Robert Wilson and the Invasion from Within

by Scott Ruesterholz

  One of the soldiers examining Jesse’s bags tells his superior officer, “There is nothing here.”

  “I told you that fifteen minutes ago,” an exasperated but defiant Jesse says.

  “Shut up. I’ll ask you again. Where have you been hiding?” the lead soldier asks.

  “I’ve told you already. I am alone. I just am passing through; I didn’t realize the woods are private property. I’m sorry.”

  “Enough lies!”

  The officer looks in the direction of a soldier standing behind Jesse who bangs him in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking Jesse to the ground with a cry of pain. Marcus nearly screams out, but bites his lips to stay quiet. A solider pulls Jesse back up to his knees as he winces in pain. The superior officer pulls the pistol out of its holster and points it right between Jesse’s eyes.

  “Last chance. Who are you working for and where are you staying?” the soldier demands. Jesse closes his eyes and puffs up his chest, prepared to die an unbroken man.

  “One…Two…Th—”

  “Wait!” Marcus shouts as he tumbles out from under the bush, running towards his father.

  “Run away, Marcus! Please!” his father begs before Marcus reaches the ring of soldiers, but Marcus ignores his pleas. He has seen one parent murdered and won’t sit back to watch another die. He runs past the soldiers, hugs his father, and stands between him and the loaded gun.

  “It’s just my dad, and I. No one else. We just live a life in a cave back in the woods. We don’t bother anyone, leave us alone.”

  The commanding officer crouches down onto one knee, flips his visor up, revealing a pale white face, disfigured from severe burn trauma that never properly healed.

  “You know, something, I believe you. What’s your name, boy?”

  “Marcus.”

  “Well, Marcus I believe you. I really do. I just wish your father had been as honest with us as you are because we could have let him go on his way and return to your little cave. But we can’t have people lying to the military, now can we? That would just incite chaos. So, we have to take him to the mine to work, and we can’t leave you all alone in the woods. How old are you, twelve?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Yes, that’s far too young to be on your own. So because your father lied, you’ll have to come with us, and work the mine alongside him. I used to work the mine; it can be a dangerous place, as you can probably guess. But work hard, like me, and you could join Supreme General Frozos’s army one day.”

  As the soldier stands back upright, Marcus tries to push him out of the way while yelling, “Liar!”

  The commanding officer throws Marcus to the ground. “Clearly, living in the woods has robbed you of good manners. No worry, you’ll learn discipline. If you touch an officer of the League of Planets again, you’ll find the punishment far more severe.”

  Marcus gets up and hugs his father. “I couldn’t let them kill you, Dad; I’m sorry.”

  Jesse pacifies him, “You’re a good son, Marcus; you’ll be a great man someday. It’s okay. Everything will work out.”

  A soldier pulls Jesse up to his feet. Escorted by the soldiers, Jesse and Marcus lead the way down the river for about three-quarters of a mile before coming to a small transport plane. Its back door opens downward to the ground, making a ramp that they walk up into the plane’s fuselage. After they take seats, the plane lifts off from the ground, and Marcus looks down at his forest home of the past four years for the final time.

  It is only about a ten-minute flight before the mine comes into view—a giant complex that stretches all the way through to the horizon. As Marcus will soon learn, it is broken down into three “Blocks.” Block A is about 185,000 acres, Block B to the west is about 410,000 acres, and Block C, which is north of Blocks A and B before stretching out to the east, spans 715,000 acres. There is active mining and production coming from Blocks A and B. Block C is home to further exploration activity as the geology is suggestive of rich mineral deposits as well as a refinery system to process and purify some of the minerals before products are loaded on supertankers to be brought to the shipyards scattered across Frozos’s empire.

  As they fly in, Marcus sees a deep, giant hole, almost like the crater of a massive asteroid. This open-pit mine is the centerpiece of Block A. Here, they are mining for nayanite, the dominant metal and third most abundant element on the planet’s crust. When fused with carbon, it is three times as strong as steel but only half the mass, making it the perfect outer case for spacecrafts and battleships. In the past, Jesse has explained to Marcus that this mine has been producing nayanite for over sixty years, and its reserve life is expected to last another forty years at least, not even counting the potential for further discoveries in Block C. The pit is almost one mile deep and covers nearly seventeen square miles. The walls of the mine are “stepped” with each level about thirty feet thick. Marcus is amazed at the engineering marvel, having never seen the mine in his life.

  While nayanite reserves made this planet a critical player in the galactic supply chain, its true treasure lies in the underground pits deep below the planet’s surface in Block B. About twenty-five years ago, the mining company discovered an extraordinarily rare and valuable element: raptium. An extremely dense metal with a dull, goldish coloring, this metal can cause extremely powerful explosions for which scientists have been able to develop a controlled apparatus. Raptium is now the primary fuel of Frozos’s fleet, enabling ships to enter a series of “speedways” and enter hyperdrive, which permits ships to fold spacetime and travel faster than the speed of light. Developing these routes had become a critical element of Frozos’s security strategy, allowing him to quickly move resources and manpower across the galaxy to quell the faintest of internal rebellions and continue to fold new planets into his sphere of influence.

  Of the 227 planets within his realm, only five have reserves of raptium, and Nayan alone has 43 percent of the total reserves, making this planet among the most critical in the League of Planets. Officers in the League’s army carefully guard and patrol the mine to ensure that raptium is not snuck out to support rebel forces and keep their planes in the sky. Increased smuggling indeed was the reason for the enhanced patrol schedule that Jesse and Marcus had observed in the forest the past few months. Raptium is extremely expensive in the black market, so it is unclear whether the element is being smuggled onto the black market for profit or funneled to the resistance. Either way, Frozos directed the security team to take whatever measures were needed to bring smuggling back down to zero.

  After the plane lands, Jesse and Marcus are brought through for processing. They are handed new uniforms: ill-fitting grey button-down shirts, a white t-shirt, grey pants, and work boots. The boots are to last six months and clothing three months, so they are told to be careful. Looking around the camp, workers are seen dressed in clothes of various states of disrepair, given the grueling nature of the work. At his age, Marcus will work in the underground mine of Block B where he will mainly be doing menial tasks, like bringing around water to the crew, moving rubble off mine cart tracks, helping to load the carts with raptium ore for refinement and processing, and whatever tasks supervisory workers and military personnel need. As he grows older and more familiar with the mine, his responsibilities will grow, and by the age of sixteen could become a miner, and eventually, a supervisory worker, or if he is particularly fortunate move over into a military position.

  Marcus is fortunate to be working in the raptium mine, for it is among the easiest assignments. The mine is nearly two miles below the surface, and as a consequence, it has a natural climate of fifty to sixty-five degrees, though it can get warmer from the heat thrown off by the heavy machinery. Throughout the mine are a series of deep tunnels, ranging from thirty feet tall to five feet. The complex maze has tunnels stretching for hundreds of miles. It can take years to master the routes.

  M
arcus learns he will be working on crew #1949. This team of twenty-five men has been working together since before Frozos took over Nayan. Originally, they were employees of the mine, and subsequent to the occupation, they were drafted into service. Marcus will be meeting the group tomorrow at the entrance of mine shaft three, and they would be working in the midsection of the mine, which has been producing raptium for thirteen years now.

  His father is less lucky. He will be operating in the processing plants and refineries in Block C that meld nayanite with carbon. Jesse will discover that the working conditions in these facilities are poor, with safety standards criminally negligent. Rarely does a week go by without at least one fatality. The blast furnaces will exceed 1,600 degrees Fahrenheit, and as a consequence, temperatures throughout the facility frequently eclipse a hundred degrees. Heat exhaustion and severe dehydration are common maladies. The machinery is poorly maintained, and so accidents of hot metal falling onto workers are not infrequent either. Working in these facilities is functionally a death sentence as the average worker only lasts fifteen months in these conditions. Workers who are caught trying to escape or smuggle goods get sent to this facility. Seen as a fugitive from Frozos, Jesse is being sent to this facility and presumably to his death.

  Jesse—whose hands have been uncuffed—and Marcus are standing at the processing office where they are being given their assignments.

  A diminutive guard tells Jesse, “From now on, you will be identified as NJ272. Write that marking on all your clothes to identify your possessions. Report to Entrance C of Mill 4 at 7:00 AM tomorrow. Your shift is 7:00 AM to 6:30 PM with thirty minutes for lunch.”

  Turning to Marcus, he says, “You will be NJ273. You will report to Shaft 3 of the Block B mine. Look for crew number 1949; you will be joining them. You have the same shift as your father. You will live in Barrack 47. Follow this officer.”

  Jesse and Marcus follow the officer out the building and down a dirt road. The officer points them to a dilapidated brick building. It is there where meals of gruel, dried bread, and occasionally a single slice of salted meat, are served promptly at 6:00 AM and 7:30 PM. From here, there is row upon row of wooden longhouses, standing about fifteen feet high, thirty feet wide, and one hundred feet long. After about a half mile walk, they get to Barrack 47, a wooden structure that they will now call home.

  Inside the building, there is a dirt floor and two rows of bunk beds, fifteen deep. In the back, there is a bathroom that doesn’t look the least bit sanitary. The building is empty with everyone at work. The officer tells them they are assigned to the first bunk on the right and leaves them alone in the barrack. On each of the beds, there is a two-inch thick mattress and one single paper-thin sheet.

  Jesse turns to his down-trodden son, “So top or bottom bunk, Marcus?”

  “Bottom, I guess?” Marcus says as he sits on the bed.

  Jesse sits next to him, “Don’t worry. I know you probably feel trapped. But better days will come.”

  “How do you know, Dad?” Marcus asks, feeling trapped in every sense of the word.

  “Because I know you aren’t meant to spend all your days here, and I know Mom is looking down on us and will protect you. Remember, the character of a man is forged in the tough times, by how he perseveres and sticks to his principles, even when it seems all is lost. The strongest metals are forged in the hottest furnaces. Together, we’ll get through this and be stronger than ever. I promise.” Jesse puts his arm around Marcus, and hugs him. Silently, they sit there as Jesse says a prayer to his wife, hoping and believing she is with them always.

  Chapter 21

  Manhattan, New York

  April 30, 2029

  It is just a few seconds before noon on the East Coast. Robert Wilson is sitting in a sleek television studio. Behind him, there is a giant window, from which the bustle of fifth avenue can be seen. Having watched the reaction to President Larom’s speech, Robert feels like he may need to attempt a more public strategy as the fragile calm that has benefitted everyone appears to be teetering. Financial markets are down 7 percent, having already been halted from trading once. Chris Bailey also discreetly sent Robert a text at 10:30, saying that 13 percent of Arbor Ridge’s nondefense employees hadn’t shown up for work today. Robert knew that Chris must have been worried to break their no-communications rule.

  Robert is about to give his first interview since assuming command of PEACE. His objective is simple: to maintain the civilian calm that has been a genuine asset in the war-building effort. He is still wearing a black suit with an American flag lapel pin but has swapped out the light blue tie for a red-and-blue striped one. Robert hates TV studios, but he felt it important symbolism to leave the safety of a PEACE facility. Sitting across from him is Jim Storks, clad in a navy-blue suit and dark blue-and-white tie. Storks was Robert’s go-to interviewer when he ran Arbor Ridge, as the long-running, respected anchor of America’s top morning business show. It seemed only natural to offer him the interview.

  At 12:01 PM, having received the cue from the hour’s typical anchor, the red light flips on, signaling they are live.

  “Thank you, Mary. Sorry to cut in on your hour, but we have a special interview for you, with PEACE Commander Robert Wilson,” Storks says to the camera. Turning to Robert, he continues, “This is your first interview since forming PEACE, right commander?”

  “It is,” Robert begins. “If you remember, Jim, back in November, when you harangued me about acquiring a news network, I promised you’d always get my exclusives. Never let it be said I’m not a man of my word.”

  “Well, we appreciate that. Now tell me, why have you avoided the press in the three weeks since you formed PEACE?”

  “It’s simple, Jim. My objective is to ensure Earth is safe and has the military resources to guarantee we win this war. It’s not my job to govern over civilian life. That’s for civilian authorities, your government leaders and elected officials, to do.”

  “So, are there restrictions on your communications as part of the PEACE formation agreement?”

  “No. I can speak to whomever I want, whenever I want. I just do not wish to cause confusion in the chain of command. But I am here today solely because I want to be.”

  “So why now? Is there truth to reports that you are unhappy with what President Larom and other leaders said today?”

  “No. First, there are no reports that say this, just the conjecture of TV pundits who do nothing but talk all day.”

  “That’s not entirely fair to—” Storks says as Robert cuts him off.

  “No, it is fair. I’ve talked to no one about my opinions on this matter. There were two PEACE officials on the briefing this morning. All of my suggestions were accepted, and we have complete unanimity.”

  “Fine. So, what do you make of the sunsheet. How worried should we be?”

  “First, I agree with President Larom’s conclusion that Frozos does not believe he can get in through the force field. That means we never have to let him in if we don’t want, and it would take months to starve us out, if we did nothing, which we won’t.”

  “So, what will you do?”

  “PEACE has the capability to get rid of the sheet, and we will do that. We may do it today, we may do it tomorrow. We may use planes, we may use lasers, or I may have other tricks up my sleeve. I really can’t tell you.”

  “Now, some cynics are going to say you’re delaying because you actually don’t have a plan. What do you say to them?”

  “I would remind them that time is on our side. Each day, I am churning out hundreds of new planes, certifying hundreds of pilots, and studying their spacecrafts’ every move. As long as the public will allow me to, we can fight this war on our timeline to maximize our probability of success.”

  “I want to explore this further,” Storks prods, deviating away from his notes. “What do you mean ‘as long as the public will allow me to?�
��”

  “It’s simple. I can continue to play the long game and build military strength as long as civilian society is united and calm. If there is disorder and division that threatens our alliance or could cause us to tear each other down, I will be forced to act against Frozos, perhaps before PEACE is at full strength. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but every person going about their day makes it easier for our brave men and women to prepare for the day when they will protect you.”

  “So, it sounds like you do share President Larom’s sentiment about getting to work.”

  “I do.” Robert turns to the camera. “I know I’m not the CEO of Arbor Ridge anymore, but I hope those employees know I would not say, ‘feel safe, go about your lives, we will protect you,’ if I did not mean it from the bottom of my heart and in every ounce of my being. So, I ask that tomorrow you be leaders in your community. Go to work like you always do. Drop your kids off at school. Buy sufficient groceries, but not four months’ worth of toilet paper.”

  “I think I speak for many viewers when I say I am grateful for your insights. We recognize you are very busy, but we stand united at this critical hour,” Storks concludes, reaching his hand out to shake Robert’s, who does in kind.