The Legion and the Lioness

by Robert D. Armstrong

  I recalled Luther talking about finding a job once we got here. For a moment, I wondered what he might have done here if things would have turned out differently.

  “So, why is the military maroon? Is there a reason that’s the color?” I asked.

  Drake glanced at Corvin and cleared his throat. Corvin stared straight ahead, his eyes danced around as he looked for the right words. “Okay, now that one is different. The maroon is symbolic. It has to do with your world actually. A warning.” He turned, smiling at me.

  “Oh? That’s interesting, how? Nice to know there’s a connection,” I asked. He dipped his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the floor for a moment.

  “The maroon color represents dried blood. For those that died on Earth. To us, maroon represents the passage of time, the way blood dries darker. It’s important that we wear it. A reminder,” Corvin explained.

  “Well.” My eyes drifted a hundred miles away. I recalled ordering Rotus to kill innocents for the greater good. Our actions were fruitless in the grand scheme of things. They would have likely died anyway in the nuclear fires to come.

  “And that color, what lesson did Titan learn from Earth?” I asked. He paused for a moment.

  “We believe unity is the only way to live in harmony. We will not be divided and destroyed from within. We feel that division between Earthlings was a contributing factor in their demise,” he said.

  I got the feeling he didn’t want to offend me but had to get his message across. I found it to be an interesting response. Where were Titan’s destroyers, cruisers, or tanks? I didn’t even see any military police roaming around. To be united, you need at least some force projection against such a threat.

  “Hmm,” I said. Corvin stopped, overlooking the landscape. Both Drake and I followed suit.

  “Our constitution covers all of Titan, no invisible borders or nationalist propaganda, no division. Everyone is equal here.” He waved his hand around the installation. I nodded slowly. It appeared he was evaluating my reaction as he shifted his eyes toward me.

  I puckered out my bottom lip. “Your constitution covers the entire moon?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, if a group ever decides to splinter off and form their own community or country, they still fall under your constitution, your law?” I asked.

  “Uh, well, we haven’t really planned for that. The constitution is a way to ensure equality and fairness for all Titans,” he said. I grinned.

  “Right.” Deep down I knew this wouldn’t last. It sounded great. The problem was, humans were divisive, fickle creatures. Religious denominations were formed over parking spot disputes.

  “At some point, a group will leave here and start their own colony someplace else, if it hasn’t happened already,” I blurted out.

  “No, it hasn’t,” Corvin snapped.

  “Well, you guys are freshman on this moon, give it time. Besides, you wouldn’t tell me if people had left anyway, would you?” I sneered.

  “I would, but we’re getting off track. My point was, there is no such thing as race or nationality here. We believe that’s where division starts, at the core,” he said.

  I glanced over at Drake as he stared forward emotionless. He seemed bored. I imagined he was evaluating me, pretending to be disinterested.

  “So, wait, you’re not black, and I’m not white? Drake’s not, uh, mixed? All that’s over?” I laughed, placing my hand on my hip.

  “Yep, that’s a very old way of thinking. Drake and I know what you are referring to when you use those words, but chances are most of our younger people would be confused by your race classifications. We look at skin color like the color of your eyes or hair. It’s just a trait you inherited. Nothing more,” he explained. I suddenly felt my age.

  “That’s one way to do it,” I said. I never had any issues with race, but outright ignoring them? That was a new one.

  “Yep, it’s all about blurring those lines, we don’t think they matter in any constructive way,” he said. I wondered if he even believed what he was saying, so I had an idea.

  “Hmm. So, what about vaginas and penises in the military? All the same, too?” I posed.

  Corvin’s eyes widened. “Ahhh, well, in regard to equality, of course,” he stumbled. Drake turned away, having nothing to do with it. I threw a curve ball at Corvin on purpose, and it worked. I wasn’t stupid nor a feminist, but he wasn’t being honest. In my line of work, we all knew men were more capable in terms of physicality. I was fine with it. I didn’t need bulging biceps to be the best fighter pilot that ever lived, but don’t bullshit me.

  “Right.” I turned my head to the side and arched an eyebrow.

  These people weren’t being real with themselves. They were turning away from reality. No wonder they hadn’t built up a formidable military to fight against the androids. They seemed to be in denial about many things. The racial equality angle was an interesting step. In a way, it seemed like something from the android’s playbook.

  The machines were unified in their campaign against humanity. We were likely not in our defense. Our politics and petty differences handcuffed our ability to quickly collaborate.

  I recalled before the nuclear war when my own country outright denied assistance from other world powers to maintain their reputation.

  After all these years, neither Titan nor Earth seemed to have it right. In my opinion, we needed a high-powered military and unification to win.

  Suddenly, a drizzle began to fall, spotting up the windows. “It hasn’t rained since you’ve been awake, has it?” Drake scratched his neck, changing the subject.

  “Ah no, I don’t think so,” I replied.

  “Methane, in the form of liquid rain here,” Drake said, pointing at the glass.

  “I remember the briefings about it before we left. My husband was pretty fascinated by it all,” I recalled.

  Drake stared into my eyes briefly and looked away. I felt he was measuring my state of mind. He probably knew about Luther. I’m sure the thought crossed his mind that my emotional state might affect the mission. I didn’t really give a fuck about his reservations. I had my own about him.

  “How cold is it now?” I asked, admiring Saturn off to my right. Today it was more obscured by the clouds, but I could still see it plainly.

  The sheer scale of it was not yet a normality in my mind. The planet’s outline seemed to swallow Titan. It felt right next to me, and it was over a million kilometers away, well over three times the distance between Earth and our moon.

  “Minus one-seventy-nine degrees Celsius, or, oh, I think you used Fahrenheit, so that would be about—”

  “Two-ninety. Minus two-hundred and ninety degrees,” I said. I remembered the numbers, but I wanted to see if the planet had warmed since my arrival with all the mining and whatever else they were doing.

  “Is that about the average?” I asked.

  “Give or take, yeah,” Drake replied. The planet hadn’t warmed much, if at all.

  “So, what’s the goal, why all the mining?” I asked. Off to my left was what reminded me of a colony of ants. These construction workers, or honeybees had been drilling nonstop since I woke.

  “Baby boom,” Corvin said.

  “Are you building day cares or what?” I joked. Corvin chuckled, dropping his head slightly.

  “No, there will be more of those, sure, but we’ve built thousands of climate controlled communities here. Some are powered by natural gases, some are solar,” he explained.

  “Natural gas? The oil industry on Titan? All these years and we’re still using that?” I asked. Corvin and Drake glanced at one another confused.

  “Well, it’s simple to find and it helps grow our economy,” Drake answered.

  “From my time, the energy mega corporations were known to be part of the reason Earth was a slum well before the war. It got out of control with giant oil spills and the dumping of waste,” I recalled.

  “It’s not like that now
. All those people you see are working for a more connected, climate controlled infrastructure,” Corvin replied.

  I sighed. “That reminds me. How long can a person breathe outside without protection? The answer I got before we left was about forty-five seconds?” I asked.

  “Um, yeah. You would never want to try that. Sixteen seconds max is the actual answer, unless you hold your breath. Two deep breaths are enough to kill you. We’ve recovered people that have taken a single breath, but not two. Chilled nitrogen will fill your lungs and freeze them solid,” Drake said.

  I wondered how many Titans had committed suicide that way. Seemed horrible, but quick.

  “Why do you ask? That’s sort of a strange question considering we have plenty of protection,” Drake pried.

  “Well, you know, us fighter pilots like to push things. I bet I could survive thirty seconds if an average Joe can do sixteen seconds,” I said.

  Drake chuckled, shaking his head. I got the feeling he thought I was touch crazy. I had no intention of trying it, but I enjoyed messing with him. I wanted to bring him into the conversation and learn more about him. After all, he was going to help me find Luther.

  “Calm down, I’m just giving you a hard time,” I said.

  “That’s kinda what I was hoping,” he replied.

  Corvin tucked his hand under his chin. “Ahem. People actually go outside for recreation. Those workers are wearing suits because they’re outside all day. It’s cold, but you can wear special thermal suits to keep you warm. They’re smaller, lightweight, and comfortable along with a helmet.”

  “What’s the point then? Might as well just wear the full suit to be safe,” I said.

  “Some people don’t like to fly in those bulky suits,” Corvin injected.

  “Fly? Now you have my attention,” I said.

  “Yes. Gravity here, as you know, it’s weaker than even Earth’s moon. You can literally flap your arms and fly on Titan,” he said. My eyes bounced from Corvin to Drake.

  “Really?” I asked, even though I was technically a centenarian, I was still a daredevil. The thought of flying like a bird without a ship’s assistance was about as exciting as it got.

  I grew up watching virtual reality modules of birds of prey with my dad’s glasses. I would sit in front of my window and turn the fan on full blast in front of my face. I would imagine I was soaring through the clouds, outstretching my arms as I banked on the wind currents.

  “It’s what we do here. I’ve been flying around this moon since I was about nine,” Drake said.

  “How high can you go?” I asked.

  “Two kilometers high is relatively safe,” he replied.

  “Oh my. Well, that’s on my bucket list to do. Which reminds me, considering Earth is an android hellscape, I’ll need a new one for Titan,” I said. Drake smirked.

  “Speaking of gravity, how did your engineers figure that out? It feels exactly like Earth’s gravity in here,” I asked.

  “I think as a pilot you can appreciate what we’ve done,” Corvin said proudly.

  “I’m all ears. Shoot.”

  “This entire installation is moving.”

  “What?” I narrowed my eyes outside. We weren’t moving at all.

  “We’re actually inside a giant, interconnected set of bullet trains zipping around a circular course that’s built on a slope. Like a race track. Centrifugal force is the main ingredient to maintain Earth-like gravity here,” Corvin said.

  “Um, but how? We’re not moving?” I pointed outside.

  “All the windows in this installation are projected live streams, they’re video feeds from the outside, from cameras fixed on the track. We’re actually moving extremely fast,” Corvin said.

  “You’re joking,” I muttered. Luther would have loved this. I recalled the massive storage areas on the Orion that were filled with equipment to build an installation, I just never thought it would be like this.

  “No, no, it’s not a joke. Remember the honeybees? They’re also responsible for working on the railway system,” Corvin said.

  “So how do they get in and out of the train? They might be bees, but I doubt they can fly that well.” I smiled.

  Drake glanced away while Corvin looked down. This wasn’t funny to either of them. I wondered why.

  “We stop the installation for various reasons, usually for maintenance and additions to the facility. We’ve gone months floating around inside here with low gravity. Be thankful you were revived after most of the kinks were sorted out,” Corvin said.

  I wasn’t thankful about that at all. My hiatus wasn’t helping Luther’s case. I felt the longer he was under the ice, the less his chances were. He was helpless.

  “This way.” Corvin stepped off, taking a left turn after several meters. The tube widened a bit with dozens of rows of seats on both sides.

  We approached a door with a guard in body armor. Above the door read ‘HANGER ALPHA.’ The middle-aged guard beamed when he made eye contact with Corvin. “Hi, sir.” He stood up tall.

  “Who’s this?” the guard asked, looking me up and down with scrutiny. I noticed him taking interest to the scar on my head.

  “Um, new pilot, she’s a trainee,” Corvin replied.

  “Oh,” he said. I got the feeling he was suspicious as he shifted his eyes away.

  He reminded me of an older version of my brother, Atticus. He had autumn, thinning hair like the guard, but retained his round child-like facial features. I hadn’t thought much about Atticus since I woke up, and for good reason. He was another person from my life I’d never see again.

  Atticus and I didn’t get along as kids, but as we got older, we began to bond.

  Much of the friction of old was my fault. I was a rebellious teen, and I saw him as the overprotective big bro. He wasn’t. I just didn’t want anyone telling me what to do.

  Not much had changed.

  On a positive note, I did get to say goodbye to Atticus. Granted, it was only a phone call. We didn’t really say much. I could tell he had a lump in his throat. He told me that he would miss me, talked about us getting together when I got back from Titan, and most importantly, we told each other those three words. I always loved him, I just wished I had put more effort into showing it.

  “We’re on a deadline, Sergeant, ahem, open the door,” Corvin ordered the guard as he stared at me.

  “Oh. Yes, sir. Got it, General,” the guard replied.

  I glanced toward Corvin. “He’s a, General?” I mumbled in confusion. Corvin seemed a bit lax compared to the top brass from my day. His personality reminded me more of a department store manager versus a high ranking military leader.

  The guard keyed in a code on the terminal in front of him. I heard the door unlock as it began to open.

  “An empty room?” I asked.

  “After you,” Drake said, extending his hand. I walked through the opening without hesitation, and no sooner than I passed through, a ship appeared in the middle of the hangar. It was an illusion, a hologram projecting an empty room.

  From here, I could see a black, wedged looking craft about fifty meters long in silhouette. Toward the rear of the craft were two massive tubes, which I assume were the engines. Drake and Corvin followed suit as the door closed behind us.

  “Look familiar?” Corvin narrowed his eyes at me. Suddenly, the hangar lights above the ship lit up.

  “XU-97? Looks nearly identical to my fighter,” I examined.

  “On your trip to Titan, you requested a XU-97 stored on the Orion for yourself, remember?” Corvin questioned.

  “I do,” I replied. That was part of my contract agreement. I wanted the option to leave Titan immediately after arrival.

  “Well, this is your XU-97, sort of. It’s heavily upgraded. Still a hybrid fighter-bomber, limited transport space, but it has serious dog fighting capabilities, far beyond yours. It’s been outfitted with more powerful thrusters, weapons, and superior stealth technology,” Corvin explained.

&nb
sp; “I’d hope so. It would have to be a relic by now. Wait. You think this will get us to Earth? How do the android’s detection sensors stack up against this ship? Has this been tested?” I asked.

  “Like he said. It’s heavily modified. Based on our intelligence, we’re faster than anything they have for one. For two, we’ve sent two drones and come within sixty-five hundred kilometers of Earth’s atmosphere using this same stealth tech without detection,” Drake said.

  “Drones? How large?” I asked.

  “About a fifth this size,” Corvin said.

  I chuckled. “So, you’re basically hoping this works, there’s not real evidence either way,” I said. Now it made sense what Arania said about my chances of surviving this mission.

  “To be fair, our drone deployments confirmed their sensor technology hasn’t advanced much. The androids seem to be using similar tech from around twenty-seventy. We think the motivation has shifted to production of their fleet. Sheer numbers,” Corvin explained.

  “Okay, so, where’s the rest of our numbers?” I panned around. Corvin glanced over at Drake with a puzzled look.

  “Fighter jets? Where are all the other fighters?” I asked. My voice echoed off the walls as I panned around.

  “We put our resources into this one craft, to make it mission capable. We’re very proud of it,” he replied.

  “So, if this goes bad, its one fighter against four hundred destroyers?” I shook my head.

  “We have a strategy. I’ll explain why later. For now, climb aboard, Captain,” Corvin directed. He seemed a bit annoyed by my line of questions.

  This wasn’t making sense. I had high hopes that their game plan would inspire me. So far, they were backing up my theory that they weren’t ready. While the jet sounded impressive, it wasn’t taking down four hundred destroyers, even with me at the helm. Hopefully, there was more to this.

  I hopped up on the ladder toward the cockpit. As my eyes reared over the glass, I could see Drake and Corvin staring at me in the reflection. I noticed Drake checking me out before he realized I could see him. He snapped his head away and scratched his head.

  The cockpit glass popped up automatically. “Welcome pilot,” a familiar female voice erupted from inside the cockpit.