Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)

by Joshua James

  “Hey! You! Citizen! Stop right there!” In his daze, Sydal didn’t hear the orders from one of the soldiers at first. It wasn’t until an angry-looking young soldier stepped in front of him that he got the message.

  “What are you doing? It’s past curfew. You need to go home.” The soldier in front of Sydal took an over-exaggerated sniff. “That is, if you have one. If not, you have to report to the Lunar Civil Center immediately for temporary housing assignment.”

  Sydal realized he was a bit ripe, but he had good reason. Not in the mood to argue with a soldier and possibly get beaten up, he accessed his HUD and turned on his holographic detective’s badge. Immediately the soldiers calmed down quite a bit.

  “We’re sorry, Detective, we had no idea. But I’m afraid you’re still going to have to get off the streets and return to either your precinct or your station. Only uniforms are allowed out after eight.” The young soldier in front of him was still intimidated by a cop, which Sydal found funny, especially since that same kid was probably gonna be shipped out to fight to the death with strangers hell-bent on killing him. And he can’t handle talking to a police officer yet.

  Sydal had a lot of questions, but one took precedent here. “Either of you have anything to drink, like water or juice, soda, anything?”

  “Yeah. Here.” The young soldier gave Sydal his water bottle from his back. It was warm, and who knew how long it had been in there. The taste of plastic had bled through into it. Still, it was the best water the detective had ever had in his life.

  “Now.” Sydal wiped the water from his mouth. “What the hell is going on? Since when was there a curfew?”

  “Since today. It was just enacted, orders straight from Earth to deal with all the murders and disappearances that have been happening up here. Martial law.”

  “Martial…that’s ridiculous.” Sydal couldn’t help but think there was something else, something more insidious behind this nonsense. Sure, the murder rate had skyrocketed lately, and God knew they had their fair share of problems controlling the large number of homeless and jobless on the moon. The chief had put in for some additional help. But installing the military as the new authority here, and a curfew? It seemed like a bit much.

  “Those are orders, sir.”

  “Maybe if you guys did your job, we wouldn’t have to be here.” The first soldier that had spoken to Sydal just had to add his little snide remark.

  “Shit, man!” objected the young soldier who stood in front of Sydal.

  “What? It’s true. They couldn’t keep these animals under control, so we had to be called in. I hate the moon.”

  “Sorry, he’s a dick.”

  “No worries,” responded Sydal. He was happy that he got the water. He wasn’t about to get into a tiff with some young jerk-off soldier. “Where’s the line for the dark side?”

  The young soldier pointed to the right, to the east. “I think the line starts over there somewhere, down near the docks.”

  Sydal nodded, and then he started going east. He kept his holographic badge out to avoid having to talk to anyone else. All he wanted now was to get on a thruster bus to the dark side, walk through his front door, grab his kids, and have them all sleep on the couch together for a few days. Hopefully the whole military-rule thing would blow over. Then it crawled back into his mind.

  Maria...

  Sydal thought about his wife as he limped his way through the eerie, empty Lunar Dome streets. What if she was in on whatever conspiracy that was unfolding on the moon? She was military, after all, and he knew without a doubt that at least some of them were in on it. Why didn’t she tell him this whole martial law thing was coming? She must’ve known.

  Sydal didn’t want to even seriously consider that Maria wasn’t Maria, but a monster pretending to be her. He’d seen firsthand what they could do, with Bausman. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining what she could do to their children, who were practically helpless.

  Sydal’s heart sank when he saw the line for the buses back to the dark side. They must’ve been at least two hours long, maybe more. Now was a perfect time to play his trump card, his badge and job.

  “Sorry, excuse me, official police business, excuse me,” Sydal walked through the throngs of people in line as they cursed him under their breath. They complained. But what could they do? He was a cop, and they weren’t. Perks like that came with the job.

  Sydal struggled to stay conscious as he sat in a window seat on a thruster bus from the Lunar Dome to the dark side, forehead against the cold window. Less than an hour earlier, he’d emerged from the tunnels and sewers beneath Earth’s moon with more questions than answers about his world and what was really going on behind the curtain.

  He’d hoped that getting away from the Lunar Dome might ease some of his anxiety, being one step closer to home and all. But the sight out his window did little to engender calm.

  UEF military transports had landed all over the moon’s surface. They were really coming in with force to uphold this whole ‘martial law’ thing. Understandably, that had him a bit worried. But what really caught his attention were the fleets in space, flying over and past the moon. Each one of them had to be going somewhere, and in those numbers, it couldn’t have been for anything good. He, like the rest of people in human-occupied space, was hoping that the war was winding down, not ramping up.

  Just like there was a line to board transports off and out of the Lunar Dome, there was a line of transports waiting their turn to dock at the dark side. Cheaper and more blue-collar, it was where the majority of the moon’s population lived, so it was a sizable backup.

  “HUD, call Maria,” ordered Sydal. If he got what he was convinced was some manner of creature or impostor that was pretending to be his wife, maybe he could have some of his fears for his children relieved.

  She didn’t pick up. That just sent the detective’s mind into a tailspin.

  Why didn’t she pick up? Where is she? Is she with the kids? Are they okay? She didn’t ki—…no, don’t think that way. They’re fine. Keep telling yourself that. They’re fine.

  If Sydal could’ve, he would’ve hopped out of the bus and gone the rest of the way on foot, the cold be damned. But unfortunately, he wouldn’t make it more than a couple of steps before dying. And if he were dead, he couldn’t help and protect his kids.

  Sydal shot up out of his seat after the bus he was in waited five minutes without moving. He made his way to the front of the bus, past his fellow passengers, who were just as confused as to what was happening but couldn’t have been as scared, because none of them knew what was really happening below the moon. None of them knew about the creatures that lived among them. Or did they?

  As Sydal made his way up to the front of the bus, he suspiciously surveyed his fellow passengers. Any one of them could’ve been like Bausman. If a commuter looked even a little different than the norm, he eyed them up and down well enough for them to notice and be uncomfortable; then he moved forward.

  “Sydal, Lunar Police. Is there any way around this line of buses? Maybe another entrance that no one uses? Another docking point?” he asked when he reached the bus driver.

  “Afraid not, Detective. We gotta wait, just like the rest of them,” answered a tired-looking bus driver who was obviously annoyed to have to deal with so much drama on what usually was an easy shift.

  “What if it’s for official police business?”

  “Is this official police business?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I’m afraid the answer is still no. We really don’t have a choice.”

  “Shit.” Sydal turned away from the bus driver. He looked towards the very back, where there was an airlocked hatch with a mini-rover inside. Meant as a lifeboat for stranded buses, the idea was that the mini-rover could be taken out by any stranded passengers or drivers, to find help in the nearest habitat. “Does that still work?”

  “What? The mini-rover? I guess so. I mean, as long as I
’ve been driving this bus it’s never been used, so maybe?”

  “I’m taking it,” declared Sydal as he hurried away from the front of the bus towards the back.

  “I don’t know if that’s a great idea, Detective!” The bus driver tried to shout a warning to Sydal as he hurried towards the back, but Sydal barely heard him.

  Sydal tried to turn the wheel on the hatch in the back of the bus. It barely budged, so he used a lot more elbow grease. The other passengers gave him strange looks, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he was in a bus full of suspects, and he needed get home and save his children via any means available to him.

  “Son of a…got it!” Sydal was finally able to turn the wheel. He opened up the airtight lock, letting out a whooshing noise. Without wasting a second, he climbed in and closed the door behind him.

  The mini-rover lived up to its name. Sydal barely fit behind the wheel, his knees up on each side. Calling it cramped would be generous, but that was okay. All he cared about was using it to go the fifty to one hundred yards to the dark side facilities. For that brief time, he could endure it.

  “HUD, I’m ready for departure,” said Sydal after checking all the levels and instruments, making sure the old mini-rover still had structural and life support integrity. Everything looked green, so he was ready to go. “Disengage.”

  The mini-rover fell off the bus like an acorn from a tree. Onboard gyroscopes compensated for the impact of hitting the lunar surface. Immediately, Sydal started to drive.

  “Warning, life support systems compromised. Warning, life support systems compromised. Losing oxygen.” A robotic woman’s voice kept blaring through Sydal’s HUD. It was just what he needed, losing air as he hurried towards the nearest rover dock.

  Sydal did his best to try and ignore the alarms going off in his HUD and the mini-rover. He tried his best to ignore his dwindling supply of oxygen.

  Just keep going. Don’t pay attention to it. You’ll make it.

  Sydal pushed his mini-rover to its limit, hurrying over to the line of rovers waiting patiently for their turn to dock. Then, automated piloting systems in the rovers would make them drive to the nearby lot on their own and neatly get in line. Sydal had no time for such patience.

  As he drove past the line of disgruntled rover owners, who beeped at him on the way, Sydal felt the grip of oxygen deprivation take hold. The problem was, they were dangerous but felt amazing at the same time. His head got light, his thoughts happier, and he felt high.

  “Unregistered rover, this is dock control. You need to return to the back of the line and wait your turn like everyone else.” A bored man’s voice sounded in Sydal’s HUD.

  “Dock control, this is Sydal, here on official bussssss...” Get a hold of yourself, Rowan. “I’m here on police business. I need to dock immediately, life support failing. If you need it, priority override code, Echo, Bravo—”

  “Okay, okay, you’re next, Detective. Just hang tight.” The dock control operator didn’t want to hear it.

  The second he got off the mini-rover and stepped onto the dock concourse, Sydal braced himself against one wall and took some deep breaths. That was a close one. His desire to get home to his kids had almost just cost him his life, but it couldn’t stop him.

  Crowded, chaotic, the dark side’s docking concourse was different than that in the Lunar Dome. The Lunar Dome’s docks were for ship building and ship docking. The dark side was only transit vehicles and rovers, which meant they were more used, more crowded. Finding his way through those throngs of people was a lot harder, made worse by the presence of soldiers shouting orders and trying to gain control and organization by force. Which, of course, didn’t work.

  Armed with a one-track mind and the last bits of adrenaline left over from his ordeals, Sydal somehow willed his exhausted body through the hordes of dark-side residents, out of the docking concourse. He entered the halls of the facility proper and headed towards the residential areas, Section G in particular. But to get there, he had to pass through the sections before it.

  Things weren’t any better in the dark side’s residential sections. Everyone hurried to get home as soldiers, guns out and on show, corralled and tried to herd people back to their homes. They wanted more than anything for people to get inside their apartments and stay inside. No one could give a real reason why, though. At first it was just unpleasant, but then it took a turn when the detective entered Section C.

  It wasn’t clear why the soldiers had skipped the first couple of dark side residential sections. But in Section C, Sydal came face-to-face with a horse of a different color. Cultists, out in the open, not hiding in the shadows as per usual, were accompanied by UEF soldiers, going door-to-door, taking some residents with them. The residents, lined up in the middle of the hall shackled to each other, came in all shapes, sizes, ages and races. And all of them had something in common: none of them looked like they had any idea what was going on.

  “What the hell is going on here!?” Sydal approached the nearest soldier and demanded to know. As much as he wanted to protect his kids, he couldn’t in good conscience just walk by his fellow lunar citizens being treated so poorly.

  “Move along, sir,” answered the soldier.

  “Screw that. I’m a detective with the Lunar Police. I demand to know why the hell you’re rounding up citizens. Do you have warrants?”

  “Move along, Detective. Trust me.”

  “And why are you working with cultists?”

  The soldier lost his patience and responded by hitting Sydal in his stomach with the butt of his gun. Lacking the strength to react, block, or fight back, the detective toppled over and felt like he was going to throw up from the blow.

  “I told you to move along! Now you’re going with them.” The soldier that hit Sydal took out a pair of magnetic cuffs when he was stopped by a stern voice behind him.

  “Let him go, Private. He’s local law enforcement and deserves the proper respect for his position.” A tall, skinny man in a UEF uniform stood above Sydal with his hand outstretched. “Sorry about the private’s overzealousness, Detective. These are tense times. I’m sure you understand.”

  Sydal didn’t trust the tall man, but he took his hand anyway, if for no other reason than he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to get up on his own. Once he did, he was pulled up to his feet, stomach still hurting.

  “Captain Hedlund, UEF Marines,” the tall man introduced himself. “Sorry about the trouble, Detective…” Hedlund looked in his HUD at Sydal’s digital badge. “Sydal. You look like you’ve been through hell. Are you all right?”

  Sydal hardly heard the polite Marine captain. He was too busy witnessing crying kids being torn from their parents, and vice versa. He watched the elderly being dragged out of their homes, shackled and lined up. He watched the cultists take joy in their assistance in this process.

  “Am I all right? What the hell is going on here, Captain? By whose authority are you detaining these lunar citizens?”

  “By authority of the Prime Minister back on Earth, Detective. I’m not a fan of it either, but these people have been marked as AIC collaborators. We’ve been ordered to arrest them,” explained Hedlund.

  “You’ve been ordered to arrest the young and the elderly?” Sydal wasn’t buying it. Something was rotten here. “Why are you working with these damn cultist psychos?”

  “Like I said. I don’t like it, but orders are orders. I’m sure you understand. You look like you’ve been through the wringer; do you need an escort back to your apartment, sir?”

  “I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I can make it on my own.” Sydal refused any help.

  “Okay. Understood. Go home, Detective. If you have a family, spend some time with them. Tell them it’s going to be okay. All of this bother will blow over soon enough. You’ll see,” Hedlund tried to reassure Sydal. It didn’t work.

  Sydal didn’t answer. Instead he pushed his way through the commotion and made for the next residential s
ection. To his dismay there were more soldiers working with cultists, rounding people up. He shuddered to think what they were being rounded up for, but that was a battle for another day. He had to keep his eye on the prize.

  Fear suddenly took hold of Sydal as he stood outside his family’s apartment door. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it since leaving so many hours earlier, but it was the first time it froze him in place. What was he going to find behind that door, and could he handle it if it was something terrible?

  Sydal thought about knocking on the door, though he thought better of it. If his wife was aware of what was going on outside, then she’d probably think he was a cultist, a soldier, or both. Instead his hand shook as he reached for the hand scanner.

  The first thing Sydal saw when he entered his apartment made his heart sink. There was blood all over the family room floor. Upon further investigation, there was more in the kitchen, along with bloody handprints. From their size, they belonged to an adult woman, probably Maria.

  There was a pot of tomato sauce boiling over on the stove. From the smell, it was also burnt. A bowl of spaghetti sat on the counter. On the table there were three place settings.

  “Rebecca! Matthew!” yelled Sydal as the search for his kids continued. All the while he took out his pistol, prepared to shoot his wife. That reality didn’t hit him until he felt the cold steel in his hand. He was prepared to shoot the love of his life, the mother of his children. Could he really do it?

  Sydal noticed both his kids’ room door and his bedroom door were closed and locked. The kids’ door had huge dents in the metal from the inside. Something or someone was trying to bust their way out. Had the kids manage to trap Maria in their bedroom and flee to their room?

  Sydal stopped right before he knocked on his kids’ bedroom door. What if Maria was in there? He sure as hell didn’t want to let her out, and it would make more sense to get the kids first. Standing there for a second, trying to decide what to do, he tried to put the sight and implications of all that blood out of his head.