Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)

by Joshua James

  “Really? You’re gonna give me what I want? I guess that’d save some bullets if you shoot yourself in the head.” Ben heard a loud roar. It came from outside the ship. The sound was jarring enough to take his attention away from the Pale Man, but only for a moment.

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s just some extra entertainment for your friends out there. They’re fighting valiantly—as your kind often does, I’m coming to find out. Some fight harder than others, have more, what do you call it...heart?”

  “Look, as much as I’d like to keep up this chat...” Ben backed up towards the exit of the command deck, the bridge, his gun still trained on the Pale Man. “It’s time for me to go.”

  “But you, Ben Saito. You have heart,” the Pale Man continued, as if Ben hadn’t spoken. “No matter what we throw at you, you just keep coming. Just like your father. Have you seen him lately? Have you seen his improvements?”

  The memory of what his father had become flashed through Ben’s mind. When the thing his father had become had tried to kill him after he’d crashed his fighter.

  “What did you do to him?” Ben asked.

  “We made him better. We made him into what he always had the potential to be. A perfect soldier. A perfect creature. I can offer you the same.” The Pale Man took one step towards Ben, then stopped.

  “What is it you want?” Ben asked. “Other than to kill as many people as you can?”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Right now, what I want is your help.”

  “With what?” Ben asked. “I’ve seen what your kind is capable of. I doubt you need my help to do anything.”

  “A woman. A powerful human in your circles,” the Pale Man said. “She took something from us here on this useless planet. A rock, to the uneducated eye. Get it for me, bring it to me, and I’ll give you what your heart desires.”

  A rock. All this for a damn rock? “Yeah, I’m gonna have to go with no deal on that.”

  Ben fired every last incendiary round in his lone magazine. Each one hit the Pale Man. The Shapeless didn’t fall, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. At least, not for a few seconds.

  Burnt parts of the Pale Man’s body fell off him like smoldering coagulated oil. His face, still burning ghoulishly, smiled as he slowly moved forward towards Ben, but he didn’t give any indication that he was going to attack.

  “Come join us, Ben. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.”

  “What could you possibly give me?” Ben asked as he backed up. He needed time to figure something else out. He’d never seen a Shapeless shrug off those rounds.

  “Other than your father back?” The Pale Man held out one arm to his side. It turned into a black oil-like substance and fell into a puddle on the floor. Despite that floor being grated, nothing spilled through. Instead, out of the black oil rose the figure of a woman. That figure quickly turned into the spitting image of Ben’s mother, Beverly Saito.

  Ben lowered his rifle. This time more than one tear spilled out. He cried as she walked up to him. She put her soft, warm hand on his cheek. She even smelled like his mother.

  A violent explosion outside made the walls around Ben shudder. He stumbled for his footing, then pushed Beverly away. He turned and ran for the exit.

  “That’s okay, Ben,” shouted the Pale Man after him. The first explosion was followed by another and another. “We’ll meet again.”

  Ben glanced back one last time. The Pale Man was engulfed in an explosion that he knew was from the high explosive he’d set earlier.

  The Pale Man burned at last.

  But he still smiled.

  Ten

  Hard Times

  “It isn’t a coincidence,” said Detective Kimberly Janis. “I’m telling you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Sydal. He and Janis sat in Al’s Diner, a staple of the Lunar Market District. He didn’t know why he’d ordered a burger and fries. He wasn’t hungry.

  “A couple of poor assholes get killed on their docks, and then they suddenly uproot and get the hell off of this rock?” Janis said. “That sounds like running.” Crumbs from her Reuben dribbled down the table as she talked. She had no issues with her appetite. In Sydal’s experience, she scarfed down every meal like it was her last. How she stayed so tiny was a mystery, and probably one of the reasons most of the other women in the precinct didn’t like her.

  “Listen to yourself,” Sydal said. “Waterman-Lau, one of the largest employers in the galaxy, is going to freak out over a couple of routine deaths at one of their myriad docks?”

  “It wasn’t a planned relocation. That’s what I hear,” Janis said with a shrug, before taking another enormous bite.

  It’d been three months since Sydal got a call to come out to the Waterman-Lau docks on two homicides that remained unsolved. In those three months, the company had shocked the entire system when they’d canceled all contracts and ceased lunar operations.

  “Who knows what that even means? Did you actually hear this from someone at Waterman-Lau?”

  “Can’t say I ever had the pleasure of speaking to any of them folks personally,” answered Janis, mouth still full of food. “That honor will remain yours alone.”

  “Shifty as hell,” Sydal said flatly. “All they do is talk in circles, give you corporate-speak and answers vetted by their damn lawyers.”

  “Well, yeah,” Janis said. “Obviously.”

  “Yeah, but…I don’t know. It felt like they were dodging my questions, and they weren’t even pointed questions. I was just fishing. Like they had something to hide even before they knew what they were hiding.” A waitress came over with Sydal’s third cup of coffee. “Thank you, hon.”

  “Excuse me, detectives.” The waitress was a middle-aged woman who looked like life hadn’t treated her too well.

  “What is it, Irma?” asked Janis. She’d gone to Al’s her whole life. Unlike Sydal, she’d been born and raised on Earth’s moon.

  “I don’t…I hate having to ask this and bother you, you know? But I gotta ask. See, I got kids and grandchildren here. Should we be worried? With all that’s going on out there, the company leaving and everything. Things just seem...I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

  Sydal thought Irma was justifiably concerned. In the wake of Waterman-Lau’s sudden departure from Earth’s moon, tens of thousands were without jobs. No jobs, no income, and no support net on the moon. Things were getting ugly fast. The moon had never had much of an independent economy relative to Earth, but now what little there was had completely cratered in the span of a couple of months.

  When twenty thousand workers living paycheck-to-paycheck lose their jobs, things tend to go sideways fast. A lot of ex-Waterman-Lau employees had to survive on their savings. More and more people were sleeping on the streets of the Lunar Dome. Most couldn’t afford a flight back to Earth even if they wanted one, not that Earth was exactly excited about the prospect of a bunch of unemployed moonies.

  Others volunteered for risky colonization and explorer jobs that would take them to the edges of known space. Crime was rampant, and getting moreso by the day. Gang lords like that ugly bastard Josef “The Hammer” Linderman were growing more powerful than lunar officials.

  “It’ll be fine, Irma. Just keep your kids off the street and always take public transit. The more out in the open you are, the less likely you’ll be a victim,” said Sydal. “Do you have a gun?”

  Irma’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “But we leave it in the safe mostly.”

  Sydal nodded. “Well, if you’re worried, have it with you. That’s what I’d suggest.”

  Irma looked she might pass out as she shuffled away.

  Janis rolled her eyes. “Should’ve been a doctor. Never seen better bedside manner.”

  “What?” Sydal took a sip of his coffee. “It’s the truth. No reason to sugarcoat it. We don’t leave our apartment without a weapon anymore.”

  “Yeah, but...I mean
, you could’ve lied to her.” Janis chewed on a wad of fries. “She’s a little old lady.”

  “She’s got eyes and ears. Look out that window,” Sydal said. Outside, on the streets next to the diner, were tents, sleeping bags, and cardboard shelters.

  “Same shit we’ve been seeing for a little while now.”

  “Same shit she’s been seeing, too. Like I said, there’s no point in lying to her.” Sydal took another sip of coffee. “And anyway, you’re the conspiracy theorist, remember?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You tell me,” Sydal said. He really had no idea; he just didn’t have a witty response.

  Janis rolled her eyes.

  “What do you have on the agenda today?” Sydal asked to change the subject.

  “Me? Dunno. I still got to go over those recordings we took of the Simmons interviews. See if there were any holes in their stories that we missed. Then I gotta go see Harris in Vice. He said he’s got a series of murders on the dark side.”

  “Yeah, heard about those. Freaked Maria out. She said it was too close to home.”

  “The missus will be fine. She’s a soldier, for God’s sake.” Janis went back to work on the remains of her sandwich.

  “I’ll worry about who I want to worry about, thank you very much. And I’m worried about the kids, mostly.”

  Janis seemed to mull that over. “Didn’t think about that. I forget about what you family people have to concern yourselves with.”

  “We can’t all be happily single.”

  “Your loss,” Janis said.

  Sydal knew for a fact that half her stories were shit. She just liked to bust his balls.

  “When the hell are you gonna move out of the dark side?” Janis asked. “That’s…look, it’s not my place to say, but is that really where you want to raise your kids? In the dark, the seedy-ass, criminal-infested dark?”

  “Where would we move?” Sydal asked. “Riddle me that.”

  “Good point. You looked into crater living?”

  “I can’t afford that shit. Anyways, who would want to live out in the middle of nowhere? When all this does finally go to hell, I wanna be as close as possible to a shipyard, get the hell off this damn rock.” Sydal finished his coffee. It didn’t take him long.

  “True. But I heard it’s pretty out there, got a clear view of the ol’ Mother Earth. Plus, none of this shit.” She nodded outside.

  Sydal was about to remind her that he’d still work in the middle of all this shit when he saw two men, dressed in fairly raggedy black clothing and ponchos, approach one of the tents just outside.

  Janis followed his eyes. “That ol’ nose of yours sniffing something?”

  “It’s nothing,” Sydal said. He pressed his index finger against the scanner on the table. With that, he authorized credits being taken out of his account for coffee and a little tip for Irma. Then he slid across the artificial leather seats and stood up. “See ya later. I gotta run.”

  “You better. I’m not planning on solving those Vice murders all on my own.”

  “Call me when you’re heading down. I’ll meet you there.” Sydal grabbed his hat and coat and made for the exit.

  “Trust me, I will!” Sydal heard Janis yell after him as he left.

  Immediately upon leaving the diner, he was hit with a wave of lunar dome smells: human body odor, waste, and recycled air. He tried to ignore it, and kept his eyes on the men in black. He could see now that there was a family in the tent. He couldn’t tell if they were harassing them, or if it was just a discussion. Something about it was off.

  “Gum? Candy?” Sydal was stopped halfway across the street by a kid selling candy, standing right in front of him.

  “No thanks, kid,” Sydal said as he tried to walk around the child merchant. But the kid was persistent, and stepped again into his path. “Can you move?”

  “You can’t help them,” replied the kid.

  Sydal’s focus had been across the street, but now he looked down at the kid. “What’d you just say?”

  Sydal heard a woman scream. Instinctively, he knew exactly where it was coming from. He brushed the kid aside as he pulled his sidearm. One of the men in raggedy black had grabbed one of the families’ kids, a little girl, and ran. The other punched the father in the face as he tried to get up to protest and try to save his child.

  “Hold it right there!” yelled Sydal, pointing his firearm downward as he approached.

  The man who’d punched the father turned to Sydal and charged. Sydal hit him in the chest with a stunner before he’d taken two steps. It delivered a big enough electric shock to knock the bastard out cold.

  The kidnapper had taken off running with the little girl in his arms. Sydal heard the mother’s cries behind him as he took off in pursuit. But catching the bastard was going to be tough, since the Lunar Market District was packed with people.

  “HUD! Tag that son of a bitch!” yelled Sydal before he lost sight of the kidnapper. His HUD did as ordered, floating a red glowing tag above the kidnapper’s head.

  Frustration threatened to overwhelm Sydal as he pushed through the market crowds. On several occasions he had to squeeze between people. One poor guy got run over.

  Sydal’s shoes weren’t ideal for a chase. They were regular business dress shoes, as common for detectives as their suits. Lunar authorities insisted on the formal wear to distinguish them and their rank from normal cops. The shoes were crap, though. The floors and streets of the lunar dome were old, well-worn, and somewhat slick. He fell a couple of times during his chase. But fueled by a large influx of caffeine and the desire to save the kidnapped child, he kept going.

  Sydal chased the kidnapper down to the Lunar Market District bus stop. It was an enclosed station because when the transport bus came, unprotected by the dome, air pressure would need to equalize and the breathable atmosphere go undisturbed. With kid in hand, the man in the black poncho slammed on the button to open the bus stop and stepped inside.

  As Sydal approached the stop, he couldn’t understand what the kidnapper’s plan was. Surely he wasn’t going to try and escape via transport? All he would have to do was call in the thruster bus number, and lunar police would take him at the next stop. Or they’d just send a robot interceptor out to grab it, and that would be that.

  Sydal waited for the civilians to flee the stop. Then he walked up to the doors, but he didn’t go in. The kidnapper held the little girl up with what looked to be some kind of homemade knife to her throat.

  Tread lightly. It looks like he’s one of those damn cultists. Who knows what the hell he’s gonna do?

  With a closer look, albeit through smudged, dirty bus stop glass, Sydal at last saw what he was dealing with. He’d heard stories of the Oblivion cultists, of course. Like everyone else on the moon, he watched and read stories about the terrorist cult that was causing all manner of chaos and destruction on Earth. But the cancer hadn’t spread to the moon.

  At least, not until now.

  Sydal pressed the button to open the door to the bus stop. He did so with his free hand up and empty, making sure the kidnapper could see that he didn’t have a gun in his hand. “There’s no need to do this. Just give me the girl,” he said.

  “Leave your weapon outside.”

  Sydal removed his pistol and set it on the ground.

  “In,” the man said.

  “I’ll stay out, if it’s all the same to you.” Sydal wasn’t about to lock himself in that bus stop without a weapon.

  The cultist stared at Sydal. He didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t seem outwardly emotive at all. That unnerved Sydal a bit. The fact that the running didn’t seem to have left him the least bit winded was also troublesome. Sydal was still catching his breath.

  “Just give me the girl,” Sydal said. “There’s nowhere left to run. There’s more cops on the way, and the bus ain’t coming.” It was a bluff, but he didn’t expect the cult weirdo to know that. “So you might as
well just give me the girl. I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly. This is the moon, not Earth. There won’t be a military tribunal. Trust me.”

  “Detective Rowan Sydal,” the cultist said with no preamble.

  Sydal was stunned. He knew he didn’t know the man. He cocked his head. “How do you know my name?”

  “They said that you’d try to save this poor creature,” the cultist said. He pressed the knife a little further into the girl’s throat, just barely drawing blood. “They said you would try and stop me.”

  “Stop you from doing what? You haven’t done anything yet. Nothing that you can’t come back from. Just give me the girl and we can talk.”

  “You can’t save me, Detective, or this little one. You can’t give me what I want. So you might as well stop negotiating.” The cultist kidnapper’s eyes were wide, bloodshot, almost crazed. “Just accept it.”

  Sydal considered picking up his pistol. He could feel in his bones that this wasn’t going to end well. If it wasn’t for the kid, he would’ve simply put a hole in the kidnapper’s head, and that would be that. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option here. “What do you want?” he asked.

  “The cold, loving embrace of the Abyss.”

  “The what? You’re not making any sense. I can help you if you just—”

  With lightning speed, the kidnapper entered an override code on the door that led out to the lunar surface.

  “No!” Sydal fell to his knees and picked up his pistol. He was able to squeeze off one shot before the doors to the moon’s surface opened, but it didn’t hit anything. With the change in atmosphere, the man and the little girl were sucked out into the vacuum. Sydal was almost pulled out as well, but he managed to grab the edges of the door that led to the bus stop. Two seconds later, the emergency doors slammed down, and the atmosphere was reestablished.

  Sydal knew what he was going see when he ran over to the windows of the dome to look out on the surface. That didn’t make it any easier. He looked on hopelessly as the man and little girl slowly floated down to the moon’s surface as dead human popsicles. Other citizens started to gather around the area, alerted by the sirens that had blared as soon as those doors opened.