by RJ Johnson
Rosetta
From the files of Jim Meade: Martian P.I.
Rosetta
From the files of Jim Meade: Martian P.I
By: R.J. Johnson
Copyright 2012
R.J. Johnson
First Edition
R.J. Johnson
[email protected]
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Prologue
He splashed water on his face and glanced at his image in the mirror, barely recognizing the man who stared back at him. The wet basin below him swirled with the dirty gray water he had grown used to while living on Rosetta. Here, millions of kilometers away from the creature comforts of the Consortium, some dirty gray water was a small victory compared to how most of the people lived on this godforsaken rock they called home.
It was here, five hundred million kilometers away from Earth and the beautiful shores of India that was his native homeland where Dr. Sanjay Sinjakama had made a home on the mining colony known to the system as Rosetta. When he was a child, Sinjakama had imagined adventures and vast treasures beyond all imagination awaiting him in space, but, as reality is wont to do, Sinjakama had found life on the crown jewel of Consortium space expansion much harsher than he ever imagined. Those visions of fame and fortune by a young boy from Calcutta felt just as distant as the Homeworld physically was to him now.
The son of a Chinese Diplomat and his Indian misteress, Sinjakama spent the majority of his life surrounded by comfort and easy living. Even during the most dangerous times of the Last War when he was a boy, Sinjakama had never felt like his life was in any real danger. Raised in the highest caste in India, he knew that he had been destined for a life of adventure, but a violent death far from the cushy life he knew had never been part of that equation.
Sinjakama stared at himself and wondered; who was this man that stared back at him? He wasn't so sure anymore after the terrifying truth that he had learned only a few hours before. He felt as if he had aged ten years, burdened by the heavy weight of the knowledge that by his actions (unwittingly to be sure), he would be responsible for the end of humanity.
Suddenly, the nausea returned and Sinjakama crouched down next to the toilet hoping there was nothing left in his stomach to vomit. Earlier that evening when he had discovered the hidden subroutine nestled deep within his project on Rosetta, he had expelled most of his stomach's contents reacting in horror at the corruption of his life's work. His project was supposed to bring prosperity and hope to millions in the Consortium, not bring about its total destruction.
Sinjakama rose from his knees and shook off the cobwebs. He needed to focus. His mind was calculating thousands of scenarios, hoping to find some way out that would both absolve him of his culpability, and save his life. But, as he thought through every scenario, he could not think of any way out that did not end with one of three results - his death, the deaths of billions, or worse, both.
If he was to die on this godforsaken rock in the middle of deep space, the idea of his name as a footnote in the greatest catastrophic event in history was unacceptable. He had a legacy to protect after all. The only way to prevent that was to ensure someone knew what was really happening on Rosetta, even if it meant he had to die. He had never been one for self-sacrifice, so for the moment, he was still hopeful that his death might be avoided.
She stirred on the bed behind him, and Sinjakama silently cursed. After learning Rosetta's terrifying secret, he had returned to his quarters to quietly think things through and come up with a proper plan for escape and alert his comrades back on the Homeworld. However, Vicktoria had been waiting for him as she often did naked in his bed, and he had been too weak to turn her away.
Vicktoria Vlachenko had been an excellent substitute for his wife (waiting for him back on the Homeworld with their son), and he had grown quite fond of the blonde prostitute from Downtown. She was incredibly willing when it came to his needs, at least, once the proper amount of credits appeared in her account.
“Where did you go?” she called to him from the next room. Sinjakama’s loins began stirring at her call and he shook his head, damning his body for betraying him. For all he knew, she was part of Lazarus Rincon's circuit of liars and thieves who kept the kingpin of Downtown well-informed of the scuttlebutt on Rosetta. He had a weakness for blondes, and Lazarus knew it. Sinjakama was never that clear-headed when he was around the beautiful Vicktoria Vlachenko - most men weren't - though, Sinjakama surmised, she wouldn't be very good at her job if he was able to use all the available blood for his brain when she was around.
“Koschei pinged me. He needs help with some sort of technical database issues up in command.” Sinjakama replied. The lie was easy enough to come up with, controlling his voice on the other hand, proved to be more difficult, as his answer came out sounding reedy and thin.
Sinjakama cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn't notice his discomfort. Any sign of fear, weakness or hesitation might give him away, and there were too many lives (including his own) now relying on his ability to extract himself from the expected post-coital cuddling with the beautiful blonde in his bed.
“Something to do with that programming problem you were telling me about?” Vicktoria called out to him as she primped herself in the mirror opposite his bed.
Sinjakama moved back into his room and admired the Russian prostitute one last time, drinking in her beauty. Her chameleon-like hair (which changed colors on a daily basis courtesy of the dye-brush she used), was a vibrant gold today. She normally favored purple, or red, but she knew how he loved her in golden curls. Staring at her flawless body, he weighed the cost of spending another fifteen minutes with the woman. If they were all truly doomed and the world was indeed ending, another quick romp with his blonde ideal would probably make little difference.
Sinjakama shook the thought out, even as he caressed Vicktoria's delicate chin. She was beautiful in every sense of the word and Sinjakama would regret having to leave her behind. If he was able to escape and warn his friends, the Consortium would likely eradicate everyone on Rosetta, regardless of their culpability. The Consortium was not known for their lenience.
“Something like that.” Sinjakama replied, caressing her hair.
“He doesn't need you like I do...” she allowed part of the bed sheet to fall away exposing a perfectly formed breast, a clump of her long blond hair covered her right eye as she looked up at Sinjakama. “Besides, you rarely ever take full advantage of our free time together, always talking as you do about your...” she waved dismissively, “business.”
“Your body is only a tenth of the reason why I spend so much time with you my dear.” Sinjakama leaned down to Vicktoria Vlachenko and kissed her full red lips. “Your mind is the true jewel.”
“Of all the boys, I've never known anyone sweeter than you,” she purred. “You certainly know how to make a lady feel wanted.”
Sinjakama pulled away, and he palmed a small thumb drive that was sitting on the side table. He moved to the door, and looked back as it slid open for him. “I will return later tonight.” Somehow, this lie was harder than the rest. It was strange, Sinjakama knew deep down he would miss her.
Vicktoria pouted and blew him a kiss.
The door slid shut behind Sinjakama and he exhaled a sigh of relief. He made his way down the corridor towards
the end of the hall bringing him to the tunway which would transport him to the other side of Rosetta and to his escape if everything continued to go to plan.
Inside his room, Vicktoria turned to the side table and activated a comm device sitting facing her. A dark and imposing man appeared on screen, an ugly scar prominently displayed over his right eye.
“You ever wear clothing?” He growled at Vicktoria.
“I wear what is needed of me, when it is needed,” she snapped back. “Get Lazarus on the comm and tell him we have a problem with Sinjakama. Koschei will know of the Project within minutes if the engineer isn't dealt with.”
The scarred face scrunched up in rage. “How can that be? Rincon planned for every eventuality! We were so careful!”
“We? Operational security was your department and your failures are incidental to the reality of what happens to all of us if Koschei or the Consortium learns of the plan. The Project is what matters, not your goddamn ego!” Vicktoria glared at the man on the screen. “Find Lazarus, and tell him Sinjakama is about to expose us.”
“He can't be allowed to do that.”
“I'm aware of that you mongrel. Blow the communications array before he has a chance to send a message to his Consortium contacts if you have to. Use those self-destruct protocols you're so proud of and do it now!” Vicktoria slammed the comm shut and rose off the bed, naked as the day she was born. She approached her image in the mirror smiling as she quickly dressed. Rincon would want to debrief her on what she had been able to coax from Sinjakama. Unfortunately, what Sinjakama knew was more than enough to stop them, and if he escaped to warn the authorities in the Consortium, all their work would be for naught. She wasn't worried. She had faith in Lazarus Rincon. As the leader of the Lightbringer Movement, the man had proven time and time again how he was always two steps ahead of everyone. He always had a plan. This much she was sure of.
She hoped anyway. Her life was counting on it.
Sinjakama fled down the hallway, looking behind him occasionally to see if anyone was following. If his suspicions about Vicktoria were true, he had at best, five minutes to make it to the communications array. Failing that, the Pit and the Mass Driver would be his last resort to get him off the station and safely on his way back to the Homeworld where his contacts in the Consortium could keep him safe.
Vicktoria had been questioning him about his work so often, he hadn't even noticed how pointed her interrogations had been until now. At first, her inquiries about his work had felt like inconsequential pillow talk between two lovers, perhaps one overly interested in the minutia of each other's lives, but normal nonetheless.
Tonight had been different. The sweaty lovemaking had been quicker than normal (Sinjakama had been understandably distracted), and Vicktoria wondered aloud why he hadn't been able to satisfy her as he usually did. He had confessed to her that an irregularity in the programming he was working on earlier that night had been on his mind, and had been consuming his thoughts.
He thought that he was being obtuse enough so that she wouldn't know what he was talking about. But when he mentioned the programming error within the navigational controls, her face had changed in a way that he hadn't expected. Ever the professional, she had purred and played dumb, but it was too late, he had seen her mask slip off. She knew. They hadn't admitted anything to each other of course, you never admit to your opponent in chess when you make a terrible mistake, and unspoken as it was, his blonde ideal had briefly revealed the viper beneath.
He loved women. Sinjakama wasn't ashamed of that. The way they looked, how their warm bodies felt cuddled up to his, the smell of their hair, the way their faces lit up when they saw you bringing them their favorite flowers, all of it were what dreams were made of to Sinjakama. He had never seen women as a problem before, but the fact was, if Vicktoria was working for either Koschei or Rincon (the two most dangerous men on the station), unless he escaped, she would soon tell the man responsible for his discovery and his life would be worth nothing.
Sinjakama rounded the corner and sighed in relief as he saw the communications room just ahead. He moved quickly towards the door and just as he was about to reach down to open it, it exploded and Sinjakama was blown back across the hallway, crashing hard into the hallway wall. Fire raged inside the small communications room as Sinjakama sat up dazed not entirely sure of what had just happened. Blood dripped from his right ear and by the amount of ringing he now heard he was sure his eardrums were busted.
Gingerly, he rose, and inspected himself. A few cracked ribs to be sure along with various other cuts and bruises, but he was alive. In one stroke, someone had tried to kill him and removed his ability to communicate with the Homeworld from Rosetta. Sinjakama limped towards the communications room, to see if there might be anything left for him to use.
The door was busted open and inside, he could see arcing electricity and sparking consoles. The fire was slowly dying and heavy smoke choked Sinjakama as he looked closer at the electronics within. He could see that the consoles were scorched black, the equipment rendered useless. As Sinjakama stepped out of the scorched doorway, a deep seed of panic began to take root within the bottom of his stomach and he felt the hallways (which were not especially spacious to begin with) close in on him. There could be no doubt now, Vicktoria was working with the man responsible for the rogue program.
It wasn't clear what had set off the explosion in the communications room, but plan A of sending a message to the Consortium was clearly kaput. His only shot to escape was through the station's mass driver system by ejecting a life-pod towards Earth. Six weeks in a tin can didn't sound appealing, but at least the life-pod had its own communications array and he could use that to contact the proper authorities once he was far enough away from Rosetta.
Four men approached him from the opposite end of the corridor. They were wearing the black power suits favored by Koschei's private security force. The Alpha Primary called out after him.
“Dr. Sinjakama, could you come with us please?”
Sinjakama froze. Without knowing who had planted the errant subroutine in the mainframe, he couldn't trust anyone, including the security teams that he had once relied on for his safety. He continued down the hallway ignoring the Alpha's calls for him to stop. He reached a bulkhead separating the hallway and the tunnel leading down to the Pit and the mass driver when they caught up to him.
“Mr. Rincon would like to see you in his office in Downtown.” The closest security guard placed his arm on him attempting to keep him from moving too much. Sinjakama stared at the man through his helmet. He couldn't see the man's face or eyes which made it all the harder to know if they were there to help, or kill him.
“I cannot at the moment. There's an emergency in the Pit. I'm needed there immediately.”
“You and I both know there is no emergency Dr. Sinjakama, otherwise I would have been notified.” The security guard's voice became markedly less friendly. “Come with me now, if you please.”
Sinjakama's eyes began darting back and forth as his mind raced for a plausible excuse or some way to escape away from Rincon's people. Should he be taken into custody, Sinjakama feared he wouldn't live much longer than it would take for Rincon's goons to escort him to the nearest airlock. At the moment, surrounded as he was by the imposing security force employed by Rincon, Sinjakama decided to meekly follow the four men down the corridor.
Ahead he spotted an emergency blast bulkhead a few feet in front of the group escorting him. A plan began to formulate within his head. Used while building the internal corridors of the enormous mining colony, a series of emergency bulkheads had been installed every five hundred feet or so, partitioning off sections of the asteroid so that they could slam shut on a moment's notice in case of explosive decompression. It was an antiquated system no longer used since the central life support systems had been brought online, but, so far as Sinjakama knew, they were still in perfect working order.
The first two security men duc
ked through the bulkhead and Sinjakama moved as though he was going to follow them through, when suddenly he threw his body to the side of the hallway. Using the security guard behind him's momentum he pushed the guard on his right into one of the men in front of him. Sinjakama gut-checked the other guard to his left as the two guards in front of him were taken unaware by his quick movements. Grabbing the man's shock baton out of its holster, Sinjakama zapped the first man he had gutted and smashed the emergency bulkhead alarm with his other, engaging the system.
The two men on the other side of the bulkhead turned to restrain Sinjakama when the bulkhead slammed down on their bodies cutting them both neatly in half. The last security guard standing looked down in horror at his friend's blood that splashed all over his uniform and Sinjakama wasted no time zapping him with 75,000 volts from the shock baton. The man went down hard, smelling faintly of urine.
A klaxon alarm began to ring loudly as a result of the emergency bulkhead being engaged. Sinjakama held his hands over his ears cursing the damn thing for being so bloody deafening. Turning, he sprinted down the corridor until he reached the entrance to a Tun. The tunway were what the moles in Downtown called the vast network of tunnels that had been carved throughout the asteroid to make travel easier for the population of Rosetta. Most traveled from one end to the other using Rampets - tiny pod-like cars large enough to seat two people comfortably. Rosetta wasn't a large asteroid by many standards (only around one hundred and eighty-eight miles in diameter), but it was certainly ample enough to make movement from one end to other a hassle without the tunway and Rampets.