The Vampires of Antyllus

by Michael E. Gonzales

  "Major Selina," Beth said, "please dress. Doctor Barker is en route to your quarters to check on your recovery."

  Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Kathy looked at the door monitor and recognized the doctor, but not the suit accompanying him.

  "Hello, Doctor Barker," she greeted him as the door slid open.

  "Hello, Kathy, let me introduce Mr. Brown of the IIEA."

  "Come in gentlemen, can I get something for either of you?" They both declined. "Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?" As she spoke these words she went into the kitchenette, which overlooked the living area, and put the tea kettle on. She then returned to her guests.

  "Kathy," the doctor said, "I just wanted to check on you personally to see how you're doing, and to let you know that we are monitoring your progress."

  "Monitoring me, how?"

  "You've met Beth, she is monitoring your systems and transmitting telemetry to the SMC, the SUB Medical Center. All your systems are operating well within acceptable parameters, and your state of mental health, your acceptance of the situation, indicates you are adjusting nicely thus far."

  "Thank you, Doctor, that's good to know."

  "I have some additional information for you—"

  Just then, the tea kettle began to whistle.

  "Excuse me a moment." Kathy rose and went into the kitchenette. She retrieved a tea cup from the well-supplied cupboard, and reached for the kettle. Her hand stopped a centimeter from the handle. She froze. The two men in the living area looked intently at her over the counter. Kathy slowly set the cup down, removed the kettle from the heating element and turned off the stove. She returned, slowly, to her seat in the living area with a blank expression. She sat slowly down with her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor. Looking up at Doctor Barker she admitted, "I'm going to miss my tea."

  "I'm sorry, Kathy. For a time, these little disappointments will come to you as small shocks, but given your profile I have no doubt that you will overcome them, and quickly."

  She sat silently a moment, then blinked a few times and corrected her posture. "Well…you were saying you have some additional information for me?"

  "Yes, another small shock I'm afraid. Kathy, some twenty months have passed since your surgery."

  "Twenty months," Kathy's jaw fell slack. "Why?"

  The suit spoke up now. "Major, unforeseen events caused a delay in our plans…so you were kept in stasis."

  "Unforeseen events? You left me in stasis for nearly two years because of unforeseen events!" Kathy's anger was evident despite the fact that her face did not turn red. "What am I to you, a tool you get out of the garage when you need me? Do you plan on putting me back into stasis when you're done with me?"

  "Calm down, Major." The suit advanced toward her. His voice was stern but barely above a whisper. "A lot changed while you slept. What I am about to tell you is of an extremely sensitive nature."

  Kathy glanced at the suit and said, "Crypto, I'm guessing."

  Without blinking the suit responded with, "Yes, yes, it is. We have an assignment for you, Major, one of the utmost importance that could, quite literally, mean the survival of the human species."

  ○O○

  Master Sergeant Dave Mitchel was one of the first people to become a SUB, and one of the first SUBs assigned to the Moon. This had happened many years prior when he'd been crushed by an engine removed from an LPC, a Lunar Personnel Carrier vehicle, while performing routine maintenance.

  After the devastating moonquake, and during the now classified battle with the terrorists that ensued, Dave had been severely damaged while defending the hospital. When the battle was over, he was evacuated to the JPL in California where he received a new body; the other was too far gone. He was transferred to another far more classified government facility in the desert of Nevada, and was there during the debriefing of the survivors of dome forty-five.

  Dave had lost one of the few friends he had in life to that quake and its unusual aftermath, Staff Sergeant Hugh Pacherd, himself a SUB. In one of their last conversations Hugh had revealed to Dave that he'd fallen love.

  Dave had never been the kind of guy to wear his heart on his sleeve, but he did hold out hope that perhaps his long existence would not have to be faced alone. He'd been alone for almost twenty years up on the cheese ball, and frankly, it sucked. However, Dave was not a man out on the make, either. He wouldn't even know how to be that guy. All his life, Dave had been shy around women, a trait he brought with him into his SUB existence. Dave figured he'd just trust in luck, besides he had the time—lots of time.

  He was off duty that evening and, with nothing else to do, he thought he'd go to the observation dome and watch the Earth rotate for a few hours. As he walked along, he passed the Crater House Restaurant, where once the owner had forbidden what he thought were 'robots' from entering the place. He didn't see them as humans. That had changed after the battle and it became a popular meeting place, even among SUBs.

  Dave happened to look inside and saw Mitch and Cassie O'Connell, and Matt and Susan Strum, the heroes of JILL, whom he knew by reputation. They were seated with Master Sergeant Chuck Alistair, who had been a friend to Captain Cris Salazar. Dave knew Chuck professionally and decided to drop in and say hello, and perhaps get an introduction to the hero SUBs of the Joint International Lunar Laboratory.

  He approached the table cautiously and stood a couple of meters away within Chuck's line of sight. Chuck was the only one at the table without an identifier floating near his head because Chuck was the only bio at the table. Everyone was laughing when Chuck looked up to see Dave.

  "Hey, Dave! Come on over, I'd like you to meet some friends of mine." Dave walked over with his head slightly down and a forced smile on his face.

  "Dave this is—"

  "No need to introduce your friends to me, Chuck. Everyone knows the Moon's first married couple, and of course, who doesn't know Mr. and Mrs. Strum—or should I say Major and Lieutenant Commander Strum."

  "Please, Chuck," the tall blond woman reached toward him, "I'm Susan, this is Matt, Mitch, and Cassie." There were warm smiles and handshakes all around.

  "Join us, won't you?" Matt asked.

  "Oh, thank you, sir, but I was just on my way to watch the Earth for a while, I don't want to barge in on your—"

  "Nonsense," Mitch exclaimed, "I'd be willing to bet that the Earth will be right there the next time you want to watch it spin."

  Susan smiled warmly and said, "Please, join us." Dave thanked everyone and sat down.

  "Dave, you're a maintenance section chief in dome seventeen's LPC garage, aren't you?" Cassie asked.

  "Yes, ma'am. I'm a grease monkey."

  "First off, Master Sergeant," Cassie said, "Mitch is a Staff Sergeant and I'm a Sergeant First Class, you out rank us both, so drop the ma'am stuff. Second, I in no way meant to belittle what it is you do. Your job, as are all jobs up here, is essential. You wouldn't be up here, were you not the best."

  "I'm sorry, I did not mean to sound offended. I've never been a real sociable guy and…well, I'm not very good at this small talk thing. I think I'm making everyone uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I'd better go." Dave rose to leave.

  "Sit down, Dave," Matt said, "that's an order." And then, he cracked a large smile.

  Dave sat slowly, smiled back and replied, reservedly, "Yes, sir."

  Matt paused a moment looking at Dave, then asked, "Say, weren't you at the fight in sector nine?"

  "Yes, sir, I was there."

  "Hey, we're off duty so my name's Matt."

  "Well, thank you, Matt. Yes, I was at sector nine under Sergeant Walker's command. At the time, I remember thinking he must be an Army Ranger or Navy Seal. It was all over before I learned he was an Air Force medic. Say, I haven't seen him in a while, is he okay?"

  "Oh, yeah," Matt said, "he and another friend of ours, Dolph, went back to Earth to attend Dolph's sister's wedding. They'll both be back next week."

  "Sergeant Walker i
s a good man. I want to be sure and say hello to him when he gets back."

  "I know he'd like that. All of us sort of keep a tight circle of friends around us. The price of admission is being a veteran of the battle for JILL. That would include you, Dave."

  Dave looked at Chuck. "Were you there, Chuck?"

  "Yeah. I was wounded, too. I got a new right eye, ear, and jaw as a souvenir."

  Dave looked closely at the side of Chuck's head. "Really? I can't tell at all."

  "Well, I can tell you got a new body," Chuck shot back, smiling.

  "You can?"

  "Sure…you're much better looking now!" Everyone started to laugh. Dave forced a laugh just to go along when the humor of Chuck's comment struck him and his laugh became genuine.

  The conversation turned to the ongoing reconstruction of JILL and the BSC, the Barbicane Science Center, which lead Susan to make an observation. "You know as work progresses throughout JILL, and more and more of Ava's systems come online, I'm able to access all the new areas of both JILL and the BSC."

  "I'm sorry," Dave asked, "did I understand you to say you can access the Advanced Virtual Acumen computer and use its systems?"

  "Yes Dave. I was—or more correctly, my Cybernetic brain was—once Ava's operating system. We still have a connection as a result of my intimate knowledge of Ava's design and capabilities. It's a long story."

  "Incredible." Dave was slack-jawed and wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, you were saying you can access areas throughout JILL?"

  "Yes, I can tell that there is a lot of construction going on all over the BSC, but I still have no access to any layer within sections twelve through two. In fact, I never did. There was very little damage to those sections. You’d think by this time something in there should have been activated, but there is no sound or picture, no telemetry whatsoever. I find that odd in the extreme. I asked Ava but she has no information. I inquired at Command Central and was given the run-around. So, I contacted Harry Linderman, the Chief of security, directly; as you may recall, he owes me. He told me that those areas are designed for IIEA projects of a highly-classified nature. That area will have its own organic Advanced Virtual Acumen computer proprietary to the IIEA."

  "Interesting," Mitch replied. "This will just add fuel to the fire for those conspiracy theorists who think the IIEA is too powerful and all controlling."

  "I can add to the mystery," Dave chimed in. "Some months ago, the IIEA requisitioned a large number of my Lunar Personnel Carriers and had me convert them to cargo haulers. They've been used to haul a classified cargo out to an undisclosed location, and then return with a classified cargo that is being delivered to the dark section of the BSC, sections twelve through two. I've looked at the odometers in the vehicles they use and learned that they are being driven a total of one hundred and seventy kilometers, every trip."

  “Do you know what direction your LPCs head out?” Chuck asked.

  "North by northwest," Dave whispered, looking about.

  "Milichius Crater is eighty-five clicks north, northwest, isn't it?" Chuck asked, rhetorically.

  "Yes."

  "I was recently in Command Central," Chuck went on, "for an overall maintenance briefing. Command Central is where the surface of the entire Moon is monitored to insure safe and accurate navigation. I happened to notice that Milichius Crater, and several kilometers around and above it, have been declared off limits and a no-fly zone. It's also a scanner dead zone."

  "You know what that sounds like to me?" Mitch asked.

  "A clandestine landing port," Susan replied.

  "Okay, wait a minute," Matt declared, raising a hand. "I don't disagree with any of this. It does appear that the IIEA is bringing in and sneaking out secret cargo. Let's just keep in mind that the IIEA is involved in a large number of classified projects for several member states. Secrecy is required. Remember, we are at war, and JILL has been penetrated by enemy agents before―as you doubtless recall."

  There was silence for several seconds, then Cassie murmured, "Yes, Matt, I'm sure you’re right."

  Susan took Matt's arm and laid her head on his shoulder. "I sure hope so," she sighed. "I believe we've been through enough."

  Chuck and Dave exchanged looks, then shared that look with Matt, who did not look convinced.

  ○O○

  In truth, Dave was a believer in most of the conspiracies swirling around the IIEA. Some months before the big lunar quake, there was some sort of power play in the upper tiers of the organization. A couple of people were even found dead. It had all the markings of a very hostile takeover. Afterward, the IIEA seemed to have adopted a new agenda and became very secretive.

  A serious net-nut could trace the conspiracy back over forty years when there was a persistent rumor that the IIEA had launched a secret deep space mission to an exoplanet orbiting a double star and perfectly positioned within their habitable zones. Such a planet is referred to as a Goldilocks planet. This rumor went on to proclaim that not only was the planet habitable, but that it was already inhabited.

  There was no proof that any of that story was true, but all these years later it was still out there. One theory maintained that the IIEA had found riches or some new power source there. Another was that they were preparing the planet for human habitation, perhaps to mine the place for whatever it possessed.

  Dave had heard the planet was made of gold, but he didn't believe that. Sure, gold was rare and valuable, but to bring back enough to make deep space flight affordable would mean rendering gold a common metal here, and thus destroying its value. The same would be true of any rare Earthly mineral, so there had to be some other reason.

  The power source story was a good guess: some inexhaustible supply of cheap limitless power.

  The idea of colonizing another world was not a new one, and had been the dream of countless people down through the ages. It could be just that simple.

  Then again, the whole thing could all be just a rumor with no foundation in truth at all.

  ○O○

  A few days later, Dave was faced with an interesting opportunity. A convoy of six LPCs was departing at 03:00 lunar headed for “IIEA destination one” as it was logged, but Dave knew it was Milichius. This morning, he had fifteen fueled LPCs sitting in the bay of dome seventeen, ready to go. It was well known that these guys maintained strict communications silence out there, so Dave decided to hop an LPC and fall in at the rear of their convoy. He'd take a peek for himself.

  He hid in a vehicle parked in the back of the dome and waited for the IIEA men to mount their vehicles. Once all their doors were closed, Dave got into the driver's seat. Before long, the convoy was headed north out of JILL. Dave was the last vehicle in the convoy. He maintained the same interval and speed, trying to look inconspicuous and hoping no one would be counting the vehicles as they drove over the tarmac.

  For the first time, Dave noted that the lunar surface for nearly the entire route to the crater was solid stone, having no dust in which to leave tracks.

  Arriving at the Milichius Crater, Dave observed it was roughly bowl-shaped, thirteen kilometers in diameter and almost two and a half kilometers deep with a flat bottom. He slowed, turned all his lights off, and pulled up next to the crater's rim. Looking down, Dave could see a winding road had been cut into the stone along the crater's sloping interior walls so that the LPCs could make their way to the bottom.

  Inside the crater a complete, modern, space port facility had been constructed. In the northwest extent of the bottom of the crater, a long wide opening had been cut into the rock. The tire tracks in the dust here told Dave that an underground storage area had been cut into the crater walls.

  A lunar lander, known as a milk cow because it delivered bulk supplies to JILL, was sitting inside the crater, and several metal crates were being loaded. The place was crawling with men in 'ess-ceps,' short for S.C.E.P.S., Self-Contained Environmental Protective Suits. Adding to the surreal look of the scene, all these men were armed.


  Dave had seen enough. He backed out and headed back to dome seventeen as fast as he could. As he rushed home, he wondered just who he could tell about what he'd seen. Who could he trust? Should he tell any of his new friends from the Crater House? It would only implicate them in his personal conspiracy. And what if, as Matt had suggested, he had only observed a small portion of a legitimate, classified operation. In that case, he'd just violated opsec, Operational Security, and operated a vehicle without a proper dispatch. He, of all people, should know better than that. So, he asked himself, just what have I seen?

  Returning to the dome, Dave drove into the vehicle airlock, awaited the pressure equalization, and then drove into the garage. He glanced up and, using his SUBs vision, zoomed into the control booth. Through the window, he could see five men in dark suits. As they made eye contact, his onboard vehicle COMde came to life. "Sergeant Mitchel, come to the control room. Acknowledge. Over."

  "This is Mitchel, acknowledged. Out." Dave exited the LPC and headed to the elevator that would take him up to the control room.

  Entering, he was not really surprised to see that the regular control room crew was absent and only the suits were present. The room was quite dim; only the lights from the many monitors and controls were providing what light there was. Dave, being a SUB, adjusted his vision to accommodate for the poor light. Something these biologicalicals could not do. As he adjusted his vision, Dave could see that these men had noticeable bulges at the left breast of their matching suit coats. They were armed.

  "Howdy, boys," Dave said, "is there a problem?"

  "I don't know, robot," the larger fellow said, "is there?"

  "There wasn't when I got here, but come on," Dave glanced around at the five men, "if you were me, what would you think?"

  "I'll tell ya what I think, I think for a talking machine, you're given far too much importance. Doctor Magobie wants to see you—right now."

  ○O○

  Doctor Badrani Magobie was the Chief Administrator of JILL. He had been assigned due to the death of Mr. Peacock during the battle. Among other things, Dr. Magobie was a theoretical physicist, but also a highly-respected bureaucrat with his oars deep in IIEA political waters.