After Moses: Wormwood

by Michael F Kane

  Matthew frowned as the Imperious Doubt put the debris field behind them. Not everyone was going to be happy about this change of fortunes.

  A TENSE SILENCE HAD fallen over the Kyoto factory. Whether through unspoken agreement or the panicked orders of superior officers, the fighting stilled, though smoldering wreckage gave proof to the violence that had disturbed the valley. Both the HiTO and liberating forces had retreated to opposite ends of the exclusion zone, though Yuuto Kagurazaka didn’t doubt that at the slightest provocation the battle might be rejoined.

  What would happen when the Phobos Platform fired again? It was the stroke of fate that all waited for. He knew that a thumper array that large would need time to recharge, but how long?

  So he and his wife stood staring at Phobos when there came a flash of light, like distant fire against the moon. He held his breath, daring to hope that a stroke unlooked for had befallen the Moon of Fear. Perhaps the HiTO had rallied to retake their station. And yet the weapon might still fire.

  And then his wife gasped. “Do you see it! Look, it’s coming apart!”

  He squinted because his eyes weren’t nearly as keen as hers. And then he saw the cracks, great fissures forming in the moon. He sat back in the chair heavily, unable to believe what he was seeing. Someone had destroyed the whole moon? Surely the HiTO wouldn’t go to such measures, but then who else had the firepower they had witnessed?

  Over the next hour, they watched as Phobos slowly broke apart and the remnants crept across the sky. In the valley below both sides dug in, preparing for what, they did not know. As the sun set and Yuuto looked down on the valley, he wondered if life in his colony would ever go back to the way it used to be.

  IT WAS THE DEAD OF night when the two ships set down at the Cole family farm. Or rather what was left of it. When Matthew walked down the ramp of the Doubt, he saw for the first time the remains of his childhood home, burnt to the ground. In the ensuing months, there had been a dust storm, and the foundations were now half-buried. It was gone forever and lived only in memory.

  But right now, he had loved ones he needed to see safe with his own two eyes.

  As the Sparrow’s ramps opened and long shafts of light spilled out, he ran across the ruined fields. Whitaker was first down the ramp, and Matthew checked his gait. The man’s hat was low over his eyes, and one arm hung limp at his side.

  “Well, Cole. This one wasn’t very pleasant.”

  “I see you’ve been mistreated.”

  He grimaced and bounced on his toes. “Turned out that Logan didn’t like me very much. But that’s the price that a meddler pays.”

  “And you’ve recovered the Helm of Hades.”

  Whitaker tipped the hat at Matthew. “Logan couldn’t figure out how to use it and had it stashed away in your cabin of all places. Lucky me, I found it before you did. Now, if that’s all, I’ll be taking my ship and leaving.”

  The man stepped past Matthew toward his own ship.

  “Hey,” Matthew said. “Thanks for getting them out of there.”

  Whitaker didn’t turn. “I’m hardly the dashing hero that you are, but I did wait for them.” And then he plodded across the dark field, disappearing into the night.

  “I see he’s in a good mood,” Abigail said as she joined him.

  “He has an excuse this time,” Matthew said. A group of strangers was coming down the Sparrow’s ramp, ostensibly the survivors of the Phobos Platform. He let them pass. This was Thompson’s domain, and he could deal with them. The women he wanted to see were silhouetted in the airlock. He rushed to them, nearly tripping over his feet before he could pull them both into a hug.

  Elizabeth laughed, and Matthew could feel her tears dampening his shoulder. “It’s good to be home,” she said. “We’re okay, and, Matthew, we still need to breathe. Don’t crush us!”

  “I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, but he did let off a little.

  “Aren’t you sentimental tonight,” Yvonne said.

  He backed away sheepishly and turned to Yvonne. She cast her eyes down. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

  “I will be. Ask me another time.”

  Cryptic, but that was the most optimistic she’d sounded in months. The others had gathered at the bottom of the ramp, and he led the women down to them. Grace was entirely too enthusiastic at the reunion, as was expected, demanding a group hug.

  “Don’t make this awkward,” Abigail grumbled.

  “Wouldn’t be Grace, otherwise,” Davey said.

  And like that, Matthew had his family back. He’d do everything in his power to keep them from being separated again. Warm laughter bubbled up in the stories that others had missed. It seemed everyone had had their share of heroics, and Matthew’s eyes widened to hear that in the end, it was his own mother that had killed Damon Stein. He hated that she had been dragged into this, and yet even she’d had her part to play.

  The Imperious Doubt roared as it lifted off the ground, and Matthew reached up to hold his campero on his head as the backblast blew across the farm. He wondered briefly about Whitaker’s sister and what her story was. It was an important detail and a clue to the mystery that was Whitaker’s past. If only there were a way to follow it back to the man that was Whitaker, the real man, the one with a sister, not the arrogant manipulator that thought humanity was his charge to direct. He watched as the Doubt blasted into the sky, becoming a point of light, before finally turning away.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought we should have a word, Matthew.”

  Matthew left the crew to join Thompson a few feet away. “Of course. What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve called for transport to pick up the survivors. They’re from four different HiTO colonies, so it’ll be a nuisance getting them home. Still,” he said, “they’re the lucky ones. The rest of their colleagues died.”

  He nodded. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Don’t see any reason to say no.”

  “If you return to Flagstaff, are you going to be okay?”

  Thompson let out a short, bitter laugh. “No, I don’t think so. My career is over, without a doubt. But before you make a stupid offer, I’m going to turn it down. I have a responsibility to return. I made decisions that have consequences, and someone has to give a full report of what happened to the Phobos Platform.”

  Matthew regarded him thoughtfully. In the dark, it was almost impossible to make out the man’s expression. “You sure? You did what was right, and only a fool would argue.”

  “Morals are irrelevant when it comes to the needs of politics. I helped destroy a valuable HiTO asset. There’s no proof it was ever commandeered by terrorists. No public proof, anyway. They’ll deny everything. It’ll be treason. We’ll both be called Kyoto sympathizers.”

  “Both?”

  “I wouldn’t stick around Arizona if I were you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “But,” Thompson said. “I did want to ask a favor.”

  “Anything.” And he meant it. Matthew knew he never could have pulled the trigger on those torpedoes.

  “My future is in a cold prison cell at best. I’ve got a wife and two teenagers that may have hard times coming for them.”

  “If they’re ever in need, they’ll be welcome in Antioch.”

  “Good,” Thompson said. “Good.” He extended his hand to Matthew. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get the displeasure of working with you again, but at least at parting, I can say it was an honor to stand by your side.”

  Matthew grasped his hand. “The honor was mine, Ryan.”

  THE CREW SHARED A LATE-night breakfast, scrounged from supplies leftover from Logan’s men. Much of the Sparrow’s living area had been converted to support the extra personnel that had lived there for a week. It was going to be a mess to sort through the cots, personal effects, and equipment. Grace and Davey had already started dumping it all down the ladder into the hold just to make room.

  But t
here was still plenty of coffee, which Abigail thought was the most important thing. Apparently, even terrorists needed a steady supply of caffeine. She sat in her wheelchair at the table, half slumped over in exhaustion.

  “Move over,” Grace grumbled. “There’s room for two to sleep on the table.”

  “Don’t get too comfy,” Elizabeth said. “Oatmeal is just about ready.”

  “Yay. Gummy, mushy oatmeal. Breakfast of heroes.”

  Matthew looked up from his tablet briefly, but then his eyes went back to whatever he’d been reading. “What’s got you so engrossed?” Abigail asked.

  He scratched at the hair on the back of his head. “The Martian news agencies have no idea what to do with any of this. In the last day, a war has started and then been abruptly derailed. A superweapon was fired but stopped through unclear means. Oh, and apparently someone blew up Phobos. It’s just gone. Rubble now. And none of the governments are claiming responsibility. Any of you know anything about that?”

  “Oh dear,” Yvonne said, from where she sat nearby, already on her second cup of coffee. Abigail could respect that. “It won’t take long for them to connect the guild to Phobos.”

  “I already sent Julia a warning,” he said. “We’ll have to get with her and have an official statement ready. We won’t cover up what we did.” Abigail hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. As much as Ms. Legs annoyed her, she was glad that someone had the head to deal with the public relations front. She’d probably end up hospitalizing the first reporter to ask her a question.

  Davey chuckled and shook his head. “Hey, anyone remember when life was easy?”

  “No,” Abigail deadpanned.

  “Breakfast is up,” Elizabeth said. “Come get a bowl.”

  Abigail gripped the wheels of her chair to turn, but Matthew touched her shoulder as he passed. “I’ve got it.”

  “I’m not helpless, you know.”

  “And I know that better than anyone,” he said, placing a bowl in front of her.

  Grace elbowed her, and Abigail took that as a cue to change the subject. “How many satellites did you guys shoot? I got twelve.”

  “Eighteen,” Grace said.

  Davey didn’t even bat an eye. “Thirty-one.”

  Grace huffed as she shoved a spoon of oatmeal into her mouth. “Not fair, you’ve had practice.”

  “And I flew the Sparrow through a collapsing moon,” Yvonne said. “And Elizabeth took down Damon Stein, which you two failed to do.”

  Abigail opened her mouth to retort, but Elizabeth beat her to it. “It wasn’t exactly a fair fight, and if I never have to touch a gun again, I’ll be content. I’m going to have nightmares about this for months.”

  That put a damper on the competitive spirit, and they finished their bowls in silence. “Still,” Matthew said. “I couldn’t be prouder of all of you.”

  “Aww,” Grace said. “Matthew’s getting sappy in his old age.”

  “Watch it,” Yvonne said. “Some of us are old enough to be his mother.”

  “And some of us are his mother,” Elizabeth added.

  Matthew yawned. “Speaking of age, I’m going to go catch the sunrise topside if anyone wants to join me. I may not ever get the chance to see the Martian sunrise again after today.”

  Abigail frowned at that. And then it clicked. They were going to take the blame. Not that they weren’t responsible, but they would be held accountable. And maybe Matthew specifically. Her heart twisted in anguish. Being forced from your homeland was a pain she knew all too well.

  “Wait, I’ll join you,” she said. Everyone else made excuses about wanting to get at least a couple hours of sleep, and Abigail rolled to her room to grab her suit. She’d just as soon not bother, but alas, the top hull was only accessible via ladder.

  Matthew was already topside, perched on a hull outcrop, and facing the grey east by the time she made it up there. She thought about ditching her armor again but knew it was far too cold in the predawn to only be out in the athletic gear she wore under her suit. “Do you really think they’ll blame you?” she asked softly.

  “Thompson thinks so. He’s expecting to go to prison, himself.”

  She whistled. “I’d say that’s a miscarriage of justice, but I don’t think my opinion is going to count for much.”

  He shook his head. “Do you remember the first time you faced death? Realized that you might not live to see another day? I like to think that exposes a person’s true character. The colonies are having that moment right now.”

  “It hasn’t been a pretty sight,” she mumbled, thinking about the fighting in Kyoto. Reports said that several thousand died both at the factory and around the colony before the Phobos Platform put a stop to that. Even so, she doubted this was the end of the political turmoil on Mars. The box had been opened, and such things were impossible to close.

  “Nations rarely have been,” Matthew agreed, “but what’s a nation except a collective of imperfect individuals.”

  “That spells doom for us all, doesn’t it?” Yvonne asked.

  Abigail turned in surprise, not having heard the top hatch open again. “Hey, umm, guess you changed your mind?”

  Yvonne froze just shy of closing the hatch, a sly smile crossing her face. “Am I interrupting something?”

  They were all comedians. Each and every one of them. And none of them were even the slightest bit funny.

  “Not at all,” Matthew said, saving her from having to come up with a witty retort. “Sun’s not yet risen.” The greys were shifting to the pale blues of the Martian sunrise. It was certainly pretty, but Abigail couldn’t claim the attachment to it that Matthew had.

  “I just...” Yvonne began, hugging her arms to herself. “I just wanted to apologize to both of you for everything.”

  Abigail shut her mouth, not really keen on broaching the topic. Sometimes it was better to let things lie rather than dig up old bones. Yvonne clearly didn’t see it that way. Hopefully, this was the end of this season. They weren’t going to chase her off for hiding a few skeletons. Matthew certainly wouldn’t, and that meant that it was good enough for her too.

  “I had convinced myself that losing Tomas wasn’t that hard, that I was okay,” Yvonne said. “That I had moved on. I tried to do something terrible. And I’m sorry that it became a thorn in the crew.”

  “What’s done is done, but it’s already been forgiven,” Matthew said simply. “I’ve already deleted the security video from Ceres.”

  And that, to Abigail’s immense relief, was the end of a conversation she was wholly unequipped for. She’d missed the old Yvonne and hoped dearly that this would signal her return. Though deep down, she knew it probably wasn’t that simple. No one passed through storms unchanged. Nothing was ever easy, and it certainly wouldn’t be for Yvonne. But at least she wasn’t alone anymore. Abigail stood aside and gestured for her to join them, and after a moment of hesitation, Yvonne stepped past her to sit by Matthew as the sun rose slowly over the distant hills, filling the valley with light.

  And then the lovely sight was interrupted by the chirp of Abigail’s comm.

  Wormwood: Part 4

  I.

  NO ONE GOT MUCH SLEEP.

  Abigail was called back to Doch Rossiya by Milena Drugova to deal with the fallout over Tatiyana Medvedev’s death. No sooner was the sunup than Matthew saw Abigail off on a government train.

  And when he returned to what was left of the farm, he got the dreaded message from Thompson. A warrant was out for both of their arrests. So far, it wasn’t anyone else from the Sparrow crew, just Matthew and Thompson. The lawman said it would be the last they heard from him before he surrendered his comm and was taken into custody.

  Matthew gave the order to pack up and leave, sending a warning to Abigail that she would need to be careful and find her own way off Mars as quickly as possible. While Yvonne was prepping the Sparrow for flight, he walked out across the barren fields. If he was never going to freely return to Mars, there
was a place he had to visit one last time. He reached the red cliffs at the edge of the farm and the small grove of scraggly trees that took shelter beneath them. His mother was already at the tombstone.

  Albert Cole

  38-73 AM

  He stood beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders, and she sighed into his embrace. There were a thousand things he could say, a thousand things he should say, but at the moment, they all felt like hollow words of mere sentiment. Elizabeth Cole would have to leave Mars for good this time. And it was his fault.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “You have nothing for which to be sorry.”

  “Our home. Your life. I’ve taken it all away with the choices I’ve made.”

  “We all share in the chain of consequence that has led us here in this hour. You. Me. Your crew. Even your father. I can’t help but think he’d be proud of you for those choices.” He stiffened and she pulled away to look him in the face, a hand gripping each of his arms. “I mean it. I wouldn’t have our life any other way.”

  “With everything I’ve put you through? A failed priest turned freelancer. I’ve destroyed your whole life.”

  “Well,” she said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “it certainly hasn’t all been sunshine and daisies, and you’ve probably taken years off my life in worrying over you.”

  He grimaced. “Because I needed that reminder.”

  “Then let me finish. I wouldn’t change a thing, not one lonely night without you or your father. Not the loss of the home in which we raised you. Not one bitter accusation against God over the course of my life. All those melt like snow when I see what you’ve done, the people you’ve saved. If I must suffer for a greater good, if that is what I was put in this universe for, then I can accept it with small complaint in the dark hours of the night. But the one that made me is greater than my grumblings. He will bear them, and I can be content.”