Five Moons of Pluto (2 page)

Orin p
ushes her hand away. “I found something worth dying for.”

Vina
smiles. “And you shall die.” She raises her palm in the air, dismissing him. “Off you go.”

He
walks away from her silently, heated but not at all fazed by her threat, because he knows Vina always keeps her word.

****

              Orin stops his cruiser at a security checkpoint two miles south of Gate Tower Alpha, and four heavily armed guards approach him. Orin looks closely at one of their weapons, a standard issue A-47 Assault Laser Rifle.
Good on ammo and recoil
, he thinks.
But horrible on accuracy
.

             
He holds the palm of his hand out of the window, for the guard to inspect it. His palm is scanned using a bio detector; when the green light on the handheld machine goes off, the guards step aside, making way for the cruiser to pass.

             
“Wait!” one of them shouts and runs up to catch him. “What’s in the package?”

Orin looks at the package sitting in the passenger seat. If
Vina is smart, which she most certainly is, she’s had someone place a scrambler chip inside the package.

Orin smiles up at the guard. “Oh, this? I
t’s a gift from my wife.”

“Y
ou know that packages are only authorized to go in and out through the proper channels. I have to search the contents of the package, sir.”

Orin looks at his watch
, then back up to the guard. “I’m really late. Can you forget this just one time?”

The guard holds out his hand, and Orin notices his
Polythanian guard glove.
Must be hard to pull a trigger with those.

“Hand me the package
, please...
sir
.”

Ori
n hands the guard the package. One soldier stands guard, watching Orin, while the other scans the package. A green light on the guard’s scanner goes off, signaling that the package is clear and safe. The guard hands it back to Orin, and Orin proceeds ahead.

“Great,” he
mumbles irritably under his breath, but loudly enough for the guards to hear. “Now I’m definitely late.” Without looking back, he hits the accelerator.

****

              Large windows surround the central control room for Alpha Gate, giving Orin a clear view of the Olympus gate as he steps out of the elevator and into the room. The sky is filled with transport—military and commercial ships coming and going through the gate. A control terminal sits in the center of the room. Its triangular shape allows only three people to sit and operate it at a time.

             
Thaddeus and Walter are already sitting at their terminal spots, typing away, when Orin sees them. Thaddeus, slim and frail, nods at Orin. Walter, a younger, medium-build man with dreadlocks, also acknowledges Orin, but only by looking at him and smiling slightly. Orin waves to both men as he sits down at his own desk in the terminal, several feet away from them. He places the package underneath his chair, then looks up at his three monitors and begins typing.

             
The two men watch Orin and turn to look at each other briefly before they continue working. Walter says to Orin, without turning toward him again, “I know this may not be a good

time, but we need to discuss what we are going to tell the commander. He’s going to want an answer.”

              Orin stops typing. “The ship had proper identification and passcodes, and passcodes can only be imbedded into the brain with a Transmaphyer. As far as I’m concerned, it is no longer our problem.”
              Walter turns sharply to Orin. “We authorized the ship through. We are the first line of defense if a threat comes through.” He shakes his head, then continues. “We should have sent a patrol unit to check the ship.”

             
Orin returns to his typing. “You're worrying over nothing, Walt. I told you I’d take care of it.”

Thaddeus, quiet until now, stands up. His eyes land hard on Orin. “I’m appalled and downright abhorred by you, Orin! For you to sit there and keep all your secrets to yourself and not consult us to ruminate your plan… We are the gatekeepers! We are responsible for this mess. And all the while, you’re acting like…like…a
human
.”

Orin stands and looks back at Thaddeus with equally hateful eyes. He’s just about to speak when a signal sounds off on their computers, breaking the tension between them. A ship is trying to gain entry. Calmly, they sit back down at their stations and proceed with the usual order.

Walter speaks. “Alpha Gate Tower to vessel, please identify passcode, vessel number, and cargo.” There is no answer. Walter turns to Thaddeus. “Comm links down?”

Thaddeus is sliding his fingers across the monitor. “No,” he says. “
Comms are operational. The vessel is not registered on record nor is it allowing me to scan for Unusual Threats to Olympus. I’m going to send a squad to check it out.”              

“Don’t worry about it,” a voice says, too calm a voice to be Orin’s in such a situation, but Walter sees that it is in fact Orin who’s speaking when he turns back to look.

“Sir…” Walter stammers. He doesn’t recognize the look in Orin’s eyes.

Orin draws a weapon and shoots Walter three times in the chest. Thaddeus is too slow to respond—or even react at all—and doesn’t have time to press the alarm. Orin then shoots Thaddeus twice in the ches
t, knocking him to the ground. He steps over Thaddeus and begins swiping on the monitor.

Thaddeus speaks weakly, his voice a raspy, breathless whisper. “Traitor…” he says. “You betrayed us.”

Orin walks over to him and looks at his wounds as they begin to sizzle.

“Who was it?” Thaddeus manages to ask. “Who do you work for?”

Orin looks at him, nearly speechless. “It doesn’t matter.

“
Who
?” Thaddeus demands. He reaches for Orin with a bloody hand.

“Humans,” Orin tells him.

Thaddeus’s eyes widen in shock. “Im…poss…” He does not finish.

             
The central room doors are now locked. Orin looks at the third monitor and sees the warships entering through the gate. Several guards pound on the door outside. “Open up!” they shout.

Orin continues typing and swiping
at the monitor. A military cruiser swoops by the window and shoots at Orin. He dives behind the terminal for cover. A laser blast crashes through the military cruiser. The cruiser smashes down the side of the building and into one of the floors, then explodes. Orin looks to see who or what saved his life. The main door opens and the guards come rushing in. Without a second thought, Orin rushes toward them, dodging their fire. He snaps arms, breaks legs, and uses their own weapons against them.
They never stood a chance
, he thinks.

T
he guards lie on the floor, all of them either unconscious or dead. Orin hears the sound of footsteps running, then more grunts. He picks up a guard’s gun, but it’s DNA encrypted so he can’t use it. Then someone screams. “Get down now!”

Orin doesn’t even search to see where the voice is coming from. He slides by the side of the door and crouches low on the floor. A barrage of bullets tear
s through the grunts and the walls. Then the bullets stop, and a pile of grunts lay on the floor.

Orin stands up to see a Tyrant ship floating outside the window. Inside the cockpit is
a beautiful woman with long blond hair, green eyes, smooth skin.
Vina
. The cockpit shields open.

“We haven’t got all day,
” she says.

Orin grabs his gun
and jumps inside the Tyrant. The cockpit shield closes behind him. Vina grabs hold of the controls and pulls the trigger, unleashing two mini missiles that destroy the terminal and half of the room. Then the Tyrant flies off to its next destination.

****

The Tyrant flies low over 5
th
avenue in Manhattan. Orin looks out the window, then up toward the sky; there are too many ships in the sky to count. Military ships fly toward the oncoming armada, but are easily shot down by Tyrant ships or by the guns of the huge battleship. The Tyrant shakes from the wave of an explosion.

             
“Where are we going?” Orin asks.

“You’re welcom
e.”

Orin smirks. “I didn’t ask
you for your help.”

Vina
jerks the throttle left to go down east 79th street. People are screaming and running down the streets below them.

“You Ph
antoms think you're so tough,” she explains. “You were one of the best—they even called you our savior—but you made a mistake.” Orin looks at her, waiting to hear her full explanation. “You fell in love with a Repla.” 

             
The Tyrant lands on top of what was once the American Museum of Natural History but is now called the Repla Revolutionary War Museum. Two other Tyrant ships and a Javelin are already on the roof beside them. The soldiers stand ready outside.

             
Vina lands smoothly, then steps out with Orin tailing behind her. The soldiers immediately surround Orin and point their guns at him, and Vina gracefully steps aside. Then Grand Commander Thal steps out.

             
His uniform is clean and well pressed. The seven medals on his jacket tell stories of courage and leadership. They prove his honor and his sacrifice. He looks the part, too, with a strong, square face, and a neatly groomed mustache. Looking toward him, everyone except Orin stands at attention.

             
“As you were,” Thal says. He walks up to Orin and salutes him, and then so does everyone else. “To bravery and courage!” he shouts, and everyone else’s shouts echo his. He ends his salute and says more seriously,” You did well… very well. Nothing less is expected from a Phantom.” He places his hand on Orin’s shoulder and removes his hat with the other. “My very best Phantom.”

             
Orin smiles widely, but it dissipates quickly as Thal continues.

             
“I’m sad to say I am disappointed in you. We spent three years on this plan and you turn up ghost on us, on your people. You knew how important this mission was. You had your orders and you disobeyed them. Tell me, where are the bodies of your comrades?”

             
Orin looks at him stoically. “I incinerated them.”

His face stern,
Thal looks back at Orin and says, “You didn’t even give them a proper burial?” He closes his eyes. “Those were your brothers. And you killed them so you could be with that…
woman
? That Repla woman? She’s not even family!”

“She is—“

“She was manufactured in a laboratory in Washington! They nearly exterminated the entire human race!”

Thal
then turns to one of his soldiers and nods his head. Sahra is being escorted onto a Tyrant ship. When she spots Orin, he smiles at her. She is scared but tries hard not to show it. Her fear is there though, and Orin knows it. Thal nods again and is escorted back inside with Orin.

“As promised,” he tells Orin, “I will spare her life.” The Tyrant ship that
Sahra is on begins to take off. “But you know nothing of that word, do you? A man should be bound to his word.”

The ship is now several
hundred feet away. Thal nods to another soldier holding a circular device. Orin looks at him, his eyes filled with obvious intention, but the soldiers quickly rush toward him and hold him down.

“No!” he screams. “You
promised
.”

The
soldier aims the device at the Tyrant. Down below is a Ground Hog patrol vehicle with a mounted missile launcher. The missile launches. Orin screams.

“NO! PLEASE!
YOU
PROMISED
.”

Thal
looks at Orin, untouched by his words. “I said i would spare them; I never said my soldiers would.”

The missile makes contact with the Tyrant and explodes. Debris from the explosion fall
s from the sky like dusty snowflakes. To Orin, time slows down—an unbearable, suffocating stillness. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. Is it even real?
Please…let this be a dream
, he thinks.

“Your weakness is now broken.”
Thal’s words pierce Orin’s heart.

Filled with hate, Orin
manages to break free from the soldiers; they try to stop him but are hopelessly outmatched by his strength and agility. Combined with the adrenaline coursing through him, Orin takes them apart one by one. He moves with speed and strikes with accuracy. He rushes toward Thal, but Vina kicks him square in the face and Orin crashes to the ground. He gets up quickly and begins to throw his most forceful combos. Vina returns his attempts with a smile, effortlessly dodging every blow. She counters one of his oncoming punches with a fierce four-hit combo of her own, knocking him down again. Orin wipes the blood from his mouth, while Vina takes out a piece of cloth and dabs the blood from her shirt.