Althea snorted in a humorless laugh. “Why would we even consider helping you?”
Laban leaned back in his chair. “Why, it’s the most logical choice for you to make at this point.”
Viekko and Isra exchanged glances and he knew without speaking that the same question on his mind was also on hers. Laban’s army was crushed. His mission was in complete disarray. So why did he act like he just won? Isra studied him a moment. “You will have to explain the logic behind that statement.”
Laban steepled his fingers again. “My mistake. I assumed as a respected diplomat in the Ministry, you had a basic understanding of Corporation laws. Without going into too many details, your situation is this: We have proof that you not only allied with enemy combatants, but actively participated in armed terrorist actions. We have holo-vids of you both actually taking up arms and killing Corporation military personnel. Not to mention that little payload you brought into camp. Since you are all subject to Corporation rule that makes you all guilty of treason, which means you are all under arrest until you can be brought to Earth to stand trial.
Laban stood up and started pacing in front of his audience. His hand gestures accented the haughty tone in his voice, “But luckily, despite your egregious actions, I’m a forgiving man. Furthermore, I still support your mission at its core. I think I can convince a conclave that what you did was part of an overall covert action campaign. Of course, for that to work, you’ll need to help us.”
Isra leaned forward as he walked past. “Laban, Titan is not a Corporate colony, not yet. And even if it were, us four,” she waved at Viekko, Cronus and Althea, “are not under Corporation rule. We are agents of the Ministry and protected by the treaties signed—“
Laban stopped and turned on his heels to face Isra. “Let me stop you there. First, those treaties became annulled the moment you brought weapons to Titan. Second, you have been disavowed. As of two hours ago, you are no longer acting agents or representatives of the Ministry.”
Before Isra could begin to process that, Laban sat back at his desk and produced a sheet of electronic paper. He placed it on the desktop and slid it forward. In a dynamic interface, it displayed each of their faces, some general information about them, and the word ‘disavowed’ in bright, red, flashing letters.
As Isra started to read through the document, Viekko removed his hat. “We’re both reasonable men, Laban. So let's cut the nokhoi baas and be reasonable. Ain’t nothin’ to be gained by charging back into those refineries. Just a lot more dead bodies and grieving families back home who will want a payout. Now I understand that you’re good and fired up considerin’ what we did. And if you wanna take a swing at me, I understand. But this? There ain’t nothin’ in it for you.”
Laban nodded. “I must say you are remarkably well spoken for a Martian savage.”
Viekko clenched his fist and reminded himself that punching this man’s nose through the back of his head wouldn’t be helpful.
Laban continued. “And there is too much at stake to simply walk away. The hydrocarbon deposits on Titan will give the Corporation leverage over the terrestrial energy supply not seen since before the Fall. And thanks to Cronus here, we have a way of using the existing structures.”
Viekko slammed his hat back on his head and glared at Cronus who sat back down and looked like he was trying to disappear inside the cushions of the chair, “Cronus, what exactly is Laban talking about?”
“He betrayed us,” said Isra, still reading the paper Laban gave her. “We have been disavowed for passing information to hostile Corporate entities.”
Viekko got up and pulled Cronus out of the chair by the collar of the green vest he wore over his EROS suit. “You better start explainin’ and explainin’ fast!”
Cronus struggled in Viekko’s grasp. “I didn’t… I...”
Althea jumped out of her chair and took hold of Viekko’s arm holding Cronus by the collar, “Viekko! Let him talk. There’s got to be-”
Before the little man writhing in Viekko’s grasp could put a coherent thought together, or Althea could make him drop the traitor, Viekko felt a sharp pain just below the neck. He let go of Cronus who fell to the ground while two soldiers, one armed with an electric truncheon, pushed Althea aside and forced Viekko back into his chair.
Laban held up his hands. “Please, please. There is no reason for this. But now you understand your situation fully. Like I said before, you can help us or submit to Corporation rule and be brought to Earth for judgment.”
Althea sat back in her chair hard and glared at him, “And if we do neither? If we refuse Corporation rule?”
Laban shrugged, “If you are not Corporate traitors, you are enemy combatants. Corporation bylaws are very loose regarding captured enemy forces and they are not well enforced.” He motioned to the soldiers standing at the door, “They both lost friends in your little attack. So did most everyone here. Do you really want to take your chance with them?”
“So, help you dismantle the entire civilization on Titan or submit to Corporate rule?” said Isra with a far-away look.
Laban opened his arms. “Like I said. It’s your best option.”
Isra looked at Viekko and Althea and took a silent poll from their faces. Then she turned back to Laban, “We will submit. Call us traitors all you want, we will not help you destroy the people of Titan.”
Laban shook his head. “That is disappointing, but not surprising considering your reputation. Just Cronus, then. I know you don’t know as much about the people but your knowledge of the refineries themselves—”
Cronus got up and leaned over the hologram with the parts flashing in red. “Listen to me Laban. See past your own ambition and your myopic view of the Corporation. See past your petty struggle for control and greed. Titan is in danger. The forest, the air, the ground will be scoured clean by ambition and ignorance unless you listen to me.
Laban looked confused. “Is that an agreement to help us?”
“It is an assessment that you do understand the entirety of the situation. This is not about the Corporation anymore. You must let us go back. We must return to the City.”
Laban shook his head, “Your friends have made their decision. If you help me put down the rebellion, I will consider your request. Either that, or you may join your friends in lock-up.”
Cronus was wild with fear, bordering on panic. The soldiers stayed close to the door on the chance that Cronus would bolt. The way his eyes shifted made it likely he would attempt it. Then a calm washed over him. “No. You deceived me, Laban. I will not give you anything else.”
Laban massaged his temples, “Then I’m afraid you can join the rest of them. Nothing in this world is simple, boy. Or free. There will always be someone waiting to collect and today, that person is me. Take them away. Put them in the brig.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Then came the Exodus. The exact nature of its beginning is unknown. All that is completely understood is that there was a period toward the end of The Fall when humans around the globe contributed unprecedented amounts of resources towards ships escaping Earth.
I have my own simple and private theory. If the Corporation did indeed turn the Earth into a complex prison of torture and pain, who among the survivors wouldn’t try to escape?
-from The Fall: The Decline and Failure of 21st Century Civilization by Martin Raffe.
Well, this had to be a new record somewhere, thought Viekko as four marines lead him, Althea, Cronus, and Isra through the tight corridors of the shuttle. There were three opposing forces on Titan and Viekko had been imprisoned by all of them. He’d managed to annoy everyone on the planet so much that, at one time or another, they all threw him in a jail rather than deal with him. A perverted part of him was a little proud of that.
The brig aboard the shuttle was just a large steel cage set among the piles of crates and equipment; just another bit of cargo. On a hostile planet working around the clock, t
here was usually no need for a sophisticated jail. But human behavior being what it is, it never hurts to have a secure place where people can sober up and think about what they did.
Three marines armed with non-lethal electronic rifles led them to the brig. That was for the best since Cronus struggled, screamed and fought against the soldiers so much that it wouldn’t be long before they were forced to use them. Viekko, Althea, and Isra walked silently with their hands bound.
Even with the brig in sight, Cronus tried to bolt again. It was about the fifth or sixth time and the marines were ready for it. One grabbed Cronus by his hand restraints while another aimed the electronic rifle, clearly dying to use it.
“You don’t understand,” said Cronus, struggling. “We must contact the City or we will lose it! We will lose it all. There will be nothing left. Nothing left to underst—”
The marine holding the rifle told Cronus to shut up and slammed the butt of the gun against the back of his head. He fell like a wheat sack, mumbling the same warnings.
The two marines picked him up, carried him to the brig, and threw him inside. Without a word, they motioned to Viekko and the rest to join the little man curled up on the ground which they all did without a sound.
There was a set of metal benches bolted to the floor along the parameter, so Viekko took a seat to wait for whatever came next. As far as he was concerned, he was quite happy waiting until Laban’s nasty business was done.
But that wasn’t going to be the way of things. As soon as the door to the little cage slammed shut and the marines walked away, the energy in the confined area reached a rolling boil. Cronus writhed on the floor clutching his head. “It’s over. The last untouched history of the planet. Unedited. The Complete and Total History of the Fall. Wiped out.”
Isra sat down at one of the benches, pulled up her sleeve and activated her EROS computer. “There will be much to talk about soon, Cronus,” she said with an air of impatience. “But first I need you to help me fix this problem.”
Cronus rolled over, still clutching his head. “These people will not fix it. They barrel toward disaster and death. It is the only thing they know.”
Viekko thought back to the mammoths being butchered near the city gates. All human endeavors were always at a constant sprint toward disaster with no way of stopping it.
“Figure out a way,” Isra snapped. She activated the comm on her computer and sent a call to the Houston’s communicator. She paused for a moment while it made a connection and said, “Houston, it is Isra. This is an emergency. You need to send people to the refinery. Something terrible—”
Isra paused as the Houston responded. Her face, normally a mask of neutrality and passivity, cracked. Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp. In Isra’s reserved emotional lexicon, that was the equivalent of a thirty-minute cursing tirade.
Viekko leaned back, content to ride this out until the end. Althea, on the other hand, paced the room examining the bars that surrounded them and the electronics that kept them locked in. Looking for some kind of weakness that didn’t exist.
Viekko removed his hat and pulled his queue in front of him. “Might as well relax, Althea. If the Venganto are fixin' to cleanse this planet when the sun sets, it will only be a couple of hours before Laban will be high-tailin’ it out of this horror show of a moon.”
Althea ignored him and kept examining the brig for weaknesses.
Isra closed her eyes. “I understand. Get your people to safety. We will try to help.” With that, she shut off her computer and hung her head. “The Houston says that the alliance between the Urbanoi and Perfiduloi has broken down already. Halifaco and his men have already moved to occupy the refinery complex.”
Viekko shook his head. “That don’t make any sense. Why now? They still got Corporation dimwits chargin’ forward. Why break off ties with the City so soon?”
Cronus rolled over onto his back and stared straight ahead at the ceiling. “Because he intends to destroy the entire complex.”
Isra leaned forward. “Foolish. But also impossible. The Perfiduloi do not have the munitions to accomplish such a task. Perhaps cause some damage, yes, but not destroy the entire complex.”
Cronus spoke again but this time his voice had a distinct automated rhythm about it as if he were imitating a recorded computer voice. “Containment must be maintained. Back flow will cause catastrophic failure.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Isra.
Cronus, still lying flat on the ground, closed his eyes and breathed hard as if he were holding back tears. “It’s all in the program you made me give to Halifaco. I need my equipment. I could show you…”
Isra got up, reached down, and pulled Cronus to a sitting position by his arm, “Well you do not have it. So try. Tell us what is happening.”
Cronus's eyes moved as if trying to work something out in his head then he dropped down to all fours. The floor of the shuttle was thinly coated with a yellowish dust, a product from when the refineries were still pumping out life to the moon. Cronus ran his finger through, drawing a crude diagram. Viekko leaned forward to see and Althea and Isra gathered close as well. When Cronus was done there was a picture—if one squinted at the right angle and added a decent helping of imagination—of the holding tanks that were flashing bright red in Laban’s diagram.
Cronus again started talking in that mock-computerized voice imitating the instructions from the tutorial he built. “It is most critical to monitor the levels of refined products in the mid-sequence holding tanks. Disruptions can cause unsafe levels of volatile chemicals to build. In the event refined fuels build to critical levels, the first step is to isolate the tanks from all equipment involved in the first stages of the refining process and halt further production until the problem can be resolved.” Cronus drew a line across the left side of his drawing, apparently indicating a shut-off. “Containment must be maintained. Back flow will cause catastrophic failure.”
“Catastrophic failure meaning what, exactly?” asked Viekko.
Cronus wiped away the crude diagram with one swipe. “All of it. Gone. The back flow could cause an explosion that will consume every piece of the refineries.”
Althea took in a sharp breath. “Was that mentioned in the information you gave Halifaco?”
Cronus shook his head miserably. “Every word.”
Althea started pacing their little cage again with a renewed sense of urgency. Isra, on the other hand, displayed a kind of preternatural calm as she sat back down and eyed Cronus with a predatory edge. “I understand why Halifaco and the Houston would know about this. But Laban...why did you betray that information to him?”
Cronus sat back. “It was the only way I could protect the data inside the city. A wealth of un-edited information from before the Fall. You have your mission, Isra. I have mine.”
Viekko, still watching Althea pace around the cage, put his hat back on and stood up. “Not that it matters much. We’re stuck here and I don’t see that changin’ anytime soon.”
Althea walked back to the brig door and held up a key card. “Lifted it from one of the marines.”
“That’s great. Only problem is the panel is way over there,” said Viekko, pointing to the console a good ten meters out of reach. “So what exactly do you have in mind?”
Althea looked up, tracing a set of wires back with her eyes. “These key cards are impossible to clone. They carry an encrypted code on a chip as well as a small power cell. Now these cheap electronic locks are often badly shielded.” Her eyes followed the cabling back down to the electronic lock on the brig door. She shoved the card into a space in between the door and the frame. “If I find the right spot, the cell will cause a power surge and the door will spring open.” Althea took several steps back. “There it is now. One good whack and that would do it.”
Viekko folded his arms. “One good whack, huh? Then a burst of sparks and a loud slam? After that a pack of armed marines are b
ound to get really curious as to why we’re not in our little cage.”
Althea took a deep breath and looked at Viekko. Her glare felt strikingly similar to the one Isra was boring into Cronus's head. “And just what do you think we should do, then? Sit and wait for all of Laban’s men to march into a suicide mission? Or wait for them to tear down the City and kill everyone in it. If we sit here, hundreds will die.”
“Hundreds are going to die regardless of what we do. There ain’t no sense in getting in the middle of—”
Viekko was cut short by Isra’s voice. It had a sharp, sub-zero edge to it that commanded the attention of everyone in hearing distance. “Who are you, Cronus?”
Cronus stood up rubbing a growing bump on the back of his head. “What do you mean?”
“Who are you? Who are you working for?” Her voice, cold and dense as lead echoed through the cargo hold.
Cronus stood up, his eyes wide with fear. “I don’t know—“
Before Cronus could even finish the thought Isra was up and across the small enclosure. She grabbed him by his vest and slammed him against the barred walls with a crash. “You are either a traitor to the Ministry or working for somebody else. So start talking or I swear by my father I will end you right here.”
Althea made a slight movement towards Cronus and Isra as if she might do something to stop it. Viekko took her by the forearm and shook his head. This was one of those things that had to be worked out. No amount of understanding or seeing things from the other’s point of view would help. It had to be out.
Isra slammed Cronus against the bars again. “Tell me who you are! Tell me what you are doing here.”
Cronus groaned as the back of his head collided with the cell, “I am Cronus. I sliced into the Ministry via the Old Internets and recalled the original commands. I faked a request for a multi-spectrum communications and field operations technician and I copied it to all the appropriate data networks. I linked that to the shuttle registry. Too much paper to untangle. Too many orders. No one would ask questions when I turned up.”
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