by Jacob Holo
“This is ridiculous,” Alice said. “They should be out for blood. There were dragons on the moon!”
“I know.”
“What are they going to say?” Viter asked.
“That Europa was unfortunately caught in the crossfire,” Kaneda said. He cleared his throat. “The official release will probably read that ‘Europa was a victim of the military action between the Federacy and the now defunct Lunar State. The Federacy holds no hostility towards Europa and extends its heartfelt apologies for the regrettable deaths of her citizens.’”
“That makes me sick,” Alice said.
“Yeah,” Viter said. “A little underwhelming.”
“They’ve been dragging their asses for weeks,” Alice said. “And that’s the best they can come up with?”
“I’m afraid so,” Kaneda said. He started walking out of the lounge with Alice and Viter a pace behind. They stepped into an elevator that took them through Spoke Five to the habitat wheel. Crusader doctrine scrolled across the elevator’s holographic marquee:
Never use weapons of mass destruction.
Never set foot on Earth.
Serve our Federacy allies.
“So how is our new recruit doing?” Kaneda asked.
“Well ...” Alice said. “I don’t mean to doubt your judgment, but a Martian? They’re just too different.”
“He’ll work out,” Viter said. “I like him.”
“You would,” Alice said. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t like him. The problem is they’re raised differently than us. It’s a strange culture and they look at the worlds differently because of it.”
The elevator let them off at the wheel with its 0.135 gees, a perfect match for Europa’s gravity. A crusader chaplain in a black jumpsuit nodded to Kaneda and stepped into the empty elevator. He had an M10 pistol in his holster.
“Heading to the firing range, father?” Kaneda asked.
“Yes, sir,” the chaplain said, interrupting the elevator door with his hand. “My reflex implant is bugging out again. The medics don’t know what’s wrong so we’re running a test.” He tapped a small medical probe on his right temple.
“Well, good luck.”
“Thank you, sir,” the chaplain said. He stepped in so the elevator could close.
Kaneda led the way down the long checkered corridor. Numbered airlocks branched into dormitories, a mess hall, a chapel, and general storage areas. Holographic marquees scrolled crusader doctrine continuously:
Never suffer another Caesar.
Oppose Europa.
Destroy the Europan quantum mind.
“Well, Three-Part does have one thing going for him,” Alice said. “At least he’s not some crazy cometeer.”
“Or a convicted murderer,” Viter said.
“Excuse me?” Alice said. “You want to say that again?”
Kaneda sighed. “So are there any major problems?”
“Yes, there are problems!” Alice said.
“With Three-Part?”
“Oh ... uhh ... no, I guess there aren’t.”
“Good,” Kaneda said. “I think it’s time we initiate him into our squad.”
“Is that where we’re heading?” Alice asked.
“I don’t know,” Viter said. “I was just following blindly.”
“Are you kidding?” Alice said. “You do that all the time.”
“Go on ahead,” Kaneda said. “I’ll speak with Three-Part.”
“Yes, sir,” Viter said.
Kaneda palmed Dormitory 5’s airlock open and stepped into a narrow three-story corridor. He took a ramp down to the bottom level and found Three-Part’s room at the far end.
Kaneda palmed the chime.
Three-Part opened the door. Thin pink lines traced small circles and ovals across his dark scalp. He wore a white t-shirt and shorts with Velcro strips along the sides. Medics had attached numerous booster patches to his arms and legs.
“Sir?” Three-Part asked. He continued wrapping his right hand in bandages.
“Hello, Three-Part. How are you?”
“Fine, sir. Uhh, please come in.”
“Thank you,” Kaneda said, stepping in and looking around. He’d selected one of the larger rooms for Three-Part, as befit his soon-to-be-status on Kaneda’s command squad. The room was sparsely decorated. Three-Part had only unpacked a few meager possessions he’d kept in his police cruiser. His riot armor, uniform, and pistol lay stacked in one corner. Spare booster patches, bandages and bottles of pills were spread out on the coffee table.
Kaneda noted the bottle of red liquid on a stand by the futon. He stepped over and picked it up.
“Tomato juice,” Three-Part said.
“Of course,” Kaneda said, setting the bottle down. “How silly of me to think otherwise.”
The transparent floor offered views of either the Earth or Luna as the habitat rotated. Windows were another sign that Penance had never been designed as a military base. Right now, Earth was starting to come into view.
Kaneda picked up a portrait by the futon. It showed Three-Part with his arm around a young Martian woman. She held a small child in her arms. All of them wore somber clothes that projected extravagant holograms around their bodies. The child had a revolving halo over his head with the name UNEXPECTED-JOYS repeated on it.
“Though I have experienced great loss in my life,” Kaneda said, setting the picture down. “I have no claim to something so tragic.”
“It almost destroyed me,” Three-Part said.
“And yet you chose your current name after their deaths,” Kaneda said. “A rather morbid selection, if I may say so, naming yourself after the type of explosives the terrorists used.”
Despite the dark topic, Three-Part smiled. “You know the meaning?”
Kaneda nodded. “It’s not what I would have chosen. Perhaps ‘Many-Bottles’?”
“Oh that would never do,” Three-Part said, laughing. “Not subtle enough.”
“As you say, not nearly subtle enough,” Kaneda said with a friendly nod. “I respect what you did with your life. That’s why I offered you a position. You took this horrible loss that almost destroyed you, passed through a great many dark places, and you emerged stronger than ever. I see some of myself in you.”
“You flatter me, sir,” Three-Part said.
“Not at all,” Kaneda said. “Your jihad strengthened you remarkably.”
Three-Part raised an eyebrow. “Now that surprises me. Not many people outside of Mars would use that word correctly.”
“Perhaps because it has had others meanings across history,” Kaneda said. “And unfortunately still does in some Martian nations.”
“You speak the unfortunate truth, sir,” Three-Part said.
“So how are you adjusting?” Kaneda asked.
Three-Part held up his bandaged hand.
“I would consider that normal,” Kaneda said.
“I reached for a cup and hit it so hard it shattered. I just finished cleaning up the pieces before you arrived. I don’t know. The worlds feel different. Everything is magnified and sharper. It’s difficult to take in.”
Kaneda pointed to the Earth below their feet.
“Let me walk you through one of my favorite drills for new recruits,” Kaneda said. “Stand next to me and look down.”
“All right, sir.”
“Now pick a spot to focus on.”
“Okay, I see the Phobos Gulf.”
“Too big. Pick something smaller.”
“All right ... I can make out Lake Moscow.”
“Smaller,” Kaneda said.
“Smaller? Okay ... I see a little yellow dot between us and the Earth. There.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“No. Probably an orbital city, but I don’t know which one.”
“Good,” Kaneda said. “Now look at it. Relax your eyes. Let your implants do the work for you. Don’t try to force it.”
“I don’t think I ... what?”
>
“Surprisingly easy, isn’t it?”
“Oh my ... I can do this?”
“What do you see now?”
“That’s Five Lake City. I can actually read the name off the cylinder’s shell!”
“You see? There’s nothing to it. It’s just a matter of letting the implants work for you.”
Three-Part looked up. “Thank you, sir. That was very helpful.”
“Any time,” Kaneda said. “Do you know why I founded the crusaders?”
“Of course. To stop the Europan quantum mind and anything like it that might follow.”
“Partially,” Kaneda said. He pointed to a cluster of red lights coming into view. Some of the dimmer lights orbited around a thick line of brighter ones: patrols circling a gargantuan construct.
“Apocalypse?” Three-Part asked.
“That’s right,” Kaneda said. “I’m sure you know how the Second Great Fall came about.”
“I am a Martian, sir.”
“Of course,” Kaneda said. “The war between Earth and Mars at the end of the Second Space Age nearly annihilated the human race. I do have a point, so please bear with my retelling.”
“Of course, sir.”
“The war had many starting points, many mistakes that can be thought of as the cause of that tragedy, but I’m most interested with the beginning of the end: Mars setting its moon Phobos on a collision course with Earth.
“Near Earth, the two fleets clashed in a battle the likes of which no one had ever seen. Apocalypse launched every weapon it had in Earth’s defense, bathing the Martian fleet and Phobos in atomic fire. The amount of nuclear weapons exchanged in a few minutes eclipsed all that came before a hundred times over.
“And when the clouds of radioactive ash dissipated, the Martian fleet was gone but Phobos was not. The largest chunk burned through the atmosphere and crashed into mainland China, turning it into the Phobos Gulf. Smaller pieces devastated all the major continents. Earth was cast into a nuclear winter. Her people starved and warred with each other for the decades that followed, fighting over insufficient food and water.
“But before that, what was left of the Earth fleet traveled to Mars, smashed its remaining defenses aside with contempt, and delivered every weapon in their arsenal to the surface.”
“Human life on Mars barely survived,” Three-Part said.
“And so ended the Second Space Age,” Kaneda said. “This is why I created the crusaders. We are here to prevent a holocaust, but this time it won’t be a giant rock barreling towards Earth. This time it will be much more subtle and subversive. If left alone, people will continue to create intellects greater than themselves. This cannot be allowed to happen. Otherwise we are forging our own chains.”
Three-Part nodded. “People are too quick to forget what Caesar did. They should look to Europa more closely.”
“Exactly!” Kaneda said. “After the death of Caesar, who could have imagined a whole moon allowed to exist under a quantum mind’s rule? Europa’s citizens are slaves, whether they realize it or not. You yourself have seen what even a small sentient micromind can do.”
“It is a problem we face on Mars more often than most realize,” Three-Part said.
“Thank you,” Kaneda said.
“For what?”
“For affirming that I made the right decision,” Kaneda said, placing a hand on Three-Part’s shoulder. “Now, let’s get this ritual out of the way.”
“Ritual, sir?”
* * *
Kaneda and Three-Part floated into one of Penance’s zero-gee firing ranges. Viter and Alice had already cleared it of other crusaders. They stood face to face in front of the middle lane, pointing at each other and gesturing angrily.
“Why are they shouting at each other?” Three-Part asked.
“They’re not,” Kaneda said. “They’re whispering. Rather pointless on a station full of crusaders.”
Alice spotted them and spoke as quietly as she could, but Kaneda could still read her lips from across the room.
“Forget something?” Kaneda asked, walking along the friction carpet with Three-Part.
“Not me,” Alice said. “See, I have the gun right here.”
“That’s hardly an accomplishment,” Viter said. “We’re in a firing range.”
“Well, who was supposed to bring the blindfold?”
“I thought you were,” Viter said. He pointed to her scarf. “And look. You did.”
“He’s not using my scarf as a blindfold.”
“Could someone please explain what we’re talking about?” Three-Part asked.
“The exercise is simple,” Kaneda said, taking the pistol and handing it to Three-Part. “When I give the order, you will shoot the target. The distance is one hundred meters.”
“Blindfolded?” Three-Part asked.
“Among other things,” Kaneda said. “Alice and Viter will stand on either side of the target, so please, only fire when you know you will score a hit.”
Three-Part stared at the gun in his hands. He checked the safety, pulled out the magazine, inspected the bullets, and slapped it back in. “The two of you did this?”
“Of course,” Viter said.
“Not me,” Alice said. “I think the whole thing is stupid.”
“Alice, your scarf, please?” Kaneda said.
Alice sighed. “Oh, all right,” she said, removing the scarf.
Three-Part stared at the scar that went all the way around her neck.
“What happened there?” he asked.
Alice pointed to the tattoo under her right eye. It read: DON’T ASK.
“You see this?”
“Ah,” Three-Part said. “Never mind.”
“There’s a good boy,” Alice said. She wrapped the scarf around Three-Part’s head and pulled the knot tight.
“Positions, please,” Kaneda said. Alice and Viter floated to the firing range target.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Three-Part asked. “Because I think it’s a really bad one.”
Kaneda grabbed Three-Part by his t-shirt, lifted him off the friction carpet, and maneuvered him into the firing lane.
“Might be,” Kaneda said. “Just remember. Focus on what you want to do, not how to do it. Let the implants work for you. Give up control.”
Kaneda grabbed Three-Part’s foot and spun him before backing away.
“What the hell!”
“No excuses,” Kaneda said. “Remember, focus on what, not on how.”
“I don’t think—”
“Exactly! And ... shoot!”
Three-Part spread his arms and legs, turned, aimed, and fired.
The target chimed.
Three-Part touched a foot to the friction carpet and stopped his spinning. He pushed the blindfold up with the pistol’s barrel.
“Dead center,” Kaneda said. “Very nice.”
“But ... that was so easy. You told me to shoot and, I don’t know, it just happened.”
“That’s how it works.”
Alice and Viter kicked off the target wall and floated back.
“I’m beginning to suspect they were never in any danger,” Three-Part said.
“Correct,” Kaneda said. “If your aim had been off, they would have dodged out of the way before you finished pulling the trigger.”
“So much of this was not what I expected,” Three-Part said.
“Welcome to the squad,” Viter said, offering a hand. Three-Part shook it firmly.
“Yes, welcome,” Alice said, smiling. They shook hands.
“I’m on the command squad?” Three-Part asked.
“Surprised?” Kaneda asked.
“But I’m not even a member of the Church of Human. I’ve never been a very religious man.”
“Fortunately that isn’t a problem,” Kaneda said. “While it is true most crusaders are devout humanists, it is not a requirement. What about you, Alice? Any thoughts on organized religion?”
Alice shook her
head. “You mean the masses of retarded, mindless cattle that believe in something they can’t see?”
“Ouch,” Three-Part said. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“And you, Viter? Any thoughts?”
“To be honest, I’ve never understood religion,” Viter said. “I’ve always believed what is good for humanity as a whole is what’s best. Religion to me just complicates the matter.”
“That sounds a lot like the cometeer faith,” Three-Part said.
Alice started laughing.
“What?” Three-Part asked. “Did I say something funny?”
Viter frowned. “Cometeers have no religion.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. Are some of your friends cometeers?”
“Uhh ... yes ...” Viter said slowly. “Yes ... I do have ... a few cometeer friends.”
“I’ve actually been to Enceladus once,” Three-Part said. “What is it they call their moon?”
“The Jewel of Saturn.”
“Yes, thank you. That’s what they call it.”
“The majority of our recruits come from Earth,” Kaneda said. “Especially cities that suffered during Caesar’s war. Some of our more exotic recruits are defector Europans, Martians, Lunarians, quicksilvers.”
“You what?”
“Not many, I assure you,” Kaneda said. “And yes, we even have a few unpredictable cometeers in our ranks. As I said before, I think you’ll fit in nicely.”
* * *
Kaneda stepped into his office. The transparent floor provided a clear view of Luna’s dark side city lights. Most of them still worked. A few Europan ice sculptures sat on his transparent desk and atop his bookcase. The smallest was an ice ship with a watery sail flowing out of it. Not his best work, but it had sentimental value for being the first. The largest was an ice dragon with watery wings breathing water on a lone ice warrior. He’d always liked the ice warrior’s stance: shield raised, sword ready at his side for the counterstrike.
A hologram blinked green over his chess set. He stepped over and retrieved the message.
“Hmm, getting desperate are we?” Kaneda said. He entered his next move and hit send.
Kaneda sat down behind his desk. He picked up his pad and double-checked the time. Seventeen minutes later, he selected the SolarNet address at the top of his call log and hit connect.
A weary woman’s voice responded. “What is it?”