Blue Moon – First appeared in Tamyrh Quarterly, Issue 1: Volume 2
October – 2018.
ISBN: 978-1-7753249-6-6

Ankoresh & Korlune

Chief Weapons Mech Ed Olivier sat in front of his hard-link console and composed his thoughts. Nash doesn’t know me that well; will he trust me? He logged into the BBS and was promptly greeted by the AI.

C01: Good evening, E02. You have been gone for 4 days, 5 hours. You have no new messages.

Ed stretched his fingers before he typed his response. E02: Hello Control. Is N01 online?

C01: N01 has been offline for 1 day.

Damn. Ed opened the archive he’d been working on and tried to distract himself while he waited. C’mon kid, log on; Time is a factor. He drummed his fingers on his desk, then got up to get a drink. A message was waiting for him when he returned.

C01: N01 is currently online but has flagged himself as busy.

Ed let out a victory whoop and sat. He typed in his admin code and overrode Nash’s status, then he sent him a message.

E02: I was wondering if you'd started with the files yet?” Minutes went by with no response, then Nash replied.

N01: Just. I'm not very far along. They're in Tyr, and I'm still figuring out some of the intricacies of the language.

Ed contemplated how he was going to phrase his request and decided to take a chance. Evan trusts the kid.

E02: We have a problem. E01 was picked up by security forces 4 days ago. C01 has confirmed that there have been no new entries using his permissions. There haven’t been any new people join in that time either, so we're ok right now, but the BBS may be compromised. If so, we'll have to shut down for a while.

N01: Why did they take Evan? Were there specific charges? … Are you going to ban me?

Ed let out a snort.

E02: Ha! I knew it. No. We won’t ban you; you just won me a bet, Nash. As far as charges go, I have no idea – nothing’s been announced.

The last time Ankoresh Internal Security pulled him in was 10 years ago – Gods know what they’ve stuck in their files since then.

N01: Is there anything I can do?

E02: Yes. I have just the project for you. I should warn you, though, it poses some personal risk.

Ed added a folder to Nash’s short list and gave him time to look at the contents.

N01: I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to do. How do massive plasma ejections and solar prominences help Evan?

E02: You're probably too young to remember, but the files I sent you relate to a storm we had about 15 years ago. The electromagnetic radiation it generated played havoc with hardware on both sides of the border. I need a plausible explanation for why digi-link systems will be interrupted, and why some will fry. I can get what I need in place to disrupt the necessary networks across Ankoresh, but a rogue EMP is suspicious – I don't want them to automatically think to look for me and my flat-deck. Any hard evidence against Evan should be in the Ankoresh Internal Security Archives in Belen. I need you to go in and make sure his file is destroyed. Once you're done, the EMP will cover your tracks.

N01: Ankoresh still uses hard-link technology in their observatories – someone there is going to note the lack of storm, regardless of the data stream prior to the event.

E02: Unlikely. Professor Runic has had all our telescopes trained on Hybor and the asteroid belt for the last two years. He's close to proving that Hybor was once Tamyrh's second moon. Trust me; no one in Ankoresh is looking at the sun. The EMP damage will be convincing enough. Korlune has more observatories – are they all digi-link now?

N01: I think so, but I'd have to check to be sure. I know they're all connected to the master observatory just outside Merrow Cluster, so I can access them through the hub. Hopefully, I can find a way to take them all off-line during this event and simulate the effect of the EM radiation.

E02: Are you okay with this?

N01: Yes. I've never done anything like this before, but I'll do my best.

E02: I know you will. The fact that you're willing to even try means a lot, Nash. Thanks.

N01: Would you like me to damage a few other things while I'm in? It would look less suspicious if more files were corrupted or entirely wiped.

E02: You’re right. Hit the Mount Solomon Observatory archives – old Amsel keeps hard-copy backups so he won't be hurt by it. You could also wipe the Korsari Engineers file; I downloaded it to our central network last week.

N01: Does AIS keep a backup off-site?

Ed remembered the headaches certain branches of the government created by insisting they be the first to be converted over. Children, squabbling over the shiniest toys.

E02: They upgraded everything to digi-link about ten years ago, backup included.

N01: Per your info, all their field offices tie directly into this one hub, and their backups can be found on the same network? That's insane.

They've got to keep hard-link records or hardcopies somewhere.

E02: They do. I’ve already got someone dealing with that part of the problem.

N01: How much time do we have?

E02: Three days. I'll be in position in two. Can you do it?

N01: You'll have your storm in three days.

*

Field Marshal Gerard Hartoum scowled as the lights went off; a minute later they came back on. He leaned over his desk, pressing the intercom button. “Perul is the technological jewel of Ankoresh; what the hell is causing these blackouts?”

“They’re still trying to isolate the problem, Sir. Last word was that it was some sort of massive power surge, but we have conflicting information about the source. I’ll let you know the moment I know more.”

Gerard grunted and sat back, turning his attention to the Ankoresh Internal Security Agent sitting across from him. “I go on maneuvers for a few weeks, and the country falls apart. First, House Denali assassinates one of the Elder Corvus, then my idiot brother directs half the Korsari Guard to deal with a quarrel with House Bellatrix, and now this. When did the secret police pick up my Chief Field Tech and better still, why?”

Agent Marla Angorel pulled a notebook out of her pocket and flipped a couple of pages. “Evan Stannic was brought in eight days ago on suspicion of collaborating with Korlo spies, but has been released as of this morning—”

“Proof?”

“A.I.S. picked up some sort of transmissions coming from his compound in the Korsari Expanse. Evidently, they terminated in Korlune.”

Gerard snorted. “Evan Stannic is more of a patriot than I am.”

“It’s moot now; with your support and the lack of evidence…” Marla smiled blithely as she shrugged; she liked Evan too.

A soft knock made Gerard glower menacingly at the door. “I’ve been back less than a day. How does everyone know?”

Marla cast an eye over her shoulder. “I can return at a better time.” “Trust me, there won’t be one.” He flashed her a quick smile. “Enter.” No one did.

“Enter!” He yelled.

The door remained shut.

Gerard stood, crossed the room in three angry strides, and flung the door open. “What?” He bellowed.

“Isn’t that my line?” A cheerful elderly man cupped his ear. “The follow up to it is, I can’t hear you, I’m deaf.”

Gerard flushed slightly with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Amsel. You’ve caught me at a bad time. Perhaps we can meet later?”

Professor Amsel Runic pushed past Gerard and entered the room. “With you, ‘later’ means next year. This is important. It’s about… Oh. Forgive me; you have company. My apologies young lady. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He smoothed back the few wisps of white hair he had in an effort to make himself more presentable.

Marla stood and offered her hand to Amsel. “We’ve met once before, Professor Runic. I attended your lecture on celestial bodies at the Korsari Institute. Your theory that Hybor was once a moon seems to be gaining some well-deserved support.”

Amsel raised her hand and kissed the back of it expertly. “You’re very sweet, my dear.”

Gerard caught Marla’s eye and gestured toward the door. “I’ll get that update from you, later.”

“Yes, Sir. Good day to you both.” Marla gracefully extracted her hand and exited the room.

“My, what a charming young woman. I must say, Gerard, your taste has always been excellent.” Amsel sat in the chair she’d vacated.

“She’s my niece.”

“Is she single?”

“Remember, I can have you shot.”

Amsel raised his eyebrows, bemused. “If I were to guess, she would be Marla, Marco’s twin. They obviously take after their father’s side of the family – they’ve both managed to escape the curse of the Hartoum nose. Your sisters were rather well-endowed in that area, as I recall.”

“Are you here for a reason, old man?” Gerard grinned.

“Solar flares.”

“What of them?”

“Our digi-link observatories have detected what appears to be a record number of solar ejections and flares in the last day and a half.” Amsel’s eyes lit with excitement until he realized it wasn’t shared.

“And how is this important?”

Amsel pursed his lips “We’re seven years away from the solar maximum, and there was no warning. I’m here to ask for permission to confirm our findings with my counterpart in Korlune. I want to verify that we were just hit by a massive geomagnetic storm.”

Gerard sat back in his chair. “Confirm? You’re usually hunched under the telescope at Mount Solomon; didn’t you see them?”

“Sadly, I was at a seminar here in town. Public speaking engagements are one of those annoying things that go with the job.” Amsel stretched his shoulders back until something made a popping noise; he smiled in relief. “So, do I have permission?”

The Field Marshal studied his old friend silently, then grinned. “You’ve already done it, haven’t you?”

“Do I have permission?”

“Are our recent power problems related to this storm?” Gerard asked. His grin broadened as he waited for the astronomer to answer him.

Amsel’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

Gerard gave in. “The prisoners have escaped, but let’s lock the cell door for forms’ sake. You have my retroactive permission; what did you learn?”

“According to the data, we just experienced the storm of the century. From what I understand, Korlune had a series of blackouts as well.” Amsel slid his digipad across the desk.

Gerard flicked through the information quickly. “I see a lot of equations, graphs, and charts. Why didn’t we get any visuals?”

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid. I’ve got all of our hard-link telescopes focused on Hybor and the debris field right now. If I’d had any warning that this was going to occur, I would have taken steps to record it.”

“It seems odd that the Korlo don’t have any images to contribute; they have cameras pointed everywhere else.” Gerard shivered as something cold seemed to caress his brain. A familiar headache was starting to form behind his eyes. Damn fever’s returning.

“Almost all of our digi-link systems went down during the event, and Korlune is even more reliant on that technology than we are. We lost half our archive at Belen yesterday when the central hub fried. Fortunately, recovering the information is just a matter of data entry, and that’s what I have interns for.” Amsel chuckled softly. “Rumor has it that Ankoresh Internal Security lost a decade’s worth of Intel. It seems they kept their backups on the same network. Heads will roll for that, I’m sure.”

"Certainly if Marla gets her way." Gerard laughed, despite the headache, then checked the time and stood. “I’m sorry to cut this short Amsel, but I’m due for a checkup at the Med-Bay. How about dinner tonight, my treat?”

“A free meal always suits me…” Amsel studied his friend, his brows drew together with concern. “Are you ill?”

The Field Marshal waved off his concerns. “Just decon protocols to complete; I’ll be fine. I’ll have Marco pick you up at nineteen hundred. You can bore me with the details of the event then.”

The elderly astronomer stood as well. “Until tonight then.” He turned and left.

*

“Your blood pressure’s high again.” Chief Med-Tech Katherine Trel put away the old-style cuff and frowned at her patient.

Gerard shrugged. “Goes with the job; besides this gives you the opportunity to nag me about my eating habits and smoking.” His grin exuded boyish charm.

Kat wasn’t falling for it. She removed a narrow plastic strip from a dispenser and fit it expertly into a breathing mask, then she placed it over his mouth and nose. “Exhale please.” She took the breath reading and frowned deeply as the strip turned black. “Are you taking your Rycellin tabs?”

“Four times a day, as ordered, Kat. So, was I right? Is the fever returning?”

“It’s too early to tell.” She shone a light in his eyes and checked the color. “A Nekrys mold infection is tricky to manage at the best of times, and you insist on provoking it constantly. Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to increase your dosage.” She poured a thick, chalky liquid into a glass and handed it to him. “Drink. It’ll help with the headache.”

“Fah.” He grimaced as he drank it down in one go. “Sometimes I wonder if the cure isn’t worse than the disease.”

Kat just grinned as she took the glass from him. “No alcohol for the next twenty-four hours, unless you want another dose of this. I mean it, Gerard.”

“Yes’m.” Gerard saluted playfully as he reached for his hat.

“I’d like to see you again in three days.” Kat handed him a card.

He grunted. “Paperwork; that’s what I have staff for. Can’t you just send the memo to my aide?”

“The clinic’s digi-link systems are still down, so it’s up to you to

remember; don’t make me send Claire to fetch you.” Her smile widened as the name registered.

“You’re sure she’s a Med-Tech and not a Mech? Her arms are bigger than my head… She could probably change a track on one of my tanks single-handed.”

Kat went to the dispensary and retrieved a bottle of pills. “No poaching my staff; replacements are almost impossible to get.”

She tossed them to him. “Double your pills for now, and I’ll redo your bloodwork when you come back.”

“Yes’m.” Gerard slipped them into the pocket of his jacket and left the Med-Bay.

*

Amsel stood outside his home and checked his digipad to see if the network was up. He grumbled when he saw it wasn’t. “Give me hard-link any day,” he muttered as he strolled out to the curb.

It was a warm evening and the moon, Sharbu, was almost full. The reflected light made the debris field that arced around it glow a pale silver. The largest piece, Hybor, appeared just above the halo; a silver crescent punctuating the celestial display. It was an image the elderly astronomer had seen many times, and it never failed to take his breath away.

Amsel held his hand up and measured the aura between his thumb and index finger. “Odd.” He squinted, frowned, then extracted a compact telescope from an interior pocket of his jacket. Removing the lens cap, he took a closer look at Hybor. Something’s not right. Then it hit him. Tellium always glows blue after geomagnetic storms powerful enough to produce hard x-rays… why aren’t you blue? He felt his pulse quicken as he realized the importance of this observation. If there was no storm, what happened? He absently hunted for his digipad then checked the device to see if it could still take pictures. It beeped when he pressed the icon, and he grinned, snapping three clear shots of the moons. Amsel rummaged around in his collective pockets and pulled out a pen and weathered notebook, then scribbled. Get Melissa to check archives for other instances – Hybor non-reactive during solar activity.

*

Headlights and the dull roar of an engine told him that his ride was approaching so he tucked everything away. “Good evening, Captain Angorel.” Amsel greeted the slim young man as he stepped out of the sand-colored vehicle.

Marco flashed him a broad smile. “Good evening, sir. I hope you haven’t been waiting long?” He walked around the front of the car and opened the door for the elderly man.

“Not at all.” Amsel climbed into the passenger seat and adjusted it.

“The Field Marshal may be delayed. He instructed me to keep you company just in case.” Marco slid back behind the wheel of the car and put it in gear.

“I can’t remember; are you much of a sky-watcher, Marco?”

“I’ve seen the noctilucent clouds over Shava Crater and witnessed a few meteor showers while out on patrol, but… no, I can’t say that I go out of my way. Why?”

“How does Hybor look to you tonight?”

Marco glanced up at the sky and squinted. “Bright? I’m sorry, sir. What am I missing?”

“Your motorized equipment – the frames are made of a tellium composite, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“Ever hear stories of them glowing blue?”

Marco paused, then chuckled. “Now that you mention it, yes, but I attributed that to long tours with little sleep. What does that have to do with Hybor?”

“We’ll see. I’ll let you know.” Amsel dug back into his pocket and found his notebook and pen. Melissa – Any reports of tanks and/or heavy equipment glowing during solar activity. If so, anything during this recent storm? He tucked the book and pen back. “Where are we dining?”

“Tibris; my uncle said he was in the mood for meat this evening.” A wry smile crossed Amsel’s face as he reflected on what else the club specialized in. “Is there any word as to when the digi-link systems will be back online?”

“The estimate is a week for basic services; essential networks are taking priority over public ones…” Marco scowled and brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt in front of an impromptu checkpoint. “What the hell?”

A soldier approached them with his long-arm slung. “ID please.” He promptly saluted when he recognized Marco. “Captain Angorel, Sir.”

“As you were. What’s going on, soldier? I was unaware of any problem in this district.”

“There’s been an incident; a maintenance worker found a bomb in a local water recycling plant. Fortunately, it didn’t detonate. We’ve locked the area down and are doing a sweep of the surrounding Diasporan neighborhood.”

“Forward a full report to me at command,” Marco answered grimly. “Carry on.”

The soldier saluted and returned to his post.

“So much for the shortcut. Sorry, this is going to add half an hour to our trip.” Marco apologized as he turned the car around.

The city was fully bathed in Sharbu’s light, and the residual heat coming off the buildings gave them the appearance of shimmering. The warm wind blew in from the east, and reddish sand was beginning to collect along curbs and around the wheels of parked cars.

Amsel coughed. “Perul’s a lovely city, but it gets too many sandstorms for my taste.”

“This one won’t hit for another day or two.” Marco closed the windows and set the vehicle’s ventilation system to filter.

“Then I’ll have to get my answers fast.”

“Pardon?” Marco raised an eyebrow.

“Forgive me; I’m fixated on the blue issue. You don’t mind if I finish my notes while I’m focused, do you?” He brandished his notebook.

“Not at all, sir.” They drove through another large Diasporan neighborhood as they skirted the trouble. Few lights shone from the windows, and no one was on the street.

His training kicked in and Marco kept a watchful eye on the road ahead. He saw furtive shadows move in alleys as they passed by, but no one emerged to challenge them. Marco discretely activated the vehicle's magshield.

“Isn’t this the market district? Where is everyone?” Amsel asked. “This place used to be quite lively at night.”

“Perul Authority may have set a curfew for all Diasporan while the networks are unstable.”

“That makes sense; especially with the impending storm.” Oblivious of the tension, Amsel went back to his notes.

Marco returned to his silent vigil, unable to shake his sense of impending doom.

*

Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside the restaurant and were met by armed guards. “Good evening, Captain Angorel, Professor Runic. Field Marshal Hartoum is waiting for you inside.”

“Thanks, sergeant.” Marco helped Amsel out of the car, then handed his keys to the soldier to park. Inside, they checked their coats and hats and entered the club. “Have you been here before?”

“Yes, but not since they renovated.” The elderly astronomer took a moment to study the new additions. The rose-colored, sandstone walls were carved with figures and ancestral glyphs; each panel an exquisite replica of ones found in the Kurum’Sai in Belen. Plain, curved stone arches met at a center peak, supporting the glass spire. The interior lighting was dim enough that Amsel could see the stars. “They’ve done a lovely job.”

“Mhmm,” Marco replied, distracted. He spotted his uncle sitting at a table near the back. “He’s already found company. She looks a bit old to be one of the entertainers.”

Amsel found himself bristling at the sight of his old nemesis. “That’s Doctor Selene Tekel. She used to teach archaeology at the academy in Belen before she… branched out.”

The Field Marshal looked over and motioned for the pair to join him. He introduced his companion as they sat. “I’m sure you’ve all met Selene? She was here alone, so I asked her to join us.”

“I hope you don’t mind?” she asked.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Marco replied graciously.

“Of course not.” Amsel gave her a tight-lipped smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Doctor Tekel.”

“Professor Runic.” Her smile was perfunctory. “You’re looking well.” She turned herself slightly and faced the other two men. “As I was saying to Gerard; I have exciting news. “We’ve found another city. This one is nearer the West Coast and is proving to be a treasure trove of artifacts. It seems our ancestors were less primitive than we imagined.” She glanced over at Amsel and grinned. “Fortunately, none of my equipment was damaged during the recent solar storm. That must have been quite spectacular to watch. Were any of our telescopes pointed in the right direction?”

The Field Marshal chuckled.

Amsel knew she was just baiting him; he ignored it. “Of course not, but I have a suspicion that it may not have mattered.”

Everyone at the table stared at the elderly astronomer.

“Pardon?” Gerard asked. “Earlier today, you said you’d confirmed it… You showed me evidence and called it the storm of the century or some such nonsense.”

Amsel locked eyes with Doctor Tekel. “What color does tellium glow when in the presence of hard x-rays?”

“Blue, but what does that have to do with—”

“What have our scientists determined Hybor and the debris field to be composed of?” Amsel asked, innocently.

“Tellium.” Selene answered, putting the clues together quickly.

The elderly astronomer pointed up at the dome. Sharbu and Hybor were distinctly visible through the clear glass. “What color is Hybor tonight?”

*

Selene looked up at the silver crescent and felt the Collective stir on the fringes of her consciousness. There was no solar event… What agenda would be served by such a hoax? She asked.

Find out, the Collective replied. Hartoum must investigate this threat.

“That’s a valid observation, Professor Runic.” Selene turned her attention to Gerard and placed her hand on his. “I think this should be looked into.”

The storm was a hoax. A many-voiced whisper started at the base of Gerard’s skull and resonated out from there. He felt an odd, series of pinpricks deep inside his head and suddenly smelled smoke. Gerard quickly glanced in the direction of the kitchen. “Are they burning bread in there”

Marco sniffed the air. “I don’t think so, sir.”

Gerard absently rubbed his right temple, trying to relieve the pressure from his growing headache. What agenda was served by this? A sea of voices spoke as one inside his head, pulling his focus from the conversation. “I’ll begin an inquiry…” He suddenly felt like he was being smothered from within. Gerard fought for control of his senses and felt his mind begin to splinter. “I’ll root out this threat…” he muttered under his breath. Pursue source, pursue intent, the voices sang. Gerard’s consciousness shattered as the blood vessel in his brain exploded.

The Collective went silent, uncertain of what had happened.

Selene gently lifted her hand and broke contact.

“I plan to go through the archives in the morning...” Amsel paused and frowned. “Are you all right, Gerard? Your nose is bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” The Field Marshal dabbed the blood away on his sleeve and examined it abstractly. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Amsel. I regret I must leave you all now but there matters I must attend to.” He stood. “Captain Angorel, I will require your services.”

Marco stood, surprised. “Sir? I brought Professor Runic.”

“You don’t mind finding your own way home, do you, Amsel.” It wasn’t a question.

The elderly astronomer realized he was being dismissed and frowned. “Of course not. Perhaps you would like to reschedule? You could bring your charming niece?”

The Field Marshal didn’t respond, he was already striding across the room in search of his coat, Marco in tow.

“That was very odd,” Amsel said as he watched them leave. He turned to say something to Selene, but she was already gone.

*

Ten hours later Master Librarian, Melissa Williams, unlocked the public door to the library and made her way upstairs to the reception desk.

“Ma’am? Professor Runic came in last night and asked to see you the moment you got in,” the security guard said as he passed her on the stairs.

“At the institute or—”

“He’s still here.”

“Thanks, Neil.” Melissa knew precisely where the elderly astronomer would be. She made her way down the spiral staircase through the concourse and into the history section; she smiled when she saw the lights were on in the astronomy archive. Old tomes, maps, and papers littered the tables. Amsel was oblivious to everything as he studied the handwritten records in front of him. “Professor Runic?”

“Blue… blue… Did they just not document it, or was it absent as well?” He muttered as he shuffled through the notes.

Melissa tried again, louder this time. “Professor Runic?”

“Hmm?” He looked up and peered at her over his glasses. “Excellent, you’re here. I need you to—”

“Good morning to you too, Amsel.” She grinned.

He had the good grace to blush as he cleared his throat. “Yes. Good morning. I’m sorry my dear, it’s been a long night, and I’m at wit’s end trying to solve this.”

The Librarian reached over and picked up the top book in the pile next to him. “Solar Events, Years Twenty-Four Fifty through Twenty-Five hundred?”

“The question is simple; is Hybor always blue during solar storms?” Amsel let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve gone through records dating back two-hundred years, and most of them say ‘yes’. I can’t tell if the ones that don’t mention it were because of sloppy bookkeeping, someone took it for granted, or it didn’t. I’ve cross-referenced it with observations in the field, military maneuvers, and even delved into some of the Tol-Set Monastic records – which are very good by the way – and still there are gaps.”

“I take it Hybor didn’t react to this latest storm?” Melissa asked, reaching for the large star map in the center of the table.

“No.”

“Was this event unusually powerful?” She took it over to the wall and clipped it in place, so she could examine it more closely.

“According to all our digi-link information, it was the largest measured; it overloaded all the sensors in Korlune and here in Ankoresh.” He frowned. “The scale is backed up by the amount of damage it did.”

“Perhaps Hybor’s radiochromism varies with the level of radiation?” she offered.

The biggest grin split his face. “You’re brilliant. If I were fifty years younger, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d settle for a cup of tea and a fresh choi roll,” Melissa responded as her stomach grumbled.

“Certainly… May I use your hard-link system, first?”

Melissa led the way up to her office and unlocked the door. She left the elderly astronomer to make his call in private and rounded up two assistants to help her put the books back.

*

Chief Field Tech Evan Stannic sat in front of an old-style hard-link system, pen in hand. “Okay, Amsel—” The door behind him opened and he looked back, smiling when he saw Ed. He turned his attention back to the screen. “Do you have any idea of how powerful the storm was? I just got back and haven’t seen any reports yet—”

Ed spat out his coffee and coughed violently.

“Excuse me for a minute.” Evan put the elderly astronomer on hold and turned to see if Ed was choking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What’s Runic asking about the storm?”

“He’s asking about tellium’s radiochromism; whether it could vary in the presence of extreme electromagnetic radiation. He wants me to run some tests.” One of Evan’s bushy eyebrows arched up. Why?”

“Tell him you’ll get back to him,” Ed whispered urgently.

Evan frowned but complied. “Sorry, Amsel, I have to go. Can you send me your data? I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” The old man’s entire face crinkled as he smiled. “I’ve just uploaded my files. Give my best to Edward.” A new folder appeared on the monitor.

“Received, and I will.” Evan disconnected and spun his chair around to face his partner. “Okay. What’s up?”

“The storm didn’t happen. Nash— N01 and I cooked it up between us to get you away from Ankoresh Internal Security. I supplied the EM pulse, and he supplied the rest.”

Evan sat in his chair and stared at his long-time friend and partner. A minute passed before he spoke. “You did what exactly?”

Ed grabbed a stool and sat. “I had a tip that they’d tracked transmissions originating here and terminating in Korlune. I had C01 monitor the BBS for any sign of your login and decided it was in everyone’s best interest if I destroyed everything, they might have uncovered…” His voice trailed off.

“Wise. But you dragged Nash into it?”

“I needed his skill-set, and he volunteered when I told him what had happened. You owe me fifty kel by the way; he researched us as well.”

Evan’s brows were still knit in concern. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but do you know what information he based his portion of this farce on?”

Ed got up and got a fresh cup of coffee. “I sent Nash everything on that storm from fifteen years ago, and he did a lot of research in the archives. He was online for almost three days straight.” He took a sip. “So, you’re happy to be at liberty and not rotting in a cell somewhere then?”

“Of course I am. I said thank you, didn’t I?” Evan turned back to the console and logged onto the BBS.

“No, point of fact, you didn’t, but that’s all right; I can read between the lines.” Ed grinned.

C01: Good morning, E01. You have been away for 10 days, 3 hours.

E01: Good morning, C01. Is there anything in the archive about tellium’s physical response to EM radiation?

C01: Yes. There is a large section on radiochromism in relation to the native minerals of Tamyrh. Tellium is listed; N01 accessed it recently.

E01: Does tellium always glow blue in the presence of EM radiation?

C01: Yes. Theoretically, it could shift out of your visible spectrum during an extreme Class X solar magnetic event, but there is no recorded data to support that hypothesis.

Could. Evan sat back in the chair not entirely comfortable with the answer, then he returned his hands to the keyboard.

E01: Extrapolating from the data available, how plausible is this?

C01: There is a 51% chance that tellium’s radiochromism would be undetectable by the naked eye in extreme EM radiation.

E01: Thank you C01. Evan signed off and dug into his pocket for his pipe. He said nothing as he filled and lit it.

Ed peered over his shoulder. “So, what are we going to do?”

“In two hours’ time, we’ll advance a theory as fact.”

*

One month later Marco entered his favorite bar and looked around for his cousin. He spotted him, sitting at the back of the room. Let’s hope you’ll believe me.

“I hear you had a successful campaign in Kes?” Major Karl Hartoum asked.

Marco made a sour face. “Campaign? Hardly.” He took the bench across from his cousin and they ordered their drinks.

“What happened?”

He still remembered the angry protest they’d been met with. It was evident that someone had advance knowledge of what they were there to do. “I had orders to move the Diasporan population to the old camps along the Northern Rim. They were… reluctant to comply, so I commanded the brigade to sweep the two largest neighborhoods and conduct the citizens living there to a safe zone. Then I had the abandoned buildings shelled. It’s hard to live in smoke and rubble. I didn’t have to do a second sweep; the point had been made. They boarded the trains without further outbursts.”

“All that and no casualties?”

“Nothing physical." The waiter returned with two drinks and accepted the military chit. “We’ll be running a tab,” Marco said.

“Certainly, Captain Angorel.”

Marco discreetly switched the small, white noise generator in his pocket on and waited to see if Karl reacted. He didn’t. Thank you for not being as suspicious as the rest of our family. “Order what you like, my treat.” Marco smiled, comparing his cousin to his father.

Karl Hartoum was a younger, darker-skinned, better-looking version of his father, the Field Marshal. As the eldest, if he’d been a legitimate son in the eyes of the Elder Families, he would be the heir apparent. However, he wasn't. Karl was a bastard, brought home after a campaign when his father was still a Captain. Marco still felt disloyal for what he was about to do, but he needed allies.

“How’s Marla, it’s been forever since I’ve seen her.” Karl sipped his beer and studied the younger man; something had shaken his cousin’s notorious calm.

“She’s well, working her way up through the ranks of Ankoresh External Security. She’s stationed in Perul right now. If you’re staying, you should drop in. I know she’d love to see you. How’s cousin Zia?”

“Dealing with the Bellatrix mess last time I got a message from her.” Karl waited. There was tension, even in their small talk.

“Can I get you another drink? I’m going to have something to eat. Join me if you wish.”

The Major placed his order and sat back in his seat. “Okay. What’s on your mind, Marco? I haven’t seen you like this... ever.”

Marco sighed; he knew the next few minutes would either unite them in common cause or sunder their friendship. He took a deep breath. “I have concerns about your father’s state of mental health. He sees enemies everywhere, he’s becoming careless with the lives of those he commands, and in his choice of targets.” Marco stopped. He didn’t want to put too much on the table, without getting something in return.

“C'mon, you’re exaggerating. He probably just needs to take another tour of the line and relax.” Karl took another sip of his beer. “Perhaps you should take some leave yourself, visit family? You’ve been through a lot in the last year, and I think it’s wearing on you—”

“You’ve been away.” Marco frowned darkly. “Things have changed... The style of orders has changed. We would never have forced conscription a decade ago, or forced a civilian population to move, and yet what have I been doing for the last month? I’ll probably get a medal for it.” He finished his drink and set the bottle down harder than he intended. “The man I remember and that I signed on to serve, would never have issued those orders. He’d have made an appeal for volunteers, and the recruiting offices would have been flooded. He never would have moved a settled, peaceful population. I put it to you that something’s wrong with him. This problem will only get worse if it’s allowed to fester. He needs to step down... or be helped.” It was said. Marco knew that if Karl chose to, he could either shoot him or turn him in as a traitor; he’d have grounds.

Karl’s eyes darkened. “You can stop right there. You're family, but I advise you not repeat these concerns to anyone else, lest they accuse you of sedition.”

“Keep your eyes open Karl. You’re more likely to fall victim to his madness than I am... Be safe.” Marco watched as his cousin stood.

“Thank you for your concern and the drink. Give my regards to Marla. Forgive me, but it’s getting late, and I have to prep for my next assignment.” Karl walked away.

*

Six weeks later, Major Hartoum and his team gathered in the hydroponics dome of Junelle Station, within the borders of Korlune. He waited until the scout returned and signaled the all clear. Karl frowned as he drew his team together. “You have your orders, find locations in the lower ventilation shafts for the charges. Keep in mind, the placement is important. They’ll need to conduct the force of the blast up and out and crack the dome.” Even as he said the words, they bothered him.

"Major, we were told that all the facilities being targeted were high military. We've been all over this place and our intel was wrong. There's no real military presence at Junelle; the bulk of the population is Diasporan who work for Korlune Military Research and Development." Karl's second in command gave voice to the squad's misgivings. "These people aren’t soldiers, they’re civilians. Why are we here?"

"Orders, Captain." Karl knew there were six other teams spread out along the border, each with a similar mission. It was to be a coordinated effort, and on paper, it was an impressive operation; take out key sites from Elune Cluster to the Seep. Although he hadn’t visited the other locations, he had an ugly suspicion they looked a lot like this one. Karl was about to resume the briefing when the main doors opened. He motioned for everyone to find a place to hide, then melded back into the shadows.

A tall, blond man had entered, and a red-haired woman was with him. As they crossed in front of his hiding spot, he could see that they were both quite young. Karl recognized the blond as a member of the Tech pool, and watched silently as they wandered out onto the large stone balcony that overlooked the main hydroponics garden. The lights were shifting to the end of the day cycle, and in the half-light, you didn’t see the ceiling of the dome, and it gave the illusion of being out under a night sky. It was obvious they’d come there to be alone.

The young woman spoke. “I remember the first time you brought me here.”

The young man helped her up on the on the stone rail and kissed her. “So do I; it’s one of my favorite memories.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss.

From their vantage point, Karl knew the couple could see the lower gardens. He hoped the rest of his team had found adequate cover. The pair spoke quietly between bouts of affection, but the Major was close enough to be able to hear most of their conversation. It only served to underscore that these people were civilians.

The young man laughed warmly.

Karl steeled himself. At least they’ll be together when it happens. The thought brought no comfort. He reflected on the day he and his unit had received their orders. He’d worked behind enemy lines at the end of the last war, but it had always been a quick in and out. Deep cover was reserved for Agents. These people aren’t our enemy; this isn’t a strategic target. Karl’s conscience won. I’m scrubbing the mission. Another thought threaded its way into his consciousness. What if Marco was right? The watering mist shocked him back to the present and dislodged the niggle. No. It’s just bad intel. He took a quick look at the pair and wished them well, then escaped back into the shadows; he and his team had work to undo.

*

Two weeks later Karl and his team returned to Ankoresh, only to be detained during check-in in Perul. They were stripped of their weapons, and then bundled into a truck.

“Where are we going?” Karl asked the driver.

“You and your team are being sequestered for debriefing.”

Karl frowned and looked up at the sky, trying to get his bearings. “I didn’t know we had any active sites to the North East…”

“The Field Marshal ordered that all Northern outposts be reactivated.”

The desert sped by silently as Karl contemplated the news. It was just before dawn when they arrived, and MPs greeted the truck once it was inside the gates.

“Major Hartoum? We have an order to detain you and your team.”

“Detain? On what grounds?”

“Dereliction of duty and treason.”

“What? We… I gave the order to return; my squad was only following orders.” Karl blustered, incredulously.

“We have our orders, sir. You are to come with me, and your team is to wait elsewhere.” The MP indicated that Karl should accompany him.

“I’ll sort this out, don’t worry,” Karl said as he walked past his team. “It’s a misunderstanding; a paperwork error.”

The MP escorted him into a small, flat-roofed sandstone building with a low door and no windows.

“Judging by the smell, this place hasn’t been used in a couple of centuries.” Karl observed.

“Wait in here, Major.” A guard held a metal door open and indicated the plain room beyond.

Karl observed the lack of handle on the inside of the door, and the fact that there were two chairs facing each other, separated by a long, metal table.

"Someone will be in to discuss the situation with you, directly.”

“I want to see your commander, now.”

“And so you shall,” a familiar voice announced from the hall.

Karl stood abruptly and saluted as his father entered the room. “Sir!” When he met the Field Marshal’s eyes, nothing familiar stared back.

"Father?"

The Field Marshal didn't blink. “Report Major. Why did you scrub your mission? Were you compromised?”

All the hair on Karl’s body stood on end; he fought the primal urge to run, and stood his ground. “Our intel was false; the location wasn’t a military installation. Based on our findings, I made a command decision to return for new orders, Sir.”

“You chose to do this; despite the fact you were a piece of a larger plan? I’m disappointed in you Karl, letting sentiment get the better of you. This is war. Your actions weakened the positions of the other teams in the field and have compromised the objective.”

“War?” Karl’s eyes widened. “We’re not under attack, and even if we were, what is the gain in striking non-military targets? They offer nothing in the way of resources and are poorly placed to become hard points in future incursions.”

The Field Marshal smiled, but it was only a physical thing, there was nothing of Gerard Hartoum in it. “A tiny, but essential part of a much larger plan Major. As you’ve seen fit to remove yourself from the line, I won’t trouble your conscience with the rest of it—” A knock at the door interrupted the Elder Hartoum. He frowned as Marco entered. “Report, Captain.”

“The sentencing has been carried out. sir. The new team reports they have secured a means into Junelle, and will complete the mission. Is there anything else you need at this time, or should I go and see to our travel arrangements?” Marco kept his eyes fixed on the Field Marshal; he didn’t look at Karl once.

“I’m almost done here. One last detail...” The Field Marshal drew his sidearm, turned, and opened fire.

Karl collapsed to the floor after the second bullet hit home.

“Can’t abide a traitor… Now I’m done.” The Field Marshal turned his back on his son’s body and left the room. “Arrange for him to be stored with the rest of his team, Captain.”

Marco quickly composed a message and sent it. He glanced back at his cousin before shutting the door.

*

“Lay still Major, you’ve sustained a lot of damage, and I’ve only just managed to stop the internal bleeding.”

A masked figure loomed over Karl as he looked up. His vision was blurry, but he understood what the familiar three light assembly overhead meant. “Surgery…Where?” Everything hurt; he had no idea the body could feel this much pain.

“Nuul. You were sent to us in suspension after sustaining multiple gunshot wounds. Fortunately, we got to you in time, you’ll recover.” The Med-Tech undid the mask and looked down at him as she removed her gloves with a snap. “All done, nice and tidy.”

“Why would he—” Karl couldn’t complete the sentence, deep down he knew the man who’d shot him was not his father.

“Hmm? What was that?”

“Nothing, I’m just groggy. Not much is making sense right now. Everything hurts.”

The Med-Tech frowned when he said that. “I’ll adjust the blockers. Once we move you to a room, I can give you something more for the pain.” She turned the dial on the machine next to him, and the relief was instant.

I need to stay focused. “No drugs, please. Blockers are fine… I… I’m a practicing Kai.” It was a lie, but it was all he could come up with in the moment.

The Med-Tech nodded, adding the information to his chart. "No drugs for you, then."

If I make it out of here, I’ll convert. Karl made the promise there.

“I’m Doctor Narsyl by the way.” She smiled broadly.

Karl was charmed by the gap between her front teeth. Most would have had something done about that. He returned her grin. “Call me Karl. I’d shake your hand, but I don’t think I can lift my arms right now. I’m afraid you’re stuck with a verbal thank you.”

“It’s better than I usually get.”

Karl noted that she didn’t offer her first name, but didn't press. “Now that I’m going to live, how long will it take to recover and are there any orders waiting for me once I’m well?” His vision was adjusting back to normal. There were no cameras or obvious listening devices in sight.

“A sealed file chip arrived shortly after you did. I can arrange for you to have it after you’ve had a chance to sleep. You won’t be in any position to start an assignment for at least two months, so waiting until tomorrow to read it won’t make a difference, will it?” Doctor Narsyl casually turned the pain blocker up another notch.

Karl shut his eyes for what seemed to be a few seconds, and when he opened them again, he was in a bed.

Doctor Narsyl looked up from the foot of it. “Ah, good morning Major! I’m afraid I can’t offer you solid food yet, your intestinal tract is still healing, but I do have a lovely saline solution to add to your IV stand. Trust me, it’s filled with everything you should have as a part of a balanced diet.”

“Yum.”

She grinned.

“Are you always this cheerful?” He felt hung over.

“Is it something else that’s against your religion? If you’d prefer someone more downbeat, I can arrange for Doctor Kalais to treat you. He makes cadavers look friendly by comparison.”

Karl noticed the insignia on her arm; they were both the same rank. “No, a positive attitude is good, but I find your behavior to be…” He looked for the right word.

“Unprofessional? Overly familiar? Irreverent?” she offered.

“Non-military.”

"Really?" Doctor Narsyl laughed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret Major; Nuul isn’t a site that normally treats wounded, we do other work here. My bedside manner is probably not as polished as other the Med-Techs you’ve encountered because I’m not given the opportunity to practice it. At least, not on the living. I’ve not had any complaints from my other patients, but by virtue of you being alive, you can offer a fresh perspective. With that said, any constructive criticism would be welcome.” She waited for ten seconds before she grinned.

“Am I your first living patient?” Karl started to feel queasy.

“Yes.” She winked at him and then hung the new IV bag. "Since I graduated."

“Am I really the only living patient in this facility?”

“As a matter of fact, you are, and your arrival was well timed. I’m between projects right now; if you’d been a month earlier, we would have had to keep you in suspension…” She adjusted the drip. “And that would have radically decreased your chances of survival.”

"Uh… Why?"

“Not everyone does well in suspension Major. Didn’t you know that? You noticed you couldn’t move your arms when we last spoke? That form of paralysis is a common side effect for those with strong Ebo ancestry. Your last name aside I’d say your mother was Ebo, if I were to just go by the blood work.”

Karl attempted to lift his arms and found they were still incredibly heavy. He sighed.

"Cheer up, Major." Doctor Narsyl offered while patting her pockets. “Only a couple more days left of that. To be fair, it’s helping your cause. Your body really needs to be still while it recovers, there are a lot of delicate items that tear easily, and I’m not keen on having to go back in and fix things because you tried something vigorous.” She found what she was looking for and produced a file chip. “This is yours. I can load it into a digipad so you can read it if you like, or, you can wait until you are capable of doing it yourself. Your choice.”

“I accept your kind offer, though I would appreciate it if you didn’t read over my shoulder.” He smiled up at her.

“Knowing what’s on this is none of my business.” She took the chip out of the container and inserted it into the digipad. Without looking at the screen, she placed it face down on his chest and moved his arms up so he could hold the device himself.

“I’m going to go and get some breakfast; I’ll check back in an hour.” She left him to read the message.

The Hartoum family crest appeared, and he spotted the small Kualt figure of the Angorel family on the lower left side of the shield. Marco. He pressed it with his thumb, and the scanner read his print. The message was brief; it contained a numbered account with a Korlo Cluster reference, a set of coordinates, followed by a short note, “I’ll take care of things. Keep yourself alive.”

Karl smiled and committed the information to memory. Nice touch, making the account number the same as my military ID. I guess this means I'm officially retired. Thank you, cousin. He deleted the evidence and drifted off to sleep.

***