Covenant

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Covenant Page 4

by Andreas Christensen


  How different a world it would have been if the Youth Revolution on the Moon hadn’t occurred prior to the Descent, when the Moon people returned to Earth. It was a part of the Moon people’s history that would have been too ugly for an outsider to fathom had he not been around to hear the daily reports, the sheer desperation and then the icy determination in the voice that one day replaced the one he’d been so used to. He could only imagine how it must have been. This genocide inflicted upon their own parents, their friends and families. He wondered what he would have done, had he been there. Would he have been alive long enough to prove his worth to the young mass murderers? Would they even have listened, had he not been thousands of kilometers away?

  The revolution had made the Moon people into an abomination. It had taken their strongest attributes and made them into something ugly. Now, he often asked himself if the Covenant had, indeed, become something much worse than those who ruled before the Fall. Reforms from within seemed impossible, but perhaps young Hordvik could change that?

  If there only was a way to save Sue. But she was being held captive, and as soon as the last enemy pockets were subdued, he expected First Janissary Ivanov to go south to claim her. The Whipmaster, head of the Corpus, would be all too happy to oblige, since the two were known to be close associates. No, if Mark was to have any hope of rescuing her, it would have to be before that time.

  He looked up at all the people around him, familiar faces all of them. Men and women who, like himself, had exceeded all previously assumed limits of longevity. Rulers all, from families rooted deep in the blood-soaked dust of Luna. All considering themselves to be superior to the English, to the Earthbound.

  He looked at them, and an idea began to form in the back of his mind.

  A smile crept forth in the corner of his mouth. As hopeless as the situation seemed, Mark knew that there would never be a better time than right now. He excused himself and walked briskly out of the room, knowing that he might be too late already. If he wasn’t, this might be his last chance.

  Renee

  A child came running up to her, and Renee saw the terror in her eyes, and the tears welling up, while the kid fought to hold it back.

  “Please, miss, can you help? My mother is very sick. Please, please,” the child said. She couldn’t have been more than six, and Renee had to struggle to hold despair at bay.

  “What’s your name?” she said, squatting while she dreaded what she would have to tell the girl.

  “It’s Caroline...”

  “Okay, Caroline, I’m so, so sorry. There’s nothing I can do. All we can do is hope she gets through the worst of it. I bet your mama’s strong, I bet she’s fighting hard,” she said. Too harsh, she realized, but there were so many, and with radiation sickness, there was nothing she could do. The poor doctor did what he could, but he didn’t have the supplies that could have helped some of them. For most though, it was only a question of how bad their exposure had been. If it was bad enough, it was only a question of time.

  “No, no, miss, you don’t understand. It isn’t the radio... radiation sickness. She’s a diabetic, and she needs insulin.”

  “Have you seen the doctor?”

  The girl shook her head.

  “I couldn’t find him,” she said.

  Renee thought for a second. Then she took Caroline’s hand and led her through the camp. Soon, they reached a makeshift lean-to, and Renee bent down to see inside. Sure enough, there he was.

  “Doctor!” she said. “Doctor, you must come, now.”

  The doctor stirred, and looked up to her, dark rings under bloodshot eyes, and red lines across the side of his face, where he had lain. He looked at his watch.

  “Look, Colonel, I really need to sleep. I almost killed a patient an hour ago. I’ve been running on fumes for two days now, and if I don’t get some sleep...” He trailed off as the girl stuck her head forward.

  “What?” he said.

  “It’s my mama, she’s really sick,” she said. The doctor got a pained look on his face.

  “I’m so, so sorry... But...”

  “It’s diabetes,” the girl said, interrupting his apologies.

  “She needs insulin, or she will die. She didn’t have time to bring any when we fled, and now she’s barely awake.” Renee thought Caroline was impressive, the way she explained it so quickly and accurately to the doctor.

  “Insulin?” the doctor said, and began rummaging around.

  “Well, I’ll be... There it is.” He got his bag and crawled out from his shelter.

  “Which way?” he said. Caroline pointed them in the right direction, and they all ran together. Soon they reached a large tree, where an overhanging branch offered a modicum of shelter. A woman lay next to the trunk, half-dozing. Renee knew enough about diabetes to recognize that if this woman didn’t get her insulin, she would fall into a coma, and more than likely die. Type one was the nastier one, always had been.

  The doctor took out a small vial and prepared a syringe. There had been more sophisticated methods of delivering the life-sustaining medicine, but under these conditions, this was the only thing available. The doctor gave Caroline’s mother the shot and sat down, leaning his back to the trunk. He looked up at Renee and Caroline, who stood side by side, watching.

  “You know...” he said, addressing Renee. “So many have died from radiation sickness, and still more will. I have no iodine, never did have much, anyway. Didn’t have much use for it back home. What I did have, though, were a lot of diabetic patients.” He turned toward the girl and smiled.

  “So I have enough insulin in my bag to last your mother for a long, long time.” Renee smiled, as well, when she saw the look of relief on Caroline’s face. Her mother would be fine.

  “And once we get to Buchanan, that’s not going to be a problem, anymore,” she said. The girl leapt forward and hugged the doctor, and he seemed to be taken by surprise. Renee laughed then.

  She sat down to keep the girl company while they waited for her mother to wake up. Caroline snuggled into her lap, and together they sat, waiting. She looked over at the doctor, about to tell him he could go get some sleep, when she realized the doctor had already fallen asleep. She smiled to herself. With so much death and dying, they had saved a life today. And it felt good.

  Sue

  Sue stared at the dead body of the man she had only known for a few hours as Bill. He’d been friendly enough the one time they had spoken, and she had appreciated it at the time. That was this morning. Now he lay on his bunk, skin pale, eyes closed, and lying on his side, as if he were sleeping. She had already checked his pulse twice. Each time, the result was the same. He had talked about the fumes, the poisonous gases down in the mines, and now, after having spent a day down there herself, she believed that in the end, it had killed him.

  It was worse than she had imagined, but for now, she chose to focus on Bill. Somebody had to. On every bunk and even on the floor, there were people. Some were eating, others were trying to get some sleep, and others again were talking in hushed voices so they wouldn’t get noticed by the guards. Nobody paid any attention to the dead man, except Sue. She walked over to the door and felt the handle. It was locked, of course.

  “Hey,” she said. Nothing happened.

  “Hey,” she repeated, louder this time.

  The door opened, and one of the Whips entered. His eyes met hers, and she averted them quickly.

  “This better be important,” he said in a coarse voice. She dared a quick glance up before she lowered her head again. The Whip was light skinned, with blue eyes, and younger than the others she had seen so far.

  “Somebody died,” she said, pointing at Bill’s bunk. The Whip looked at where she was pointing. His eyes narrowed. Sue realized others were staring at her. Some of them looked fearful, while others shook their heads or spat. She wondered why they suddenly took an interest.

  “You sure about that?” the Whip said.

  “Yes, sir. I checked him
twice.”

  The Whip nodded. Another Whip entered and stood next to the first. This one had darker skin and grinned at her. She made sure her head was appropriately lowered. The first Whip turned toward her before he spoke.

  “That so,” he said, “Tell me, again what exactly does that have to do with me?”

  The surprise made Sue look up. They really don’t care, she thought. They don’t care at all.

  She doubled over from the first kick to her stomach, and slumped to the floor. She lost count of the rest.

  Evan

  Evan was wearing his finest formals as he approached the doors to his father’s office in Strategos Command. He’d returned to Legacy just an hour before and hadn’t had time to take a shower yet, but he’d changed from the more casual work uniform in order to blend in, as well as command a certain respect here at Strategos Command. It seemed to work, because the guards outside the doors saluted him briskly before opening them. He returned the gesture in a dismissive manner and walked straight through.

  “Ah, I’m glad you made it,” Carl Hordvik said, a warmth in his voice Evan hadn’t heard for years.

  “Well, I was to report directly to the spaceport, but I figured I had time to stop by here first,” Evan said. They shook hands, and then his father embraced him. Nobody spoke until Carl loosened his grip on him and gestured for him to sit down.

  “I have the reports from the campaign,” the older man said. His normally so stern face softened.

  “You seem to have made a name for yourself up there. I’m proud of you, son. It seems you have stepped up, finally taken some responsibility. And not just for yourself, I hear.” Evan looked up and saw his eyes narrowing.

  “I know what you did, saving that girl. Ah, well.... Love can make men do some really stupid things. Just don’t let me find out you’ve done something like that again. I covered for you once; I will not do it again.” Evan had trouble finding the words. His father had found out that he had helped Sue. And the man believed it was the action of a love-sick boy! Let him think so; the alternative is far more dangerous, he thought to himself. Luckily, his father hadn’t discovered Mark Novak’s role in it, which would be catastrophic. Hordvik senior pushed an envelope across the desk and motioned for Evan to open it, dismissing further conversation about Sue. Evan ripped the envelope open and took out a short letter. New distinctions were pinned to the letter, and he laid all of the contents on the desk.

  “Seems you’ve earned a promotion,” his father said. “Sub Meridian. Looks like you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps after all.” Neither of them mentioned his older brother, Victor, who had always been the one meant to inherit their father’s legacy, to one day become head of the family. Victor had died serving with the Luna Brigade, on a top-secret assignment, and very few details had been released.

  His father picked up the letter and nodded thoughtfully. “So, you’re going to Luna again. That can only mean one thing, don’t you think?”

  Evan nodded. It was obvious that his next assignment would be the Luna Brigade, and it seemed they wanted to train him for officer duty in this most elite unit of the Covenant. He looked at his father, who now wore a broad smile.

  “I knew you had it in you, son. And it seems you’ve grown up for real this time.”

  Evan saw the pride in his father’s eyes, and knew he’d made his old man happy, for once, but he didn’t say anything. He had his own plans. Everybody thought they knew him; everyone believed they knew what he wanted and had their own expectations for him. But nobody controlled Evan. Nobody. He changed the subject.

  “Well, with the French subdued, what’s next?” he said. He knew where his father stood, but he had no way to know the stance of everyone on Strategos Command, let alone the Luna Council. Carl chuckled softly.

  “Fishing for intel, son? Let me tell you this. The Covenant has never been this powerful, and freed from the northern threat, it’s only a matter of time before we expand west, to take what is ours by right,” the older man said, and Evan nodded. His father had always been a hawk, a proponent of the expansionists, or birthright faction, as they liked to call themselves. The conservatives on the other hand, believed expansionism in general was a dangerous path, that the Moon people were too few to rule over much more territory than they already held. In fact, it was almost a miracle they had finally given in to the expansionists on the northern issue. Evan knew that Head Servant Lunde, generally considered a conservative, had always wanted to go north, to relieve the threat from the French so they could focus on the threat from Buchanan.

  Evan saw that as a sign of change; that the balance of power was shifting. Therein lay opportunity, and Evan had long ago resolved himself to bring change. But if he got his way, it would be so much bigger than anything those goons on Strategos Command could fathom.

  He was so lost in thought, his father stopped talking.

  “Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” he said. His father chuckled and pointed at the globe, an old antique from before the Fall, salvaged from a vault somewhere and given to him on his hundredth birthday.

  “Look at it,” he said, and Evan did, noticing the difference in appearance compared to today’s maps.

  “The borders are all ancient, every nation long gone. But there is one thing...” Carl said, and put a finger on a spot in the northern hemisphere. Evan knew this was where Legacy lay today.

  “This is our nation,” his father said, before pushing the globe, making it rotate, “and the rest of the world are our enemies.”

  “Not many of them, though,” Evan replied. His father nodded.

  “You’re right. Most of the land is uninhabited or inhabited by small tribes and settlements that have never posed a threat to us. Nevertheless, we have been locked into this continent, held in check by a northern enemy and the Rift, which has imposed a natural barrier for the last two centuries. And Buchanan has always been the bigger threat, with their nukes trained on us, ready to launch, should we make a move. Now though, we have broken the stalemate, but nobody expects Buchanan to do anything as long as they are not under direct threat from us.”

  Evan nodded and found himself considering the possible outcomes of such an exchange.

  “Now that we have removed the northern threat, we can begin preparing for the real fight.”

  “Buchanan,” Evan whispered. His father nodded.

  “It may take a decade, it may take ten. But sooner or later, we will act. It is inevitable. And then, we will take what is ours by birthright.”

  “There’s still the rest of the world...” Evan said, making his father snort contemptuously.

  “You mean the tribes? Well, there are the nations across the sea of course, but they are weak, and if we take out Buchanan, the rest of the world will be ours no less than a decade later, at most. Take out Buchanan, and the rest of the dominoes will fall, one by one, until we control them all.” Neither of the men spoke for a moment. Evan’s father sat down and tapped a finger on Evan’s letter.

  “The Luna Council has been watching you, Evan. No wonder, being a Hordvik, but they seem to think you have the makings of high command, given time and the right kind of experience. That’s why they think it’s about time for you to command Moon people, not just our English subjects. The Janissaries are tough, but they are still just English, inferiors. The real test will be commanding your own people, preferably one of the elite units.” Carl reached out and took his hand. His eyes were ice blue and never blinked as he stared into Evan’s.

  “Son, you have always known where I stand. I cannot say the same about you. But I do have high hopes for you, and I expect great things of you in the future. Don’t let me down.”

  Evan swallowed, but inside, he boiled. You have no idea he thought, while he smiled at his old man.

  Dave

  Two days later, Dave finally reached the Belt. Crossing it would be difficult, but not impossible. He began assessing what he was up against. Manned and unmanned gua
rd towers were spread out on this side, with floodlights scanning the area in random patterns, machine guns could pepper a large area with their deadly hails, and snipers could take out a person from 2000 meters.

  Then there were three layers of fencing. The first one was topped with barbed wire. He could have cut through the chain-link, but he had nothing to cut with, so he had to go over the top. He would have to sacrifice his jacket, draping it across the barbed wire to offer himself at least some protection while climbing over it. It would probably help avoid the worst cuts, but he knew he wouldn’t escape totally unscathed. But so be it. The real danger here would be being seen, so he had to move quickly. Then there was a stretch of 200 meters of open ground, and Dave immediately knew this area would be scattered with mines. He’d seen it before, inside Warden territory. There would be nowhere to hide, and moving through this would be extremely difficult. The second fence was electrified, and touching it would fry him in an instant. After that came the Kill Zone; automatic machine guns that would be shooting at anything that moved. And from what Dave could tell, this area looked mined, as well. This would be the most difficult obstacle to cross, and he had no idea how to do it. And if, by some miracle, he survived all this, he would have to cross another electrified fence and hope that nobody had spotted him and stood waiting to pick him up as soon as he was through.

  On the far side of the last fence, there were no Corpus headhunters, but there would be plenty of police officers, and guarding the Belt was their primary task. There were a few English among the officers, a lucrative job for the right person, Dave thought. Not really Service, so there was no way these people would have the opportunity to earn their citizenship, but it afforded them privileges, nevertheless, such as being allowed to live for another ten years. Euthanasia at sixty instead of fifty, like the rest of them. Dave figured he couldn't trust them; he’d heard some of them were even more ruthless than the headhunters.

 

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