Dark Moon Rising

by Michael E. Gonzales

  ****

  The next morning as she joined Balaji at breakfast, Mary was very quiet. He did not say a word as they moved through the cafeteria line. They took a seat and after several minutes, she looked up and asked, "How certain are you he knows the meaning of each of those flowers he's made for me?"

  "Oh, I don't know. I take it you have looked up each of them?"

  "Yeah, of the four so far, three are professions of—" she lowered her voice, "love."

  "I see."

  "Is that all you can say?" Mary was incredulous.

  "Mary, it could be coincidence, but—"

  "But what?"

  "I doubt it."

  "Look, Balaji," Mary put her cutlery down. "He admitted he has spoken to you about me. I want to know what he said."

  "Our conversation was in the strictest confidence."

  She squinted at him. "Balaji. This is serious. I have to make a decision."

  "Oh, my, I suppose were we in the garden you'd convince me to also bite the apple. I will not go into details, but in a nut shell, he explained that he thinks you are most beautiful and that he wanted to be friends with you."

  "Friends. He used that word?"

  "Indeed he did." Balaji took a sip of tea then added, "He was aware he was not very proficient in his attempts to meet you, and so asked me what he was doing wrong."

  "Is that it?"

  "He admitted he had no experience with women. None at all."

  "Yeah, he all but admitted that to me, too."

  Balaji took another sip of tea. "What decision are you struggling with Mary?"

  "In the short term, whether or not to see him again. He is so damned cryptic." She pushed her plate away. "Little details about his life are state secrets, and then there is this business of him not being able to pronounce my name."

  "I will admit that seems a little strange," Balaji replied.

  "He did manage 'Ma-ree' last night. But come on, Balaji, seriously?" She folded her arms.

  "Perhaps he has a speech impediment and is embarrassed to have you hear it?"

  "Nope, won't fly. Something is up with that guy."

  "You feel he is a threat?"

  "No. I don't feel that."

  "Mary, let me point something out to you I do not think you have taken into consideration." Balaji put down his tea and wiped his mouth with his napkin, then leaned on the table. "In sixteen months, you will return to Earth. It is likely he will remain here. From this fact, there are two roads you can travel. On road one, you realize it is too short a period of time to invest any emotion into this man that you will never see again, so you don't, and simply walk away from him now. The other road is more difficult. Because, knowing you will never see him again, you make no investment. Just enjoy his company while you are here, then go home." He took another sip of tea.

  "What if he is already investing emotion in me?"

  "Then, should you not wish to reciprocate, you are left with only the first road."

  ****

  A few days later as Mary and Balaji returned to the lab from lunch, Balaji was passing the door that led into the corridor through which Stanley's office was accessed. Glancing down the hallway, he saw Stanley shaking hands with the man with the shaved head. He stopped, and they both saw him. Balaji proceeded to his workstation and didn't give the incident another thought.

  Chapter 8

  The following week, Stanley again called Balaji into his office. Balaji was apprehensive as he had not spoken to Stanley since their falling out.

  "Balaji, I need you to run some tests for me that are extraneous to your current line of research." He produced a metal container smaller than a shoe box. There was a handle on the top and two latches on the side. There were biohazard symbols on all six sides. Opening the box, he produced a small vial containing a clear liquid. There were ten of these vials inside the box.

  "This substance has been designed by NASA as part of an overall system to safely place humans into hypo-metabolic stasis for protracted periods of time. In two of the vials, numbers C-748 and C-749, you'll find a nanobot. I want you to perform an analysis of these machines and determine their function. Under no circumstances are you to allow the two to come into contact. Are we clear on that restriction?"

  "We are. Stanley, you do not know what these two nanobots were designed to do?"

  "Humor me Doctor, please. And know that this project is of the highest priority."

  "To whom?"

  "I need a preliminary report within forty-eight hours, can you manage that?"

  "I will see what I can do."

  "Thank you."

  The substance in the vials was an oxygenated fluorocarbon emulsion with unusual properties: high gas solubility for oxygen and carbon dioxide; immiscible with body fluids; a high density and low surface tension; and ideal vapor pressure for easy removal from the lungs because the substance was a breathable liquid. It was very much like Liquivent, used medically for many decades. However, this substance was much more advanced.

  Balaji tested each vial, finding the contents of each exactly the same. He noticed that all the vials were coded with a small green dot except two, and they bore red dots. These were the vials Stanley had mentioned, numbers C-748 and C-749. He removed a small sample of each and looked again at them. Each was the same, a highly oxygenated fluorocarbon emulsion. Below each dot was inscribed a number, different on each vial. Below the number on the red dot vials Balaji read, "Size: 1,000 nanometers." He placed the first vial in the Three Dimensional Imaging Microscope and programmed the computer to search.

  Five hours after being presented with this task, Balaji walked back in to Stanley's office, container in hand.

  "That was fast," Stanley greeted Balaji as he entered his office. "Is there a problem?"

  Balaji placed the box on his desk. "You know what is in these, do you not?"

  "Yes, Balaji, I do."

  "The fluorocarbon emulsion is a leap forward by a full generation from Liquivent. No doubt the military will be greatly pleased."

  "Don't be so myopic, Balaji. Do you realize that this substance, coupled with the new regenerative bio filters, will allow humans almost unlimited breathing time in space and on the bottom of the Earth's seas?"

  "Well and good. Let us discuss the ubiquitin-and proteasome- generating nanobots I found in the vials C-748 and C-749."

  "Yes, let's."

  "Stanley, the nanobots suspended in those two vials, together, in sufficient numbers could provide the kiss of death to all other proteins in any organism. What we have here is a weapon of mass destruction, one that could wipe out a population in an incredibly short period of time. What are you up to, Stanley?"

  "Balaji, let me introduce you to a fellow government employee."

  Stanley pressed a button and the bald man entered the room.

  The man extended his hand. "Dr. Balaji Sharma, I am Joseph Smith."

  "Of course you are."

  "You may call me Joe. Doctor, I'm with the Defense Intelligence Agency, or DIA. Sit down, please."

  Balaji sat. Mr. Smith stood next to Stanley, who rested his head in his left hand, his elbow on the arm of his chair.

  "Doctor," Mr. Smith continued, "those vials do indeed contain a new fluorocarbon emulsion. For security purposes, we hid the two nanobots you found in the test samples. You have correctly identified the nanobots, their function, and their intended use, as weapons. We tested you, Doctor. We wanted to see if you could identify them. You did exactly that in a remarkably short period of time. Now, Doctor, we want you to tell us how to stop them." He walked around Stanley's desk and leaned on the corner across from Balaji.

  "There is a growing group of fanatics coming out of the war in Oceania. They are well-funded, with supporters in every rogue government on the planet. These fanatics believe that in order to bring about paradise on Earth, certain key things must occur. They have been working for two generations to bring those things about. The last required event is the total de
struction of life on Earth."

  Balaji glanced incredulously from Stanley to Mr. Smith. "And this will bring about paradise on Earth, for whom?"

  "It's a long story Doctor, but their belief is that after every form of life is eradicated, the blessed believers will magically reappear on an Earth transformed into their vision of paradise.

  "The contents of those vials represent the culmination of their dreams. Doctor, several hundred people died to secure those things. We have what we believe are the only existing prototypes."

  "Why have you brought them here?"

  "They are off the planet for one thing; and, we thought, out of their reach—"

  "Thought?" There was alarm in Balaji's voice.

  Mr. Smith stood and walked to a curtained porthole and peeked out as he spoke, "We have reason to believe that agents of The Servants of the Serpent, the Hamba-Ular as they refer to themselves, are already here. Our boys in combat refer to them as the Sword and Stars, because their symbol is a vertical scimitar with two six-pointed stars out to its left. They are a suicide cult entirely without mercy, and they want these two nanobots back. The rational governments of the world have killed or captured the inventors of this horror. Their original plans, and decades of their work, have been destroyed, and we don't believe there are any copies."

  Balaji stood and exclaimed, "Then destroy these two devices and be done with it!"

  "They have been created once, they could be created again. I came up here to enlist Dr. Whitmore and his team. To ask you all, the most respected scientists of Earth, to find a way to stop these things quickly, should they ever be released on the planet."

  "Who else knows of this?" Balaji asked, falling back into his seat.

  "On the Moon? Just the three of us, and the enemy agent or agents. And Doctor, for the time being, we want to keep it that way."

  Balaji rubbed his chin then shot Stanley a glance. "This is, I'm sure you can appreciate a difficult story to swallow," he stood and approached Mr. Smith. "Let me provide you an alternative scenario: This is just the latest in an out-of-control arms race."

  "I wish it were that simple, Doctor." Smith turned from the window.

  "Stanley, do you believe this?" Balaji asked.

  "Well, I believe the real question is can we afford not to?" Stanley shifted in his chair. "Whatever the truth, Mr. Smith is asking us to develop a countermeasure; one that would save the lives of every soul on the planet."

  "Or, one that would make it easier to use this weapon," Balaji accused.

  "What do you mean?" Mr. Smith demanded.

  "You provide the countermeasure only to that population you wish to spare. As I see it, this weapon comes with the same safeguard as the atomic bomb did in the twentieth century. Mutual assured destruction."

  "Balaji," Stanley leaned forward over his desk, "MAD is only effective if everyone fears death."

  Balaji sat back down and remained quite still considering all he had heard. He was still not sure he believed everything they had said.

  "Balaji," Stanley cajoled, "why don't you think it over? A countermeasure presented to the whole world will render these things useless."

  "Dr. Sharma," Mr. Smith continued the line of thought, "to give you an insight into the kind of people we're dealing with here you should know that they glory in being called insane. They believe that their sanity comes from a higher source, and that what we call insanity is what gives them the strength to do what the sane will not."

  "That is a warped mantra, but there is truth to it," Balaji replied.

  "Doctor, I trust this conversation will be treated with the utmost discretion," the government agent urged.

  Balaji looked at Stanley for a long moment, but he remained stoic. "Yes, Mr. Smith, you may have trust in me as long as I can find something in you to trust."

  ****

  Hugh was in the motor pool sitting inside LPC Bravo one-three filling out an after patrol report and mumbling to himself over and over again, "Mar-ee. Ma-ree. Maaaaa...reeee—"

  "Pacherd, what are you doing?" Sergeant First Class Dave Mitchel's voice interrupted him.

  "Hello, Dave. I'm practicing."

  "Practicing what?" Dave walked over and sat next to Hugh on the bench seat along the bulkhead.

  "Pronunciation," Hugh said.

  "Okay, are we going to play this game all evening?" Dave asked.

  "Dave, how long have I known you?"

  "Since I first woke up on this crater cover, why?"

  Hugh turned in his seat to face Dave. "I have a really big secret. I'm bustin' to tell someone, and you are about my closest friend."

  Dave laughed. "Oh, hell, I'm your only friend."

  "Not any more, I'm friendly with a...a scientist."

  Mitchel remained silent for a moment, and his face lost all expression. "You know that's against our orders, right?"

  "Dave, listen to me just a moment. Her name is Dr. Mary Eddington. She has authorized me to call her by her first name alone, Ma-reee. It's the damnedest thing; I can say her complete name, but not just her first name."

  "That's because addressing her solely by her first name is the familiar, and we are not, I say again, not allowed to become familiar with the lab coats."

  "I know, Dave, I know. But—"

  "But what?" Dave clasped his hands together and leaned his forearms on his thighs.

  "I think," Hugh looked down at the deck, "I'm in love with her." Hugh was hoping for some sign of support from his friend.

  Mitchel hung his head between his knees and slowly shook it. "Oh shezzzzz. Tell me this is a joke."

  "No, buddy, I'm afraid not." Hugh was feeling the anxiety building within him.

  "Do you have the vaguest idea what they will do to you if they catch you? Hell, all they have to have is an inkling that you are even capable of such an emotion and—"

  "Okay, I understand. But Dave, it's worth it."

  "Hugh, you know it's not right, on several levels. Don't you?"

  "Yeah, Dave, I know. I just can't help myself. If it means they...well if they catch me tonight, at least I will have loved."

  Dave looked into Hugh's eyes steadily, and then slowly said, "Something tells me you've not told this Mary Eddington about your...your situation?"

  "That would be against the rules, Dave."

  "Now you worry about the rules?" Dave sat up. Several moments passed, and then he looked Hugh in the face. "Here's what you do. Think her entire name, but enunciate only her first name. It's a glitch they never caught, and it works."

  "How is it you know that little trick?"

  "Ah, hell, buddy, this ain't my first full moon." Mitchel paused a moment and lowered his head again. "Love huh? Well, I wish you luck, pal. I wish I had, ah, it's too late for me. I gave up on it years ago. I always figured that when they told us our emotions had been restricted; they were telling the truth. Really, I’m very happy to hear it’s not. Love is, after all, the pinnacle of human emotion. I hope this works out for you, Hugh, but frankly, I don't see how it can."

  ****

  The next morning, Mary was greatly concerned that Balaji did not show up either for breakfast or at the lab. She asked around for him, but no one had seen him. She tried to call him several times, to no avail. She even went to his room and knocked. At last, in desperation, she went to Stanley.

  "Stan, have you seen Balaji?" she asked.

  "Yes, yesterday."

  "Well, where is he today?"

  "He asked me for a little time away and I granted it."

  "Is he alright? Where is he? He's not answering his phone."

  "Mary, I'm going to let him explain that to you when he returns."

  "When will that be?"

  "Perhaps tomorrow."

  That night, Mary stepped outside her apartment complex and looked up toward Balaji's room expecting to see him headed down for their evening walk. She tried again to call, but only got his voice mail. She had decided to just return to her room when she heard foo
tsteps. She looked up to see Hugh approaching. She had not seen him in three days.

  "Oh, Hugh." She trotted toward him.

  "Well, hello. I'm happy to see you too, Mar—"

  "Hugh, something has happened to Balaji."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He wasn't at breakfast this morning, or lunch or at work today at all. He's not answering his phone or his door, and he hasn't shown up tonight for our walk. I'm very worried."

  "There's no missing person report open."

  "Stan told me he asked for time off. But Hugh, he wouldn't leave without telling me."

  "No shuttle has departed, so I guarantee he's here someplace. Hold on." Mary watched as Hugh tapped his temple. He also grabbed the device on his belt and placed it on speaker. "Coms this is Sergeant Pacherd, over."

  "Pacherd this is Coms, over."

  "I need a location on the COMde of Dr. Balaji Manohar Sharma, over."

  "Pacherd, Coms. It is located at Delta-seven, complex four, floor eight, room one-one-zero at fifteen point three. The instrument is off at this time, over."

  "Coms, Pacherd. Activate it please, over."

  "Pacherd, Coms. You need authorization for that, over."

  "Coms, Pacherd. Roger, out." Hugh focused on Mary. "Well, Mary, he's up there, or at least, his device is." He then tapped his temple to shut off his COMde—seemingly as an afterthought.

  "Thanks, Hugh, for...hey, you said it. You said my name!"

  "I've been working on it for three days."

  They walked for more than thirty minutes and were soon a kilometer from Mary's quarters. Their conversation about Balaji left Mary distraught. Hugh recognized this and decided a flower might cheer her up. A dandelion meant happiness, so he searched in his pockets and withdrew his copy of his patrol report. He had just started to fold it when Mary stopped him.