The last of the ground-pounding impacts subsided as the ships worked to defend themselves from these new threats. Ada and Clarissa kept speeding forward.
They all saw the UEF’s main base towering over the rocky outcrops and hills on both sides of their narrow path. It was built into a mountain, offering the ultimate protection—or at least, the best possible protection out here. It wasn’t impervious to a sustained assault, but it would take considerable firepower to breach its defenses. Ada remembered why she didn’t recognize it. This was the back of the base, a restricted entrance full of equally-restricted facilities. She never saw this side.
Several warning shots were fired in front of the two hoverbikes as they reached the small opening that led to the huge iron doors that served as the back entrance. Ada and Clarissa heeded those warnings, stopped, and turned off their bikes. The doors opened, and a group of two dozen troops came straight at them.
“Okay. Let’s try this again,” said Ada as she stepped off the hoverbike and held up her hands in surrender. The rest of the group followed, hoping that they would be greeted with a little more hospitality than at the now-destroyed AIC base.
At the very least, Ada hoped they didn’t get thrown in a trash incinerator.
Chapter 4
An Alien Moon
Sydal made his way out of the hospital into the streets of the Lunar Dome. Those streets looked and sounded empty. That part of the moon was never bereft of some action, some activity. Witnessing it so barren was unsettling and ominous.
“Hello!” yelled out Sydal. He heard his own voice echo. There was no expectation that he’d actually get an answer. Instead, he just wanted to see any sign of life, any indication that he wasn’t alone.
Sydal crossed the street. Pieces of loose trash and paper were everywhere. He stopped right before reaching the other side, knelt down, and grabbed one. It wasn’t just random office paperwork or trash; it was of all things, a flyer. The detective couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a paper flyer, and was intrigued enough to read it.
Attention! You are all required to report for mandatory processing under the new laws enacted to protect you and your fellow citizens in this time of war. Processing centers can be found in the Lunar Civil Center, Nieman Forward, the Palisade, and Armstrong Center.
All residents of the Dark Side facility must report to the processing center in the Public Archive Building and the LTA Center. Again, this is MANDATORY. All citizens are required to report. Any and all citizens who do not comply will be subject to penalties. Remember, this is for your own protection and safety. The United Earth Federation thanks you for your cooperation and solidarity in this time of war.
Admiral Daisuke Honma
Sydal dropped the flyer. He didn’t understand what was happening. He knew it was something terrible, but there was a stark contrast between thinking that a conspiracy was unfolding, and seeing the end result.
Though it took a lot to ignore the natural urge to investigate the mystery in the Lunar Dome, Sydal had a more important task. He needed to find and save his son, Matthew. All indications pointed to his son being at the UEF base on the moon, about fifteen miles from the dome. As he often had since Aitken Basin, the detective needed to find a ride.
Sydal wasn’t going to go to the docks. He figured that if there were still soldiers and cultists in the Lunar Dome, that was where they’d be. If he were them, that was where he’d post up, waiting for any stragglers trying to escape. So he had to think of an alternative. That’s when it hit him: an idea so obvious it hurt.
The LTA has a service station in the Lunar Dome, over by the tunnel to the water treatment plant. They must have some rovers and buses there, just waiting. And with the police override codes, I can take any of them. Okay, Matthew, daddy’s coming.
Bolstered by actually having a plan, the beaten-up, injured, and heavily medicated Sydal hurried down the street. He stayed close to the buildings on either side of the road, mostly store and restaurant fronts. If a patrol did come, he could simply hop inside one of them to hide.
Sydal made it out of the commercial area of the Lunar Dome, turning a corner, and then he could see the industrial district and the LTA station. The only problem was that there were two people wandering the streets between him and it.
Shit. Of course, when I’m almost there...
Sydal hid and craned his head around the corner to observe the two people. They were a man and an elderly woman. Both of them had trouble walking, like children learning to use their feet and legs for the first time. He didn’t know for sure, but he had a feeling that maybe they were products of one of the processing centers. They almost looked drunk.
Choices; life was about a series of choices. Depending on the choice you made, the outcome of your life—the good and the bad—came as a result. Sydal had made a lot of bad choices leading up to that moment. He’d made good ones, like marrying Maria and having kids. But in that moment, when he had to choose whether to continue towards the LTA station past the weirdos or look for a different route, it could have grave consequences. So he made his choice.
Sydal stepped out into the street. Pistol in hand, he walked towards the odd couple. The closer he got, the more their appearance bothered him. Their faces were twisted and loose, as if they were wearing the skinned visages of their victims. Neither of them talked; they just made odd guttural noises. A couple of times they bumped into each other, and snapped at each other like dogs or wild animals. That made him disengage the gun’s safety.
“Hello? Excuse me!” Sydal called out to the two people, since they didn’t seem to notice him. That was, until they did.
Both of the strangers looked up at Sydal. Their bottom jaws elongated, going down to their chests. Out of those mouths they let out high-pitched shrieks before running as fast as their wobbly legs could take them, straight at him.
Sydal wasn’t terribly surprised. He knew that Fredrich Bausman wouldn’t be the only one of those monsters. Still, it was disheartening and frightening. Because those two strangers were fully capable and, he had no doubt, had every intention of ripping him to shreds.
After brief consideration, Sydal realized running wasn’t an option. He was in no shape and frankly, he was angry and wanted to kill some shit. So he lifted his pistol, aimed it directly at the elderly female monster, and started firing.
All Sydal really remembered about his first confrontation with the Shapeless was the dodging, and the bladed hands and sheer ferocity of the creature. He’d forgotten that bullets didn’t do much of anything except annoy the monster. History repeated itself.
Sydal regretted not running instantly. He just wasn’t thinking straight, but it was too late now. With its head full of bullet holes, the elderly monster kept coming. Now there was no choice. He turned to run.
As soon as Sydal turned around, he was surprised to see a UEF military transport, a jeep, come screeching around the corner. There were two soldiers. One was behind the wheel. The other was on top, manning the gun.
“I knew it! We have some stragglers here,” said the soldier on the gun.
“Does that one have a pistol? I didn’t think they could actually do that, at least not yet. They’re still too young,” answered the driver.