by Jeff Taylor
The overhead lights dimmed considerably until the room was almost dark. Just above the dining table a pair of wide, frosted-glass panels, molded in the shape of an ocean wave, lowered from the ceiling and stretched along the length of the table. Gradually the panels came to life emitting a soft, phosphorescent light. When the intensity of the light reached its peak, a series of three-dimensional images emerged of the two Selene stations and their interiors.
Ahkman recognized the Old Town and New Town buildings, the livestock pasture, and the greenhouses that ran behind a dramatic narrative voiced by a man with a soothing tenor describing the wonders of the lunar stations. Was this the video to be shown to the tourists? Ahkman wondered. It was very well done and must have cost a considerable sum to produce, but Ahkman wasn’t sure why they were viewing it now or why Vim had been so reluctant to show it to the group.
When the narration was over, their host cleared his throat and circled the table as he spoke, the scenic portions of the film playing in a loop.
“Ladies and gentlemen, for some time mankind has considered space to be an untamed frontier; hostile, cold, deadly. Yet, what you’ve seen here is a vibrant, flourishing world, far from the warm embrace of our Mother Earth. No accomplishment in human history can compare with the triumph that is the Selene Experiment. Not only have we sustained life but we have created the conditions for it to thrive and expand. Not only have we tamed this barren wasteland but we have conquered it, made it our own. Harnessing breakthroughs in technology and life sciences, we will be the springboard for humanity’s leap into the void of space and make settlement on other worlds possible. By the end of this decade, which mind you is already half over, we will have the capacity to support a combined population of nearly nine hundred thousand between this station and Selene I, and almost twice that number on the Martian facility within ten years after that.”
The group murmured in astonishment. “How is that possible?” Josephina mumbled to her companion. Ahkman merely shook his head, craning his neck to hear more.
“It is quite possible,” Vim continued. “Our mining operation has accelerated significantly with the addition of the androids developed by Mr. Con, creating the space we need for expansion. They are stronger, larger, and have more endurance than any human being who ever lived. In fact, they have been so successful that we have even had to scale back excavation to a small degree so that we could keep up. They truly are a marvel, Mr. Con.”
Con merely nodded, his shinny helmet now back in place.
The door to the dining room opened once more and one of the Kratins’ bodyguards (Strinnger was it?) passively entered. The man walked to where the other guards stood with their backs to the large pane of glass covering the back wall, and stood at attention. Out of the corner of his eye Ahkman saw Julia Kratin shoot the guard a venomous glare, which he refused to acknowledge, making a great effort not to look back at her.
“Curious,” Ahkman mumbled to himself. But as interesting as the pair’s interaction was, he needed to concentrate on the matter at hand. Vim was finishing his speech and Ahkman was leery of what the man was up to.
“Nearly a million people could be living, breathing, producing in and above the lunar surface. At that stage, we will have surpassed merely being a science experiment. We will be participants in a social experiment, ready to make our own rules, establish administrative agencies, governing ourselves and existing autonomously, free from the assistance of any Earth-bound entity.”
Comprehension dawned on Ahkman like a nuclear blast. His polished silver fork clanged onto his dessert plate drawing the attention of everyone at the table. Vim continued unabated, only confirming Ahkman’s suspicion.
“When we reach that level of civilization we will need to be untethered from the uncertainties of a company passed around like so much bad hash. We will need to be free to reach our potential, free to explore new ideas. We will need to be a free nation.”
As he spoke, the music playing on the film reached a dramatic crescendo. The faces of hundreds of unidentified men and women with broad grins, living and working on both stations scrolled before the group’s eyes. After the final note played, the lights brightened once more and the presentation ended. Vim remained silent, as did everyone else.
Nathaniel spoke in a pensive, yet firm tone. “So what exactly are you asking of us?”
The host did not hesitate in his reply. “We wish to cut the umbilical from Carsus Corp and become the lunar nation of Selene, or Carsus, there is still some debate about the name. Our relationship with the company as far as supplies and transportation would of course need to continue, but we would be free to determine our own fate.”
The senior Kratin did not respond, but stared blankly at the empty dishes before him.
Stunned by his silence, Ahkman made his opinion known. “Absolutely not!” he bellowed. The golden goose had just been dropped in his lap and there was no way he was going to let it fly away now.
Across the table, Dantral Brahlim raised his hand to reassure Ahkman and turned to Vim. “Mr. Vim, not too long ago you told us that you were only scientists here, not politicians or economists. This seems overly ambitious for a group like that, don’t you think? Or is that why you’ve brought so many attorneys to the station in the last few months?”
Vim smiled. “You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Brahlim. Yes, I have been seeking advice on how best to undertake such a daring adventure. Vying to be the first extra-terrestrial nation is a big deal, and I want to do it right.”
“Adventure?” exploded Ahkman. “You think this is a game; some amusement for you to tinker with?” Ahkman’s chair fell back as he stood, crashing on the floor. “Do you know the impact this will have on our company?”
“Hold on a minute,” Benunce Fridman called from Brahlim’s immediate right. “I think this is something we should look into. If we allow this, we could be making history, redefining man’s existence in the stars. Why wouldn’t we want the name of Carsus to be endowed on such a venture?”
“I’ll tell you why, you short-sighted amazon!” Ahkman erupted.
The room suddenly burst with debate. Everyone had a comment, one way or the other. Ahkman’s were especially animated. Curiously, the divide was split evenly. Nathaniel Kratin seemed to be the only one without anything to say. His absentia maddened Ahkman until Nathaniel finally rose and looked solemnly over the quarreling delegation. There was something about his presence that drew Ahkman’s attention, as it did everyone else’s. He stood erect and confident. It was evident he knew what he had to do and he commanded the squabbling delegation with a single look. When he spoke, it was with a conciliatory tone, but with a firmness that left no doubt he was in charge.
“Everyone, please,” Nathaniel counseled. “This is indeed an historic opportunity but not one that needs to be decided right at this moment. I think we need to take our time and seriously consider the real outcomes of this decision. We need to speak to the entire board of directors and get their input. Another thing to consider is how do the individual people who live here feel? Do they follow the sentiments of Mr. Vim? Or would they prefer to remain merely observers in our company’s affairs? These are issues I think need exploring.”
A pregnant pause suspended his words in the air. Was he saying the people should vote on this absurd idea? Ahkman questioned.
“Pilan, how much time do you need to verify the financial impact of the company with the loss of these stations?” Nathaniel asked the boiling Ahkman.
Ahkman immediately had an answer. “Three seconds! The effect will be the loss of billions in government grants, tourist dollars, not to mention the lucrative platinum and helium mining operations.” Ahkman glared at Kratin. “Any decision in that direction would make me wonder about the wisdom of reneging on our deal to sell to Medes. We will then have only preserved our right to extinction!”
The tension between the two men was immediately palpable. If the entire board had been there, Ahkman would hav
e called for a vote to remove Kratin from his position without hesitation, forgetting for the moment that Nathaniel practically owned the company.
“I think I want a more detailed analysis than that,” Kratin replied coldly after several seconds. “Have it done by tomorrow morning.”
The cheesecake was long forgotten. Ahkman hurled his napkin down onto his half-eaten dessert and glowered at Nathaniel. In his periphery he noticed the bodyguard Strinnger move slightly closer to his charge.
“I’ll have it in a couple of hours,” Ahkman growled.
Josephina rose next to him and the two briskly distanced themselves from the dining area with such speed that the polished ivory-colored doors opened barely in time for them to step through. Ahkman seemed to be taking one step for every five of Josephina’s. They impatiently waited while the elevator dropped them down to the lobby of the Lunar Administration Building, or LAB for short. Ahkman’s eyes scanned the foot traffic occupying the central concourse like a shark circling its prey. When he found what he was looking for he reached out and gripped the arm of a man in a black and yellow technician tunic mid-stride.
“You,” he commanded, “I need to communicate with Earth. Show me how to do that.”
CHAPTER 22
ARRIVAL
Starting a new job never bothered Eve, which seemed a little odd considering her line of work. The planning that went into a new project was both thrilling and aggravating at times. The hours were terrible, and rarely did anyone appreciate the artistry of her performance. Aside from all that, however, it never once occurred to her that what she did was wrong. After all, she rationalized, none of her targets were innocent. It’s not like they deserved to live more than the orphan with malaria in an impoverished African village, or the family without clean water in Asia. In fact, with most cases she felt quite the opposite; very little if any remorse for sending a thieving, lying, money-grabbing pig to an early grave. But as she approached the customs desk on Selene II, the official name of Selene City, an unfamiliar inquietude left her unsettled about the purpose of what she was about to do.
Nelsonn promised that all the arrangements were made and that she would sail through the checkpoints. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she could trust him. Why had he insisted she go alone? Was he setting her up for an ambush? A part of her wanted to run, to strap back into the Distant Horizon anchored back at Selene I and disappear forever.
“Next.”
Eve looked ahead at the clerk at the desk and smiled. This was it, no turning back now. She handed over the portable hard drive with her falsified transit documents and waited while the clerk ran the files. The unsettling feeling in her stomach grew as the clerk took longer than she’d expected to view her documentation. Something was wrong, she thought. Her senses heightened. Her smile and friendly demeanor never changed but she occasionally glanced from side to side, searching for any signs of a security patrol moving towards her.
I knew it, she cursed to herself. I told Nelsonn transporting a pathogen specimen as a cover was risky. “Everyone will want to know what it is and why I’m bringing it into the station,” she’d argued. They would have been better using some computer hardware instead which was very common and would not draw attention on the station. She could bluff her way out of any questions that might arise since she was familiar with that kind of technology. But she was not a disease expert. Nelsonn had been adamant though that there was no other way to get her case into the stations. She now wished that she had thrown the thing out of the porthole on the way from Selene I. The clerk’s nasally voice jerked her from her thoughts. His hand extended forward. Eve half expected a gun to be at the end of it, but was relieved to see only her hard drive wedged between the tips of two stubby fingers.
“Everything seems to be in order,” the clerk said. “I uploaded a map of the station to your drive so can find your way to the bio-engineering lab on Level 12 and I’ve alerted them that you’re on your way. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Eve smiled broadly. “No, I think that’s more than enough. Thank you so much! You have a good day now. What a wonderful man,” she brightly commented to the person in line behind her. “So helpful.”
She’d already memorized the map of the station but it was one she had drawn from memory from her trip there six years ago. Of course, the current official map would suit her much better. The clerk smiled back then called for the next person in line.
“I can’t believe that worked,” she mumbled to herself. Nelsonn must be better connected than I thought.
The spectacle of Old Town did not distract the focus of her mission. After all, she had seen it before. The statues of the Roman gods and goddesses for which the planets in the solar system were named running down the center of Main Street were new though. She chuckled to herself as the motorized sidewalk carried her past the larger than life figure of Jupiter.
“Clever, but tacky,” she thought aloud. Someone was trying too hard.
Suddenly, an urgent thought occurred to her. Where was she? Which street was she on? Was it still there? Her head frantically turned from side to side, hoping to see the familiar red and green storefront. A surge of adrenaline pricked her up. Where is it? She panicked. At last, after nervously scanning the buildings all around the central square she found it amid a wave of euphoria.
“Ninos!” she squealed.
Typically, Eve was not a high-maintenance woman. In her line of work, she couldn’t risk her appearance distinguishing her in a crowd. Her job was to blend in then disappear. Anything too luxurious or ostentatious was superfluous, if not outright dangerous. But the one thing she couldn’t do without, the one weakness she had in all the solar system, were shoes.
Coming up on her right, on the corner of 7th and South, sat a gray stone building that looked just like the rest of Old Town, but with one defining characteristic that separated it from its neighbors; a red door. Nino’s Cobblery was the only business in all of Old Town that was allowed to have a door or window any color other than black or gray. No one knew why. Most assumed Nino had bribed an administrator while others believed he’d simply defied convention and dared anyone to tell him differently. But almost everyone agreed that he was the most successful merchant on the station.
Amazingly, his work was in high demand. The crew and cadre of scientists on Selene II did not need stylish footwear but that didn’t stop them from buying them. The magnetic suits each person wore had padded magnetic soles inlaid under their feet to make walking comfortable while still maintaining a hold on the ground. But Nino’s was about vanity, not function. His creations were simply adornments, decorations that served no real purpose other than to make his clientele feel attractive.
In a hypnotic trance, Eve unconsciously stepped from the advancing walkway and approached the store. The cold glass of the outside sales window prickled the already cool skin of her hands as her entranced eyes caressed each delicate pump, stiletto, and flat. Even the sandals, which she normally did not care for, drew her attention. The temptation to enter was too powerful. In her mind’s eye, she could picture the strapped, fire engine red pumps prominently displayed in the window cinching around her ankle. She imagined the surge of energy that would ignite her suit as it interfaced with the filaments and microchips meshed within the shoe to mimic the function of the suit. The craving to wear them was overwhelming. She had to have them. Her hand reached out to take the door handle when she unexpectedly stopped.
“No,” she softly. “They’ll be my reward when the job’s done.” Her euphoria would have to wait. For now, she needed to focus on finishing the assignment from her arrogant husband.
Since Nelsonn and the rest of his gang had dropped her off at the orbiting station, she had asked herself several times why she was going along with his plan. Her whole way of life for the last five years had been built around one goal; springing Nelsonn from jail. And now that he was out, she wanted him back in. He had been a different person there. He’d bee
n charming, caring, and affectionate. She refused to believe that for years she had merely been his pawn, but now she could not shake the feeling that he was setting her up to take a fall.
Across the street she saw a popular refreshment dispenser. A handful of people filtered into it. It was perfect timing. Most everyone would either be stopping for something to eat before heading to their laboratories for the morning, or on their way out after their night shifts. She’d catch them in transition. Gracefully, she crossed the street and resumed her spot on the conveyor sidewalk.
The motorized path took her all the way to the New Town gate. The card key the clerk had given her when she arrived, with its yellow and gray bars on one side, allowed her to enter without any difficulty. A few meters from the door sat a chain of pearl-like tramcars. After verifying with the porter which tram would take her to the laboratory on the third level, she boarded the car.
Plastic, yet comfortable red seats lined the inside of the car, circling the interior compartment except where the doors slid open. A pair of tables was bolted to the floor on either side of the car, which was largely empty except for the two men on opposite sides from each other. One wore a yellow lab technician scrub suit while the other was dressed in a bone-white bodysuit which covered him from head to toe, including his face and eyes. The yellow tech raised his eyebrows in greeting while the other man paid her no mind. Politely, she smiled at the young tech then took a seat just to the left of the door as it shut behind her. The tram moved soundlessly forward.
The ride to the level she needed would take fifteen minutes. Sitting idly on the comfortable seats, Eve suddenly felt fatigued. She had been awake most of the night reviewing the mission details and the curtains now masquerading as her eyelids began to grow heavier as the color-coded sections of the station’s levels sped by. Giving in to her exhaustion, she closed her eyes. Just a few minutes, she thought. Her eyes closed willingly as she laid her head against the padded seat back.
