearing a plain, black, over-sized, T-shirt and charcoal gray boxer shorts. The door to the bathroom was open, and a dim light was on in there as well. The door to the hallway was ajar, and he could hear music playing faintly from beyond. It was smoky blues, with a sorrowful trumpet and a woman singing words he could not recognize.

  A spider-bot walked in through the door from the hall. Placed on it's flat back was a steaming cup of coffee.

  From the hall, he heard Echo, “Good morning, Wes. Did you sleep well?”

  He crossed to the bathroom for a quick pee, before he started drinking coffee.

  “Yes. I slept very well. Thanks.” He replied, remembering her name was Echo. She was an AI. She controlled the spider-bots. She controlled a dozen combat drop suits. She made him coffee?

  The spider-bot waited for him and made itself as tall as possible in an attempt to hand him the coffee.

  “Echo, has anything happened? I'm... off slightly this morning.” He turned the lights on in the bathroom. It was then he saw himself in the mirror. He was taken aback.

  “All is well. We are fifteen days ahead of schedule.” Echo replied.

  His hair was long and had more gray than he remembered. He had a beard that was wild and was mostly gray. But it was his gaunt face that shocked him, his hollow eyes. He slowly pulled off the teeshirt to look at his body. His skin seemed too thin. His muscle fibers trembled, and he moved. He was far too thin. His body fat was far too low.

  “Echo, how long have I been here?” Hagan asked as he brought his face closer to the mirror. He was looking more closely at the deep set of his eyes.

  “Wes, you asked me to play this recording if you asked me that.” A display window opened in his HUD it was fixed in front of the mirror.

  It was himself.

  “Look, Wes. If you are watching this, we are probably ready to activate the warning beacon. We decided that we'd stop the rations when the work was done. I am programming this to play after you wake up. The triggers will be questions. 'How long have I been asleep?' Or 'How long have I been here?' or 'Who am I?” or 'What have you done to me?' and a bunch more.

  “The only things that will remain doing is to connect the power cables and set an activation trigger. Then we need to get the hell away from here.”

  “Echo, pause.” Hagan stared at his now frozen face in the display. “Did I really believe this would work? I know that the schedule was 186 days.” He turned, and Echo was starting there in the room with him. She met his eyes.

  “It's the drugs in the rations isn't it?” he asked, and she was already nodding. “They not only make the soldiers more efficient and clear of mind, it helps them forget. Maybe forget is the wrong word. It softens the memories.” He looked from Echo to the video display, “Continue.”

  The vid started again. “There is a chance the planet has the ability to destroy the beacon from there. I... we are willing to take that chance. But we are still going to relocate to watch. So don't give Echo any shit about continuing the rations. And stop being such a whiny bitch when you're sober. You're going to die. So what. All men die.”

  The vid stopped the display window closed.

  Wes looked at Echo and said, “Get out. I still have to take a piss.”

  ***

  Two figures in black habits approach the Citadel bridge in the darkness. They shield their eyes from the large braziers that burn high to illuminate the bridge and gate.

  They know the guards are blinded by these fires.

  They reach the bridge and are over the side without making a sound. They carried a large hook in each hand that they used to readily move along to three quarters of the way across. Ropes and webbing hidden in their habits allow them to hang there silently. One of the shadows produces a grappling hook, padded with black rags.

  With a few swings on preparation, the hook is tossed onto to nearest balcony. It was not completely silent. The guards talking paused for a moment and continued.

  The shadows waited.

  One at a time the shadows crossed the chasm on the rope. When the second one was over the rail
ing, with a quick yank and a toss the hook, rope and grapple all went into the chasm. The impact was so far below that the wind took the sound of it away.

  They entered a beautiful suite that had a few night lamps. They exited by the front door but were unable to lock it behind them. The directions were prefect after that.

  Wex welcomed Jude and Cine in with open arms.

  ***

  Wes drank his coffee and had a hot breakfast of cereal and fruit. It was unreal. He felt like he was inspecting someone else's work. Even though he remembered doing it all if was just a blur.

  He had used one of the combat drop suits for the comm gear it contained. The comms were powerful but not powerful enough. He had installed DS-01 at the base of the antenna just outside the tunnel opening. That meant all that was required was to run base power out to the suit and the signal booster already connected to the antenna. Opening the airlock at the base end of the tunnel and connecting the power for the antenna's transmission gear was all that remained to do. He could even shut down the base systems because this airlock door had a release that was also manual.

  The beacon could potentially last for a couple centuries.

  Wes spent the day performing an organized shutdown of the base. Once he put on his pressure suit he wanted to be ready to go. He purged the shop to vacuum so he could open the airlock and attach the power cables that laid ready there on each side of the tunnel door.

  The lifeboat he had christened the Sariska was prepped and all the Drop Suits were loaded and docked. All the water tanks had been topped off, and everything was ready

  Hagan waited for the status lights before he walked to the door and happened to glance out the window into the long corridor beyond that led to the antenna tunnel.

  She stood there with her nose almost touching the glass starring in.

  She blinked.

  The handle started to turn before Hagan came back to himself.

  “Echo, are you seeing this? Or have I finally lost it.” Wes said as the wheel kept moving. She had red hair and that was knotted and wild. Her skin was gray with dirt from the regolith. She wore what liked like a make-shift poncho that was once a white tarp with a head hole cut into it. It was tied at her waist with a strip of the same material.

  Just as the airlock began to swing in Echo responded, “Warning: L-Matter detected. Warning: Subject is not human. L-Matter detected. Warning: Uncatalogued Scarecrow. Very Dangerous. Warning.”

  As soon as the door was open enough she slipped into the shop. Her mouth was moving as if she was making words but there was no sound in a vacuum. She was pacing back and forth in front of the benched of tools. It looked like she was ranting, She was becoming more and more agitated. Her body was now surrounded with HUD Augment data. None made sense to him. Data about a species called Scarecrow. Even that was a translation of a language he did not recognize. She finally just sat on a shop stool and put her elbows on her knees and held her face in her hands.

  “Echo, what should I do? Close the airlock and repressurize the shop?”

  Hagan glanced toward the open airlock. DS-12 was there. Weapons were all active and trained on the woman.

  After a long moment, Echo replied, “This units original mission was to locate and retrieve the Scarecrow being held captive on the planet Baytirus. Ferris and his team were all killed in the attack when we arrived in orbit. There was no contingency plan based on this series of events. We had no indication that a Scarecrow occupied the moon.”

  “How can she be alive? The vacuum, the extreme temps, the radiation. And she is running around out there barefoot. How is that possible!”

  “She isn't made of meat.”

  “What did you say?” Wes asked, not expecting a reply as the airlock closed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  The High Keepers Garden

  “BUGs were already watching the High Keeper. But whose BUGs were they? Whay are only selected events in the narrative?”

  --Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: General Patricia Chase, senior member of the Earth Defense Coalition.

  <<<>>>

  The silence was broken by dozens of heavy feet. The Scarecrow sighed heavily. He could already smell the crackling ozone of many charged plasma rifles. Eventually, the room at the end of the cell corridor was filled with men in creaking leather. He could tell they were disciplined soldiers by their ability to become still when readied.

  He heard the huge key turn in the locked gate of spiked bars at the end of the hall. Bare feet padded in and the gate was locked again.

  He knew it was her.

  Light enough spilled on the floor that he could see her shadow as she walk to his cell. The shadows showed what she carried. He already knew. He flexed his fingers in and out of fists knowing what was coming.

  She stopped in front of his cell and dropped all that she carried, then lifting a key that was strung on a leather cord around her neck. She didn't say a word. She knew they were listening. She knew they had permission to fire for any reason they saw fit.

  Just before she slid the key in the lock, he pushed the bars forward and opened the cell. It was already unlocked.

  She stepped back as it swung out into the hall.

  He turned to face the men and slowly knelt on his knees, sitting back on his heels, and held is arms out. She lifted the six foot long metal rod and first affixed one end to his right wrist and then the other to his left. After this, he stood, and she applied manacles to his legs, attached together with a short chain.

  He leaned over then slowly so she could place a black bag over his head.

  “Stay here.” He whispered, “They won't notice you. I'll be fine. They can't hurt me.”

  She knew he was lying. But she would wait for him in the dark.

  He began to walk down the hallway in a slow shuffle allowed by the chains. He felt the six cruel loops slip over his head and two over each wrist. The loops were at the end of long poles. They unceremoniously drove him down the next corridor. His feet were barely able to keep up.

  He was dragged up flight after flight of stairs until the emerged into full daylight. He could feel it on his skin. He enjoyed it while he could because he knew what was next.

  Many hands lifted and dragged and pulled him into position above the timbers. He didn't resist as they took the metal bar away. He didn't cry out when they started to nail his arms to a great X of timbers. Six large iron nails with large heads in each of his arms. His legs were cruelly wrapped in chains.

  The whole thing was on wheels, and they dragged him from the flat, smooth, shuttle landing pad on the roof of the Citadel into the gardens and artificial meadow there.

  The High Keeper himself ripped the hood off his head.

  The Scarecrow opened his eyes slowly to look at him. The loops were still tight around his neck, holding his unsupported head back as if he might try to bite the High Keeper.

  Out of the folds of his tunic, the High Keeper produced a Telis Blade. It was an eight inches long, tail-bone spike, from a Telis Raptor. Without a word he plunged it into the Scarecrows guts and twisted it back and forth.

  Drawing it out quickly he said, “I know it hurts.”

  The High Keeper looked at his blade. There was no blood on the blade, but it ran down his belly. “It's like you are not really here.”

  Looking up at him, he saw the Scarecrow was smiling. “I have seen your death, Atish.” He whispered, “And the death of millions more.” With those words he took a deep breath and as he did all the blood from his wounds was drawn back into his body and the wounds closed. They even healed around the spikes like a pierced ear ring. Steam rose around the spikes.

  All the soldiers took a step back.

  The Scarecrows face sobered then. Atish saw in his face he knew what was coming next.

  Soldiers dragged ten young woman forward by their braids.

  “Tell me how you do it.” He stepped up and took the braid of the first girl in one hand and cut the
single button from the white dress and the entire garment spilled to the well-manicured grass of the garden. The Telis blade was to her throat.

  The Scarecrow said nothing.

  The High Keeper slashed her throat and threw her to the grass as he grabbed the next one. He cut her dress away in the same manner. She stood there naked, hands clasped at the base of her spine, tears were running down her face.

  “Did I mention that every one of these girls were born on the day you were imprisoned. I thought it would make a special treat for you. To watch all 123 of them die, knowing you could save them.” Atish raised the knife.

  “Don't be afraid child. Your mother Gail and father Jolson are waiting for you. You will be with them soon.” The Scarecrow said. She stopped crying, and she opened her eyes.

  “I will tell you, Atish.” He knew the High Keeper hated it when he used that name. But he let the girl fall to the grass still living. The Scarecrows whisper drew him closer, “All men die because they are made... of meat.”

  The Scarecrow ripped his right arm free. Some nails came away from the wood, others remained and tore massive wounds in his flesh. Before his backhand swing could impale the spike, still in his right hand, into the High Keepers skull, four men opened fire with plasma rifles. Three struck the Scarecrows body, and one was directly on the face.

  The body was on fire. No one moved the douse the flames. The timber frame eventually collapsed as it burned. The now naked, charred remains lay on the ground with the huge spikes still protruding.

  “Take him back to his cell before he wakes up and kills you all.” The High Keeper said.

  “My Lord?” the commander of the guard asked.

  “JUST. Do. It. you fool...” Atish trailed off as the charred corpse moaned and moved.

  “That has got to hurt.” The High Keeper said smiling as he walked away.