Erebus

by R K MacPherson

  Far ahead, he saw another gate back to the outside world. To his right, though, he saw more trees, though he could make out what looked like tan cylinders past the trees.

  “Pull over,” Dash ordered. “Turn off the lights.”

  The lights went out as the car rumbled onto the gravel and dirt. When it stopped, he heard the emergency brake applied.

  Then Castillo struck.

  Her elbow slammed into Dash’s gun hand, pinning it behind her back. Dash reflexively pulled the trigger. Even muffled by the cushion, the pistol’s report was focused by the car’s interior, hurting his ears and deafening him.

  Castillo didn’t give him time to think, though. Even as the gun went off, her fist struck Dash in the cheek, then she flurried twice more, striking for the eyes and nose.

  Bright light exploded in Dash’s eyes with each punch. His brain couldn’t formulate thoughts or plans, but his instincts didn’t fail him entirely.

  His hand gripped the side of Castillo’s face as he ignored the older woman’s blows. His thumb scratched her forehead and cut into her eyebrow. Then Dash drove his thumbnail into the other woman’s eye.

  Castillo’s mouth opened, but Dash couldn’t hear the scream over his ringing ears. He did, however, feel Castillo’s hands lock onto his arm and push it away from her face.

  Which reduced the pressure on his pistol.

  Dash turned the SIG Sauer to the right and fired four times. Castillo’s body jerked with each shot and blood splattered across the driver’s side window and out of her mouth. Dash’s ears ached with each round fired, but he didn’t stop until the woman slumped in her seat.

  Behind him, Yifei sat bolt upright, her mouth open in a scream Dash couldn’t hear.

  “Are you okay?” Dash shouted over his ringing ears.

  Yifei said something Dash couldn’t make out, but he understood his friend’s bobbing head.

  The stench of blood and cordite filled the car, choking him. Dazed, Dash unbuckled himself and opened the door. He rolled out of the car and dropped onto the brown grass. His nose hurt, and his very heartbeat seemed to cause spikes of pain in his ears. He pinched his nose to contain the blood, anxious not to stain his clothes.

  Yifei appeared at his side, but her words came from too far away to understand. Dash picked himself up and staggered around to the driver’s side of the car. He opened the door and blue smoke and flecks of foam cushion poured into the night air.

  Castillo’s arm hung limp at her side while her head lolled to the right. Blood oozed out of exit wounds in her back and arms.

  “What do we do with her?” Yifei asked.

  Dash glanced around. No one seemed to notice the short battle in the car, but time wasn’t on their side. They needed to get away from the vehicle, but also needed to prevent its discovery, or at least delay it. He unbuckled the corpse and pushed it into the passenger seat, using Castillo’s coat to conceal the body. He peeled his shirt from his body, then wiped the blood from the seat. He couldn’t afford to mark himself if he had any chance of evading discovery.

  He threw the soiled shirt in passenger’s side footwell, then retrieved a fresh one from his bag in the backseat. His wounded shoulder ached, but the cut hadn’t ripped open. He dressed himself and climbed into the front seat. Adrenaline shook his limbs and tears poured down his cheeks. Another person dead, again by his hand.

  “We need to hide the car,” Dash said. “Come on.”

  This couldn’t stop him. Too great a price had been paid. Dash wiped his eyes, put the car in gear, and drove into the darkness.

  Twenty-One

  DASH TRACKED THE SENTRIES as they walked their route. He didn’t know much about the military, but he could see the guards were more deterrence than actual threat. They engaged in idle chatter, spat tobacco juice, and appeared bored.

  Hallmarks of a routine assignment.

  “They don’t know who they’re guarding,” Dash mused.

  Yifei didn’t sound mollified. “They’ve still got big guns.”

  There were too many sentries to stroll across the field to the tent compound. He didn’t want to test his OSI badge unless necessary. Plus, an OSI investigator would drive straight up—not attempt a nocturnal infiltration.

  Dash considered crawling across the brown grassy field. It would minimize his chances of detection but guarantee his detention if he was spotted. Attacking a pair of sentries was also out of the question. Not only would they be better trained at combat, but if they failed to check in, security forces would automatically fall upon the compound and they’d be discovered.

  That left waiting.

  Better to bide their time and seize an opportunity rather than blunder forward. They could always wait a few hours until four in the morning, when the guards would be the most tired, and try blundering then.

  Dash took advantage of the concealment and relieved himself behind the bushes, using a small package of wet wipes to clean up afterward. As comfortable as he could be, he squatted on his bag and waited. Yifei sat on her legs, impossibly low, in a position Dash couldn’t imagine pulling off. He pulled his hair up into a bun, then used a rubber band to hold it in place.

  Minutes crawled like a caterpillar in a stupor as they surveyed the guards and the tents. Dash snapped a few pictures with his phone, but the low lighting meant he didn’t get very high-quality images. Despite the danger, his mind wandered.

  He couldn’t wipe away the dark brown blood under his fingernails. He tried several times.

  How many stars were covered by the atmosphere near sea level?

  Did his mother know about Rasul yet? Was she all right? Were Castillo’s people set up on her, too?

  Was Rasul waiting in his grave yet? Were Nakeer and Munkar interrogating him already? His brother was a good Muslim. He hoped if the angels were real, they accepted his faith and deeds and welcomed Rasul to Paradise on Youmadin—the day of judgment.

  A wry smile curled his lips. As an atheist and a promiscuous young man, Dash suspected the two angels wouldn’t even bother interrogating him, but rather hurl him into the fiery pits of hell.

  How long had it been since he last prayed?

  “What should we talk about?” Yifei asked.

  Dash’s smile spread. “It’s like you read my mind, girl.” He nodded towards the tent compound. “What’s the deal with this?”

  “You told me it was for isolation.”

  “No, I mean, why these people? What’s their purpose?”

  Yifei pursed her lips and studied the tents. “Hard to say. Maybe it’s what you said, rebuilding the world after it gets smacked by an asteroid.”

  Dash’s stomach rumbled like an angry demon. He blushed and asked, “Think they’ve got shawarma?”

  “I’d kill for some soup dumplings right now. My grandmother makes the best dumplings. She’s got a restaurant in Suzhou.” Yifei sighed. “Next time we go on the run, let’s at least grab some cookies.”

  “You got it.” Dash nodded, then turned to the south as a faint noise caught his ear.

  The distant rumble of a helicopter grew as it made its approach to the campground. A white beam cut through the night air and illuminated the ground.

  “A patrol!”

  Dash slung his pack over his shoulders and hugged a shrub to minimize his profile. If the light hit him, everything would end here. Yifei crouched next to him, ready to sprint.

  The helicopter wasn’t sweeping the area, however. It was landing. All the sentries turned to observe the helo and its occupants.

  “This is our chance!”

  Dash broke from cover and sprinted across the field. His arms blurred as his legs pumped, burning from the sudden strain. He sucked the warm night air into his lungs, gulping in fresh oxygen to replace what his muscles consumed. Yifei, despite her shorter legs, outran him, crossing the gap a full five seconds ahead of Dash.

  “I win!” Yifei whispered.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dash huffed, chagrined. He didn’t think
of himself as out of shape.

  The helicopter touched down. Dash couldn’t make out the type, but he could see the effect on the compound. Lights turned on in almost every tent, but no one had emerged by the time they slid behind a stack of crates. Sweat covered his face and neck and he opened his mouth wide to breathe without making too much noise. He unslung his backpack and set it down next to the boxes. Yifei did the same, slinking behind him like a cat.

  The first people emerged from their tents, most looking bleary-eyed, even in the darkness. Dash heard mutterings and grumbles, but they sounded curious rather than suspicious. The crowd moved to the middle of the compound where they could see the helicopter in the distance and the three people walking towards them.

  “Come on. Let’s get closer.”

  Dash studied the crowd as he slipped into their midst. Most wore pajamas and shoes, but a few wore flight suits, though not the standard olive drab or desert tan variants used by the military. All in all, they looked closer to NASA versions, but since he’d seen suits in hospital scrubs green, teal, royal blue, and at least one rust-red version, he knew they hadn’t shopped at the space store in Houston.

  The two of the three people walking closer wore tailored suits. The third, a Latina with her hair tied up in a tight bun, wore naval officer’s uniform with the four gold stripes of a captain. To Dash’s surprise, the two men walked behind her, showing a deference that belied their expensive outfits.

  Naval officers weren’t known for their timidity and a female captain played second fiddle to no one.

  “Good morning,” the lead man said with a cheerful wave. “It’s great to see you all again. So sorry to wake you up like this.” He looked around and pointed at someone in the crowd. “Fairchild, right?”

  Dash craned his neck but couldn’t see who responded.

  “Everyone in your section has arrived?” Cheerful Man asked and then, hearing an answer, beamed and nodded. “That’s great.” He indicated the other two. “I wanted to introduce you to a couple of people. They’re going to be very important to our work in the coming weeks.” He gestured toward the officer. “I’d like to introduce you to Captain Teresa Onsurez. She’s not only one of the youngest commanding officers in the Navy, she’s also one hell of a fighter pilot.”

  Onsurez took a step forward, then nodded. A short woman, with a trim figure, and a pretty smile, Dash saw something unexpected in her eyes—wonder.

  “And this is William Hong. He’s got almost ten years of experience as an engineer with NASA. He’s got lots of experience coordinating big operations like ours, so if you have questions, he’s the one to ask.”

  Hong wore a sport coat over a fitted t-shirt that showed off his toned physique. He smiled in several directions, nodding at people.

  “Isn’t that Tim McConnell?” Yifei murmured. “The billionaire?”

  Dash peered closer. “Damn, you’re right.”

  “Think he bought the military?” Yifei asked.

  Dash doubted it. “He has to be behind the Olympus Initiative. His funding and background would make cover stories simple and plausible.”

  “Okay. I know you’re all anxious to know why we’ve come, but I’m not the one you should listen to.” McConnell laughed as several people groaned. “Captain?”

  Onsurez stepped forward. “Good morning!”

  The group yelled “Good morning!”

  The small officer possessed quite the command voice. Dash had no trouble at all hearing her.

  “I hate to wake you up, but we are moving you to the deployment site in just over an hour.”

  Murmurs and muttering erupted across the crowd.

  “Where we’re going has limited facilities to land, so we need to keep to our schedule,” Onsurez explained.

  Several hands went up. Onsurez pointed at one.

  “Where are we going, captain? No one’s told us yet.”

  Onsurez opened her mouth, but McConnell spoke first. “Hawaii!”

  Half of the onlookers laughed and cheered. The other half looked confused.

  “I’m kidding, of course,” McConnell said, waving his little joke off. “Hawaii doesn’t need your help, but we are going to an island in the Pacific. You can let your imagination run wild.”

  The murmurs vanished, replaced by loud exclamations and excited squeals.

  Dash saw another hand go up, a black man with a white kufi on his head. A Muslim. Onsurez smiled at him and nodded.

  “Will we be allowed to have our phones back before we leave?”

  Onsurez shook her head. “I’m afraid not, but you will have them upon your arrival.” Several people groaned and groused. “That’s how it is. Sorry.” Despite the pretty smile, she spoke with authority.

  Dash couldn’t be certain, but the man’s voice sounded like Faris Murad. How many Muslims would there be in a small group like this? He made a mental note of his appearance, then focused back on the trio.

  Hong stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen, you will have forty-five minutes to pack up your bags and get cleaned up.”

  Hong possessed a rich, deep voice, that conveyed warmth.

  “We’ll be going directly from here to the flight line, so don’t leave anything you can’t live without. Now, if you’ll see me one at a time, I have your travel group assignments. Stick to your groups to make this as smooth as possible, please.”

  “All right,” McConnell said. “Let’s get moving. Busy, busy morning ahead!”

  Nearly everyone surged towards Hong, while a few scattered back to their tents. Hong and McConnell stayed at the front, but Onsurez broke away and walked around the compound. Dash set his phone to record video, slid it into his jacket pocket, and detached himself from his hiding place. Dash widened his eyes and smiled, which made him much more approachable.

  “Excuse me, Captain?” Dash put an innocent tone in his voice.

  “Yes?” Onsurez turned.

  “Can I ask how long we’re going to be in the air? I get a little nervous.” Dash dropped his eyes and looked away.

  “Don’t worry. Even I get nervous sometimes,” Onsurez replied. “You’ll be in the air for about eight or so hours.”

  “Oh, good. That’s not too long.” Dash locked his eyes on the officer’s face. “You’re the captain of Enterprise?”

  Shock, not surprise, splashed across Onsurez’s face.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Dash leaned forward, injecting a sense of confidentiality to the moment. “My brother worked on Enterprise when it was being constructed. He’s part of a different group, at Altus Air Force Base.”

  “Madre de dios!” Onsurez chuckled as she clutched her chest. “You scared me half to death. I thought we had a massive security breach.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Dash smiled again.

  “Well, you’ll see each other soon enough.” Onsurez pointed past Dash. “Please excuse me, though. We flew straight in and I need to use the head.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” Dash waved and walked back to his crates, his eyes scanning for Murad’s kufi. He pulled his phone out and saved the video.

  The Olympus Initiative didn’t want the people having phones, nor did they want them knowing their true destination. McConnell had joked about Hawaii, but Dash recognized his ploy, stating a truth and then treating it as if a joke. An eight-hour flight to the Pacific almost had to mean Hawaii. Nothing else really fit the data.

  Dash got goosebumps as his mind made more connections. Hawaii made even more sense. The Navy had retrofitted two aircraft carriers. What better place to launch them to battle Erebus than from Hawaii, a chain of islands with a relatively low population and several with limited access.

  It was perfect. The fact that Onsurez knew about the other groups and said Dash would see his brother soon meant only one thing…

  The Olympus Initiative was sending these people into space.

  Twenty-Two

  AS-SALAAMU ALAYKUM,” DASH SAID as Faris Murad walked pas
t him. The imam, six feet tall, with a close-trimmed beard and a paunch under his rusty flight suit, spotted him and gaped.

  “You called me?” He sputtered. “I thought you were an investigator.”

  “You’re supposed to say walakum as-salaam,” Dash pointed out. “And I’m undercover. That’s my partner over there.” He jerked his thumb towards Yifei, who winked back.

  Murad bowed his head in apology. “Forgive me, brother. Walakum as-salaam. You’re Muslim? Welcome! When did you arrive?”

  Dash glanced around. “Not long ago.” He jerked his thumb at McConnell and Hong. “Pretty big news, wouldn’t you say?”

  Murad’s head bobbed. “Alhamdulillah. I’ve got to admit, I wondered if we’d ever get moving. I’m anxious to get where we’re going and do some good.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  Murad glanced at a tent. “Do you mind if I pack up while we talk? You’re all ready to go?”

  Dash nodded. “Yeah. I’m all set.”

  He followed him into one of the tents and saw it was partitioned off. A woman chased a small boy into one cubicle, where Dash spotted a quartet of bunk beds and footlockers.

  “Coed?” He asked, surprised.

  Murad squirmed. “I asked for space in an all-male tent, but would you believe there aren’t any? In fact, out of everyone here, there are only four unmarried men.”

  Dash raised an eyebrow. “Really? How many people are here?”

  “One hundred and ten, well, eleven, I guess, now that you’re here. Or twelve.” He beamed. “I’m so pleased, by the way. There’s a Muslim family in tent three, but we’re all there are in our group, at least.”

  Murad opened a green duffel bag that already looked stuffed. He lay a green velvet square on the mattress, then put his copy of the Qur’an in the middle of it, folding the fabric to protect the book before placing it inside the bag.

  Dash noticed the duffel bulged at odd angles. “Doesn’t look like you’ve got many clothes in there.”

  Murad frowned. “I took them at their word that all of our clothing needs would be covered. I only kept a few shirts. My favorite Laker sweats, that sort of thing.”