Saturnius Mons

by Jeremy L. Jones

  The Houston turned his head toward the sky. “I have heard the Kompanio. They are clear. Remove all Outsiders from the city.”

  “You want to hear the Kompanio?” asked Cronus, turning back to the keyboard. “All you had to do was ask. I have found their voice. Hear it now.”

  The pyramid filled with an unholy screech. Althea covered her ears and winced. It was like the sound of a nail on chalkboard recorded and then sent through a feedback loop. The noise lasted for a few seconds and ended with a pop. When Althea uncovered her ears there was a pleasant female voice instead: “…those left behind, it is imperative to the continuation of Transplanetary Energy’s work on Titan that you follow these procedures. The refinery complex must never be allowed to fail.”

  All around her the soldiers and even the Houston repeated the words, “The refinery complex must never be allowed to fail.” She realized that all of the soldiers were on their knees.

  The Houston, still standing, stepped toward Cronus, “You… you have found the voice of the Kompanio?”

  Cronus tapped a few keys and the voice ceased. “This and much more. Files locked away for many hundreds of years.”

  The Houston’s face screwed up into some combination of pain and anger. For a brief moment, Althea worried that Cronus had committed a sin far greater than anything else up to now. Then the Houston turned and started walking toward the exit. “The Kompanio must have chosen you. You must be here to bring their message back to the people.” He paused and turned around. “You may stay here for the time being. Finish your work. I believe it would still be wise to leave this place before the eclipse. Soldatoi, venu!”

  With those words, the soldiers rose from their knees and scurried after the Houston.

  Viekko folded his arms as he watched the entourage leave. “Nice work, Cronus.”

  Cronus raised his goggles and grinned at the group, “Deus ex machina! God from the machine!”

  Viekko turned back to Isra, “It’s about the guns you know. And if it ain’t, it’s only a matter of time. Whatever murderous little system existed here is done fer. Now it’s just murder and death for whoever ain’t lucky enough to be packin’.”

  Isra sighed. For the first time, a flash of remorse crossed her face. “Those guns were never meant to be removed from their containers. There were only there in case of emergency.”

  Viekko leaned against the rail. “Well, guess what, Isra? They’re out now. What’s worse is Sergeant Carr is leading the men that got ‘em.”

  “Carr? That is…unfortunate.”

  Althea couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Unfortunate? Is that all this is to you, ’unfortunate’?”

  In a rare display of emotion, Isra started pacing the catwalk. “You are right. That was a poor choice of words. This is what we must do. We know where they are and who they are. We should talk to the Houston and have him assemble a larger army. Every person he can get. We force Carr and Laban out of the area by sheer force of numbers…”

  Viekko stood still with his mouth open. Althea couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it either. Isra was always irritatingly methodical and logical, but this? This was madness bordering on delusion.

  Viekko took off his hat and rubbed his head. “Isra, would you listen to what you’re saying? I lost three men in a matter of minutes. Now you wanna grab everyone in the city and march them in front of machine guns? What’s the matter, does Laban not work fast enough for your liking?”

  Althea stepped forward. “He’s right, Isra. We can’t in good conscious keep leading people to their death.”

  Isra closed her eyes. “They are dead anyway. If Carr has those guns, then it is only a matter of time. The only thing we can do, the only chance we have—that these people have—is to try and recover those guns.”

  Viekko replaced his hat. “Listen to me carefully. There ain’t no fixin’ it. It’s over. Laban’s got the people, the guns, and a fortified position. A coordinated military operation would be hard pressed to force them out, never mind a bunch of people waving sticks! I’m sorry, Isra, but it’s time to negotiate.”

  Isra closed her eyes. “There will be no negotiation. We have nothing to negotiate with. The only thing we could offer would be our complete and unconditional withdrawal.

  Viekko spun around and headed for the main entrance. “Let’s do that then! Seems we’ve done enough damage. What we don’t kill, Laban can finish.”

  Althea went after him. “Viekko, where are you going?”

  Viekko didn’t even pause or slow down. “Going for a walk, Althea. Need to get my mind right.”

  Being outside the pyramid and away from Isra didn’t help near enough in Viekko’s estimation. He tore down the street kicking the odd bit of trash and scaring onlooking children. There was static in his ear followed by Althea’s voice for a split second before he switched it off.

  An ear-piercing trumpet call reverberated through the city. It was the same he heard earlier while he was watching the mammoths, only now it was so near that it made his teeth vibrate. For reasons he didn’t completely understand, he started walking in the direction of the noise. Maybe it was just his body running on autopilot while his mind worked or maybe it was to satisfy some curiosity about the city. He didn’t know nor did he give it much consideration.

  He found himself near the city gates. The space around them was an open, grassy courtyard. Perhaps the only spot like it in the city except for the space around the pyramid. But while that space looked immaculately kept, this lawn was overgrown and neglected. As if it were kept up just enough so they would have space for what came next.

  The gate opened and five huge mammoths charged through and formed a circle in the courtyard, corralled by twenty or so Urbanoi people. Through a series of yelled commands and complicated movements, the wranglers managed to cut two mammoths from the herd and drive them into two huge metal cages. Then came several men carrying sharpened spears each twice as long as a single person.

  Viekko’s eyes narrowed as he watched the slaughter. It was simple, quick, and brutally efficient, and it all happened under the disinterested eyes of the rest of the herd. There was something irritatingly poignant about the scene. Each animal had enough power contained within it to bust out. It could trample its captors, ram through the city walls and be free, but it didn’t. There was a routine and, even if they knew or cared how it ended, they followed through with almost mechanical precision.

  The city would end the same way. Even the Houston had to see that, but he couldn’t bring himself to change it. Same with Isra. They were all going to follow the same script and dance the same routine right until the end.

  And it’s the same with me, Viekko thought as his hand groped inside his pocket feeling for the little glass capsules of triple-T that weren’t there. All of them, every single person on this moon and probably in the Universe, all stuck in cycles that will ultimately destroy them. And all because they lacked the will or the courage to make the change.

  A group of four city soldiers ran by at a full sprint and several more followed. The citizens, still corralling the mammoths or butchering the meat, dropped what they were doing and ran toward the city gate. They climbed up narrow stairways that led to the top of the wall where they could see over.

  In a few short minutes, the area around the gates was crowded with people running in every conceivable direction. Soldiers arrived carrying huge logs on their shoulders. The city gate rode on wheels that moved on metal rails like a train track. Soldiers jammed the logs in between the wheels and braced them with even more logs. Soon it would have taken a jet engine to move that door.

  Viekko had the urge to grab one of the soldiers and ask what was going on. That was stupid, of course; even if they understood him, he wouldn’t understand the answer.

  More soldiers ran up a long, narrow stairway that ran along the wall all the way to the top. There they gathered in a line along the edge, pointing and talking among them
selves with obvious excitement and fear.

  Viekko charged up the stairs as fast as he could. He jostled other soldiers in the process who yelled something as he passed. He got to the top and looked out over the city walls.

  There was an army massing, there was no mistaking it. Judging from their animal skin clothing, long hair and lanky build, it was the forest people. There were hundreds and they looked eager to take their revenge.

  That, in and of itself, didn’t bother Viekko. There was no way Isra could have brought enough guns to arm every single one of them and, even if she did, the city wall would provide ample protection.

  What worried him was what an object he watched the Corporation marines pushing through the forest just beyond the open grassland. It was a machine with two long, square metal bars that jutted out from a rough dome-shaped structure. This, in turn, was mounted to a platform carried by three wheels, two large in front and a smaller one in back. All in all, it didn’t look unlike ancient cannons humans used when they first invented gunpowder.

  It was a compact version of an artillery railgun. The two square beams charged with electricity would accelerate a projectile to a velocity approaching light speed. The result was a weapon that could do incalculable damage.

  Well, that was the idea. The railgun Viekko could see in the breaks in the foliage could only get a tiny projectile up to a fraction of that. On Earth, small versions like these would be a joke. It would be like showing up to a gunfight with an air rifle. But on Titan, there was no weapon that could compare. Besides, it didn’t need much power. All it had to do was blast through a wall. Even this small version could do that easily.

  Another glint in the forest caught his eye and he saw another railgun being wheeled through the trees toward the city. Then another and another. Four in total. Laban wasn’t going to be satisfied with tearing down the wall. He intended to level the whole city.

  Viekko activated his EROS computer. “Isra, are you there?”

  There was a crackle of radio static and Isra’s annoyed voice was in his ear, “Viekko? Where are you?”

  “I’m sittin’ on the city wall. We’ve got a whole lotta badness rolling in on us.”

  “It is no better here. The Houston has lost his mind. Make your way to my position. Follow my beacon and be careful.”

  Viekko sprinted back down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, he turned and headed toward Isra’s blip on the satellite radar. It looked like Isra was going to have her war. Whether she wanted it or not, or whether there was any means of fighting it or not, she was going to have it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Could the Corporation have prevented the war? It is a question that has been asked by students and scholars for a thousand years. It certainly had the power. What it lacked was political wisdom.

  The initial attack on Corporation outposts drove its leaders to cry for revenge. Nothing short of complete victory would be acceptable. The Corporation could not have prevented the war because it did everything in its power to start it.

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

  The people of the city assembled at a particular spot just a few blocks from the courtyard with the gleaming pyramid. Isra and Althea followed the people to a metal platform beneath a huge black screen. There were monitors all over this city, but this was grander than anything they had yet come across. It was mounted on the brick wall of a building that towered over a grassy triangular space in between where two roads came together.

  That space was already filling up when Isra and Althea arrived. People crowded shoulder to shoulder in front of the platform just a few meters from the base of the giant screen. Isra and Althea elbowed their way through the crowd already watching the platform with unshakable attention.

  There were few soldiers around, a small division assembled on the outskirts to keep the crowd civil, Isra reasoned. But everyone was armed. Men and women idly stroked clubs as they watched the stage. A few swung bolo snares where they had space to do so.

  Isra and Althea found a spot near the stage and stopped. Althea glanced around with a measure of discretion and leaned close. “You don’t think these people mean to fight do you?”

  “I think that is the most likely scenario,” said Isra. “Although their choice of weapons is interesting.”

  “It’s the same with the soldiers,” Althea added. “Guess we should be thankful that they don’t carry anything lethal.”

  Isra stopped in front of the stage and risked one more glance around. “Yes. If I were outside the gates ready to sack this place, I would be thankful.”

  Then Isra saw some disturbance in the crowd, like some kind of animal charging through. A big, dumb, angry animal in a white hat, to be specific.

  Viekko pushed and shoved his way through the throng, eliciting several complaints and shouts from the people he dislocated in the process. A few gave him some dirty looks, but none showed any urge to stop him or confront him in any way. Of course, most of the population was shouting at the space just above his navel.

  “It looks to be getting a touch out of hand here,” said Viekko, sauntering up.

  “It is,” said Isra. “What is causing it?”

  Viekko tilted back his hat. “Laban’s went and got himself an army. Along with a few toys from Earth.”

  Isra’s eyes narrowed while she waited for him to explain what he meant.

  “They have mini-railguns. Nothin’ big, but enough,” said Viekko, responding to her glare.

  There was an appreciative roar from the crowd and Isra turned back to the stage. The Houston strode up one set of stairs just to the right with a number of other officiants in bright garments and jewelry. He raised his hands to quiet the crowd and began a speech in the native language. “My fellow Urbanoi, servants of the Kompanio and rightful rulers of Titan!”

  The crowd erupted in approval and the Houston waited for it to die down, then continued, “Long we have existed in peace, preserved from the enemies of the Kompanio by our faith and our diligence to duty. But the Kompanio warned of a time when the rivals would come back and claim Titan for their own. The Kompanio tells us that it is our duty now to stand and fight against their enemies.”

  Viekko tilted his hat back. “The hell is he goin’ on about? I hear the word ‘Kompanio’ a lot. Don’t suppose these ‘Kompanio’ fellas are tellin’ them to do the smart thing when it comes to those railguns?”

  “No,” Isra said in emotionless monotone, “The Kompanio are like gods to them. Gods rarely if ever tell people to do the smart thing. Especially when it comes to war.” Isra activated the radio on her EROS computer. “Cronus, are you there?”

  “Standing by,” he said through her earpiece.

  “Cronus, can you activate the screens in the city?”

  “It is possible. Why?”

  “I need to convince these people to listen to me. Having some technological backup might help.”

  “I will try.”

  “You will not be alone,” the Houston continued, “Look! Look to the East. The sun will disappear behind Saturn at any moment. The Venganto slumber, but soon they will arise to purge this world of the outsiders. Keep faith in the Kompanio. Keep duty in your hearts and we will all be rewarded-”

  A jubilant roar from the crowd cut off the Houston’s words. In some pockets, the roar was punctuated by the rhythmic slap of clubs against palms, in others with chants that Isra couldn’t quite pick out among the din.

  “The crowd is getting a tad unruly, don’t you think?” said Viekko.

  Isra activated her radio again. “Cronus? Any progress?”

  “Some,” replied Cronus with the staccato tap of a keyboard in the background, “It doesn’t appear I can access them directly. They are connected to an external relay-”

  “Cronus, I do not have time for the specifics. Can you do it now?”

  “Not without some modifications to the City
’s power grid.”

  The crowd calmed enough so that the Houston could get a few more words in. “Go to the city gates and wait for the Venganto. They will lead you to victory!”

  So there was nothing left to try except something brash. There was only one chance and that was to appeal to the sanity of the people, if there was any left. She charged forward shoving her way to the metal platform. Somewhere behind her Althea yelled, “Isra, what are you doing?”

  Isra shouted back, “I am going to try to stop this!”

  If that was even possible. There was enough momentum in this crowd to stop a starship.

  Isra charged out of the crowd and bolted up the steps to where the Houston stood. He was more surprised to see her than anything. There was, perhaps, a tiny twitch of suspicion in his eye and a slight upturn of the mouth to suggest bemusement. She turned to the crowd, half of which were already starting to disperse for the gates, the other half watched her with the same mix of surprise.

  Isra took a deep breath and spoke as loud as she could in the Titanian language, “Listen, you cannot fight them.”

  There was a pause and then calls from the crowd. Isra could only pick out fragments from the people shouting back at her:

  “It is our duty.”

  “The Kompanio will protect us.”

  “We must purge the outsiders.”

  Isra tried to speak above the crowd. “Please, please listen. I know the people that gather outside the gates. They have brought weapons. Weapons that you cannot fight against. Weapons that will easily destroy this city.”

  The response from the crowd got louder and angrier. The Houston raised his hand in the air calling for the people to settle down. Once they had, he smiled at Isra. “Please, forgive our dear guest. She has yet to experience the power of the Venganto.”