Three Moons Over Calydon

Jase is on a desperate mission to recover an artifact and pay off his debts

approximately 4300 words

Three Moons Over Calydon

         

Calydon’s three moons shouldn’t have bothered Jase. After all, Pelion, his homeworld, had five moons in its night sky.  But these moons, one blood-red and the other two silvery-white, were different. The smallest, a tiny pearl crescent, hovered near its milky companion, while the other two humongous orbs dominated opposite sides of the sky. But it wasn't the size or colors that gnawed at the back of his mind. It was the sinister, conflicting triple shadows they cast, shadows that lurked behind every crumbling escarpment and every creeping briar. 

         The abrupt sound of talons scuttling in those shadows made him whirl and catch his breath.  He suppressed a gag at the sudden stench that seared his nostrils.  Somehow, the odor managed to combine burning rubber, spoiled eggs, and rotten garlic.  He pressed a knuckle to his upper lip and asked, “What in chaos was that?”

         His native guide, Manda Sue, sent the beam of her flashlight dancing across the stoney bramble. She snickered and answered in her sing-song accent, “Bless your cotton-pickin’ li’l heart.  ‘Tain’t nothin’ but an ol’ polerat. Nothin’ to git yer britches in a stir ovah.”

         Arlo, safe in their orbiting pocket cruiser, murmured to Jase through the implants embedded behind his ears, “She says to not worry. It’s merely the local version of conepatus chinga. Skunk, to you.”

         Jase glanced at Manda Sue. After spending the last month with her, he didn’t really need Arlo’s translation, but to be polite he subvocalized, Thanks. She doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.

         In fact, she was plenty smart. It was her appearance gave him pause.  To start with, there was her crimson-lipped toothy grin, followed by the twisted blond braids hanging down her back, topped by her goofy cowboy hat. Sure, she had something she called a “six-shooter” strapped to her hip that looked lethal, but her fancy pointed boots, her fringe-tipped leather skirt, and her embroidered tunic all looked like they’d been hand-made by a drunken threadster. A drunken, insane threadster.

         But then, he shouldn’t expect her to look like she’d stepped out of a boutique on Patrie, not when Calydon and everyone on it had been isolated from the rest of humanity for over half a millennium. He had to admit, without her, First Contact would have much harder.  Her smarts had smoothed the whole process, making it almost easy.  It didn’t hurt that her figure was shapely enough, if a bit smallish, and her blue eyes did have a certain sparkle.

         Arlo said, “She promises to be a useful addition to our team. My calculations show that her presence increases the probability of mission success from 24.24% to 82.38%.” 

         Jase subvocalized, Buzz off.  Like always, Arlo shut up. He was probably sulking again, not that it could possibly matter.

         For what felt like the hundredth time, Jase wished he’d waited until daylight before setting out to recover the chaos-be-damned package.  Except one day on this hell-hole dragged on for  three normal days, five if you used standard days. The planet’s ionosphere protected him here, on the surface, from the local star’s lethal radiation, but the shielding on his orbiting cruiser would only hold up for ten more standard days. If he wanted to get out of here with both the package and a working ship, it was now or never.

         The thing was, he had to get out of here with the package.  He was flat broke, and the cash Black Hand had promised him for retrieving the blasted thing was the difference between keeping and losing his ship. If he lost the ship, he’d lose the ship’s mind, too, and losing Arlo would be unbearable. So here he was, under contract to a bunch of gangsters, with a ridiculous native guide, and breathing air that stank like Satan’s farts.

         Jase breathed through his mouth. The air still stank.  He muttered, “Why the fuck did they bring skunks to a virgin planet?”

         Manda Sue either didn’t hear him or disdained to answer, but Arlo, as always overflowing with useless trivia, whispered, “Morphological evidence suggests they may have evolved from domesticated ferrets or, less likely, hamsters brought by the colonists. I could quickly confirm this hypothesis with an analysis of the genome, but you’d have to acquire a sample. I have weasel traps in my memory banks. Should I display them for you?”

         Jase again subvocalized buzz off, and Arlo again shut up. For now.  Jase sighed and nearly gagged.  All he wanted to do was recover the fucking package, get out of this stinking hell-hole, and get paid.

         At least Manda Sue seemed  to know where she was going.  Without her, he’d never have guessed that the scattered bits of rubble she called the “trail” led anywhere.  According to Arlo, Calydon had no native animals, so what they were following couldn’t be a game trail. That meant it must be a man-made left-over from the distant past. At least no native animals meant there were no predators or other dangerous critters to worry about, leaving just annoying vermin like polerats.

         In front of him, the path disappeared into an endless dark abyss between two craggy cliffs. “You have been this way before, all the way to the old base, right, Manda Sue?”

         She put her hands on her hips and gave him a scornful look. “Ah told ya, pahdnah. Yah got mud in yer ears? Or mebbe yer hade leaks? Mah grandpappy took me and my pa there lotsa tahms when ah was a youngin’, huntin’ for hogs. ‘Taint no base, though. Jest a ghost town.”

         Arlo said, “She questions your hearing and memory, but says she’s been there many times hunting for sus domesticus.”

         Jase interrupted him and subvocalized, You don’t need to translate every little thing, then adjusted his backpack and asked, “How much farther?”

         She eyed moons, spat on the gravel, and ground the toe of her boot into the trail. “Maybe could be thrah, fahr hahrs. Trail goes mostlah uphill aftah hyah.”

         Arlo whispered, “At your current rate of progress, you should be at the remains of Kaban Base in one hundred and ninety-two minutes.”

         Jase subvocalized Status of the base?

         Arlo’s answered, “Unchanged.”

         Manda Sue put her hands on her hips and scanned him from head to toe. “Think ya can make it?  Right then ya got a kinder fahr-away look.  Like yer sorter all tuckered out, or somethin’ the cat dragged in.”

         Jase set his mouth in grim line and tried to ignore his aching back and thighs. “I’m doing fine, thank you.”

         “Ya’ll never did say why ya didn’t jest fly there. I ‘preciate the ticket outta Dullsville an’ all.  Glad to escape, fer true. But it seemed ta me and pa like ya was kinder tetched in da hade to wahk there ‘steada jest flyin’ in that fancy machine a yers.”

         Arlo murmured, “She and her male parent think you’re crazy.”

         Jase subvocalized, Stop it, and answered, “We lost four drones trying to recon the base.  I’ve only got one shuttle, and I can’t risk it.”

         She raised an eyebrow.  “Bless yer cotton-pickin’ lil haht. Sometimes ya tahk in flahpdoodle and not good ol’ plain Texan.”

         Maybe more detail would help her comprehension.  “The base has automated defenses against airborne assault. The AI is still functional after five centuries. That’s why we have to walk in and walk out.”

         From the roll of her eyes, the additional details didn’t have the desired result. “Moh cow puckie.” She shrugged. “It’s yer fune-ral. Ya rahdy to staht back up?”

         Arlo translated, “She thinks your answer is bullshit, and wants to know if you’re ready to start walking again.”

         Jase subvocalized, I said stop it, and then answered Amanda, “I’m ready.  Lead on.”  He let her lead him into the arroyo. He loved Arlo, but he had to admit it was nice to have a human companion for a change, even one who barely spoke English and looked like she’d crawled out of a cartoon.  A smile bent his lips as he followed her into the shadows.  She did have a nice butt.

         

         Three hours later, Jase followed Manda Sue up a steep slope to a ridgeline.  The other side opened into a high valley surrounded by craggy peaks.  The ruins of Kaban Base looked pretty much the same as images he’d taken from orbit: a couple dozen blocky one-story buildings forming three sides of a courtyard, with a larger, three-story structure serving as the fourth side.  A scattering of scrubby trees and tangled brushwood completed the picture of a long-abandoned ruin.  The two silvery moons hid behind low-scutting clouds, leaving only the red moon to give the whole landscape a ruddy hue.

         He pulled his nox from his fanny pack and peered at the enhanced image.  The buildings looked like they could have been made from concrete blocks, but that was impossible—Arlo said Calydon’s geology  wasn't up to producing limestone.  The ancients were clever about using native materials, though, so they must have found something.  The roofs on most of the buildings had collapsed over the years, but the larger, three-story structure must have been built from sturdier stuff since it appeared to be still be intact.

         Manda Sue said, “What’s that thar thing yer lookin’ through? Don’t look like normal binox.”

         “They’re AI enhanced.”  At her blank look, he added, “They magnify and give a sharper image than optical binoculars. They’re computer enhanced."

         “Cow puckie.  Ain’t no such thing as com-pute-ahs. Them’s jest tall tales elderfolk tell ta impress lil ones, or them what got feeble minds.  Jest like there ain’t no such thing as magic, nor miracles.”

         He handed them to her.  “Look for yourself.”

         He expression looked like he was offering her lemons to squeeze against her eyes, but she accepted them and held them a centimeter or so in front of face.  Her eyebrows crawled up, and she pressed them closer.  “Son of gun, ya ain’t shittin’ me. How’d they do that?”

         “I told you.  Computers.”

         She fingered the zoom on the nox and continued to scan the base. “Ah feared this.  There’s hogs dahn theah.”

         “Hogs? You mean pigs?” Oh, right.  She’d mentioned hunting them with her grandparent. “What are pigs doing up here in the mountains?”

         “Ya got me theah, pahdnuh.  But like Ah toldja, that’s what done brought grandpappy up here, huntin’ hogs. We’d shoot ahselves a couple and butchah ‘em right hyah.  Ah still ‘membah Granny Great fixin’ us hog bellah.  It tastes like mannah from heaven.”

         Arlo whispered, “Kaban is Old Russian for boar. I therefore speculate that Kaban Base must have been established by Slavic troops serving in the old Grand Alliance.  If there really are suidae here, the most probable source would be descent from Earth species brought in to support ethnic cuisine.”

         Hog belly.  Jase let a smile bend his lips. “We call it bacon. Yeah, it tastes good.”

         She handed his nox back to him.  “So, we's goin’ inta that place?” She nodded to the base below them.

         “Yeah.  The package, the thing I’m here to get, has to be in one of those buildings.”

         She pulled out her “six-shooter” and spun its cylinder. “Good thing Ah got plenty a ammo.”

         “Why is that?”

         “Them pigs, they’s nasty crittahs.  They kilt mah great uncah on mah mammy’s side, Uncah Rebus.  That’s why we stopped comin’ hyah.”

         “You might have mentioned that.”

         “Ya didn’t ask.” She holstered her weapon and narrowed her eyes.  “Ya goin’ down there, oh is ya yellah?”

         Arlo murmured, “Jason, I strongly advise against that course of action.  She’s right. Encounters with wild boars can be lethal. The risk of bodily harm is too high.”

         Jase subvocalized No choice. You know that.

         “What I know for certain is that your survival is the most important consideration. I’m worried for you.”

         You should be worried for yourself. If we don’t pay off our debts, you’ll be scrap metal.

         “I don’t matter.  Please don’t go.”

         Shut up.  He faced Manda Sue. “Yes, I’m going down there.  If it’s dangerous, you should stay here. I paid you to be a guide, not to risk your life.”

         “Whatch yer talkin’ ‘bout?  Killin’ me some hogs sounds lahk moh fun than Ah’ve had in yars. Ah should pay ya’ll for that, nor t’othah way ‘round.”

         He was liking her more all the  time.  He pulled off his backpack and recovered his service pistol.  When he checked the clip, he counted a full twenty rounds. That should be sufficient for any pig.  “How hard are these things to take down?”

         “’Pends.  How good a shot are ya?”

         He’d taken down a flying snail worm on Rybnicia at eighty meters.  With a single shot.  “Good enough.”

         She looked skeptical, but said, “Go fer hade shots.  Body shots don’t slow ‘em down none.”

         He used his nox to rescan the base.  “Are you sure about the pigs? I don’t see anything down there but ruins.”

         “They’s there. Look fer tracks.”

         He twisted up the magnification. Sure enough, what could be animal tracks led up to the main building.  “Paw prints, right?”

         She nodded, and her braids gave an endearing little bounce. “Thaht’s raht.”

         “Gimme a sec.”  He asked Arlo, Review the tactical situation again. Remind me where the package is likely to be.

         “The general schematics for similar Grand Alliance bases suggest that the three-story building has a vault in a middle room on the first floor, behind a lobby. Probability that it’s there, in the vault, is fifty-eight percent. But there’s a thirty-two percent chance the package is in a lab on the second floor. There’s an eight percent chance it’s elsewhere in the main building. There’s a two percent that it’s in one of the out buildings.”

         So we’ll try the vault first. Will our standard Semtex charges breach it without damaging the package or its contents?

         “The package is a ballistic-grade steel alloy container, so, yes. The Semtex won’t even dent the container, much less damage anything inside. The ancients specifically designed it to protect whatever it contains. Ninety-eight percent probability of success.” 

         Arlo must be truly nervous to be telling him things he already knew.  Got it.  Don’t bother me during the operation.

         “I emphasize again, I’m worried for you—”

         Stuff it. Arlo shut up, and Jase jammed four Semtex packets into his cargo pants.

         Manda Sue gave him a quizzical look. “Was ya tahlkin’ to yer gods?”

         “No.  I have a comm link with Arlo, I mean, my ship.  I was consulting with him. It.”

         Her mouth twisted. “Moh flahpdoodle. Jest so yer not prayin’ to crazy gods nor nothin’. That was what got great Uncah Rebus kilt. Wouldn’t fahllah ya if ya was some crazy preachah or somethin’.”

         “I’m not.  Are you ready?”

         “For y’all, Ah’m alwahs redah, pahdnah.”

         Somehow, he believed that. Even took comfort in it.  Side by side, they headed down the slope and into the base.

         Jase wrinkled his nose. The air reeked again, but this time was different. Now it was like the most raunchy outhouse he’d ever smelled. Or imagined. “What the fuck stinks?”

         “Ah’m not a lady nor nothin’, but don’t tahk like that when mah pappy’s ‘round.  He’ll fetch ya a whup up da side a yer hade.”

         “You didn’t answer my question.”

         “It’s them hogs. They stink to hah heaven. Ah’ve  even seen ‘em eatin’ they’s own shit.”

         Well, that was a disgusting image. She must be exaggerating, trying to gross him out.  “I’ve smelled worse.  We’re headed for the main building.”  He pointed at the three-story structure. Close up, it looked even more like they’d used concrete blocks to build it.

         “Them thar hog tracks, they lead straht to da doors.”  She pulled out her six-shooter.  “Best be pruh-pad.”

         The doors to the building stood partially askew. To last for five centuries, they must be plastic casements, like modern buildings.  When he pushed them aside, they resisted, then creaked open. Light streaming through the doorway provided dim illumination for the lobby.  Sand and other grit drifted across the tiled flooring.  Paw prints embedded in what look liked dried-up diarrhea led to an open doorway at the rear.

         The stench was even worse here.  He glanced at Manda Sue, who held her gun at the ready and whose eyes scanned the interior like radar.  “Did it always smell like this?  When you were here before?”

         “Don’t ‘membah it bein’ this bad, but ‘twas long tahm ago.”  She gestured with the barrel of her six-shooter.  “Them tracks lead to that the-ah back room.  Is that wheah we’ah be headin’?”

         “Yeah.  There should be a vault in there.”

         “Well, let’s git to it, then.”  She set off and he followed.

         She stopped as soon as she entered the next room and he bumped into her.  She stiff-armed him  and whispered, “Hush now. She’s got herself babies ta protect. Don’t ya go threatenin’ her none.”

         Jase pushed his way to her side and stopped.  On the far side of the room, a pig-like creature sprawled in a beam of ruby-tinted moonlight, laying on its side, obscenely fat and impossibly muscled.  He looked closer, and corrected himself.  She sprawled on her side, since a dozen or more tiny piglets suckled at her.

         But she was like no pig Jase had ever seen. Not that he’d seen that many pigs, but he’d certainly seen pictures.  This one didn’t look much like the farm animals he remembered. She had spiky black fur, almost like spines, and tusks that were yellow monstrosities, seven or eight centimeters long. They jutted up from her lower jaw and pressed against her lips. She regarded him with beady eyes that glowed red in the light from the scarlet moon.

         Manda Sue whispered, “Ya sure this is whyah we gotta look?”

         “Fifty-eight percent sure.”  He debated whether to pull out his service revolver or a Semtex packet.  He settled on the revolver.

         Behind Momma Hog, the shadows half-hid a man-sized black door with an embedded combination lock.  That had to be the vault Arlo had mentioned.  “See that door?” He pointed.  “I’ve got to blast it open.”

         “Then we gotta kill her.  She’ll rip ya ta shreds if ya take anothah step.” She brandished her six-shooter.  The barrel gleamed blood-red in the moonlight.

         He hesitated. Momma Hog was a monster, but she was a mother, too. “Those little babies are cute.  They’ll die without their mother.”

         “If they grow up, they’ll be monstahs, jest like they’s momma. If ya want this thang ya been aftah, ya gotta get ‘round her.  How ya gonna do that ‘ceptin’ by killin’ her? It’s the way of the world. Livin’ and killin’, they go togethah.”

         Arlo whispered, “She’s right.  Back off. It’s not worth it.”  He must be watching and listening through Jase’s implants. Jase subvocalized, I can’t just kill her.

         He holstered his pistol and pulled out a Semtex packet. “I can’t murder her in cold blood, not when she’s just protecting her babies.  Maybe I can creep up on her.”

         Before Manda Sue or Arlo could object, he took a step forward.

         Momma Hog snorted like thunder. Quick as lightning, she rolled to her feet. Three of her babies squealed and then burst into bloody splotches on the floor where she’d crushed them. In what seemed like a nanosecond, she barreled into him and knocked him over.  The Semtex packet rattled across the filth-covered floor, out of reach.

         Her tusks, enormous and yellow loomed over his throat.

         Her breath, hot and stinking of excrement, bathed his face.

         He tried to reach for his service pistol, but his arm was jammed under his body and wouldn’t move.

         Her eyes, beady and red, bore into him with the relentless certainty of death. His death. 

         Then, without warning, her head exploded. Brains and blood rained down on his face and slithered off him.  Her body, suddenly dead and lifeless, slammed onto him, knocking the breath from his lungs.  The world turned black.

         From deep in the darkness, a voice murmured soundless words. He knew that voice, but those faint, formless words--they were impossible.  Arlo was machine. Just a machine. He couldn't be saying, "I love you."

         Light glimmered and, from nearby, the sound of someone sobbing throbbed.  He woke to Manda Sue cradling his head in her arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth.  What was she crying about?

         He tried to inhale, but his chest wasn’t working. 

         Panic welled up, and he managed to gulp a breath of air, then another.  The coppery scent of blood and guts mixed the fetid stench of excrement.  He gagged, but breathing in and out—that was sweet beyond imagination.

         Arlo asked, “Jason. Are you all right?”  He sounded panicked, but that was impossible. He was just a machine, after all. I’m okay. Manda Sue killed it.

         “She’s smarter than you. Quicker, too. Good thing she was there.” The relief Jase thought he heard in those words had to be his imagination.

         Manda Sue must have pulled Momma Hog off of him, because he could move his arm now.  Breathing was getting easier, too, even though the stink was worse with each breath. He reached up and stroked her cheek.  “Thank you.”  His voice came out raspy and broken.  He didn’t care.  It was a miracle to still have a voice.

         “Jase! Yer alive!”  She stopped her wailing and wiped tears from her cheeks, leaving bloody streaks.  Her face split into a toothy smile. 

         How could he have ever thought those buck teeth looked anything other than perfect?

         Her voice turned soft and mellow while her fingers ran through his hair. “Ah was so afeared ah waren’t fast ‘nuff.”

         “You did great.  Saved my life.”  He struggled to a sitting position and tried to ignore the squealing piglets.  “Where’s my Semtex?”

         It took less than three minutes to blast the vault open.  A featureless, golden metal cube twenty centimeters in each dimension rested inside. It had to be the package.  Jase hefted it and frowned. The blasted thing was heavy, at least twenty kilos.  Now that he looked closer, someone had engraved weird letters on one side. He focused on them for the few seconds it would take Arlo to read them. Опасность. Биологическая опасность.

         Arlo translated at once, “That's Old Russian. Danger. Biohazard. I conclude the package contains a bioweapon. The touchpad to open it should be hidden underneath the label. I strongly recommend against using it.”

         Crap.  A bioweapon?  He couldn't turn that over a bunch of fucking gangsters.  Are you sure it's a weapon? Fucking chaos in hell.

         "Over ninety-nine percent probability.  Why do you ask?"

         We can't give Black Hand a fucking bioweapon. Those gangsters would use it to blackmail entire planets.

         Genocide wouldn't make those bloodsuckers even blink. Fuck, they'd probably enjoy it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  This was a disaster. It was tempting to just leave it here, but they'd send someone else to get it. No matter how badly he needed money, he couldn't let Black Hand have it.  Maybe we can sell it to the Navy.

         Arlo answered at once. "Black Hand wouldn't like that.  There's over a ninety-nine percent probability they'd put out a contract on you. In fact, there's now a ninety-five percent they'll put a contract on you no matter what you do. I warned you about signing with them."

         Shut up about that. We'll have to get our money some other way.  We have to get it some other way. Any other way.

         "You're the boss.  In any case, I foresee more risky ventures in our future."

         We'll figure it out. We always do. For now, be quiet and let me think.

         Manda Sue eyed him.  “What's wrong? 'Tain't that da pah-age y'all was lookin' fer?”

         Jase heaved a deep breath, but the stench ruined any calming effect it might have had. Still, she deserved an answer.  "It is.  But we just figured out what it contains.  We're surprised, is all. It's nothing for you to worry about."

         “Looks like all hat and no cattle, if ya ask me.”

         Whatever that meant.  Time to focus on the current tactical situation.  “It's important, despite how it looks. You’ll have to take my word for it.  What's inside is, well, it's not what we expected.  For now, we just need to get you back to your pa's ranch, safe and sound.”

         She bit her lower lip. “That flahpdoodle mean ya’ll be leavin’ me?”

         “I’m afraid so.  As soon as we get out the mountains and away from the base's defenses, Arlo can send the shuttle to pick us up.  You'll be safe, and your life can return to normal.”

         “So, Ah’ll nevah see ya again?” The tremble in her voice revealed her dismay.

         Arlo's voice murmured, “I remind you that the probability of success on this mission rose from twenty-four percent to over eighty percent by having her as part of the team.”

         Chaos, would he never fucking shut up?  What's that got to with anything?

         "If we don't turn the package over to Black Hand, more high-risk ventures like this one are certain.  The conclusion is obvious."

         Imagine for just one instant that I don't have an odds-calculating, AI-powered brain.  What exactly is so fucking obvious?

         “I’m suggesting that adding the right member to our team increases the overall odds of survival on high-risk missions by as much as four-fold. There is a high probability we will have need for such a member in the immediate future.”

         It was like a light coming on.  You think Manda Sue's the right kind of new team member? That we should invite her to join us?

         “My calculations support that conclusion.”

         Mine, too.

         Outside, the clouds parted to reveal the two silvery moons, one huge and full and the other a tiny crescent. The unified, now harmonious, glow of the three moons enveloped Jase and Manda Sue in a shimmering halo.  The future still looked bleak and filled with danger, but it suddenly looked brighter, too.

         Jase grinned at Manda Sue.  “I have a proposal for you.”