John Karr - Detonation Event

“Yes!” Wagner said, her eyes flashing.

“Val, can you control the life pods?” Shakuri said, his hands gripped into fists.

“Wait—yes! They’re not locked down. I just set off the red alert and auto message to get the passengers in ’em!”

“Director Armandy,” Shakuri said.

“Yes, yes, I’m here… we’re here!” Her voice trembled, almost drowned out against the shouts from the hold around her. “We are loading the pods now!”

Shakuri’s voice was measured. “This is your chance at survival, and redemption. You and your reports must make certain all slots and the floor space are filled before launching! Proceed to them and launch as soon as they are filled.”

“I—okay, yes. Yes, you’re right. No pod goes out until filled!”

“You’re too deep in Earth’s atmosphere! I’m sorry. We have missiles away,” Onslow said. “Three minutes to impact.”

Small oblong shapes burst randomly from the shuttle image, trailing thin streams as the rocket boosters propelled them away from Earth.

The security team contacted the operations director and drones were sent, visible high on the holo, leaving Lunar One as a swarm. Five passenger shuttles that had left Earth for the moon were recalled. Lunar ships scheduled for takeoff were grounded. Cargo drones were allowed to continue from Earth, but were navigated away from the vector space between Lunar One and ES-140 as it maintained course for Earth. Voices of the security team quieted. Commands from Armandy and her team played on audio. Shouts from other passengers could be heard, along with some screams. Eruptions of both, along with cross-conversation, tightened the air of the lab common area even more.

“Deputy Director Armandy,” Shakuri said.

She did not reply, though her voice could be heard distantly above the other voices and movements.

“Wait—fill the other slots first! Here’s two more… no, don’t go! Open the door! Open the damned door!”

Gazes centered on the three jets closing in on ES-140 ’s projected position.

Schiflet fidgeted in ire as his plan to rid himself of Armandy unraveled. His mind raced with possibilities.

A needle of light sped from the image of one of the jets. It darted toward its target while the jets veered off.

“Two minutes!”

More life pods rocketed away from the shuttle and Earth’s atmosphere.

A sudden burst of cross-chatter.

“Fill the pod, fill the pod!”

“Get out of the way!”

“Release pod five!”

“Release ten!”

“Release six! Hurry!”

“Wait! They’re not filled!” Armandy’s voice. “Lunar and Ground—oh, god, those last two pods were not full!”

“One minute!”

“We’ve still got people in the shuttle. Go, go, go!”

“Come on!” someone begged.

“No room! Go! Launch pod ten. Do you hear me, launch pod ten!”

“Ten… who’s left?” Shakuri said.

A distressed reply, unrecognizable.

The command center people on Lunar One paused to listen.

Shakuri pressed. “We’re seeing one more. Who is still onboard the shuttle?”

Silence from the shuttle, then a lone voice.

“Just me,” Armandy said, in resignation. “You won the battle, Schiflet. But you’ll lose the war, bastard.”

Shakuri and the others looked his way.

“Not true. It’s not true.” Schiflet feigned disbelief and horror.

“Why would she lie with her last breath, Paton?” Karen Wagner said, skewering him with an icy glare.

“Why would I, Paton?” Armandy’s voice was bitter and resigned. “Congratulations. You’re already a saboteur. Soon you’ll also be a murderer.”

The thin images of the missiles raced toward the exposed belly of the shuttle. A burst of holographic dots burst forth in all directions at once, then faded to black.

The command center and all linked personnel fell silent. Finally General Onslow cleared his throat. When he spoke, he sounded like he’d been punched in the gut. “Hell of a thing, taking out a civilian aboard a peaceful spacecraft.”

“You must fire upon the pods,” Schiflet said, before he could catch himself.

“Who is that?” Onslow replied. “Shakuri, what the hell? Is that legit?”

“Ignore Dr. Schiflet of the NIH, General,” Shakuri said, tilting his head and leveling his gaze at Schiflet. “His role in this is under investigation.”

“Those in the pods could have been exposed to the virus,” Schiflet pressed.

“We have a valid solution to the problem, Doctor. If you persist, I’ll remove you personally.”

“My superiors have also inquired about the pod risk,” Onslow said. “What’s the status?”

“Eight have broken free of Earth’s atmosphere and are moving through space.” Shakuri’s hand revolved over and over, as if trying to speed things up. “The other two are imminent.”

“Not in Earth air?”

“No, sir. My team is manning the comm links… telling them we are sending interceptor drones to bring them back to Lunar One for quarantine and examination.”

The noise level rose as conversations with unseen recipients took place.

Schiflet fumed in silence. Plan A had nearly worked and now was doomed.

Damn life pods.

Schiflet’s mind raced as he realized his vulnerability. He excused himself for a bio break.

Shakuri paused long enough in his give-and-take in various conversations to point to one of his guards and then to Schiflet.

“In sight at all times,” he ordered.

“Got it,” the guard replied.

Schiflet felt strange as he walked to the bathroom. But whether from the events or the microbe or a combination of both was unclear. The analyst went inside the bathroom with him this time, stayed near the door. He appeared ready for anything, including a physical altercation. Schiflet was glad he’d ingested the microbe earlier, before it appeared necessary. Options, options!

He stood at the urinal. The color of his urine was still clear. Perhaps the Martian microbe would have no effect on him. Or perhaps it would kill him.

Would the microbe benefit or harm life on Earth?

Either way, the time for endings and new beginnings had arrived.

Time for impact .

Which made him smile and almost laugh.

Lunar drones latched onto the life pods from ES-140 . The chem rockets went silent but their momentum had been enough for the pods to escape Earth’s atmosphere into space. On their own, however, they would still be doomed by the gravitational pull of the Earth, but the drones locked onto the shuttles, operating as proxy propulsion and navigation. The news traveled throughout the lunar bases and into space to reach MOS-2. The news was received on MOS-1 but hardly registered with its operations people, who were busy dealing with their own shuttle emergency on the Martian surface.

Schiflet watched Shakuri work, gathered data on his latest adversary.

While slowly pacing back and forth around the perimeter of the lab command center, Shakuri handed quarantine operations to his next in command, Dr. Karen Wagner of NIH, and SCONA’s bio team. He kept half of his security team in the lab offices to examine video footage. He had his analysts question the lab support staff on video, then let them go about their business. He questioned Schiflet and Karen Wagner himself, and “requested” they remain for the video review.

Shakuri addressed his analysts. “Project the hallway outside Armandy’s room, at twenty minutes before the drone arrived to take the package to the shuttle bay.”

The hologram revealed the sporadic comings and goings of personnel.

Schiflet stiffened. How did SCONA get recordings of NIH lodging, which was supposedly restricted to government hands only?