Saturnius Mons

by Jeremy L. Jones

  He walked out onto the roof of the spaceport and stopped near the edge. From here, he could see the paved area in its entirety all the way to the edges where the Titanian forests reclaimed it inch by inch. Isra and Althea joined him to look out over the landscape.

  Althea wrapped her arms around herself, “There’s nothing moving out there, is there?”

  Isra sighed, “Not a thing. I do not understand it.”

  “It looks like they all just gathered in a circle,” said Althea mournfully, “Just stood around and let themselves be killed.”

  Isra gestured in the direction of the forest where a few bodies fell, “A few tried to run, but you are right. Most just… stayed. Why would they just stand there while…”

  Isra’s voice faded away like smoke in the wind. The sky turned dark and the whole world with it until the only light came from the ringed planet hovering about forty-five degrees above the Eastern horizon.

  The circle was alive now. Dark figures and light danced in a circle around a growing pile in the center. Then Viekko was in the middle of it all. Everywhere he looked there were figures like ghosts, visible but not tangible. They carried torches and baskets of food while they lifted their heads to the skies and sang.

  And then there was awful, pained screaming everywhere. Viekko found himself surrounded by fire and the figures, light and wispy before turned black. Viekko screamed and jumped backward to avoid being consumed by the flames.

  One of the dark figures turned toward him. “Viekko?”

  He raised his gun and one of the figures yelled in Isra’s voice, “Jaysus, Viekko. Put that away. What is the matter with you?”

  The flames closed in and so did the dark figures. He waved his gun at all of them and growled, “Stay away from me, ya hear! Just back away!”

  Another figure in Althea’s voice said, “Oh no. He’s having another episode. Viekko, calm down, listen to my voice. You are fine. Everything is fine.”

  Still, the flames got closer. Viekko kept backing up until he tripped over something and fell. His head slammed against the concrete roof of the building. The darkness went away and was replaced by the light orange clouds of Titan.

  Isra rushed over to him. “Althea, grab his gun.”

  He realized that he dropped it when he fell. Althea scooped it up and held it close to her chest.

  Isra helped Viekko to a sitting position, “Viekko? What happened?”

  Viekko realized he was panting and soaked with sweat. His voice cracked and quaked with fear. “The food, the figurines, the tools… all offerings. And the torches and the circle. It was a ritual. And then… burkhad namaig alakh bolno, they were killed.”

  Althea took a step backward. Her face was white with fear. Even Isra leaned away from Viekko. There was a twitch near her eye that betrayed her carefully neutral expression.

  “You see don’t you?” said Viekko. “We’ve got to get out of here. Get back to the shuttles and hit sky. We can’t be here!”

  Althea swallowed hard, “Viekko, you’re scaring me.”

  “You damn well should be scared! Can’t you see what’s in front of your face? We’ve stumbled into a damned holy war.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The digital records are sparse from that time. Most were either destroyed in the global wars or scrubbed by governmental or corporate entities in an attempt to write their own version of history. Much from that time has been forgotten and what is known has been passed to us through the tradition of oral history. It is not the most reliable source but, when it comes to the pain of watching one’s loved ones massacred in the killing fields or the anguish of fleeing one’s home for a far-flung colony, our species has a very long memory.

  -from The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe.

  Cronus blinked a few times. Numbers projected on a screen looked so still, so… two-dimensional. Maybe that’s why they didn’t make sense. He was used to the way the numbers moved around him. They weren’t just numbers then, they were smells, colors, emotions. They were alive.

  He searched through his pack until he found a gleaming silver board about the size of his hand. Hundreds of black lines were etched into every millimeter and those contained thousands of transistors. With this, he could make the numbers dance.

  He crawled back into the mass of wires to install the board. The technology inside the kiosk was ancient but, with a few adapters and encoding lines, he was able to integrate the board into the computer system. Once he had it plugged in, he stood up and pulled his goggles back over his eyes. The world filled with digits streaming past him in every direction. It made him smile.

  He reached out to touch a scrolling matrix. When he saw it earlier it didn’t make any sense. It was the wrong sort of programming language. It was primitive, even for an ancient computer system such as this. Now in context, dancing and singing with the other numbers, Cronus understood. It was a security protocol but nothing installed when the system was in use on Titan. This was something written much later by somebody who had a rough understanding of the technology and the language but failed to grasp the elegant nuance of the system.

  It was like somebody with basic knowledge of space travel trying to lock the hatch of a starship by nailing a length of wood across it.

  It was a simple security protocol to circumvent. Cronus set a simple breach algorithm on it and waited for the program to chew through the tangles of logic.

  Some commotion in the outside world caught Cronus's attention. He pulled up his goggles in time to see Althea and Isra leading Viekko down the stairs and setting him down on a bench near the kiosk.

  The huge warrior was in an agitated state. He was panting, sweating and yelling out that, “They were going to die here,” and, “we have to get out.”

  Althea placed her bag on the ground and retrieved a needle. It wasn’t the typical syringe that plugged into the RX5, but an actual needle. The type that went into skin. Cronus's gut twisted at the thought.

  “Viekko,” said Althea with forced calm, “I need you to relax. Isra, you might need to hold him down and open his jacket. Viekko, I’m going to give you a shot. It will calm you.”

  Viekko was fighting, but it was a weak, desperate fight. Not against Isra in particular but against something… everything. Isra was able to pull one side of his jacket down over his shoulder while Althea jabbed the needle right through the EROS suit. Viekko’s eyes widened for a moment and then his whole body relaxed.

  Althea withdrew the needle and placed it into a mylar sack she retrieved from her medical bag. “We can do without medical transport, but I would like to send a beacon out on the emergency channel.”

  Isra stood up. “We cannot. There is a civilization out here and we should not risk any Corporate influence until we have some basic protections for the people.”

  Althea helped Viekko lean back and checked his vitals on the screen mounted to her arm. “All the more reason we should leave now. He’s stable. He’ll make it back to base. But we shouldn’t delay…”

  “We are not leaving,” said Isra firmly.

  “Isra, it’s madness here. Viekko is right—we’ve walked into something we can’t understand and certainly not control. We’re not prepared for anything like this and certainly not with two people incapacitated.”

  Isra shook her head, “Not now. Now when we are this close. The city has got to be only a few kilometers away.”

  “Jaysus, Isra. We’ll come back! Properly rested and at full strength.”

  “These people might not have that kind of time. You remember the gap in the radio band. The Corporation is on the move. If we abandon the mission now, there is no telling what Laban will do.”

  Althea stood up, becoming equally exasperated. “Then call your people. Tell them we’ve found a Civilization. We clearly have! We can get protection for these people.”

  “We do not have evidence.”

  “Don’t
have evidence?” said Althea motioning toward the massacre outside, “Are you honestly suggesting that those people out there set themselves on fire?”

  A series of high-pitch beeps from the computer pulled Cronus's attention from the argument and back to the kiosk computer. He slid the goggles back over his face and looked at the numbers again.

  Isra took a deep breath and spoke in the same calm, emotionless tone. “Of course not. But we are looking for civilization, Althea. There is no civilization out there. It might be the opposite of it.”

  Althea sat back down and reached into her bag for the silver retinal scanner. “I’m sorry Isra. But as your medical officer, I can’t sign off on this. Viekko needs medical attention. So does Cronus…”

  “Isra, Althea,” Cronus said, his high-pitched voice straining to be heard over the argument, “I think you should see something.”

  Isra put her hands on her hips, “Will he die?”

  Althea shook her head wearily, “What do you mean, ‘will he die?’”

  “Will he die in the next six hours?”

  Cronus watched the numbers scatter erratically around him. “Something is happening. I cannot tell if it is automatic or human-monitored, but something senses my presence and it is reacting.”

  Althea went back to the retinal scanner. “No,” she conceded, “No he won’t”

  “Will he die in the next eight hours?” Isra pushed.

  Althea jerked her head back. “Just what are you asking?”

  Isra maintained her calm. “Time. Just long enough to get the proof we need for the Ministry to set protections…”

  Lights all over the spaceport flickered and Isra’s voice trailed off. An ear-piercing screech signaled an ancient sound system coming to life and all around them screens flickered. They were so old that many only displayed distorted colors and lines if they displayed anything at all.

  Cronus unplugged the silver board from under the kiosk along with the adapters and stashed it in his bag.

  Althea and Isra watched the flickering screens in shock. They all showed a table of Earth city names, dates, times and a status column. The last of which flashed a few times and showed ‘delayed’ for every row.

  Althea stood up. “What is this?’

  “A time table,” said Isra. “The comings and goings of transport ships from a thousand years ago.”

  The picture on the screen flickered to black and then displayed an unsettling face. It was an old man with deep wrinkles, a hard frown and a general look of miserable authority. The picture showed him only from the tops of the shoulders to the forehead and he looked through the screen like a displeased school master.

  Cronus jumped and pulled on his backpack. “I think… someone knows that we are here.”

  The man spoke, “Malamikoj de la Kompanio. Lasi tiun lokon. Forlasi antau la eklipso…”

  Althea whispered, “Do you understand any of it?”

  Isra closed her eyes, “Some of the words are familiar. Some of the syntax as well but not enough to translate.”

  Althea and Isra listened as the man finished his speech in the strange language. Then he began again, “Enemies of the Kompanio. Leave this place. Venganto appear at the eclipse. Leave or you will burn. Leave and never return to Titan. Our people resist you. Our city repels you. Venganto will destroy you. Saluton la Kompanio!”

  The screens went blank, the lights flickered off, and the whole spaceport was sucked into a dark silence.

  Althea swallowed. “I understood that.”

  Isra breathed hard. “So did I.”

  Althea picked up her medical bag. “Can we leave now?”

  Isra led the way across the tarmac, clutching Viekko’s gun and scanning the open landscape and the forest ahead for any sign of danger. Cronus followed so close behind that his high, nasally wheezing through the mask grated on her nerves. A few meters back, Althea and Viekko struggled to keep up. As the sedative Althea gave him took hold, he slipped into an incoherent, semi-conscious state. He stumbled forward while Althea, under his arm, braced his enormous body with her relatively small frame.

  The silence and stillness of the area was still only interrupted by wafting smoke and the crackle of still-smoldering bodies. Isra’s eyes darted in her head and she kept her gun raised as she pushed the group forward toward the relative safety of the forest.

  Back within the trees and under the canopy, Isra felt she could relax to some degree. She released a breath of air that she felt she had been holding since they left the spaceport. Out of immediate danger, her mind went back to the old man’s warning on the screens.

  “Leave this place. La Venganto appear at the eclipse. Leave or you will burn. Leave and never return to Titan.”

  Isra looked at the sun peeking through the canopy and creeping toward Saturn above the Eastern horizon. The fourteen-day rotation of Titan made for long days but, even then, she estimated they only had about twelve hours before the sun disappeared behind Saturn.

  They all stumbled into the clearing where Isra set up camp less than an hour ago, but it was not as they left it. The domed tents were still standing, but everything she had stashed inside was thrown out and scattered on the forest floor. In a flash of panic she sprinted to the camp. The two crates she stashed inside her tent were gone. The two left on the back of the crawler were missing as well. Everything was gone.

  Isra paced back and forth between the crawler and her tent. Her normally cool, composed demeanor crumbled like a castle in an earthquake. “No…no…this cannot be happening.”

  Althea strained under Viekko’s weight, “What’s wrong, Isra?”

  Isra pulled her short black hair back. “It is all gone. The food, the supplies, the…. it is all gone.”

  Althea limped with Viekko to the crawler and helped him sit down, “It will be okay, Isra. We’ll get as far as we can, then we can call for assistance.”

  Isra paced back and forth. “We cannot leave now.”

  Both Althea and Cronus were stunned. Cronus took a couple deep breaths through the mask, “Can’t leave? Can’t stay? Doomed either way?”

  “It’s okay, Cronus,” Althea reassured. “Isra, we already agreed. And you saw the screens in the spaceport…”

  Isra marched to Althea and put her hand on her shoulder so that the two women were face to face and only centimeters apart. “Althea, do you trust me?”

  The medial officer blinked at the question. “Of course.”

  Isra continued, “And you know I would never put us at great risk. Not unless it was absolutely necessary?”

  “I don’t understand, Isra. What’s going on?”

  “There is something I cannot tell you about this mission. Something about what was in a couple of the crates. We must not leave without them. I need Viekko to track them down.”

  Althea stepped back and glanced down at Viekko slumped in the seat of the crawler with his eyelids half-closed and twitching. “Are you mad? He’s in no state…”

  “Can you bring him out of it?”

  “Well, not directly… the sedative needs time to work its way through his body. And his endorphins are still shot, I can’t…”

  Isra touched her shoulder again. “Please. It is important.”

  Isra watched Althea’s face. Althea was loyal and she did trust Isra, almost to a fault. But she could see the waves of conflict in her eyes as she wrestled with the notion.

  “I would not ask,” Isra added, “not unless it was important. I will tell you why very soon, and I promise that you will understand.”

  Althea took a deep quivering breath and looked back down at Viekko, “It will take a cocktail of drugs. I’m not quite sure how they will interact, what he will be like or for how long.”

  Isra turned Althea so that she could look her in the eyes again. “It is that important. Please. Trust me.”

  Althea nodded and knelt down to sort through her medical bag. One-by-one she pulled out three syr
inges and an electronic cylinder with several ports on the side. She put each of the syringes in one of the ports, set the cylinder aside, and worked on the screen attached to her arm. After a few moments the plungers on the three syringes dropped in varying degrees. Althea pulled a fresh syringe from her bag, plugged it into the cylinder, and pulled out the new mixture.

  Althea opened Viekko’s jacket to expose his medical regulator. Just before she locked the new drug combination into place, she glanced at Isra.

  Isra nodded. “We need him.”

  Althea placed the syringe into the port and touched the button on top. The plunger slowly descended.

  There were at least ten people and they were moving through the forest at quite a clip. They didn’t act overly concerned about where and how they walked. That was good. It left a trail that Viekko could follow; a good number of broken branches, crushed bushes, and footprints in the soft, muddy ground.

  Viekko paused, sniffed the air and took in the sounds of the forest.

  “Well, where did they go?” asked Isra, kneeling beside him.

  “Quiet!” Viekko snapped.

  He closed his eyes and tried to listen again. He couldn’t detect anything but the ambient sound of the forest along with Cronus's perpetual wheeze through the breather.

  Viekko looked back to where Cronus and Althea were standing behind him. “Could you shut him up too?”

  Althea glared. “What would you have me do, Viekko? Ask him to stop breathing?”

  Viekko shrugged. They could only be so lucky. But the truth was, it didn’t matter if he did or not. The shot Althea gave him helped. It made him more alert and focused his mind, but he could still feel the Haze clouding his senses. It was like a cup of strong coffee after being awake for seventy-two hours.