Dark Moon Rising

by Michael E. Gonzales

"Yes, indeed. You sleep. I'll try the room service."

  Chapter 22

  As Mary nibbled her ration, she watched Hugh sleep.

  "Martha," Balaji said, "you're not eating. You must, to keep your strength up."

  "I'm sorry, but with the murder of Joe, the disappearance of Bob, and the realization that Stanley is a killer, I just don't have much of an appetite."

  "We left our Ess-CEPS suits our food and water outside where Stan— we're going to have to go back out there and retrieve them," Mary pointed out.

  "Hugh had not noted them as missing," Balaji replied. "I presume they will be where we left them."

  After several moments of silence Martha stated, "I didn't know Joe well, but he seemed like a nice man."

  "I don't think any of us really knew him, Martha," Mary responded.

  "I remember seeing him on the shuttle from the NISS," Balaji said. "You must admit, he rather stuck out in a crowd with his shaved head and sunglasses."

  "Funny, a water inspector should be attached to the project," Martha added.

  "Martha, Joe was an agent with the DIA," Mary explained. The look on Martha's face betrayed her ignorance.

  "The Defense Intelligence Agency, Martha."

  "He was a spy?" Larry asked.

  "No," Mary went on. "He was sent here to protect...that reminds me, Balaji, we've completely forgotten about the project, the special project."

  "Well," Balaji replied, "I guess that's all over now that the dome is at the bottom of that pit. All we can hope for now is that no other warped mind thinks up another weapon like that one."

  "What weapon?" Larry asked.

  Mary looked at Balaji who shrugged. "Tell him. What difference can it make now?"

  Briefly, Mary informed Larry and Martha of all that had transpired and all that they knew.

  "And the only examples of these things were in the metal box which was in the dome when it went over?" Martha asked.

  "Yes, it's thankfully lost now," Mary answered with a smile.

  "It's not lost," Larry said.

  "What do you mean?" Mary asked.

  "Bob saved it. Didn't you know? I saw a metal box just as you described in his pack when he was putting his gloves away. Bob tied a red ribbon on his pack to identify it."

  "Why did he not tell us?" Balaji asked.

  "No time, I'd guess. We were in quite a hurry to escape, if you'll recall," Larry replied.

  "Great, now, we’re going to have to find that box," Mary reminded them angrily. "And you all know it’ll be Hugh who decides only he can do the job.”

  A sound from their right told them that Hugh had awakened.

  Mary ran to him, followed closely by Balaji. They escorted him to where the others were sitting in a circle of chairs provided by The Nine. Upon their return, Mary's chair had altered form. It had become a bench for two, where Mary and Hugh sat together. Hugh hung his head between his knees and rubbed his temples with both hands.

  "Hugh, are you all right?" Mary asked, putting her arm around his shoulders.

  "I am operating within design specifications. I am unharmed and unaltered."

  "Hugh?" Mary became very concerned with his automated response.

  "I'm okay, it's just my neuro pathways are—" he paused and looked at each face. "I have a headache."

  "Hugh, old man," Balaji jumped in. "I don't mean to rush you, but—"

  "Yeah, okay. It's a long story and I was provided far more detail than we require. I'll try to keep this short and simple. These...'people' discovered Earth in what would be our year 1106 AD. It was their mission to monitor our species and report to their home world. The laws governing their explorations expressly forbid them from doing anything that might have altered our natural development and progress, much like our own anthropologists.

  "I have to jump forward in time now to the year 1812. They had closely studied our revolution in the Americas and were studying the Napoleonic Wars.

  "I note that they were always very interested in our wars and studied how we wage war with great interest.

  "In 1812, they watched as half a million French soldiers marched into Russia that summer. That winter, twenty-five thousand retreating French arrived in the small town of Vilnius, now the capital of Lithuania, where twenty-two thousand of them died of exposure and disease. These soldiers were buried in mass graves just outside the village.

  "In their studies, they had retrieved many objects for closer examination. They would go to earth and pick up a lost musket, canteen, pair of boots, a shako, samples of food—the list is massive.

  "With all the deaths at Vilnius, they became interested in the causes of death outside of combat. They retrieved the body of a recently deceased French soldier and brought it here.

  "Somewhere along the line, one of their quarantine protocols was breached and several body lice escaped into the general environment of their base. Various diseases against which they had no immunity ripped through their population. Among the diseases were trench fever, borrelia, and typhus.

  "They couldn't figure out what was happening and it was happening very quickly. They attempted several cures. One was a bacterium that only affected a few of them. This turned out to be a good thing, because it messed up their minds, turning some of their numbers into homicidal maniacs.

  "The One," Hugh nodded toward the huge computer behind him, "determined that the diseases were undoubtedly going to kill everyone here. So, the brightest minds among them were selected for preservation."

  "And who made the determination as to who possessed the brightest minds?" Balaji asked.

  "It seems that they don't suffer from pride as we do. Everyone here knew exactly who the brightest minds belonged to, so there was no dispute.

  "The minds of these selected individuals were...downloaded, so to speak, into The One, making him The Nine." Hugh saw the amazement on everyone's face, particularly Mary's. "Don't look so shocked. We have this same technology." He shot Balaji a glance.

  "These nine aliens gave up their corporeal forms?" Mary asked.

  "All that they were was copied and saved within the memory of The One. Their physical bodies died, yes, but their minds, and their thoughts, live on inside here. They are cognizant of their situation and all that goes on about them. They are pure thought now. And they want to go home."

  "Is that what they meant when they said we could help one another?" Balaji asked.

  "Yes. They have a plan."

  "Hugh, can they hear and see us right now?" Balaji asked.

  "Yes. They can see us through the floating orbs," and Hugh indicated the glowing blue pea. "They hear us but don't understand us. I must convert our words into those equations to communicate with them. However, they are very good at interpretation through the inclination, tone, and volume of our voices, and they can also read our body language."

  Balaji did not move, but smiled broadly, hoping to camouflage his question, and asked, "Do you trust them?"

  "Yes, Balaji, I do."

  "Well," Larry said, "we are in the same boat."

  "How do you mean?" Mary asked.

  "We all just want to go home."

  Behind Hugh, the ten panels sprang to life, depthless equations flashing across them at a dazzling speed. Hugh did not turn around but he did raise his head, his eyes seeming fixed on some distant object. Then he stood and reported, "They see someone entering the facility through a damaged area about three point two kilometers distant from us."

  "Dr. Whitmore?" Larry asked.

  "The individual can't be identified; he is wearing an Ess-CEPS."

  "How did they see him?" Martha asked.

  "The orb on the ceiling outside, it's like a giant eyeball." Hugh then glanced at the startled faces and continued, "I asked them if they had any weapons here. They do, but they will not tell me where they are. It is against their orders to directly or indirectly cause harm to any sophont life form. They understand that providing me a weapon will bring about the death or injury of
a living thing."

  Martha raised her hand as asked,” I’m sorry Hugh—sophont?”

  “It’s the ability of a living creature to acquire, understand, and use knowledge. Like people as opposed to insects.”

  "Damn." Larry was on his feet. "We can't hide in here the rest of our lives. We're going to have to go out and confront Whitmore sooner or later."

  "You're right, of course," Hugh agreed. "Bal-ah-gee, Lar-ree, you're with me. Ladies, you stay—"

  "Hugh," Mary said gaining her feet, "there is no way I'm going to just sit here. I'm no cream puff. I can, and want to help."

  Hugh took her by the arm and led her aside. "Mary, what about Martha? Are we just going to leave her here alone?"

  Mary looked a little flustered. "She'll be all right."

  "Dammit Mary, I don't want you to go."

  "Why not?"

  "Because—" his voice calmed, "I don't want to see you hurt. Don't you understand?"

  "Hugh," she was calm as well, "I think I do. But I can't stay here and just wait, I—"

  "Hey, you two," Martha called. "If you're talking about leaving me here, forget it. We're all in this together."

  Mary looked into Hugh's eyes, "I guess that settles it."

  "Will you do me one favor?" Hugh asked Mary.

  "What?"

  "Stay to the rear, and if anything happens, take cover. Bullets don't care how pretty you are."

  Mary smiled broadly, if nervously, and nodded.

  All five started down the long tunnel. Accompanying them was the glowing pea that they had begun to refer to affectionately as Pixie. She would be their eyes from this point on, as everything she saw was being projected into Hugh's mind when he wanted to see it.

  They knew where Dr. Whitmore's point of entry was, but not where he had gone from there. Hugh's group had entered from the south side of the installation. Dr. Whitmore had entered three point two kilometers north. If he was seeking them out, and there was no other reason for him to reenter the facility, he would have to move south. So, they considered it likely he was headed their way.

  At every doorway they encountered, Hugh would look into one and Pixie into another before going on. At one room, he went inside and pulled vigorously at a conduit running along the wall. It gave way far too easily. And Hugh discarded it.

  "Hugh, what are you doing?" Larry asked.

  "I'm looking for anything that I can use as a weapon. Keep your eyes open."

  Pixie sped on ahead scouting the path. This gave Hugh additional time for his search. Ultimately, he provided Larry and Balaji each with a piece of metal pipe about ninety centimeters long. For himself, he found a two and a half meter-long metal shaft; one end of which he had broken off in such a manner that it came to a point. But the real find was a section of window which had come out of its frame. It was of a good size and just small enough to fit down the corridor. It was manufactured from a material described to Hugh by The Nine as transparent metal.

  Using what looked like wiring from between two sections of wall damaged long ago, Hugh and Larry fabricated a harness by which this window could be lifted and carried before them as a shield against the Doctor's pistol. It was not as heavy as it appeared, even by lunar standards. But it was cumbersome and difficult to maneuver around some corners.

  The farther they went, the more cautious they became. "Remember," Hugh warned, "Dr. Whitmore could be around the next corner."

  Half an hour after Hugh had 'armed' them, he suddenly stopped. "Wait," he said, staring off into nothing. "Pixie has spotted him above us two levels and thirty meters north. If he stays on this course, he could descend and attack from behind us. He only has two options: Continue upward or head down. He can't know where we are. I don't understand what he's up to."

  "Ask The Nine to analyze his actions, why don't you?" Balaji asked.

  Hugh nodded. A moment passed, he looked lost in thought. "That's not good," Hugh murmured.

  "What's not good?" Larry asked.

  "The Nine all got excited. Seems Dr. Whitmore is exhibiting the same behavior that their own people did who had been infected by the bacteria they created."

  "That was hundreds of years ago," Mary said. "How could a centuries old germ—"

  "Mary," Balaji interrupted, "there is ample anecdotal evidence to support the survival of various microbes in extreme conditions for millennia on Earth."

  "So, now Dr. Whitmore is a homicidal maniac?" Mary asked.

  Hugh responded coolly, "Erratic behavior coupled with one dead, possibly two; I'd say it's a safe bet."

  "Well, what's the plan once we catch up with him?" asked Martha. "You certainly don't plan to kill him."

  Hugh replied in a calm but firm voice, "Martha, he has a .40 caliber automatic hand gun. He has at least six remaining rounds. If he allows himself to be captured, fine. If not—well, if somebody has to die, I say it should be him."

  "You said it yourself, he's infected with something. He's not a killer!"

  "Tell it to Joe," Hugh replied.

  "You're so ready to kill him, how do we know you're not infected?" Martha demanded.

  Hugh again shot Balaji a glance. "Martha," Hugh said slowly, "I'm not infected. I'm a soldier, faced with an armed assailant who has already killed. I'm just being realistic, and you know I am."

  "Martha," Mary took Martha's hand. "None of us like any of this, you know that. Hugh is trying to protect us; if we can, we'll convince Stanley to give up."

  Martha was obviously distraught, but she nodded to Mary.

  They had walked another two hundred meters when Hugh lifted his left arm and quietly commanded, "Halt." He knelt down on one knee, then after a moment, rose and turned to face everyone. "Pixie has just showed me an image of Dr. Whitmore. He's still in his Ess-CEPS and carrying Bob's back pack."

  "How do you know it's Bob's pack?" Martha asked.

  "Larry told us about the red ribbon, and I saw the ribbon on the pack."

  "Why would he put his suit back on?" Larry asked.

  "He's carrying the pistol at the ready and the hammer is back. He's locked, loaded, and ready to fire. That's why he's in his Ess-CEPS—he's worried that if he fires that weapon and misses we'll lose the atmosphere in here. Remember him talking about how fragile he thinks this place is?"

  "I just can't believe that Stanley is a killer." Martha was near tears.

  "Martha, I'm sorry, I wish I had another explanation and a better course of action. But I don't."

  "Where is he now, Hugh?" Larry asked.

  "The One tells me he's headed for the oxygen generating plant. I've been shown a path we can take that will help us arrive there before him by almost twenty minutes. Let's move."

  They carried the shield now to one side instead of upright and were moving quickly. As they approached a large door, it quietly slid open. Beyond was a straight, seamless hallway also illuminated in the same strange manner. Entering it, they all noticed the air was fresh and cool. From down the hall could be heard an odd sound: a high pitched hum over a deep resonating growl. Hugh was informed by The Nine that they were now inside the stone behind the installation.

  They entered a huge grotto where stood an incredible machine. It was half the size of the entire installation. It was so large its entirety could not be seen from any one position. They could see a series of gargantuan cylinders, each topped with a dome. Some, at ninety meters or more, were taller than others which were only twenty-five to thirty meters tall. At their bases, several low rectangular buildings seemed scattered about and connected to the cylinders by cables and tubes.

  In the far distance stood a coil-like object, it was a kilometer in diameter and 500 meters tall. From its base, huge conduits led out in all directions. "The oxygen generator," Hugh said as he noticed everyone looking at the huge machine.

  They continued to walk, in awe of the technology before them, imagining it operating without stopping for a millennium. As they grew closer to the great machine, they gained a bett
er understanding of what was happening here. Between the cylinders and the coil, there was an apparatus that reminded Hugh of a water cannon. It, too, was huge on the same scale as the rest of this machine. At its base, it was twelve meters in diameter, forty-five meters tall, and thirty meters or more long. From its nozzle, a white liquid or foam was being ejected into a trackless pit.

  Chapter 23

  Mary and Balaji got close enough to the vast chasm to gaze down into its maw and were amazed to see the foam was melting the stone. The liquid stone was then sucked up by several hoses and pumped into the coil. No doubt, the coil was processing the oxygen out of the liquefied regolith. The residue was carried off to some unknown location. The melting chemical was recycled back into the gargantuan cylinders for repeated use.

  "Balaji," Mary had to shout over the roar of the jet of foam being sprayed from the machine. She pointed down into the pit, "looks like you weren't the first to discover this procedure."

  "Indeed. But these aliens have put it into effect on a massive scale. And look down there—it's that bread dough effect we saw in the first cave!"

  Below them, long strands of stone that stretched like wet dough or spider webs crossed the pit.

  "Undoubtedly," Mary went on, "the chamber that our dome fell into was caused by this process."

  "Do you think they know they are melting our moon, and how essential it is to our planet's orbit?" Balaji asked.

  "Balaji—they have been dead and gone for centuries. This stuff is on auto pilot."

  Balaji looked at her, and his eyes fell on a spot far beyond where they stood. Hugh and Larry were erecting a sort of barricade. It incorporated the window they had carried and several large stones. It was immediately in front of the tunnel that had led them here. Balaji pointed this out, and Mary walked over to Hugh and Larry.

  "What's this?" Mary asked.

  "This is our redoubt. This area will protect you and Martha from gun fire and provide a means of escape."

  "Protect us from gun fire?"

  "You promised me you'd stay to the rear, and take cover."

  "No, you asked me to stay to the rear, and take cover. I never promised—"