“It is hard my son, I know,” the Foreman said, his voice compassionate and his eyes, uncovered now as well, wearing a look of infinite sadness.
“I’ve never experienced such a feeling Foreman,” was the bereft reply.
“It is called loneliness, my son, and you are the first of our people to feel this emotion in many periods. You must be strong however, for our people. You must aid the commander because he is the promised one we have awaited.”
“And there is no mistaking the signs?” the young man asked forlornly.
“No, Eric. He has spoken the words and laid low our erstwhile enemies with his upraised hands. This is the time of which the Creators warned and our duty is clear.” The old man finished, his face set resolutely in an expression of unwavering commitment. Gently however the hand of the apparition reached out to Eric. Eric returned the gesture until the apparition appeared to touch the outstretched human hand. A look of calm returned to Eric’s face and he was once again in control of himself.
“I will do as necessity bids, Foreman.”
“I expected no less from you my son,” the Foreman said, a fleeting look of pride entering his eyes. And then he was gone, the connection broken.
Eric gathered himself together and assumed the stoic face he’d worn since his arrival on the ship. He departed Farr’s cabin, donning his opticals again and returning the room’s lighting to its former state.
CHAPTER 22
“I think we have everything in order and on schedule here, Captain Tyrel,” Alfredo Solis told the CO of the E.S.S. Lao with a smile that exuded no amity. “I think the Lao could be best used ferrying supplies to and from the lunar colony. And, of course, in delivering the platinum to Earth that Captain Farr negotiated.”
“I see the Admiral has thought of everything,” Tyrel replied letting Solis know that he knew who was really pulling the strings on this operation. It was also a thinly veiled insult to Solis.
“The Admiral is very meticulous when he outlines his plans. He then trusts his commanders to execute them and adjust as necessary. Do you think I’ll need to make any adjustments to these plans Captain Tyrel?” Solis asked glibly tossing a veiled threat back at Tyrel. As the on-scene commander he had the authority to relieve anyone he desired.
“No, I think not, Captain Solis. Please give my regards to Commander Farr when next you speak to him. Tell him I’m sorry to have missed him. Perhaps I’ll catch up to him another time,” Tyrel finished with a cold smile. Think about those words for a while ‘Alfie’, Tyrel thought darkly to himself. He disengaged his communications without another word.
He’d told that damned fool Trekos that this was a wasted effort and that Ngata had too much of a lead on him to be thwarted at this point. But Trekos was always scheming and often lost sight of the objective they’d been pursuing for quite some time now.
His operations officer approached him and interrupted his thinking.
“Yes?” Tyrel said without looking up.
“Sir,” the young officer said somewhat intimidated by his cruel faced CO. “I think we need to cease operations with our lander while it undergoes a maintenance shakedown.”
“Is it within specs now, Lieutenant?” Tyrel replied with an edge to his voice.
“Well yes sir, it is, but it’s a safety issue,” the young officer responded hesitantly.
“Are you deliberately trying to make this ship look bad in front of that popinjay Solis?”
“Well, no sir,” the young man responded, confused now by his Captain’s reticence. “I’ve served with Captain Solis before and he’d understand a crew safety pause in operations.”
“I’m sure he would,” he replied irritably. “But the offload will be complete in another four hours and I think we can forego a safety stand down until then, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” the Lieutenant replied and turned to go.
“Oh Lieutenant,” Tyrel said in a conversational voice.
“Yes sir.”
“In the future I suggest you exhibit a bit more foresight and plan accordingly for contingencies. I’d hate to see a career so promising cut short.”
The young man straightened at the rebuke and nodded his understanding and left.
Tyrel’s thoughts turned again to the fruitless mission that Trekos’ incompetence had saddled him with. Farr was long since gone and the vault on Lunar Base Five had been destroyed by Solis. There was nothing to gain from his continued presence in the vicinity and he wished to depart as soon as possible. He’d have Trekos reassign him to the corporate space platform as part of the corporation’s ETO program. Some other idiot could treat with Alfredo Solis.
His verbal jousts with Solis were always so juvenile. He preferred his verbal jousts with Farr. There was an unbridled hatred between the two men and that pleased him. They’d never been civil to each other and never would. Solis’ adherence to protocol, even with someone he detested, was a weakness. With Farr there were no amenities. Each man seemed to know that the other would gladly destroy him. It was an honest, open relationship the two antagonists shared.
Yes, he’d missed Farr this time. But he looked forward to their reunion in the near future, at a time and place of Tyrel’s choosing. As Tyrel looked through the bridge port viewing panels into the darkness of space beyond the Moon’s surface, he smiled a Cheshire cat smile.
“Here’s to seeing you soon Farr,” he told the darkness, raising his hand in a mock salute.
—————
The mood of the six men gathered around the ancient oak table couldn’t be construed as anything other than incendiary. The servants who catered to their every need were very alert to the slightest nuance of the men and, as such, sought to placate them in any manner possible. Each knew the consequences of drawing the ire or the attention of the men who argued back and forth across the table.
“We could’ve sabotaged the ship while it was still in lunar orbit,” one of the men said heatedly. “Why did we not do this?” His English was heavily accented in the Germanic variation of speech and his face was ruddy and contorted with anger.
“I agree,” said another, swarthy of complexion and obviously of Indo-Eurasian descent.
A heated debate immediately broke out around the table among five of the men as they argued for various courses of action. The sixth, Elios Samos, sat quietly, his hands forming a steeple in front of him, his Caucasian face impassive, surrounded by his iron gray hair. He knew in past days his ancestor had controlled the world that now cursed his name and he longed for the power once wielded by Alekos Antonopoulos. He regarded the men squabbling in front of him with a sort of detached and mild disdain. They were constantly bickering over the scraps that fell from the table of the World Council. Samos’ goals were much loftier. He glanced over at the latest ‘public relations’ ploy his Germanic ally had initiated. He focused on the argument now taking place at one of those infernal round tables that had become so popular of late. And he watched, mildly annoyed, as Stuart Covington once again pummeled the corporate representative.
“Once again Mariko,” Covington was saying, “we have a corporate representative beating the bushes for delay in our efforts to bring relief to the lost children of earth. Not three weeks ago Mr. Danos was arguing for a four month delay on the Resolution’s lunar mission. A delay that, based on the data now in our possession, would probably have resulted in the mission finding a mausoleum and not an incredibly interesting and vibrant people.”
“We couldn’t have known about that!” Danos almost shouted.
“It doesn’t matter whether you knew or not,” Covington retorted, letting his words imply that maybe the corporations had known. “The facts clearly demonstrate that would’ve been the likely result of the delay. Now, I don’t take issue with the actions of the corporations prior to Commander Farr’s mission. But I’ve talked to several government officials who’ve indicated that the CEOs’ tried to remove Commander Farr after he liberated the people of the lunar colo
nies.” Covington looked directly into the recording devices that were transmitting his image worldwide. An outraged murmur ran through the crowd of a thousand that filled the seats of this live broadcast. Watching silently, Samos lamented the old media that been lost to the Calamity. In those days the media had been mostly under the control of the corporations.
“That’s an assertion without foundation,” Danos was saying in a cold voice.
“No,” Covington continued forcefully, “I’m afraid not. I’ve seen reports in several other media outlets that confirm my assertions.” Covington maintained his eye contact with the transmission devices, as if talking directly to the many millions watching, instead of his corporate opponent. “Can you imagine ladies and gentlemen,” Covington said slipping into what he called his wise uncle persona. “We send this crew in search of Earth’s lost children. They find a world of horror where the people are enslaved and killed by the society created by that madman Alekos Antonopoulos and they’ve endured a hundred years of oppression.”
“So what does commander Farr and his crew do? Well, they liberate that world. After all, that’s why we sent them, isn’t it? And what is the reward that the corporations would have us serve up? Relieving their captain! Can you imagine?”
“I’ve read the after action reports and, I must say, I’m quite impressed. Do you know that there were three Kashi 1123 warbots guarding the failing biome of Lunar Base Five?” Covington said with wide eyes, playing the audience as only he could. “We all know our history when it comes to those terrible instruments of destruction. The Kashi 1123’s were the worst of the worst, called the Death Bringers. So what did the crew of the Resolution do? Let me tell you,” Covington said leaning toward the optical recorders as if speaking to an old friend. “My colleague and good friend, Hitoshi Takashi, who is now the Chief Science Officer on Resolution, improvised an EMP device using whatever odds and ends he could find on site. Commander Callum Farr and his new XO, Lao Tzu Ming, then used this device to neutralize two of the infamous killing machines that were guarding the entrance to the biome of Lunar Base Five.” He paused for dramatic effect and then resumed.
“So how did they neutralize the third? I know you’re asking yourselves this question. Believe it or not, Farr and Ming took that monstrosity out in a pitched hand to hand battle.” He stopped and leaned back, shaking his head in wonderment. “Can you believe that? They eliminated one of the most vile, outlawed monsters of the twenty first century in hand to hand combat.” Covington finished, his voice rising as he slowly said the last words. Cries of wonderment came from the audience.
“But just a minute,” Covington said holding up a hand. “They’d gained entry to the biome through sheer will and heroic actions. But the corporate culture was still out there. And now the biome was open to their attack. Almost two hundred men from the society created by Alekos Antonopoulos attacked the biome fully armed. Farr and Ming were weaponless, having voluntarily given up their only weapons to construct the EMP. They were helpless right?” Covington asked the people at home in such a way that they had to agree.
“Oh no, not these two men. They developed an ingenious plan. At the risk of life and limb they evaded that small army. Despite being wounded several times by the firestorm of projectiles directed at them, they led the aggressors into a trap. The Resolution and its valiant crew were approaching an overhead orbit of the biome at the same time as the battle under the dome, as I like to call it, was occurring.”
“Dr. Quincy Mbata, the protégé of Dr. Singh Thangruph, a brilliant scientist, modified the ship’s mining laser. His modifications allowed them to beam a three second arc that blinded the two hundred hostiles without seriously injuring any of them. They were then easily rounded up by the security team and the people of Luna.”
“Commander Farr, in his wisdom, then allowed the Foreman, as the leader of the people on Luna is called, to handle the affairs of this world. It was done without Earth interference, and do you know what? Not one act of retribution occurred. Not one act of retaliation, not one instance of revenge happened. Instead, the people of the Foreman welcomed back their brothers and sisters with open arms.”
“They recognized that it was the corporate institution, and, of course, that madman Antonopoulos, who’d, warped the perception of the people. And I’m glad to tell you that they’re adjusting well to their inclusion with the Foreman’s people. I know because I’ve seen them on my direct talks with the Foreman. With the corporate structure gone, so too was the madness that had prevailed for a hundred years.” He paused and looked meaningfully at Danos. “And your masters wanted to relieve this man?” he said, his scorn and disdain light, but still there, to communicate just enough of his righteous anger to the people watching.
“The corporations also took issue with Commander Farr’s decision to include a member of the people of Luna in his crew. You see, these grateful people, upon hearing of the Resolution’s mission, were eager to aid the other lost children of Earth and be represented on the mission. A very diplomatic solution, I’d say.” Covington paused with a smile and continued. “In their gratitude for letting one of their own accompany the mission, the people of Luna made available, as a gift, twelve tons of platinum to the citizens of Earth. Platinum that is used in all kinds of space applications I might add, such as our planetary defense system, and which is rare on Earth these days.” He paused again as an astonished gasp rippled through the crowd.
“Isn’t this the kind of people we want to believe we’re sending on these missions?” he said turning back to the viewers, his voice growing with passion. “I ask you at home, doesn’t it look like we got our money’s worth and more from this crew. We should show them our appreciation,” he said standing up abruptly, passion in his voice, and the audience in the studio stood and gave a thunderous ovation as some shouted “Resolution”.
Samos didn’t miss the faint smile that threatened to break out on Covington’s face. Well done, he thought, but you’ll pay for that madman remark. The time will come. Farr, Ming and the rest of the crew would quickly become heroes around the world and pass into legend. But all legends have one thing in common. They’re dead, he thought with a smile. He dismissed the theatrics and turned his attention once more to the men surrounding the table, still bickering among themselves.
“Enough!” he hissed quieting the others immediately. Those that had stood to argue their points immediately sat down upon hearing Samos’ outburst. When they were seated and quiet he spoke.
“I find your bickering and lack of vision tiring,” he said, his face wearing that cold look that each of the men secretly feared. They knew that face had been the last thing some men had ever seen. “Now, point one. There will be no more of this,” he said with a vagrant wave of his hand at the display where Covington continued his dismantling of Danos.
“But…” the Germanic accented gentleman started. His mouth snapped shut when Samos let his gaze fall on him.
“This is nothing but fodder for Stuart Covington’s crusade against us, aided no doubt by that bastard Ngata.”
“You think they’re working together,” the Indo-Eurasian asked, his face dumbfounded.
“Obviously,” Samos replied acidly. “Who else could’ve leaked the information so quickly? And Ngata sat on the information for days before he informed the Council, effectively hamstringing us. We couldn’t use the information without revealing we were privy to it. No, there’ll be no more of these public relations debacles. We don’t yet have the power to quash any contrary opinions as our predecessors did.”
“Now, why we didn’t sabotage the ship in lunar orbit? Because sabotaging the ship wouldn’t have served any purpose at this point.”
“But the platinum, they must have sixty Earth tons just lying there. It is a fortune we’ve lost!” one man intoned.
“It is scraps from the table of the Council Jochem,” Samos told him icily. “Just how would you have taken control of it now, with our ships not ready? There
is an old Earth saying Jochem, ‘you do not defecate where you eat’. The lunar landscape is too close. There might’ve been survivors and questions and some of those questions might lead back to some of you,” he said letting his eyes drift around the table. Good, he thought, they were cowed and ready to cooperate.
“Since our ships are not ready, we’ll let Commander Farr perform the hard work of establishing contact with the colonies that are still alive. He’ll leave our ships a trail to follow, like breadcrumbs, leading to a fortune that dwarfs what you think we’ve lost. And in the end, the lunar fortune will be ours as well. Remember the long road that my grandfather and your forebears laid out for us. Be patient. The Resolution will be out of communications for two months when the Earth passes behind the sun. Our operative will strike just before that time. He has obtained the virus from the vault in Lunar Base Five. It is fortunate for us that he did. That idiot Solis destroyed it all two days ago at the urging of that dirty worker.” Samos stopped momentarily and regarded each and every man at the table. Few could hold his gaze for very long.
“No, let our enemies work for us in the near future, while we prepare for the final phase when we’ll regain the power we once held. Let the Resolution and her crew disappear in the asteroid belt and pass into legend as their only reward. When our operative strikes there’ll be no lingering witnesses to the event, not even him,” Samos said with a cruel smile and the eyes of a shark. “We already control the communication satellites. If we work diligently we can gain control or neutralize the defense grid. We must stay the course until the destruction of the Resolution and its’ annoying commander.”
Around the table the men saw the wisdom of his approach and nodded, cold smiles of avarice and greed playing on their faces. Millions of kilometers away the Resolution made its way toward an unknowable future, a tiny speck against the immensity of space.
—————
The Foreman of the People continued staring into the space where Eric’s shade had been only moments before. His heart ached for the young man’s pain, but he willed the emotion away. It was non-productive. We’re all instruments of the necessity, he told himself, that races unchecked toward a rendezvous with humanity. Although, he knew, Eric’s plight was one that the residents of this dark world would not have willingly undertaken.
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