Planets Falling

by James G. Scotson

  Bits of dirt and metal sprayed Fromer's face. Somone was firing at him with a simple rifle from an adjacent room. Fromer crouched behind an empty cargo container and lobbed a concussion grenade. Upon impact, the grenade collapsed the pocket of air around the shooter. She groaned as her eardrums ruptured from the implosion. Fromer jumped, grabbed her rifle, and ended her life.

  The visor computer calmly announced: "Assailant forward, ten meters, 25 degrees."

  Fromer realized this was a combatant in the adjacent room, waiting for him. He spoke calmly. "Come out and I will not harm you."

  The smoke lifted. Fromer stood facing the rear door as a squat, muscular figure appeared. Mup.

  "Hello old friend." Mup leaned on the threshold, twirling his lancet casually. It was still undeployed- contracted with no blade in sight. Fromer recalled the happy day Minna gave the weapon to Mup.

  "Mup. What are you doing here? Are you being held captive?" Fromer knew the answer but was still processing his disbelief.

  "Fromer, you know better. It could easily be you standing here. These people on the floor were my friends, my family. You killed them all. I can’t let this stand."

  Fromer sat on the container. "Mup, we have no friends and family. This was clear when we left the training world. You and I, we are freaks of the galaxy. Look at us. We can produce no offspring; we are lethal; we have no history."

  "My dear brother, you’re so very wrong. We’re free like the rest of them." Mup gestured to the fallen soldiers. "We owe allegiance to only those we choose. It's false that the Institute and zenats guide our future. They may have created us in a laboratory. No love or passion was present during our inception. But this doesn’t mean that we must live our lives devoid of these feelings. We aren’t tools of the Collective's greedy alliance. Can’t you see Fromer? They want control of it all."

  "You are deluding yourself Mup. Do you believe these people, these cold-blooded killers are your friends? They are driven by greed and profit, not a search for freedom. I daresay many of them pillage and destroy for the sheer joy of it. That is purely evil. They are agents of destruction and disorder. They are using you just as the Institute does- for your strength, intellect, and agelessness."

  "I fell in love, Fromer. She was the pilot on one of my missions for the Collective. We realized that we had similar stories. Both of us were indentured agents for the Families. We lost our childhood to the calculus of galatic progress. Her brother, another pilot, had already rebelled and joined our cause. She was working for us while she continued serving the Families."

  Fromer winced. He knew this was Lizza.

  "Of course, you knew her." Mup snarled. "When we learned that she was providing you, my friend, with our movements through her brother, she had to die."

  "Mup, I had just contacted her a few days before. She never had a chance to provide me with information. For all I know, she was planning to send me false leads and was still loyal to you and her brother."

  "Nice attempt to defuse the situation. You remain a diplomat at heart. She confessed before I killed her."

  Fromer was puzzled. Did Lizza have a deathwish? Could the impossible position of serving two worlds have been too much for her? He would never know.

  "Mup, you are lost. I need for you to surrender and tell your troops to give up."

  "We’re pirates. We serve no one but ourselves. And we don’t fear death. We planted fission charges throughout the canyon. I’ve set them to explode if your troops do not back off."

  "How do I know that you are not bluffing? They taught us well in school. This is a classic negotiation tactic."

  "I’ve rejected that life. Be certain my friend that I’m not bluffing. If you check the manifests of the Deacon, it was carrying five nuclear weapons. I’m sure you know that."

  Fromer had assumed the pirates sold the weapons to the underground markets. Scorching their loot, even in defense, did not seem to fit the pirate code of conduct. Still, the risk of losing the imprisoned passengers of the Stellar, about one hundred soldiers, plus untold amounts of contraband was unacceptable. He spoke into his transmitter and ordered his troops to fall back. Given the poor transmission quality in the crevasse, he was unsure whether he was heard by all. But the sound of fighting outside waned.

  "Mup, we will starve you out. There is no winning this conflict. We will keep you confined to the canyon until you surrender. We can wait years if necessary."

  "The passengers of the Stellar will provide some bargaining power. We discovered a Family member among their ranks: Destin Fuerst."

  Fromer was seldom surprised. But there was no information about Destin being on this ship or missing for that matter. "Mind if I check your veracity?"

  "By all means check, old friend."

  The Institute Command confirmed that Destin was missing, although he was not listed as a passenger on the Stellar manifest. Fromer also received an encoded message, only visible in his visor screen: DESTROY ENEMY AT ANY COST.

  Fromer considered the impossible vision of his friend. They last saw each other nearly 15 years ago at some dull conference in nauron space. No conversations occurred between them. But Mup tipped his hat to his friend and Fromer knew their bond had not broken. How Mup had changed since then. But it wasn’t surprising. The sheer loneliness, the detachment, even the boredom was enough to send the brightest and most fortified into a tailspin. He had struggled himself. But to become a wanton, profit-driven killer? This made no sense. The Mup he knew and, yes, loved, was gone. It was time for Fromer to call his bluff.

  Chapter 30 – Fight

  Mup was ready when Fromer launched into the air and lunged toward him. Mup stepped backwards into the room behind him. When Fromer landed, the other hybrid had vanished. The cramped space was empty with the exception of a few chairs and a HM interface console. Fromer consulted his visor computer, which revealed a false wall behind the console table. Mup must have slipped through this way, Fromer thought.

  After carefully surveying the space for traps and finding none, Fromer walked to the wall. When he touched it, his hand passed through. Holographic image, I will be damned. He gingerly poked through to find stairs leading down into the tunnel network. Mup could have gone anywhere.

  He was greeted by a child's cough in the darkness.

  "Who is there? I am Fromer, a member of the Collective Command."

  "Thank God." An adult male voice responded. "We’re the surviving passengers of the Stellar. Can you get us out of here? We’re dying of thirst."

  Fromer stepped down, still wary he was walking into a trap. In a passageway to his right was a small glowing door - the faint signature of a protective field. "Stand away from the door and cover your eyes." He pulled a small gun-like item from his pack, aimed it at the door, and a plug of plasma screeched through the air. Upon contact, the door melted and the field disappeared. Fromer cautiously moved forward, his lancet firmly in his hand. One face, then another, and then six were peering at him through the entryway.

  At first, one of them screamed, mistaking Fromer for Mup. Then they recognized his uniform - the patch with a red circle for mars and an open hand for zenat. He was an agent from home. Two human children ran toward him and grabbed his legs.

  "Careful children. I am going to call in an extraction team. How many of you are there and are there others we should be searching for?"

  A bedraggled man garbed in what was once the dress of an affluent mars citizen spoke. "My name’s Destin. There were fifteen of us. They killed the pilot and three crew members. The rest of us are in here. We’re tired and dehydrated, but otherwise fine. Please help the kids first."

  A group of six soldiers plus a shuttle arrived a few moments later. Fromer bid them luck and advanced into the tunnels. He dropped his visor and searched for information in the network of tunnels. A faint trace of warm air and elevated carbon dioxide wafted from one of the leftmost holes. These were taletell signs of a sentient. Given the high readings, Mup had crouched there in t
he dark, watching, for quite some time.

  Fromer called down the tunnel. "Mup, my brother, it is not too late. I can help you. But you have to reconsider engaging the charges."

  He heard a faint, muffled laugh. Mup was playing with him. Fromer advanced quickly and silently, avoiding puddles and gravel and remaining vigilant in the pitch. His visor streamed information about heat and gas levels, which were rapidly rising. He closed in on his quarry. As he neared what appeared to be a blind end, a metallic thud shook him to his core. He looked up to see a massive door coming down. He stepped back and lobbed a plasma charge at the closed portal; within seconds the ceiling was gaping open, inviting him to jump up.

  Fromer crouched and released the energy coiled in his legs, rising easily into what appeared to be another building. He spun around in time to see Mup's lancet blade arcing toward him with a crack of a whip. The blade found Fromer's shoulder, slicing an inch into his muscle. Blood spouted. No time for pain, Fromer. He crouched again and lept several feet over Mup's head. As Mup turned, Fromer unleashed his lancet, running toward his friend. Before Mup could react, Fromer's lancet was lodged in his opponent’s neck. Mup stared in disbelief as he fell to his knees. Blood ran in rivulets between his fingers.

  "Mup, you are still dear to me. But you are lost. Please tell me how to deactivate the charges as your final act. Be heroic. If not for them, do it as one gift to an old and only friend."

  The deep black of Mup's eyes was fading to gray. He pointed across the room to a console and crumpled to the ground. Fromer ran to the interface and scrolled through the menus. This wasn’t a weapons terminal. Rather, it appeared to be a series of inventory logs. He pointed to "weapons" on the menu and saw that the Deacon's nuclear arsenal was sold in entirety to a group called the FRT. He was relieved that Mup was bluffing about the trap. However, he had no knowledge of the FRT and why this group would want such destructive and dirty weapons. Fromer would spend the better part of his next fifty years unraveling this mystery.

  With the risk of a nuclear-fueled collapse gone, the Collective troops descended on the colony. Two days of furious fighting ensued, mostly involving messy hand-to-hand incursions in tunnels. Both sides were steeped in blood, but the superior numbers and far greater firepower of the Collective prevailed. A thousand pirate soldiers, including a hundred children and a few prisoners, were discovered in the hidden city.

  From the shuttles, it was impossible to see the remaining buildings of the pirate colony through the thick, opressive smoke. Bodies were already decaying- the smell of death clung to the survivors as if reminding them that they might not be so lucky next time. Fromer returned to the building where he and Mup sparred for the last time. He always was faster. Mup should have known better.

  Fromer entered the room at dusk. Mup's body was heaped in the corner where Fromer left it. Fromer leaned down and waved away the flies. It amazed him how certain animals followed sentients, no matter how desolate the conditions. He wagered that long after the pirate colony was cleared and all sentients left the planet, the nauron terraformers would be contending with the vermin. He picked up Mup's limp body and placed it in his shuttle. He shook his head as the shuttle lifted and headed for the Fuerst.

  Etch moored the Fuerst at a location equidistant between old earth and zenat. Fromer entered the cargo bay alone. Mup's body was zipped in bag, lying on the floor of the room. Fromer suited up, opened the bay doors, and gently guided Mup to his resting place in the vacuum. Fromer was uncertain how he should feel. Confused and conflicted were the best descriptors, he supposed. Mup had grasped at free will, but it corrupted him. Would Fromer meet a similar fate if he turned his back on his responsibilities?

  To the Institute, Mup no longer existed. All evidence of his exploits, adventures, and eventual self-exile was purged from the system. After all, it would be alarming if the galaxy learned that the protectors of human-zenat relations were going rogue. It might mean the end of collaboration and perhaps even war between the two species. This burden Fromer and his kind knew all too well.

  Chapter 31 – Ghosts

  "It's another insect-man, hybrid thing. Fromer, your brother is out here." Verat exclaimed as the glowing creature jumped above their heads and ran into a nearby gorge.

  Fromer appeared at the gangway, exuding a combination of fear and curiosity. Mup was frozen in deep space. And Mup was here. Ghosts indeed walked this world. Fromer looked at Verat. "Where did he go?"

  Verat whistled. "Well, I’m not disappointed so far." He pointed at the gorge. "Are you going to follow him?"

  "Of course not. You all did see him?"

  The group nodded. Grey stepped forward. "This individual was your kind, right? Did you recognize him?"

  Fromer calculated for a moment. "He appeared to be hybrid, but I did not recognize him."

  "But I thought you said a name?" Grey queried.

  "For a moment, he looked like someone I knew nearly a century ago. He is long dead."

  Grey gathered the crew. "Well, our fears appear to be true. A clandenstine group is here on the planet. We don't know how many people there are or their purpose. In anticipation, we’ve armed the security detail." He glared at Fromer while saying this. "Fromer and his guard will accompany all expeditions. No one else is authorized to carry weapons. We don’t need a bunch of trigger happy scientists shooting at each other in the fog."

  Melat hopped back toward the shuttle, examining the hull. "I’ll prepare the vessel for a lift off in case we need to leave in a hurry. Don't go missing me while I'm away." She vanished through the portal. The crew exchanged anxious looks.

  The scientists and soldiers spent the day erecting shelters and setting up a technology station. Cabling was strewn about. Open containers were used as makeshift furniture. Grey announced his plan. Gorian and Melat would remain at the shuttle site and coordinate communication, protected by two guards, Banna and Tyrrel. Iggy, Grey, Verat, Fromer, Fen and two soldiers- Minns and Rhodes - would head uphill, north to the location of the most electrical activity. All would take samples along the way.

  Grey expected the first expedition from camp to take forty eight hours. They’d follow magnetic north on their compasses. Almost all terraformed planets had a magnetic field. Interestingly, the Institute's home world of mars didn’t have one. It had to be generated by huge reactors on both poles. These magnetic polar waves formed a protective shield from the sun's harmful rays and were necessary to allow life to thrive. Nine, like old earth, had an unusually strong natural magnetic field, making it very desirable for life but difficult for radio communications, especially at the poles.

  Travel progressed smoothly. At each kilometer, they stopped to sample. Iggy dragged behind the others, diligently collecting samples of air and glancing at his data tablet.

  "Can you hurry it up Ig? Have you devolved into a slug?" Verat asked.

  "What's the hurry Verat?" Grey was clearly annoyed. "We need to make sure these data are clean and precise. Iggy’s doing a great job."

  Iggy turned to Verat and grinned widely with his toothless mouth.

  Verat growled and kneeled down to sample a puddle of water.

  The vegetation thickened. Grey categorized species he’d never seen before. It was as if his father had designed an entirely novel set of cultivars for this world.

  "Do you think there’s contamination from the illegals? The smugglers could’ve planted this stuff." Grey asked.

  Verat chuckled. "You really are naïve or deluded. Do you think that Fromer-like thing was really a pirate or a smuggler? I swear it was transparent. We’re seeing ghosts, Grey. Or we’re having a wicked mass hallucination. The creature is just like the ones we saw from space. I think we all may be tripping on some drug in the air."

  Fen stopped and sat down. He unbuckled a boot and began rubbing his foot. "This is exactly as he predicted." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

  "Uncle Fen, what are you saying?"

  "Grey, I haven't been completely forth
right with you. With you all. Your father was obsessed with this planet. He said he had discovered some late writings by Pinchot Ferris, after the fall of earth. Everyone discounted her research when she became a recluse. But he felt that she was on to something. He talked incessantly about life being a doorway to another universe. Like a biological quantum drive, but far more powerful."

  "I have some notes that I’ve been trying to decipher for years. Uncle Fen, I think you should take a look." Grey produced his data tablet from his pack.

  Fen looked at the screen for a long time. "These are ancient runes from home. The sentients used them occasionally in burial chambers. I don't know much about them." He pointed to a string of symbols next to his father's documentation on Nine's geology. "See these? The sentients used each symbol to represent a simple concept, similar to some writing used by old earth cultures. These seem to represent water and lightning or electricity. This one that looks like a snake? I think it means close to the ground. And this one, I know for sure - it represents danger or death. It’s almost as if he was writing about hazards on the planet. Something related to the electrical field and perhaps the biology? Hard to say really."

  Verat laughed. "This gets better all the time. Now we have some symbology that warns us that we might get zapped or strangled by a snake? Was your dad playing some sick joke on us? I loved that man, but he did have some quirks."