John Karr - Detonation Event

“Orbiters have good air, so they’ll be okay, right?” Her eyelids closed, and she curled as best she could into the large chair.

“Not on the outside, they don’t.”

He put the shuttle back on autopilot, got up and pulled a blanket and a pillow from a side cabinet. Gently raising her head, he felt the abnormal heat of a fever. She was fighting something more than personal tragedy. Karen Wagner would have a test for it, but there was no cure.

On the holo, MOS-2 grew in size, while MOS-1 moved away.

The chase was on.

Devans wasn’t feeling great, either. He tore open another pack of painkillers from the box he’d found in the supply cabinet. He took the first and a few gulps from another energy drink. He started to take the second pill, then folded it back in the package. He’d leave it for Scarlet. He should probably wake her and give it to her, but this was the first escape she’d had from a soul-crushing experience.

Devans surmised their illnesses might soon have little bearing on their lives.

He tried communications again with both orbiters and again was met with silence. With all the technology, it had to be some purposeful jamming, something he didn’t know the orbiters had the capability of doing.

He stared out at the stars as the shuttle hurtled through space.

Warning chimes woke him from an unintended doze.

Two things. One, MOS-2 was so close now it was firing two engines to reverse momentum. Two, it had unleashed drones.

Dozens of tiny lines burst forth into the forward regional radar, belching forth from MOS-2 like angry hornets from a nest. Not big enough for planetary shuttles, these were mining and structural repair drones. They would have close-proximity spatz tools that could be used as weapons. Earth Shuttle 219 had none of these, nor an adequate defense against them.

He had about fifty minutes to figure out next moves.

Another notification chime sounded. A new blip also appeared on the rearward radar. Another Earth shuttle was following their flight path, bypassing Lunar One.

A hail tone came over the speakers, coinciding with an alert of another spacecraft in the region. Devans linked but did not say anything. The crew of the other spacecraft would know the link was now active.

Mocking laughter. “That you, Ry, old buddy?”

It took Devans a moment to get over the surprise before he flipped a switch and addressed the disembodied voice. “Haven’t seen him. Turn your bird around and try Earth. Or Mars. Heard he has a thing for the red planet.”

More mocking laughter poured through the speakers, mixed with exclamations of faux amazement. The voice beneath the derision was strong and self-assured, attributes that once made Lassiter Nuro popular on MOS-1. And here he’d been incarcerated just days earlier, before the EFF revolution swept the world in a red tide.

“Maybe you’re not him. The Devans I knew never sounded so weak.”

“See prior reply, terrorist.”

“Hmm. Well now, wait a minute… that’s more like him! Are you sure you’re not the ex-military and space pilot, with well over a hundred Mars landings? The guy who almost got killed on Mars when his employers pulled Detonation Event on us?”

“He does sound like a superior individual,” Devans parried. “Wasn’t there a terrorist puke disguised as a friend who murdered a true friend and several other innocent individuals at Lunar One?”

“Innocents die in war. The identity chip reader says Ry Devans is in the pilot seat of the shuttle ahead of us, but maybe somebody’s just flying around with his head?”

Supposedly only the government could scan personal identity chips of cabin passengers. You could elect to have the spaceflight company read your chip to prove your identity, but they were not supposed to discern identities without a warrant. But the flight deck was different. As soon as one entered the elevator or stairs for the flight deck, the encryption of the chip was decoded and you were a known individual.

“Head and body assembly intact,” Devans replied. “Unlike victims of the EFF.”

“Harsh measures are necessary to alter human direction.”

Devans whistled and squinted at the radar. MOS-2 was the great sphere ahead, and Nuro’s shuttle was rapidly exiting moon space. He and Scarlet were between the two, and while he conversed with a man he’d like to kill, he scoured for a best course of action. “Is that the new EFF throwaway line? One galactic rationalization, convict.”

“I’ve been pardoned,” Nuro said.

“Of course you have.”

“Schiflet, too, in case you hear from Karen Wagner. He’s a hero to the EFF. Head of the NIH. Singlehandedly removed the human boot from Earth’s neck.”

“All you need to do now is turn around and help infest your new home planet.”

“Ry, have the little girl say something so we know she’s okay.”

Scarlet’s brow furrowed in an uneasy slumber in the copilot’s seat. “Negative. EFF scum killed her family, and she’s ill and asleep. So you can take your bullcrap concern and leave now.”

“Didn’t take you for a kidnapping pedophile, but you never know. As for us, we’ve only just now punched into space. Would hate to turn around already!”

“You Earth First Dirtbags don’t like it up here anyway, remember?”

“Hey, hey! Easy on the foul language, old man. This is a family-friendly show. We’re broadcasting galaxy wide, audio and visual. But to your point, space activity is now outlawed, except as sanctioned by the government for surveillance and communication satellites.”

Devans grunted. “The asteroids will be happy about that when they head toward Earth.”

“Who needs an asteroid when we’ve got MS274S34? The population is rapidly becoming more manageable, thanks to our one-time employer, SCONA.”

Devans stiffened. “The warp on your thinking is truly astounding. I’m sure the EFF is working hard to help find a cure.”

“We’re searching.”

“Just not that hard, eh? ”

Nuro’s turn for a pause. “So what’s your plan, Ry?”

“Dunno. Maybe celebrate Let a Terrorist Fly Day.”

Nuro laughed. “Why don’t you meet us at MOS-2? It’ll be in your area soon. You pick the port.”

So MOS-2 was under EFF control; otherwise Nuro would not have suggested it. Devans wondered about the condition of some of his pilot friends there. “Well, since you asked so nicely… I don’t think so.”

“The drones will be on you within the hour,” Nuro said.

“I can outrun them.”

“Where will you go?”

“Dunno. Lots of room to stretch out here.”

They both knew the only safe harbor was MOS-1. Unfortunately, Devans was too close to MOS-2 and the skeletal remains of the never-to-be-finished MOS-3. He could maybe make a sprint for it, but they’d be on his propellant tail.

“I’ll tell MOS-2 not to destroy the shuttle, at least not right away,” Nuro informed him. “All the space excess is coming to an end, my friend. It’s going to be all Earth, all the time.”

“How medieval of you,” Devans said.

“Just to elaborate, we EFF took out the Cyclops spatz on MOS-1. That’s why they’re running from MOS-2, where the Cyclops spatz is alive and well.”

Devans’ heart sank. If true, it was only a matter of time before MOS-1 was destroyed. No shield was strong enough to thwart the powerful space atomizer.

“What, no reply? Maybe you were gonna make a run for it after all. Time for you to let your hostage go, Ry Devans. Navigate to MOS-2 and surrender.”

“Hey, Nuro?”

“Let’s meet on MOS-2, Ry. I’m sure you’ll come around to the EFF way.”

“How about you come around to shut the hell up.” Devans jabbed a finger and cut the comm link. In the silence that ensued, he rubbed his temples and swore. Then he chided himself and forced himself to think.