Lunara: The Original Trilogy

by Wyatt Davenport

  They began their hike at a brisk pace.

  Midafternoon came, and the sun flared hot in the sky, heating their thermo suits to a comfortable temperature and storing the excess energy in the battery strips lining the coat. The sky cleared away from the morning mist, but clouds swam in the distance to the south and to the east. The clouds didn’t worry Seth as he and Chloe were traveling northeast and didn’t expect to run into any more bad weather in the near future. The surface became a shade redder as they moved away from the focal point of last night’s storm. The algae tossed out of the farms slackened, disheartening Seth. He enjoyed the brief appearance of what he jokingly referred to as Mearth—an Earth-like Mars.

  Across his view of the planitia, the pits steepened on the edges, indicating that they had walked into another farmer’s field. Commonly on Mars, each farm had its own quirk: some pits steepened and shrank, some grew longer and flatter, and some acquired a circular or hexagonal shape. Each farmer had his own theory on which was the best way to grow the algae and thought everyone else’s was wrong. "Never let a Martian farmer talk about how he digs his pits unless you have plenty of time on your hands" was the adage told since the early days of Mars.

  They walked at a distance from one another between the series of algae pits, Chloe several steps ahead. Chloe’s eagerness to return to Mars had destroyed his enthusiasm to hasten it. Their return would prove his actions correct but would also reopen travel to Lunara. He worried that she might not come.

  Chloe peered at her arm controls, studying their direction. So far, they had not wondered off course. Her best estimate of the travel time worried her. By plain sight, some distance stretched from their current position to the other side of a farm. She looked at her arm control again and decided to trust the information on the screen, limited as it was. Plain sight and Mars always had a way of playing tricks.

  She lowered her arm and checked her breast pocket for the tenth time in the last hour. The evidence that might unravel her life forever pressed snuggly against her. Since Josef Vhortov handed them the damned evidence, the datapads formed an unspoken tension between her and Seth.

  Seth was right, and she could hardly stomach it. The protectiveness and the shackles he used to cuff her had always been necessary. Burning within her pocket was the evidence validating his years of obsession and hatred. His obsession had ruined their relationship; worse, it justified his paranoia fully and destroyed any hope of his return to Mars. She would never have the typical Martian family. Mars was wicked.

  Yet the evidence wasn’t completely clear. Some of it required leaps of faith with circumstantial evidence. Seth had made up his mind, but she was having a hard time piecing it together. At the briefing, Thomas Cross said it was a rogue force that attacked the Martian relays and Lunara. The report contained nothing about any attacks but contained mostly metalor inventory data. She was unable to ignore the connection between Aethpis and the missing stones. Aethpis fit as the invaders. Where else could those resources have gone besides the invading fleet sent to Lunara? Nowhere.

  She kicked a pile of stones in front of her, sending them rattling along the surface. She needed Parker, Gwen, and Eamonn. They knew Mars better than Seth did.

  His hatred for Mars, bubbling in his head, driving his actions since the day their colony had been attacked, began to cloud her judgment as well, because with each bit of evidence found, he made more sense, and it scared her. His vision of Mars was nightmarish, a world without morality or order, something she couldn’t believe mankind capable of creating. She didn’t believe they would be able to mask such a thing from her acute senses.

  She stopped to turn toward Seth. "I think we should take it to Eamonn first."

  He shook his head, defiant as ever. "We are taking it right to the gala and showing the chancellor. The report would be swept under the rug if we presented it privately."

  "Eamonn will be at the gala."

  "I don’t want to upset Eamonn again, believe me. The best thing to do for us is to make this public. We are capable of making decisions, especially for Lunara and for Ty." He looked off toward the sky. "Eamonn will agree with our decision." He looked back to her. "He should trust our judgment by now. Ty might be suffering on the station or worse, dead. We must have our justice and our revenge."

  "This isn’t about justice. It isn’t about revenge. It is about the truth. Jan and you are so worried about Ty and what happened to Lunara that you want to hold someone responsible and make them pay. Maybe if we know why they attacked us, we can better understand one another, and this will lead to peace. Peace forced upon a group never works; just because you have the most weapons and can control them through fear doesn’t make it effective. You can’t scare everyone. But you can make people understand."

  "The truth will force the invaders to be held accountable. If we allow people to terrorize others and then, against all common sense, we give in to their wishes, we set a precedent that allows them to terrorize us. If someone bombs us or invades our homes, we punish them. What makes you think that everyone can understand everyone else’s belief or position?"

  "Because they are human, like you or I. Everyone can be made to understand."

  "Human is irrelevant. They are evil," he said, walking away from Chloe.

  Chapter 25

  Parker stumbled as his escort, using his foot, pushed him into the interrogation room. His cuffed hands didn’t allow him to brace his fall, and his shoulder, caught behind his back, wrenched as he hit the ground. He groaned as a sharp pain shot down his arm. He twisted his torso to square his body, and his shoulder popped back into place. He groaned again, feeling the sting toward his clavicle. The guard snickered and slammed the door, which made a booming sound that echoed.

  Parker spied around and saw no one.

  He came up to his knees, pushed the floor with one foot, and rose to a standing position. He kicked a scattered chair to the table and sat down.

  His captors had left him in his socks, his thermo pants, and his sleeveless undershirt. The hard cement walls of the room began to chill him, the cold air trickling across his body. His mind started to race with horrible ideas. What if they forgot about him? He shook his head. They were a civilized colony, and they wouldn’t let him endure torture.

  The dimly lit room was uninteresting. It reeked of stale sweat, an artifact of past sufferers of the Aethpisian interrogation. The two walls on either side were blank, and the door was behind his back, which made him uneasy.

  The opposite wall reflected back toward him, courtesy of a one-way mirror. Tattered hair and a bruised lip stood out in his reflection.

  He took long breaths of the stale air, and there was no sign of a ventilation system, which was the first sign of good security he had seen thus far. The room gave the impression of lacking air—a classic Martian intimidation ploy to draw out his fear. If he thought hard and long enough about suffocation, he would panic, and in this panicked state, they would make him say anything. Such an obvious strategy would not fool him, though, not with his military training.

  He took another deep breath.

  "Interrogation," he muttered. He had to keep his composure and make sure his answers were consistent. He ran through a list of possible questions in his head and tried to recite some plausible answers.

  His mind kept shifting to the governmental cover-up happening on Mars. Jan and Seth insisted someone had done it, but Aethpis wasn’t the cause of it. The explanation they gave at the briefing seemed more and more plausible.

  He knew that breaking into the security center in a major colony was punishable by five to ten years commUnity service, mining ice on the chilled moon of Europa or perhaps even building the Triton project on Titan.

  He leaned his head back, trying to clear the growing anguish in his mind. He wondered if Jan was enduring the same treatment, and if Eamonn had found out by now, and if he had already thrown his locker out the air lock.

  Several minutes later, the door cracked open.
Three guards entered the room. One stood beside the chair on the other side of the table, and two stood immediately behind him in the corners, ready to protect the interrogator. Parker squinted to block the light as a figure walked through the door.

  He had expected Thomas Cross or one of his high-ranking officers to conduct the interrogation, but she was much worse for him. He would have settled for Kyle Cortez or Minister Cortez, but instead, sitting across the table from him, with a callous expression on her face that he would not have expected to find in her, was Sarah Cortez.

  She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Of course, Sarah would never have feelings for a mechanic, but to someone like him, looking up at her olive skin, brown eyes, and the regal aura following her everywhere . . .

  "Miss Cortez, I can explain—"

  "You will be silent, Mr. McCloud," Sarah said, firmly. "I am not here for lies and dishonor. You’ll explain, but only when I ask you the questions and leave out nothing. We will finish when I am satisfied with your answers. Is that clear?"

  "Where is Jan—"

  "Quiet!"

  Sarah confused him. She was a different woman from the one who had sent him into a fit of rapture at the restaurant. Her jaw was set firm against her teeth, her hair was pulled back, and her brown eyes, dark and unmoving, glared at him through the shadow cast from the light above.

  His lips pressed together, and he dared not say an inappropriate word.

  She flipped through her notes. Most likely, an intelligence report, he inferred. She looked up but not at him. Then she put her head down again to review her notes. She did this a number of times.

  The situation still confounded him. Contrary to what his instincts had been expecting, they hadn’t punched, beaten, and bruised him. Instead, she was playing with his nerves, and it was effective.

  He shifted in his seat.

  A bright light flashed in his eyes from behind her. He squinted and turned his head, but with his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t escape the fiery blaze.

  "State your name, occupation, and allegiance," Sarah said. Her lips thinned as they drew back.

  He stalled, words escaping him. Before she chastised him, he managed to croak out facts she already knew. "Parker McCloud . . . head mechanic for the mining vessel, Protector . . . and my allegiance is to the truth."

  "To the truth," she repeated. "I don’t believe you seek truth with such deceit in your actions. You came here for a purpose for someone. Who is it?"

  "I came here to learn the truth about what is happening on Mars–-"

  She cut him off. "How did you enter this facility?"

  "I entered using the secondary ventilation unit. I went down the main shaft down into the tenth level, where I found the minister’s office and accessed the computer system."

  "What did you want?"

  "The truth. The entire operation was just a hunch. We were wrong about Aethpis. We didn’t find anything to implicate you in the invasion of Lunara."

  "Why did we find two datapads full of information in your possession when we detained you?"

  He smiled, crookedly and slyly, trying to persuade Sarah’s coppery brown eyes to soften. But he guessed he would need overwhelming facts or a diplomat’s tongue to soften her. Tactfulness was a talent he didn’t possess, especially when dealing with a trained diplomat of her stature. He was only a mechanic. "The information needed to be cross-referenced for us to be satisfied," he said.

  Her jaw remained too stolid. "Why did you say you ‘didn’t find anything in our system’? It makes no sense to tell me you found nothing but took our classified records as proof."

  "I had to prove the meteor stones in your possession weren’t used on the invasion fleet. The minister plans to unveil the megacruiser-class starship at the gala. The ship isn’t part of the attacking force, and your inventory would account for the materials needed to build it. I couldn’t prove to my crew your innocence until I showed them proof of what the minister was really building."

  "My father isn’t planning anything of that sort at the gala. You are mistaken."

  "I bet it is a surprise."

  "He has no surprises that I don’t know about."

  "What about the invasion force? Did you know about Aethpis sending troops?"

  "That isn’t your concern," she said. "Are you and your partner working for the same invasion force? Perhaps you are just a clever spy trying to spin out of our clutches to save your own skin. I think these are the truths of the matter."

  "I can assure you I am not a part of the invasion force. If I worked for the Lunara invasion force, I would have rigged the Protector to stall in open space before they ever arrived on Mars. The invaders were after me, too. Plus, Jan, the pilot of the Protector, could have stopped us at any time."

  "Maybe your entire crew is working for the invasion force. The report supplied by Thomas Cross showed a high number of Trivium Port sympathizers within the group, and you are from Trivium Port. Your actions lead me to believe you are part of their resistance force, and you came to Aethpis with the express purpose of espionage against us."

  "That is—"

  "Reveal your source. As I said at the beginning, I’ll be satisfied with your answers or you will stay here. I can make your stay uncomfortable, and if Mr. Cross decides to join our little conversation, you’ll wish you had told me sooner."

  "You can’t threaten me. Capture rules exist for this sort of situation. The Principles of Man—"

  "I can do what I want, Mr. McCloud. No one watches the government; we are the watchers. I’m afraid no one will miss you. Your street of secrecy runs both ways and this time to my benefit."

  He looked down. She was right; he was alone here, but her anger was graver than a simple intruder inside Aethpis would cause. Maybe she knew more than she had been letting on, or maybe something was in those files her father didn’t want anyone to know about. Had she suspected the same wrongdoing? He was not the person to prove his loyalty or begin to analyze all these questions. He needed Eamonn.

  "I am part of the crew for the Protector, and Lunara Colony was invaded. We didn’t believe the story at the briefing. We have no ill intentions with our actions, and we did not intend to sell or distribute any of the information that we discovered."

  "And why should I believe you?"

  "I am telling the truth."

  She paused for a half minute, studying him, trying to discern some discomfort, some chink in his composure.

  He didn’t waver.

  "Why come to Aethpis?"

  "Obviously, your colony is the biggest and the brightest of all the colonies. We looked to you first."

  "What about Zephyria? Did you send someone looking at them, too?"

  "Yes. Gordon Roche should be back at Trivium by now," he said, holding off saying Gwen’s name. The controversy of involving her would be too great and would overshadow their efforts. "Hopefully, he found the information we were seeking."

  "What information are you seeking?"

  He shrugged. "The tricky part was looking for anything for leads and not knowing where or what to look for."

  She rolled her eyes at his vague replies. "You mentioned a megacruiser-class starship from my father’s records. What do you know?"

  "It is the largest ship I have ever seen in specs. A cruiser-class starship is the biggest they build now."

  Elbows on the table, she made a steeple with her index fingers, intertwining her remaining fingers, seemingly trying to rationalize her next words. "I am starting to think Ty Falloom was behind the invasion of Lunara, and he faked the entire thing. My father intercepted his plans and recovered the colony for the Martian people. Your crew was sent to trick us into thinking some nonexistent raider group invaded you. Controlling the meteor stones is what this is about. If it wasn’t for Thomas Cross and his intelligence agents, you might have gotten away with your invasion of Lunara. Stop denying your allegiance to the Trivium Port separatists."

  "The s
eparatist movement for Trivium Port is almost nonexistent. They are a fanatical group with a hundred followers. Using them to implicate us is asinine."

  "My father has proof a nonaligned colony orchestrated the invasion. Why would I doubt him?"

  "Because a major colony had to have done this. Could it be someone from your father’s team?"

  "I am here tonight because I have been looking into some theories of my own." Sarah paused a long moment. "Where could someone build a fleet without being seen?"

  "Plenty of chasmata or even a deep space outpost."

  "Deep space outpost. Like around a moon of Neptune?"

  "Yes. You know of a place?"

  "No." She tapped the control panel on her CommUn. The light from behind her went out and left only her silhouette in his refocusing eyes. "I will go over your statements, Mr. McCloud. We will take you to a cell until further notification." She left the room without saying another word.

  The guards yanked him from his seat and pushed up out the door.

  In his hotel room, Eamonn was preparing to leave for the gala when the chime on his holophone rang. He moved over and activated the screen.

  "Jan," he said. "Where are you?"

  "I was captured," she said.

  "Captured? How?" He wanted to hear her say she was joking. "Very funny. Why are they letting you contact me?"

  Jan did not waver, and her tone remained serious. "They are watching us. I begged them. They understand you are our leader."

  He furrowed his brow. "Who captured you?"

  "Have Chloe or Seth checked in?" Her eyes widened; she was eager for a positive reply. "I’m worried about them."

  "I haven’t seen anyone," he said. "I’m too busy to baby-sit. I hoped we would all meet before the gala for a drink and to apologize."

  "A drink that will never be," she replied.

  "I’m confused. Who is letting you contact me?"

  "Me," a new voice said. Sarah Cortez slipped onto the viewscreen. "You are a traitor, and I will see that you are punished as one."

  He stepped back. The sharpness in her tone was so poignant. If he hadn’t known better he would have expected her to reach through the screen and hit him. "What do you mean?"