“I don't like this, Frank. It's suicide,” Dave's tone was dark.
“I'll tell you what. You guys have the other boat ready in case there's a chance I can use the backup. I don't even know if we will be able to dock.”
“Frank, I will see to that,” Phildan said.
“Cool. Gladys can bring you up remotely if needed. Bett, can you fly one of those freighters?”
“Yes.”
“I'm not making you do this if you don't want to though.”
“I am not getting any younger,” Bett joked.
“It's settled then. I'll sneak in and do my thing. If I fail, we'll blow the dome. I realize it will kill any innocent civilians that are up there, but that would be way more merciful than what the Mingrein will do to them. If I succeed, we'll load up the people on a freighter and Bett can fly them back down. Hiro, I'll be using that Japanese blade. I'd call this one a special occasion.”
“I would agree. Maybe I should go with you,” Hiro said.
“One space suit.” Frank didn't want to say that this was a one way trip.
* * *
Frank was sitting on his knees in the floor of his living room. His Japanese katana was laying on the floor in front of him. Nothing he tried could slow down his racing heart. Feeling as if it was coming to the end, he found he actually had something to live for now. But he opted to not tell her, as his death was finally imminent, and he didn't want her hanging onto that thought for the rest of her long life.
“Leaving the atmosphere,” Phildan reported. Frank knew it wouldn't be long now. The boat really sped through open space.
“Bett?” he asked.
“Yes, my friend?”
“What do you want to do after this is done?”
“I suppose I will go swimming. And catch many fish.”
“Are you content with Earth? Is there somewhere else you would rather live?”
“Earth is fine, but I will never fully be accepted there. And Lian is a terrible place. If I had a choice, I would go back to Nuun. With this suit, the waters would be mine for the rest of my life.”
“I feel like there's still people there.”
“There are. But I know a remote place where they no longer visit. It's far away from the caverns where they have found sanctuary.”
“That sounds nice. I hope we can work that out for you.”
“It isn't expected. That is more than I could hope for.”
“You deserve to live in happiness. If I make it through this, I hope I can visit you there.”
“You would always be most welcome. Have you given thought to what we talked about before.”
“Yes, Bett. That's how I'm going to play it.”
* * *
Gladosanthos was too busy worrying to pay close attention to the conversation aboard the boat. While she understood that Frank was a man of action, she didn't fully understand how he expected to succeed in this mission. She muted the audio to her remote and put her hands to her temples, on the verge of tears.
“Sister, I have an idea,” Constanthos said.
Gladosanthos raised her head, wiped her eyes, and asked, “What is it?”
“Have Frank put two remotes into his pockets. We can set them to pull downward to mimic Earth gravity. By using two, we can split the load and keep him balanced.”
“And anchored! Those beasts won't know what hit them!”
“Precisely.”
“Oh my sister, how I love you and your genius.” She un-muted the audio.
* * *
“Frank, may I have a word?” Gladosanthos asked in an unusually joyous tone.
“Yeah, sure. What's up?”
“In private, please.”
“Certainly.” He followed the floating orb out of the living room and into his bedroom.
“I need you to put a remote into each of your front pockets.”
“Huh? I don't understand.”
“I will set them on auto to be six times heavier than normal. That should keep you anchored like you are accustomed to on Earth.”
He thought it over for a moment before exclaiming, “Brilliant! How long will they last?”
“By using two to split the load, they should hold for a couple of hours at least. And they will be balanced.”
“I am very impressed. I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“This needs to work, Frank.”
“I'd prefer it to work. The alternative doesn't seem very appealing.” He didn't want to say that if it did indeed work, he'd lose her forever anyway.
“I can't imagine the galaxy without Frank Ford.”
“Wow. I don't know what to say. Throughout this whole thing....you....you've been just....great. I'm glad you picked me.”
“There is an old theory. It says everything is connected. Over the years, I've seen it for myself. I'm starting to believe we were meant to meet. We were meant to undertake this task together.”
Frank was pondering that theory when Phildan popped his head into the room. “We're here.”
“Hold tight, Phil. Thanks.”
“Frank, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure. Anything.”
“Why did you reject Denise's advances?”
Feeling embarrassed, Frank answered, “Oh, you saw that?”
“Yes. I apologize for invading your privacy.”
Frank thought about it for a second. “Well, at least I didn't say or do anything to totally embarrass myself.”
“But why did you turn her down? Most of the other guys seem to find her very attractive.”
“She is very pretty. I'm not going to lie. But I don't really know her. And girls like her wouldn't give me the time of day if I wasn't saving their lives.”
She now realized that all of her research on the topic was incorrect. “There is a depth to you that I am continuously surprised by.”
“Thanks, but I really am a simple man. But now isn't the best time for this conversation.” To himself he was thinking, “Tell her. Just tell her. No, you're only a human. And you were picked for this. To die.”
27.
“Right there,” Bett said, pointing at a spot on the screen. “The automatons take out the carcasses through that airlock. I believe you can slip in there.”
“Okay. How does this thing work?” Frank was holding the mask that Bett and Phildan had fashioned for him to interface with his new varitherm suit.
“Strap it over your head. Good. Now pull the suit up over your head.” Phildan walked him through it as the suit found it's way into Frank's shoes and formed gloves over his hands. It will not unseal so long as you're in the vacuum of space.”
Pulling the suit down momentarily, Frank asked, “So how much air do I have?”
“Twenty minutes, give or take.”
“Give or take what?”
“The heaviness of your breathing. Or any miscalculations on our part.” Phildan was so matter of fact about it that Frank was beginning to feel uncomfortable. But Phildan didn't make a habit out of miscalculation.
“Okay then, how do I look?” Frank's suit was covered by his shoes, blue jeans, and an extra large Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt that he found was ironic, and served the purpose of covering the bulges in his pockets.
“I don't understand the question,” Phildan said.
“Neither do I,” added Bett.
“After you explained the shirt, I've decided that you look terrific,” Gladosanthos said.
“Thanks, babe. Let's do this.”
* * *
The dark side of the moon isn't always dark. But the shadows were too well defined to drop Frank too close to the airlock. The boneyard was situated in a crater that the old Li automechs were accessing via a makeshift walkway that stretched about twenty feet away from the airlock. Frank's feet touched down on the dusty surface of the moon clear on the opposite side of that crater. Within a minute of trying to traverse the path to the airlock, circumventing the crater, he found that as
usual, his internal clock was failing him. He had no idea how long he walked for, as he sometimes had to feel his way along, being in a well defined shadow most of the time. He tried not to dwell on the contents of the pit, bones of mostly cattle and swine, but with a defined human skull in the mix throughout. As he passed along the left side of the crater, which from above had seemed far more passable, he noticed a pile of refuse to his left. He looked closer to discover what was clearly Marine uniforms. The eight men from the raid on Texas were all present, their remains preserved by the cold vacuum. Pointing at it so the orb that was almost always over his shoulder could take note, he pressed on. He reached the airlock, which opened presently, as an automech was hauling out the remains of the latest meal. He slipped inside, trying not to dwell on the freshly gnawed human remains as they instantly frosted over in the cold. After what seemed like an eternity, the automech returned and he followed it the rest of the way inside.
Holding his hand on the handle of his sword, Frank was ready to lay waste to a legion of whatever he was to face upon entering the dome. But to his surprise, he emerged to find a garden. It was growing a crop that looked similar to soybeans, spreading out over the entire vast space, only interrupted by the walkways like the one he found himself standing on. Unarmed Rotinoms were tending the crops, totally oblivious to his presence. He removed his mask to find the air to be hot and moist, yet breathable. He placed it upon a ledge on the wall and began to walk through the garden toward the ring of tunnels that connected the domes.
“You really should take that with you,” Gladosanthos said.
Frank's tone was darker than usual when he replied, “It's almost out of air anyway. No point.”
“The blood poisoning must have made the soldiers inedible.”
“That doesn't add up to me. Surely humans have been shot and then eaten before.”
“Humans have evolved differently on each planet. Something made their projectiles foul the flesh.”
“Good. I'm glad those men died that way instead of being eaten alive.”
She could think of no response. She could only follow in silence, wondering what had changed in him. They had passed through the garden without incident, and Frank was looking at a door that led to the tunnels that connected the domes. He waved his hand over a motion detector he spotted to the right. Nothing happened. So he punched it so hard that the glass broke, as well as his hand. The door opened, and as he crouched down to survey the contents of the tunnel, his hand healed. He darted into the tunnel and followed it's slow leftward curve, hugging the left side of the wall to conceal himself, all the while clutching the sword, his right hand on the handle and his left on the sheath. Hearing a noise ahead, he moved his right hand to his shuriken pouch. Pulling two, he kept one in his right hand, putting the other at the ready between his left hand fingers which were wrapped around the sheath. Seeing two Mingrein engaged in an argument, he let the first one fly, and then the other. While neither was enough to kill them, his quick work with the sword ensured their death. He only paused to appreciate the blade momentarily before pressing on toward the center dome with a left turn in the tunnel. The bright light of the connecting tunnels quickly dimmed as he made his way, and the red hue of his nightmares then took over his vision. Terror struck a deep nerve within him, but still he pressed on, his resolve unencumbered.
“I said no challenges until the matter of the Gray Man is settled!” Groll had kicked the challenger almost halfway across the center dome as he said it. The actions provided Frank with the distraction he was needing to make his way over to the humans cowering against the outside wall of the dome, to the right of the tunnel he emerged from. Sitting down with his back against the wall to blend in, he surveyed his surroundings. Directly across the giant room laid some makeshift fencing which contained a few cattle and pigs. The humans weren't fenced off, as they had nowhere to run or hide anyway. They simply cowered along the wall, waiting for their turn to die. The smell was nearly unbearable, but Frank did his best to ignore it, instead searching the faces of the terrified humans. Finally he spotted Jones, leaning much like himself with his back against the dome wall. The actions at the opposite end of the dome, where Groll stood upon an elevated platform, held the other Mingreins' attention, so Frank crawled over to where his friend sat.
“Jones,” he whispered.
Robert's eyes were wide open with terror for a few more moments before he registered any recognition. “Frank?” he whispered. “How did you get here? Did you get captured too?”
“No. I walked right in. Gladys is here too. We're going to try to get you out of here. Everyone.”
“I've been shot.”
“I know. How do you feel?”
“It hurts. But I don't seem to be getting sick.”
“I think they had to change their ammo. I'll explain later. Do you think you can walk?”
“I'll sure as fuck walk out of here!”
“Good. If my plan works, I'll need you to lead these people that way.” He pointed to a tunnel over to the right of the livestock pen. “Down the tunnel to where it ends, a right, then a left to a parked freighter. If all goes well, Bett will be there to fly you all out of here.”
The hardened focus of the big man was returning. “Okay, Frank. Just tell me when.”
“I think you'll know. Did they take your phone?”
“No, I still got it. No signal obviously.”
“If this works, I'll need you to call ahead for coordinates for where to take these people. I just now realized I didn't ever ask anyone.”
“What if it doesn't work?”
“I have seven bombs with me. I've placed one on the dome I came in. And one right over there.” He pointed to the area near the tunnel he entered from.
Jones pondered his situation briefly before speaking. “I think we'd all agree that's a much better way to die. The last guy they picked. I...I can't believe....”
“Well, that part is over.”
“Thank you, Frank.”
“Don't thank me yet. This is going to get real ugly.”
* * *
Creel was doing his best to keep his brothers settled. Having forged a loose alliance with Groll during the early days of their exodus from Lian, he was determined, now, to see this through. But the challenges came, as expected, and Groll defended his throne as the customs commanded. The Gray Man had been an unexpected obstacle, but the Adviser hadn't steered them wrong yet. They had lost far more Mingrein to the Earthling than at any other point of their journey. Creel had doubts to their ability to control such a large population on a strange planet with just the couple hundred soldiers they had left. How he wished they hadn't wasted their opportunity on Nuun.
“Creel, a word.” Groll gestured for Creel to join him near the door that led to the Adviser's private chamber.
“Yes, Sire?”
“The Adviser says the Gray Man will come here. He plans to rescue his people.”
“I would not be surprised if that is the case.”
“I will kill him.”
“With all due respect, Sire, all reports suggest his fighting proficiency is beyond remarkable.”
“Do you doubt me?”
“No, Sire. I only wish you to be prepared. He carries the Curse of the Sessik.”
Groll looked around before lowering his tone. “We have acclimated ourselves to the low gravity of this moon. So far as we know, the Gray Man of Earth has never encountered low-gravity combat. I will have a distinct advantage. He will die, and the Earth will be ours.”
“Brilliant, Sire!” Creel was pleased to hear this, as he wanted to keep Groll around so he could overthrow him himself, when the time was right.
* * *
“Gladys, get somewhere out of reach.” Frank took a deep breath. He couldn't believe that none of the lizards had noticed that he'd joined the crowd. With a nod to Jones, he stood up and walked toward the center of the vast room.
“Groll! I challenge your throne!” The vo
lume of his voice surprised him. And he could feel his throat healing already from the damage he had inflicted by using the Mingrein language so loudly. He shifted his eyes to see every Mingrein turn to face him. Several drew their blades, but they stood their ground, growling and hissing. He then decided that since they weren't moving on him, he should make his way toward the platform. As he walked, Groll and another Mingrein appeared from a hallway at the rear of the elevated area.
“You aren't Mingrein. You have no right to challenge,” Groll answered with a chuckle.
“So you choose to deny my challenge and keep running away like a coward?” These words invoked the desired reaction as the growls and hisses were now being directed toward Groll himself. Bett had been correct with his assessment. Groll was losing the respect of his soldiers.
“Fine. I accept your challenge. When you are dead there will be nothing to stand in our way.” The second Mingrein stepped away and descended the steps as Frank moved forward. Groll was immense, and drew the largest great blade Frank had ever seen. But Frank just held his katana in his left hand, still sheathed.
The platform stretched in a great semicircle with three steps following the arc from wall to wall inside the largest, center dome. Directly in the center, at the rear, was the hallway which Frank could now see led to a single door. Man and beast began to slowly circle each other. Finally, Groll bounded forward with a powerful overhead chop with his blade. Frank easily sidestepped it. But instead of striking back, he used words to deal the blows.
“A population of over seven billion must have been pretty enticing,” he said as Groll regrouped from his blunder and came back with another swing that Frank hopped back and to the left to avoid. “Lots of livestock and game animals too, as you know.” Groll was becoming frustrated and attempted a combination move. Feinting another swing, he turned and went for a tail whip. Frank caught the massive tail under his left arm and hooked the handle of his sword underneath. Then reaching up and under with his right hand, he lifted Groll's massive body clear over his head and slammed him, face first, onto the floor. “You know what we do with the livestock, right?” Groll got to his feet to continue his attack. He realized now that the Gray Man had somehow neutralized his gravity disadvantage. But it was too late to stop now. He tried for another overhead chop but this time Frank didn't move. He simply held his still sheathed sword up, catching both of Groll's elbows and stopping the swing abruptly, and punched him directly in the face. Groll flew backward as Frank shouted, “We eat them!” Groll turned as if to flee only to realize that Frank had been leading the fight toward the wall. “Seven billion humans, most of whom are meat-eaters!” Groll lunged again but this time Frank's blade came out and severed Groll's sword arm just below the shoulder.
Custodian_Monster of Earth Book One Page 26