I jump over to another panel facing me and adhere to it with my pads. The box is still giving me cover, but not for long. Already, the shooter will be changing position to get a better shot at me.
The panels aren’t very strong, and they are micro-thin. A long stream from my laser weakens a seam, and I force my way through the flexible material to the other side.
As I’m climbing through, I see a figure in a white and gray spacesuit on the roof, taking cover behind a radiator panel and holding a pistol in a two-handed grip. The other killer. I fire first, burning open his helmet with a puff of vapor. He runs in circles and erratic leaps, while trying to stop the damage to his helmet with his bare hands.
I pull myself through the panel just before a blast melts another hole in it. Adhering to the array, I circle around it faster than he can, then attach my climbing rig and let the line quickly take me down the last few hundred meters.
I land hard and rebound off of the roof, aiming for a large box of equipment topped with antennas. I duck behind the box and hold still.
Waiting. Bursts of coded transmissions let me now there are two men left, and one pinpoints his position with an energy pulse as he fires where he thought I landed. Sloppy. The one who was firing at me earlier is approaching, clearing possible hiding places. The other one is near the edge of the Beacon, likely waiting to shoot me as soon as the other flushes me out.
While they are communicating, I make out the other Terran—a gorilla in a spacesuit holding a scanner laser in his mitts. The instant he sees me, I’m dead, so he gets to go first. I take careful aim at his faceplate and fire.
His plate was mirrored, so that’s probably why he lived to drop his weapon and hold his mitts to a cracked visor, spewing mist and blood. I don’t need to decode the messages to understand the screams blasting from the radio. Blind, he teeters on the edge and drops out of sight. Two hundred kilos of killer are on the way down to the greenhouse domes, five kilometers below. I hope the glass can take it.
The other one does me a favor by running over to look, and he gets a continuous beam in his neck. It isn’t enough energy to sever his head, but he goes down instantly.
Police-band transmissions are picking up; the Lunar police will be here soon. It’s probably something about a maniac and a firefight on the array. I need to move fast. There’s no time to unsuit and make my way through the Beacon, the elevator, the dome below, and the train. I’ll have to stay outside the whole way.
I look over the edge and magnify my vision. It looks like the dome held when the thug splattered across it. It’s good to see Lunar engineering has earned its rep.
I attach a cable to the edge and swing out into space. Stars spin and the horizon whirls as the cable goes taut on the edge, and I swing up to the underside of the Beacon. Contact! My adhesive gloves are the only things holding me up. Support ribs radiate out from the central mast, making the whole thing look like the underside of a mushroom. Pipes and cables sprawl everywhere, hopefully enough to hide me. I glance down again at the red star-patterned stain on the dome far below. That could be me if I slip. The pads switch on and off as I begin my inverted climb along the bottom of the Beacon toward the array mast.
I’m making good time when I get an alarm—I’m being painted with a targeting radar.
* * * * *
Chapter 58
I manage to swing behind a support an instant before I would have died.
Bright light flashes on the underside as a laser burns through the metal ribbing, leaving a glowing hole and a shower of sparks falling away into the vacuum. I brace my back and boots against either side of two support flanges and stare at the glowing hole bored through the support steel.
So, there’s a sniper below with a high-powered laser rifle that can pierce the support ribs of Lunar steel. I won’t get lucky again. If that’s a sniper rifle on a cybernetic tripod with a floating bearing crystal, it will hit and kill me the instant I am visible. I’ll be dead before I know it.
The answer is to never come out from cover. With my feet and arms wedging me in a chimney climb, I work my way between the support flanges, toward the mast. No need to hang.
Behind me, the laser burns through the support and then into the support rib behind it. Then, the beam begins to steadily burn in my direction, an advancing shower of sparks marking the approaching death.
My helmet begins to steam as I climb faster. I come upon a heavy pipe bisecting my crawlspace. If I climb below it, I’ll be exposed to the approaching laser. Instead, I clamber over it and try to squeeze through.
Stuck.
I can’t see the approaching beam, but an orange glow reflecting off the metal begins to grow brighter. I push harder. Nothing. A glowing spark floats past. I let out my breath until it hurts and then pull. I pull free and just manage to catch myself on a support before I fall.
The world turns a blinding violet-white, and the structure shakes while pieces of metal fly past me. Then I’m in a glowing cloud of light that quickly goes dark.
I wipe boiling water and ice off my visor and see the boiling, hissing vapor from the severed pipe behind me. He hit the pipe. Clouds of steam and ice fall down, spreading as they go, obscuring me and diffusing any laser fire. This cloud will protect me, at least until the emergency systems turn off the water.
OK, then. I support myself with one arm and draw my laser pistol, setting it for continuous beam and maximum power. As I sweep the beam from the back toward me, pipe after pipe explodes into steam and snow. When the last one goes, blasting white clouds into my face, I start crawling blindly along.
The clouds flash violet-white again. He’s shooting blindly into the clouds. Another flash. I slip, then catch myself; the metal is now coated in ice. Maybe this wasn’t such a bright idea after all. Flash. Climbing blind again, across ice. Flash. Where is the mast? I’ve lost track of where I am. Flash. How long until they shut off the pipes, and I’m visible? Flash…flash…flash…
Violet light flares ahead and blinds me, the supports shake, and I’m torn loose from my grip.
Falling, I flail blindly for something, anything, to grab.
Something slams across my arm, sending me spinning. I claw at a smooth surface as I begin to slide down it. I catch on something, a crack of some kind, and try to wedge my fingers in.
I blink and can make out shapes behind the floating after-image in my sight. I’m hanging onto one of the arching main supports for the Beacon. I pull myself up and activate my adhesive pads.
While I’m catching my breath, violet flashes of light blast into the underside of the Beacon, and fog rains down, fading away before it gets to Luna. He didn’t see me make it to the mast.
While he blasts away, I start climbing down, trying to find panels to put between me and the sniper.
“HALT!” a deep radio voice thunders in my ears. “THIS IS THE LUNA POLICE! LOWER YOUR WEAPON AND LAY ON THE GROUND! ANY RESISTANCE SHALL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE!”
Are they talking to me? Too bad. I keep climbing.
A Luna military police cruiser drifts below, a black rectangle with blue drive emissions and flashing lights. I freeze as it slides past.
A flash of light and sparks erupt from its side. That idiot actually fired on the Luna Police.
Big mistake.
On the Lunar plain, far below, a bright light flashes. A column of glowing, molten rock fountains up and then falls back in a dome. All that is left is a glowing crater.
* * * * *
Chapter 59
I wait until the police vehicle flies past, out of sight, and then begin climbing down again.
I have to pause several times on the way. Police vehicles and remotes drift through space, searching. When they come by, I halt my descent and wait until they pass by. All the heat and E/M pouring off the array hides me, that and the camouflage of my suit.
I finally reach the top of the dome. Hexagons of light stretch out in a curving plain until it forms a horizon like a small world.
Those hexagons are thick diamond and silicon crystal with monomolecular thread running through them. No wonder they didn’t break with all the things falling on them; they’re made to resist meteorite strikes.
Looking down, I can see parks, small lakes with boats, forests with trails through them, and tiny, brightly colored buildings. The haze of thin clouds blocks any clearer vision. It looks like there is a light rain falling in the dome.
I walk over to one of the main support ribs arching over to the train station. The support rib is wide enough to hide me completely from below. A series of long, low leaps eats up the distance quickly. I have to hide twice more behind a support as police vehicles and remotes drift by.
The angle increases until it’s too steep to glide or jump. No problem. I lie back and start to slide down. It’s slow, at first, but I pick up speed quickly as the angle increases. It gets so steep, I start to float away from the dome while still hundreds of meters above the ground. I’m in free fall to the Mountains of Light.
Not happening. I stretch out and brush a support rib racing by. When I turn on the adhesive pads, I slam into the rib and see stars. I’m hanging by one arm, gasping for breath and trying to see if there are any cracks in my visor.
“Sharron…” I gasp. “Anything broken?”
“No, but not for lack of trying,” she answers. “I’m sure you can break the suit or your bones on the next try, though.”
Great. My array is programmed to be a smart-ass.
Back to using my climbing gear to make my way down. The angle goes from steep to vertical as I get near the rim.
Standing on the rim, I’m about twenty meters above the slope of the mountaintop and over a hundred meters from the train tunnel. The park grounds are level with me, forests on one side of the glass, and stark moonscape on the other. I move in starts and stops, going over the side and hanging when someone comes by.
As I come up on the train tunnel, I find a lookout. A young Terran with close cropped hair and his hand inside his jacket is inside the dome, leaning against a tree, watching people coming and going into the train station. He’s looking the wrong way, so I edge behind him, getting just over the train tunnel.
Something makes him turn around and face me. His eyes widen, and he pulls out a railgun and points it at my head.
I freeze, and he hesitates.
He picked the wrong weapon. A laser would go right through and burn me. His railgun could pierce the panel, but it would kill him if it does. If it doesn’t, he gets a face full of diamond shrapnel. Of course, if I move, he may fire anyway, drawing attention, and possibly killing me. So I wait, staring into his eyes.
I feel the rumble of the train leaving the station. I can’t let this guy make me miss my train.
What’s it going to be, kid? Do you fire or drop it? I’m ready either way…are you?
Sweat breaks out on his skin, and the heavy pistol wavers in his grasp. Well?
He lowers the weapon and begins to speak into his comm.
Wrong move. I fire my laser from the hip, and he goes down with flaming hair and a charcoal face. Huh. The beam must have diffused through the panel.
The train flies out of the tunnel, directly below me, and I jump down to it.
I hit the roof, bounce, and slide over the side.
* * * * *
Chapter 60
I flail out and grab a wire.
One glove grasps the side of an accordion sleeve between train cars, while the magnetic rails race by below me. I turn on the adhesive settings on my gloves and boots and climb back on top. Lying flat, I make my way to the back of the train and then down the back of it.
The train is going down the mountain; behind me, the great habitat dome starts shrinking in the distance. The train goes into the dark shadow of the crater wall, leaving only the lights of the dome, the stars, and the clusters of vehicles flying overhead.
With all the patrols and drones flying about, I need to get under cover. There is only one thing in sight.
Using the adhesive gloves and boots, I climb upside down and then under the racing train. There is plenty of room between the superconducting rails levitating the train. I climb the rest of the way under and wait as the moving tracks turn into a blur of motion.
The only issue is the speed of the train. With no wheels or atmosphere to generate friction, Lunar trains go several times the speed of sound on Earth. If there is a rock, a meteorite, or anything on the tracks, I’ll never feel what hit me.
As the train levels out and stops accelerating, I think about what’s ahead. I’m going to have to pierce the security of Singularity Tower, somehow. The next step is to bug people heading into the tower with smart dust. If their security is good, that won’t work, though. I’ll have to be prepared to try to get inside the Tower.
The more immediate issue is the train station ahead, in Shackleton. Anyone with two neurons to rub together will be waiting for me there. There will also be sensor sweeps along the track, to see if anyone dropped off and walked away. Not that that’s a good move right now; I’d turn into a long red streak at these speeds. That leaves dropping off just outside Shackleton when the train slows, shooting my way past the thugs and police in the station, or getting lost in the service tunnels, somehow.
My biggest concern is the Luna police. If I get into a shoot-out with them, it will never stop, and an entire world will want me dead. No thanks. One world wanting me dead is enough. Well, maybe two, but Mars doesn’t really count.
The good news is the train is not being stopped and searched, so they don’t know I’m here. That means there won’t be police remotes outside Shackleton waiting for me, nor is the train likely to be stopped and searched in the station. I can’t assume Terra isn’t looking for me there, or that they would be unwilling to shoot-up a train station, considering what they’ve already done.
Avoiding a shoot-out by hanging under the train and then getting out in the underground tunnels is the best way to go. If it comes to shooting later, at least I’ll be away from the crowds of bystanders.
I bring up the maps of the tunnels, both the publicly available one and the smuggler’s routes that Sharron’s crew used. That side passage, right there—the train will be moving slowly enough for me to get off and hide.
The train slows, then enters the airlock. Air roars into the tunnel, and we start moving again.
There are tense moments while the train stops in the station. Will anyone check underneath? There is nothing I can do but wait as people get on and off.
The train begins moving again, entering a tunnel heading into the dark depths of Shackleton. Once I’m out of sight of the station, I drop and roll.
Not too bad. A few bruises, but nothing broken, and the suit kept my skin on. I get up and dust myself off. There are a lot of holes in the suit now, I’ll have to dump it.
There is the side tunnel, showing up in my visor’s light amplification. I disappear into the labyrinth under Shackleton.
I’ll rest, change my face, and get ready.
* * * * *
Chapter 61
Identity Number Four, Jacob Wilson.
It’s getting harder to keep them all straight. I’ve reviewed all the remaining IDs in case I have to switch quickly. If the next few days are anything like the last few, I’ll be burning through my remaining identities quickly.
Lights flicker in the small cylinder I’m in. Trails of water and other fluids are keeping the green stuff spreading on the far wall alive. Still, I’ll take my current room over any of the others I’ve been in in the last few days. It’s secure and unknown.
This can is a maintenance chamber that branches off the side of one of the old, abandoned train tunnels. There are no luxuries, but it has fresh air, water, a big, heavy door, and best of all, privacy. I’ve changed the lock’s codes and put a smart dust security array out in the tunnels beyond. If anything comes, I’ll be ready.
Sharron is gone, off searching the networks of Lunar for some way i
nto the data banks of Singularity again. It’s strange how she won’t simply copy herself into a new host system. Other expert systems do it all the time. When I asked her, she simply said she couldn’t. Likely some kind of data-protection scheme of Sharron’s, the real one.
So it’s quiet, even the monster is leaving me alone with my thoughts. Occasionally, I feel the rumble of a distant, passing train through a pressure tunnel.
I spent the previous day getting to know some of the people working in Singularity Tower, following them, observing them through nano-cameras and hacked systems, and breaking into terminals they used. Any information could be a clue or help me out if I have to break into Singularity Tower.
I’ve also tagged a lot with smart dust remotes. Smaller than a dust grain, they’ll remain dormant until they’re in the Tower and then record passively. They will only turn on when outside, after receiving a coded signal from me. I’ve put them on people, pets, and cargo, and I even put several into tunnel air ducts.
I’ve checked multiple times each day for a return signal from a remote that went inside Singularity. Nothing. Like a black hole, remotes go in, but nothing comes back out.
I’ll have to break into one of the most secure structures on Luna. I’m already preparing for this. All my weapons and gear have been cleaned, checked, loaded and re-initialized. Every wound has healed; I expect the monster had a lot to do with that. Physically, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
Mentally, I’m prepared as well. I’ve studied and memorized any maps and internal information I could find. I dream about it and can find my way around with my eyes closed. I’ve been remembering Terra. The way it looked, felt, and smelled. Getting back into the walk, the accent, the word choice, and all the other habits that take a lifetime to learn. I need to drop my Lunar walk and talk and all the other things that would mark me as a man who spent years on Luna. Nothing can be off; I need to be Terran again. I need to appear to be a Terran returning home.
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