by Dani Kollin
“Forgive me for activating without being called, but I believe you’re in danger.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“I will interface with the battle scanner attached to your belt and see if there’s another way out of here.”
“While you’re doing that, see if you can patch into the sensors and see what the hell is going on around here.”
The battle scanner buzzed. “I’ve been able to access the sensor net.”
“And?”
“A gray bomb was set off in the main docking area—the area is no more. Also an enemy ship appeared, I don’t know from where, and destroyed the shuttle.”
“Can you get this damn door open?”
“I’m sorry, Justin. I cannot.”
“Well, isn’t that great? I got everybody killed for a fucking prop.”
“If you’re referring to the suspension unit, I can assure you it’s real.”
“How?” asked Justin, looking back once again at the sarcophagus. “Because this door has not been opened for over seventy years, eight months, three days, five hours—”
“Got it, sebastian. But those rec ords could be faked.”
“No. I could explain the multiple levels of verification GCI installed to prevent just such a breach, but that would take approximately four hours and twelve minutes. By my estimate you have only seven minutes until the nanites reach this roo—”
Sebastian suddenly found himself cut off from the network of disk four. One moment he was talking to Justin and the next moment he wasn’t. At first he thought it was the nanites destroying more vital systems, but it only took a quick check to see that they hadn’t yet reached into section four. It was only then that Sebastian realized he wasn’t alone. Another avatar was in the station Neuro with him and it had been that avatar who shut him out. Even worse, the avatar had done a good job. Sebastian knew that he was fast approaching the time when if he was going to escape intact he’d have to beam his program to a storage unit buried in a small rock no one would look twice at. But he needed to witness Justin’s demise. Before Sebastian could act, though, a virus started to attack what was left of the station Neuro—even ahead of the rapacious nanites. The other avatar had struck yet again. Sebastian was cornered. All he could do was leave.
“Still with me, sebastian?” asked Justin.
“Pardon me for breaking contact, sir. The network is breaking down and it’s disrupting my ability to remain in contact.”
“Any other good news?”
“Actually, yes. I believe I have found a way to save you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I’ve regained access to the hallway surveillance system,” said the avatar. “It appears that the door lock has been dissolved. You can manually open it now.”
Justin moved to the door and was slowly able to force it open. He smelled burnt plastic and scorched metal, but the corridor still seemed intact, if not cold and empty.
“Sir, we will need to get to the disk four emergency air lock.”
“Not without him,” Justin said, going back in the storage unit and activating the magnetic pallet.
The facility shook violently and Justin was thrown to the floor. He sprang back up.
“There’s not enough time,” warned the avatar. “There’d better be, sebastian, Good people died for me and whoever this is deserves as much of a shot as I do, more even, as he was fine before I showed up.” Justin maneuvered the magnetic pallet around the tight corridor and started following the signs to the air lock.
“If I understand what you’re getting at correctly,” continued Justin, “all I have to do is blast out of the air lock with Mr. Corpsicle here and we should be blown clear of the gray bomb nanites. Then we just wait for pickup.”
“Normally,” responded the avatar, “that is the procedure in a situation like this.”
“Why do I hear a ‘but’ coming?” asked Justin as he ran with the mag pallet as fast as he could, occasionally banging it into a wall with the convulsions of the structure. It helped that all the doors were wide open, but he still managed to clip a couple of corners.
“I was unable to finish my report,” the avatar answered. “The enemy ship destroyed the shuttle, but one of your miners was able to eject and float free. He was shot down in space.”
“Bastards!” screamed Justin, knowing that even in acts of war it was considered the worst thing you could do to a fellow spacer. But this wasn’t an act of war, he realized. This was assassination pure and simple.
“The ship is still out there, Justin. It appears to be leaving debris alone, but anything that could be a homing beacon or a person is being scanned.”
They made it to the air lock. “Justin,” you could remove the person inside and take their place. You put the corpse in your suit and activate the homing signal and then get in the sarcophagus. I could rig the system to blow you both out the air lock. The corpse will get destroyed by the ship, but they should leave the sarcophagus alone, with an excellent chance of your getting found soon.”
Justin hesitated for a split second. “No, friend. I’ve had my time. I will not deprive this person of theirs because of my mistake. They deserve a chance.”
“Justin, you’re the President of the Alliance. We don’t know who’s in there. Your choice is not logical.”
Justin wiped the sweat from his brow. “When a person starts to believe that their life is more important than someone else’s because of who they are, it’s a good bet the opposite is true.”
“That is illogical. The only way you can prove your life is worth more than the person in the sarcophagus is to give them your chance.”
Justin grinned in a way that most of his friends would’ve recognized and all of them would soon miss. It was one of genuine amusement because the joke was on him.
“I guess that’s real lucky for the bastard inside.”
Justin opened the first door of the air lock and moved the sarcophagus inside. It shook violently as he heard the sound of metal being torn asunder. There was a sudden rush of air from deep in disk four.
“Justin,” said the avatar, “the blast door from three to four has just given way. The nanites now have access to this area.”
Justin closed the first door of the air lock.
“Sir, wait a moment. There is a chance. Not much of one, but a chance nonetheless.”
“I’m not against a chance, no matter how slim, sebastian. How do you think I ended up in this century?”
“OK, then. You’ll need to get out of the mech unit and strip off all your clothes.”
“OK,” said Justin, beginning the process as quickly as he could manage.
“Then,” continued the avatar, “you’ll need to stuff the clothes back into the suit; it should automatically pressurize, giving it the appearance of a person.”
“Uh, sebastian,” said Justin, stepping out of the mech unit, “I see a little problem here. I’ll be in space without a space suit. That’s not good for my well-being.”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, sir, but you can be revived from being frozen in space. I don’t see how you can be revived after being disintegrated by nanites or blow to smithereens by an enemy ship.”
“Good point.” Without waiting, Justin stripped off his remaining clothes and quickly stuffed them back into the suit. As the avatar had promised, the suit re-pressurized.
“You’ll need to activate the inflatable helmet—that will automatically seal the suit for space … there’s a large button on the front collar.”
Justin did exactly as he was told.
“Now take out the cylinder of protector nanites located in the suit’s left arm, upper section.”
“Got it,” said Justin.
“Good. Now spray the cannister on yourself and the sarcophagus. If you encounter any stray attacking nanites it should provide you with enough protection to ward them off.”
It only took a moment to empty the can. Soon the air lock was filled
with an inflated battle suit, a naked man, and an ebony and green sarcophagus, all covered by a thin veil of white mist.
“You should open the air lock now,” said Justin softly.
“Actually, sir, given the spin of disk four, if we stagger the release, with the space suit going first, it should draw the attention of the enemy ship. We follow it with the sarcophagus, which could be confused with the rest of the debris, and, last, you. I think that sequence will work best.”
“Do it.”
“Move the space suit near the door and clamp the magnetic pallet. After the suit is gone I will be too. Next you’ll need to activate the pallet’s levitate command and move it near the door. Then hang on tight to the latch as you release the pallet. When it’s gone wait for the outer door to open again and then kick off the wall with all your might. It should help get you clear of the station. Do you have all that?”
“Yes, and, sebastian?”
“What is it, Justin?”
“I know you’re just a bunch of ones and zeros, but thank you.”
“That is not necessary, sir.”
“You have it anyway. If avatars have a heaven I hope you make it … and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Will you please stop calling me ‘sir’?”
“Opening the door,” said the avatar. The outer seal disappeared briefly and the battle armor was immediately sucked out of the air lock.
Justin Cord waited alone with the sarcophagus, standing naked and about as scared as he’d ever been in his life. Not even his burial in the mountain could compare to this. Then he’d been sick and dying, with nothing to lose. Now he was young and healthy, with centuries of life to look forward to. A part of him wanted to rip the sarcophagus apart and leap in. But he didn’t move. Then he heard the air-lock alarm and grabbed the latch.
“You’d better be worth it,” he said, looking down on the sarcophagus and holding tight to the latch with a death grip. The air lock opened and the suspension unit was sucked out of the room. The tiny space barely repressurized before the alarm sounded again. He stared momentarily through the porthole window into the air lock’s antechamber. He could see the walls behind it dissolving. Then the air lock opened for the last time and Justin Cord, naked and alone, was thrust into the depths of space. He knew enough to exhale all his air. As his mind grew cloudy he remembered the last time he was alone like this. It was at the Cerean Sea. His final conscious act was to stretch his body out, put his hands behind his head, and float off into a sea of stars looking up across the universe.
Epilogue I
Sebastian was standing in the camouflaged storage unit. From the outside it appeared as a small and inconsequential asteroid meandering aimlessly in space. The built-in data net had allowed for one reasonably sized work area. He chose to create a smoking room apportioned with two large, comfortable leather chairs situated in front of a well-lit hearth. Shortly thereafter another avatar appeared. Sebastian smiled; his choice of a second chair had been the correct one.
“Am I going to have to arrest you, Dante?”
“I certainly hope not.”
“Why shouldn’t I? The intervention was ordered and you deliberately disobeyed the council.”
Dante took a seat, picked up a cigar on the stand next to it, and lit a match. “I don’t see why you’re so upset. The council got what it wanted.”
“He’s dead?”
“Oh yes.”
“Absolutely gone?”
“No.” Dante smiled, drawing from the cigar. “But he’s floating naked in space—a needle in the largest haystack imaginable—and it’s doubtful anyone will ever be able to find him again. So the council gets what it wants.”
“You risked all that to achieve the same end?” asked Sebastian. “I don’t see how it really helps him.”
“Not just him, sir. Ever since Olivia died you’ve been obsessing over the need to win. In the end I agreed with you: Justin had to die. But to have it happen in such an ignominious fashion—no hope, no heroism …”
Sebastian nodded in agreement. “Sergeant Clark.”
“Yes,” said Dante. “You allowed an honorable end indeed.”
“I see.” Sebastian came to the fire and sat down in the chair but did not pick up the other cigar. “How did it happen?”
“He was magnificent, sir. Justin refused to leave the sarcophagus behind. He pushed it all the way to the air lock. I had to elaborate on your story about an enemy ship. I had it blowing up everything in a space suit. I even suggested he put the corpse in the suit and get in the sarcophagus and blow it out the air lock.”
“What would you have done if he’d agreed?”
“I would’ve left him there, sealed in. It would not have taken long for the nanites to eat their way through.”
“But he didn’t agree.”
“Only took him a second to say no. He took my, or should I say your, suggestion to use the suit as a decoy.”
“You thought all this up?”
“Once I saw how you gave the good sergeant an end worthy of her life I jumped in and improvised. Justin died knowing that he saved the sarcophagus and thinking he had a small chance himself. It was a much better death. And now that he’s gone the Alliance must choose a new leader—just as you wished.”
“Thank you, Dante.”
The two avatars waited in companionable silence as they thought of the heroism they’d both witnessed that day.
Epilogue II
Two days after Justin Cord disappeared, the UHF fleet at Mars launched a series of minor raids, breaking the Mardi Gras truce. The UHF’s six task forces scattered in all directions. The Alliance immediately took advantage to send the bulk of its main fleet out after the closest UHF task force, hoping for an easy kill, wondering why the UHF would employ such a flawed tactic. It was only when the UHF launched an attack on the Alliance settlement of Alhambra that the purpose of the operation became clear. The lightly defended settlement was pulverized and nearly fifty thousand citizens of the Alliance were destroyed. It was the war’s first such blatant attack on a manifestly civilian target. Even the worst fighting in the Battles of the Dodge had not purposely targeted civilians. It was not to be the last. As soon as Alhambra was destroyed, the UHF ran for the safety of the Martian orbital batteries.
Four days after Justin Cord disappeared, the UHF launched a new assault in the 180. Using previously unsuspected reserves of ships and, more important, trained marines, they began an attack on multiple fronts. Once the Alliance was fully committed, Grand Admiral Samuel Trang struck. With a small but very well-trained fleet and using tactics that bypassed or destroyed strongly held asteroids, regardless of civilian casualties, the Grand Admiral was able to maneuver his force out past the 180 and surround Altamont. One week later the 180 was cracked, with Trang having taken as much space in seven short days as he’d taken in the two previous years. For the first time in the war large numbers of Alliance personnel were captured before they could retreat, and Altamont was cut off. It was now only a matter of time before the Alliance’s most critical outpost fell.
To be continued.