Saturnius Mons (Ruins of Empire Book 1)

by Jeremy L. Jones

  Viekko stopped eating. “Which is why the forest turned to baas the minute Laban shut them down.”

  Cronus nodded. “It also explains my illness earlier. My body reacted poorly to the microorganisms in the atmosphere.”

  “But the refineries have been off for a long time, haven’t they?” asked Althea. “And who knows what bloody idiocy Laban and his goons were up to there. Can they fix it in time?”

  Isra watched as Halifaco sat down. “All the more reason we must be successful here. Cronus, are you ready?”

  Cronus pulled the goggles off and looked at her with dead eyes. It was as if all the joy and purpose had been sucked out of his body and Isra was responsible.

  “Are we going to have a problem?” Isra hissed.

  Cronus shook his head. “No. No problem. You command. I follow. As you ask.”

  Isra looked back at The Houston and Halifaco’s table. “He is wrapping up. Remember, just like we talked about.”

  Cronus nodded obediently. “Simple so everyone can understand. Explain the meaning of the thing, not just the function. The spirit behind the body.”

  “Close enough,” said Isra, standing up. “It is time to go now.”

  Isra walked to the table and shook hands with both Halifaco and the Houston. It was all mechanical and staged. On earth there would be photographers and holo-lenses capturing the moment so the entire world could watch and feel good about it. She walked in front of the table and nodded at Cronus. She could feel heavy resistance in his words and his actions but he did what he was told.

  Cronus spoke and Isra translated for the room. “We have learned much from this world. Not only about its people and the creatures that roam the surface, but about the deep mysteries from a time long gone by. What you call the Kompanio created the world. Before them, Titan was a cold, barren moon. The life you see around you was made possible by those people and everything they built serves that balance.

  “I have found the complete instructions of the Kompanio. A way to maintain and improve the refineries. It is all connected. The City, the refineries, the forest, and the people that live among them. Destroy one, you destroy each other, and you destroy yourselves.”

  Cronus bowed stiffly and went back to his table. He played his part well enough. Better than Isra expected.

  She turned and walked back behind the table, stood in between the Houston and Halifaco, and held out two black disk-shaped objects. “We give this knowledge to both your people. In hopes that you will use it to learn and grow together. Revive your world, restore balance, and live together.”

  Halifaco and the Houston both stood to receive the gift from Isra. The room gradually erupted into a dull roar of half-hearted applause.

  Althea rose and walked to where Isra was standing. She handed Isra two hand-sized communicators. Isra turned to the two rulers and held them out. “These connect to our communication network. If you should need or want to speak with us for any reason, you may.”

  Both men took the devices, clasping Isra’s arm as they did. Isra smiled and bowed to both the Houston and Halifaco, then returned to her seat. She sat hard, slumped down and knew that it was not enough. It was never going to be enough. At best they delayed the coming conflict.

  Or maybe not. As Isra sat and watched the Houston and Halifaco embrace, she couldn’t help but feel doubt pricking at the base of her spine. She couldn’t help but think that, somehow, she had just made everything so much worse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I can only imagine the pride the soldiers on the battle lines felt the day the Corporation was brought to its knees or the intense sense of patriotism as the old Earth governments rose from irrelevance to lead their people against global oppression. Young soldiers must have felt an immense sense of hope and accomplishment as they looked on a new world they helped build.

  Likewise I can’t begin to understand the despair of an entire world watching all that they had created dashed to pieces in only a few years.

  -from The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe.

  The team emerged one by one from the forest onto the pebbly beaches of the Ligeia Mare. They traveled on foot electing to leave all the supply crates behind except for one. Viekko and Althea lugged the green metal container containing most of the peasant guns between them. It was a small concession and useless in Viekko’s mind. There were still a few unaccounted for and the dead marines had been stripped of their weapons. Firearm warfare had arrived on Titan and things were never going to be the same. The best they could hope for was that they’d use up all the ammunition and be forced back to hitting one another with sticks.

  Still, when Viekko saw the waves lapping at the shore of the Titanian sea and breathed that foul-smelling chemical air, he felt a sense of relief. One might even call it joy. Okay, maybe it was the extra dose of ’T’ he stole, but things were good in other ways too. Cronus no longer needed the breather and he marched beside the crate, chattering at the group about what he found in that archaic computer. Althea humored him with feigned interest. Even Isra marched at the head of the group with a peasant gun slung over her shoulder and a slight self-satisfied smile on her face. She didn’t even tell Cronus to shut up once. They all walked along the beach together like a band of soldiers returning from assignment.

  As Viekko continued to watch the landscape pass, he was reminded that they didn’t succeed so much as they didn’t fail as spectacularly as they could have. Viekko remembered being awestruck by the beauty of Titan when they first made their way to the City. The dense foliage was awash with dark greens accented by vibrant flowers of all colors. Now, everything was muted. The leaves high in the trees that once looked wide enough for Viekko to use as a hammock hung shriveled and low to the ground. Flowers were few and their color was nowhere near as vivid. Bright greens gave way to dull yellows and dark browns and the air was overwhelmed with decay and rot.

  Viekko took some slight comfort in the fact that soon Titan would be just another speck in the vast blackness of space. And, yes, the people who lived here would most likely go back to their indiscriminate slaughter, but the land would recover to its former beauty and return to a magnificence that would last long after the last human drew breath. It wasn’t exactly a happy ending, but it was one Viekko could live with.

  They made good time without the extra equipment and were nearing the base camp within a few hours. Viekko set down the crate. “We should hold up a moment.”

  Isra stopped. “What is wrong?”

  Viekko unholstered one of his guns, popped the clip out, and unloaded the chamber. “That camp is likely to be agitated. Don’t wanna give them any reason to get the wrong impression about us.”

  Isra looked hard at the temporary buildings of the base camp just beyond the water. “They lost a significant portion of their military power, but a small group would not be a threat to them.”

  Viekko opened the crate and tossed the gun and clip in. It rattled on top of the peasant guns piled inside. “All the same, don’t want to give those fellows a reason to shoot first and ponder their reasonin’ later. Your gun please.”

  Isra unstrapped the rifle from her shoulder and handed it to Viekko.

  Viekko placed it with the others. “Your med bag, Althea. And your pack Cronus.”

  Althea tossed her black medical bag in immediately, but Cronus hesitated. “There is so much left there. So much we do not know. When we return, if we return, it could be lost forever.”

  Isra touched his shoulder. “Let it go, Cronus. Have faith in people.”

  He unstrapped the large pack on his back and crammed it in with the guns.

  When they were all disarmed and unencumbered, Viekko and Althea lifted the crate again while Isra and Cronus walked in front.

  Viekko didn’t know what to expect: a base in the grip of full evacuation or a small fortified compound holding onto the last sliver of land they yet controlled. Either would have made sense. But what he
saw when they emerged into the clearing did not.

  Every man and woman, whether they had signed up with the Corporate marines or not, was now in uniform. They stood in perfect formation while four or five officers walked in between the lines inspecting the troops. Engineers, scientists…hell, by the looks of things they even dragged the cooks out of the mess halls and gave them a gun. Everyone in the line stood at attention with the solemn face of the condemned.

  The group’s arrival set off the entire base like a hornet’s nest kicked down the stairs. A few officers shouted orders and the entire formation dissolved. Every soldier ran to their position.

  “Everyone just stay calm,” said Viekko dropping his end of the crate. “Nothin’ sudden.”

  Althea dropped hers and stood with her hands raised. “You weren’t kidding when you said ‘likely to be agitated’.”

  Viekko watched the whole formation of soldiers surround them with guns raised. “To be honest, this is just a touch more agitated than I was expectin’.”

  Once all the soldiers were in the circle surrounding them, an officer walked out of the ranks. “You all have a lot of guts coming back here. Make sure they are disarmed and bind their hands. All of them.”

  Soldiers broke from the circle and went to carry out the officer’s orders. One tried to pull Isra’s hands behind her but she shook out of his grasp. “This is uncalled for. We are not an assault force. We are representatives of the Ministry and we are here to see Vince Laban.”

  The officer sneered. “Don’t you worry, he wants to see you too. It’s the only reason we don’t take you out to the forest, beat you with rods and leave you to feed the local wildlife.”

  “What the hell does Laban want with us?” demanded Viekko.

  “Couldn’t say. But he was very insistent.”

  Viekko stood defiant as a marine pulled the plastic piece that tightened the cuffs while another patted him down for weapons. He laughed. “I’d be careful if I was you. We ain’t exactly under Corporation jurisdiction and you can get into a heap of trouble messin' with Ministry officials. Tell ‘em Isra.”

  Isra winced as a marine tightened her own cuffs. “Titan is not recognized as settled territory which means it is neutral ground. If we are under arrest, then the charges must go through—”

  The officer cut her off. “Perhaps you haven’t heard. That’s okay. Laban is waiting to fill you in.” A couple of soldiers opened the crates and the officer examined the contents. “And with this kind of contraband, charges will come easy enough.”

  Viekko lunged forward. “Titan don’t belong to you. Not as long as that city still stands.”

  The officer didn’t budge. “Yes, well, that may be a temporary inconvenience. But that’s for a conclave to decide. But if you are all smart, it won’t get that far. Laban wants to make a deal.” He spoke to his troops. “Take these people to Laban. And secure this contraband in the armory.”

  Laban’s office was just one of the dozens of dome-shaped structures that dotted the base camp. Through the door, Viekko entered a strange, overpowering warmth. The EROS suit masked the perpetual cold of Titan, but any exposed skin tingled in the air. Viekko had grown used to that feeling and its absence felt unnatural. The structure was relatively large compared to the others but was so crammed with dark, expensive wooden furniture that it had a claustrophobic feel to it. There were several plush chairs, small tables, and bookshelves crammed with more books than one could read on a year’s long expedition. Laban himself sat behind a desk large enough for Viekko to lay on and heavy enough that he would strain to lift it even in Titan’s gravity. Whole cities on Earth could be powered for a decade with the energy it took to carry all this to Titan and back. But Vince Laban was a Corporate man and no expense was too great when it came to demonstrating superiority, wealth, and a genuine spirit of true excess. The fact that millions back on Earth starved and died in the cold was just another impressive line on the expense ledger.

  Laban stood up with that same omnipresent smile as soldiers lead Viekko, Althea, Isra and Cronus into the room. “Welcome. Please have a seat.”

  Viekko struggled against the bonds. “Some might find that difficult with their hands strapped behind ‘em.”

  Laban sat in a chair that was just a little gilding away from being a throne. “Well I’m afraid we must have a rather difficult conversation. But if you wouldn’t mind someone standing by to keep things civil, we can make you more comfortable.”

  Viekko glanced at Isra who nodded slightly. A marine walked behind them waving a small metal tab near the plastic cuffs. As he passed by, the bonds released and fell to the ground.

  “Please, have a seat,” said Laban, gesturing to the chairs lined up in front of the desk.

  Two marines entered and stood by the door shouldering automatic weapons. A third gathered the shackles and took a place near Laban’s desk. While they did, Laban pretended to busy himself on some kind of built-in screen. He tapped icons and swept his hand across it as if he were reading some document. Finally he looked up, steepled his hands and smiled. “I have to say, I’m a little surprised to see you.”

  Before Viekko could answer, Isra said exactly what he was thinking. “We heard you were doing something immensely stupid. We had no choice but to come see for ourselves.”

  Laban let a chuckle escape. “Charming as always, Miss Jicarrio. I’m assuming you are referring to the next step of our military campaign. Let me assure you that it isn’t so foolish as you make it seem.”

  Isra cocked her head mimicking the same polite, condescending smile as Laban. “Well, maybe not immensely stupid. Perhaps just unfathomably idiotic.”

  “Perhaps we should discuss why I called you here in the first place.” He tapped some keys just to the side of his desk and a hologram appeared.

  Viekko recognized it instantly. He didn’t understand it any better but he’d seen it enough times. “Hey Cronus, that looks a lot like the pictures of the refineries you found.”

  Cronus didn’t say anything, he just sunk in his chair looking guiltier than an adulterer in church.

  Isra glared at Laban with an awful hatred. “Where did you get that?”

  Laban shrugged. “That is not the issue at the moment. Allow me to show you what is.” He tapped a few keys and the hologram zoomed in through the pipes and machinery until it displayed eight tanks in a row. They were pulsing red in a way that could not signal anything good.

  Cronus catapulted himself out of the chair with a speed and suddenness that Viekko didn’t think the little man physically capable of. He leaned over the desk with his face so close to the hologram that pictures swirled around his head. “This… what have you done?”

  “It is not what we have done,” said Laban, his voice taking a slight annoyed edge. “Rather, if we were to blame anyone specifically, it would be you and the riot you incited against our people. We shut down the outlets to transfer the refined hydrocarbons within the complex so we could continue to extract pure, refined fuels, but we never got to finish the job. The pressure is building in these storage tanks and volatile chemicals are backing up all over the system. Not just these tanks specifically, but all over the complex. I’m afraid the whole refinery is becoming a bomb just waiting for a trigger. It is in no immediate danger but, given the explosive nature of the fuels being produced, it has become a top concern of the Corporation.”

  Viekko folded his arms. “They ain’t yours anymore. We kicked your pasty white rump outta there.”

  Again, Laban chuckled. “The pallor of my posterior notwithstanding, as you might have assumed when you arrived, we have every intention of reclaiming the refineries. That is where you will prove useful. Your rather blunt description is not entirely incorrect, Viekko. The native people of this planet have been able to resist far more than we assumed they would be able to. I am confident that the Corporation marines will triumph, but I wish to bring this situation to a speedy conclusion. Therefore, I am asking that you share what you know
of the people of Titan.”

  Althea snorted in a humorless laugh. “Why would we even consider helping you?”

  Laban leaned back in his chair. “Why, it’s the most logical choice for you to make at this point.”

  Viekko and Isra exchanged glances and he knew without speaking that the same question on his mind was also on hers. Laban’s army was crushed. His mission was in complete disarray. So why did he act like he just won? Isra studied him a moment. “You will have to explain the logic behind that statement.”

  Laban steepled his fingers again. “My mistake. I assumed as a respected diplomat in the Ministry, you had a basic understanding of Corporation laws. Without going into too many details, your situation is this: We have proof that you not only allied with enemy combatants, but actively participated in armed terrorist actions. We have holo-vids of you both actually taking up arms and killing Corporation military personnel. Not to mention that little payload you brought into camp. Since you are all subject to Corporation rule that makes you all guilty of treason, which means you are all under arrest until you can be brought to Earth to stand trial.

  Laban stood up and started pacing in front of his audience. His hand gestures accented the haughty tone in his voice, “But luckily, despite your egregious actions, I’m a forgiving man. Furthermore, I still support your mission at its core. I think I can convince a conclave that what you did was part of an overall covert action campaign. Of course, for that to work, you’ll need to help us.”