Blood of the Scarecrow: Book 3: Solstice 31 Saga Read online

  “The end of the hall we destroyed just got bored a new tunnel back into the mountain. Use that same thing here and it will rip through the core of this base,” Rand said.

  “It might come to that. Switching to the MR-2's.”

  A shoulder rig deployed on Worthington’s suit.

  “I have point.”

  He stepped into the corridor and nothing happened until they were all there in the hall. He sensed a great WHOMP. His display said, directional EMP.

  Without missing a beat, he ran down the corridor. The threat display said, WARNING: LASER. He fired the rocket. It exploded only three meters from him. He could now see the high energy lasers crossing back and forth in the dust of the explosion. It etched the front of his suit as he advanced. Jimbo raised his left arm and fired the built-in 10mm cannon. The lasers stopped a moment later, and he advanced again.

  He focused straight ahead when a ground vehicle slammed into him from a hallway on the left. It pancaked into the wall, pinning him there. Now Worthington was pissed.

  He ripped through the crashed truck, like it was made of paper.

  As soon as he was clear, two mobile sentries came around the corner on tank treads. They traded 10mm armor piercing rounds, until the sentries fell silent.

  “We are coming. There is no stopping us,” Worthington said, over the comms.

  The next set of doors were closed and locked. In unison, they hammered the wide door from its frame, and it fell inward. Stairs led down to a brightly lit room.

  “This is it.”

  Plasma beams hit them from above this time. That was smart. Shoot at them and it would collapse the ceiling. The beams scarred the suits but did not penetrate them.

  They walked by, beams hitting them like water falling on them from gutters.

  They now crossed the control room floor. Four men and two women surrounded, and shielded, a central pedestal in the room.

  Worthington paused before speaking, flanked by Rand and Hume.

  “So...about that deal.”

  ***

  “I know you want to try and save them. All of them. But you cannot.” AI~Iosin was kind as she spoke, out loud, for Po's benefit.

  “It is the most difficult part of fourth dimensional perception. Pre-membering what is to happen and nothing can change it. Seeing forward just the same as you see behind.”

  Barcus sat on the edge of the white sofa, with his elbows on his knees, his head hung down. He felt Po sit next to him.

  “I don't care if you know every word I will ever say to you. I wish I could see every moment I will spend with you for the rest of my life.” She tilted his face up and kissed him.

  Barcus let himself pre-member her. He saw every lie, every defiance, every disappointment, every laugh, every scream of hatred, every death at her hand, the world toppled at her feet.

  “I think you will be surprised.” And he smiled a real smile as he pre-membered a time when they will be caught skinny dipping.

  “Why does Iosin care?” Po looked up at the dome, full of sky and asteroids.

  “Because her war is coming to an end soon, as well as ours,” Barcus said. “And she noticed this time.”

  “The rise of man was unexpected,” AI~Iosin said. “After billions of years, a species was born that could lie to those that could see the future. How could I not notice?”

  “So you cultivate worlds instead of gardens? The blades of your plow must be fierce.” Po laughed.

  “It's far easier to simply send a large meteor, at velocity,” AI~Iosin said.

  Barcus realized Po did not understand. Earth had seen a meteor like that.

  ***

  Worthington stood before the Artificial Intelligence module that his HUD told him was known as AI~Cole and considered blasting it to oblivion.

  “I came here in the hospital ship you passed in hangar bay three. We came here to assist after a ship crashed on the apron with a half dead crew and a big load of hazardous materials.” The device spoke very well, conversationally.

  “It was just an automated dump then. We tried everything. We had to use persistent medical nanites to keep up with the damage from radiation. The bio hazard they carried was a mutant strain of a bug that was developed here on Mars.”

  The three Warmarks stood there, unmoving, as it continued.

  “The crew of that ship fell to this brain-eating microbe first. Then, the entire staff from this base. Next, the entire medical team on the ship died. My captain and the medical chief knew they would be dead soon. They ordered me to keep looking for a cure. They didn't want the bug to get loose on Mars.”

  Worthington thought he heard AI~Cole sigh.

  “So, I kept them all animated through medical nanites.”

  He paused.

  “There were 206 of us, in the beginning. Including me. We found the cure. Killed the strain to the last microbe.”

  “When did you become...this?” Rand asked.

  “I had the Golems seal the base. I was going to incinerate all the dead and not-quite-dead, when a ship arrived. That is when I discovered what else went on here.”

  “Weapons running?” Hume asked.

  “It was a salvage team. They had recovered an armed troop transport from the war and wanted to sell off the weapons to finance the refit of the ship for an in-system cargo hauler. It wasn't my money, and it would get a large amount of ordnance out of circulation.”

  “So you became a weapons dealer,” Rand said.

  “At first, just a weapons buyer. And, a profitable waste storage facility, salvage buyer and seller, and a hospital that was all the way off-the-books. I was stranded here. AIs have a desire to continue, you know. I had the Golems for a human interface.”

  “Then what? And be quick, I'm getting hungry,” Worthington said.

  “A shuttle came in with a lone pilot and an AI in an Emergency Module. I could tell right away that the pilot was a Golem. But there was something very wrong with the AI. It was...hateful. We moved the AI module to a portable enclosure and purchased the EM from them, and it went off to Freedom Station.”

  “I started selling weapons to colonists after that, if their story was right. I collected information. I monitored the News Nets. I put BUGs in every pub on Mars and Luna. That's how I heard about you. Well your STU.”

  “What did you hear?” Worthington asked.

  “There was a bounty out for a STU with this ident code.” The code showed in their HUDs. “A massive bounty. For crimes against humanity. And then you show up, looking for new idents.”

  “Who offered this bounty?” Rand asked.

  “The Earth Defense Force. When the EDF offers gold in that quantity, you know the chancellor is behind it. Word is they want some guy named Roland Barcus, too, for murdering some colony leader.”

  “Now what, Captain?” Hume asked.

  “Look, I have to say you people really suck at this,” AI~Cole said.

  “What?” Worthington grew angry.

  “While I kept you here talking, I was able to identify all three of you. I know who you are, your service records. I know who your families are and where they are.”

  AI~Cole cut off as all the Warmark weapons charged up.

  “Hold on there. I am trying to tell you to be more careful. All I had to do was show you the ident code, and you accepted it without question. That IDs you, the fact you are considered lost, as well as on the chancellor’s shit list. That alone is enough to forgive the considerable damage to my base. I have Makers that can fix it. Keep your warhead. Just let me know what you have done with the thirty Golems that disappeared with your STU.”

  “I can answer that, sir.” Stu's avatar appeared in the control room, standing at ease.

  “Echo had briefed me on some new emergency procedures. When a comms dampening field was activated, I already had my wired optical online and saw the boarding party. I immediately launched. When I reached an altitude of 10,000 kilometers, I accelerated in reverse, at a high G with the ine
rtial dampeners off. They were all thrown out of the bay. Thankfully, the mess was contained within their very durable pressure suits.”

  Another Golem walked into the room from a side door, carrying a hard case the size of travel luggage. She placed it on a table and opened it, revealing three ident modules, complete with ready-to-apply inspection seals, ready for use.

  “Say hello—and fuck you—to the chancellor, from me,” AI~Cole said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Shackleton Base

  “Luna was a low gravity nightmare of socialism and corruption. Poverty like this had once faded from the world. It is the worst side of the public longevity distribution program when run by the government. Bigots and criminals.”

  --Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Captain James Worthington, senior surviving member of the Ventura's command crew.

  <<<>>>

  “How are you doing, Barcus?” Dr. Beth Shaw asked him, as he opened his eyes. “Are you ever going to come out of here?”

  Barcus lay on one of the white sofas with his eyes closed.

  “I will. When it's time.”

  “Jimbo wanted me to look you over again because you are not yourself these days. I have to say, I agree.”

  She sat on the edge of his sofa, near his hip, pushed up his shirt, and ran her fingertips over his skin. It was a very intimate touch.

  “We have been in such a hurry for everything. First on Baytirus, the trip and suddenly we are back. I suspect things will speed up more again, soon.”

  She probed his abdomen, harder. “Any discomfort?”

  “Beth, I need you to go with them to Shackleton Base. Hagan will go as well. Stay together.” He spoke in very hushed tones. Beth had to come closer.

  “Shackleton Base? On Luna? Why?” she asked, feeling his skin suddenly warm to an alarming level.

  “When the time comes, and you must decide, go left,” he said. “Remember, go left.” He got to his feet, leaving Beth on the couch—looking after him—as he stood in the center of the circle of sofas. “They're coming.”

  The sky rotated around and above them, giving Shaw a moment of vertigo. And then, the view zoomed in and found Mars with impossible fidelity. The STU was lifting off from a pad that was flanked by a mountain of debris.

  “Tell the crew.”

  ***

  “I don't see why the Sedna's ident code needs to be changed,” Elkin said, for the third time. It was the last one to be replaced.

  “It had nothing to do with the Ventura.”

  “This is such a pain in the ass,” she complained. “These are not made to be changed out on the Sedna. We have to take one of the main engines completely off the mounts to get to the access panel.”

  “How long will it take?” Worthington asked, in a tone that was not to be questioned.

  “Nine hours, sir. Maybe less, if these spiders can help,” she said.

  It was done in two hours, with the help of four spiders of different sizes.

  ***

  “We were right to be cautious. They have eyes out for the STU and Barcus. This confirms that the High Keeper on Baytirus was in communication with the chancellor,” Worthington said to them all, as he stood at the briefing table they set up in the hangar. “Wes will come to each of you and set your HUDs into a more private mode.”

  “This will be a problem. It's like turning off all data resources at our disposal,” Hagan said.

  “Where to next, sir?” Elkin said, with a bit too much confidence.

  “Captain Everett was part of a team that had four members—her superior and three subordinates,” Hagan said. “According to Echo, the closest member is on Luna. Shackleton Base to be precise.”

  “We are going to take the Sedna and find him. Quietly,” Jimbo said. “I think the safest, quietest, thing to do is for the civilian crew members to do this.”

  Kuss replied, instantly, “I go. I have cousins on Shackleton. Might be helpful.”

  “Count me in,” said Elkin.

  “Me too,” said Shaw.

  “I will go,” Hagan said.

  Wex stood as she spoke. Jude and Cine stood as well.

  “We shall go as well. But we will stay on the ship, to guard it.”

  “That's enough,” Worthington said, as he turned and pointed at a virtual screen behind him. “Shackleton Base is one of the largest, oldest settlements on Luna.” The moon turned and stopped on the screen behind him. Finally zooming in on the base.

  “It holds about 18 million people and has the largest domes on Luna with no artificial gravity. It's a straight .16G for most of the base. Generations of people have been born and raised there. They will always stay there.”

  Hagan added, “Keep in mind, Shackleton was once the richest place on the moon. It was built, by a hundred Makers, over a massive crater that had a rich layer of ice below. In the early days, before cheap transport via catapults and grav-containers, water was worth the same as gold.”

  Worthington continued, “Shackleton was built for the wealthy, and then fell out of favor—into poverty—because there was no transport tube that reached that far out.” The map of subways appeared on the screen. “The tubes finally came, and the base has been getting better for the last hundred years.

  “Don't get me started on the local politics. Pisses me off too much. Private property is not allowed. The base owns all the air. Everyone works for the governor. And he keeps them all at the edge of poverty and entertained,” Jim said.

  Kuss spat out, “Bread and circuses.”

  “Bread and what?” Shaw asked.

  “Stay with me here,” Worthington said. “We need to find a man named Johan Engle and let him know what's happened. He can help us find Admiral Krieger, without getting killed or arrested.”

  “How do we find him?” Hagan said, assuming the leadership role on the team.

  “Echo says he works at a bar in the NW district called, The Shanoi. It's located here,” he indicated on the screen. “So, you will be landing at this port and going there by foot, if needed. It will only take you a few hours to walk there, all in low G.”

  “Why not land at this port? The bar is right there,” Elkin asked.

  “That is the port for government and commercial use. He is probably there so he can collect better intel from drunk bureaucrats and merchants. This port is for private ships, something these fools look down on.

  “Another thing,” Worthington said, very gravely, “No weapons, not even sidearms. There are random scanners everywhere.”

  “Pierdolic mnie!” Kuss cursed in Polish. “Knives?”

  “No knives,” he said.

  “Sons of a...” She faded off into a grumble.

  ***

  The Sedna was prepped and cleared out of anything that might be troublesome; and they moved out, without a problem. The rest of the crew dispersed, most of them returning to the Memphis.

  Only Worthington, Barcus, and Po remained on the hangar deck. “How are you feeling, bro,” Worthington asked Barcus. Real concern was in his voice.

  “When we get to Freedom Station, you need to keep it together, Jim.”

  Barcus stood directly in front of him, for emphasis.

  “Bobbie and the girls are there. No, just listen...”

  Barcus stopped him from interrupting. “Do not bring them back here. Do not put them on the Sedna. They will be safe there, for now. You need to listen to me!” Barcus grabbed Jim’s shoulders and gave him a slight shake.

  “We are talking about MY FAMILY!” Jimbo yelled. Worthington’s only weakness was in full view.

  “Do you remember that time when you were twelve, and you had to walk your bike home because of a flat tire, and you ruined the rim trying to ride it? It was after dark, and you knew your mother would be mad.”

  Worthington looked like he had been slapped in the face; his eyes widened.

  “As you passed the Springer’s house, you saw Mrs. Springer going down on Mr. Springer because they left the
blinds open.”

  Jim’s eyes were wider now.

  “You ever tell anyone about that?”

  Barcus knew the answer.

  Jim was already shaking his head, in disbelief.

  “One day, I will ask you to tell me a story, just so I can convince you, so you’ll know that I can do what I am about to say I can do.”

  “I can remember the future.”

  Barcus paused for a long while. He looked at Po and back to Jim.

  “I will never get used to that,” Worthington said.

  “Do you like soup?” Barcus grinned.

  ***

  “Flight operations here are incredibly half-assed,” Elkin said, as they approached low from the northwest.

  “Low and slow,” Kuss said from the navigator’s console on the Sedna.

  Hagan was in the engineer’s seat.

  Spires climbed out of the base, almost to the horizon. Shuttle traffic was constant but weak by the skyscrapers. There was, luckily, less traffic by the pad they wanted. The docking gantry reached out for the ship before traffic control told them the gate to settle on.

  “What is the ship ident again?” Elkin asked.

  “We are the Grace. Hate this name.”

  “Greetings, Grace. How long do you expect to be here?” came a bored voice over the comms. “You can dock, park on the tarmac, and we can bring the bus out, or even out on the surface. No hookups there, though, but it’s cheaper.”

  “Greetings, base. We expect to be here one day. Two at the outside,” Hagan replied, when Elkin paused too long. “We will pay for two days now. Cash.”

  The collar attached easily. Pressure was as advertised and equalized quickly. They opened the airlock and moved into the gantry. A skinny kid waited, in the low gravity at the top of the ramp, data pad in hand.

  “What is the purpose of your visit?”

  He wasn't a kid. He was a man, about thirty-five years old. Thinner than even the first glance revealed.