When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) (2 page)

             
“What
?”
Cameron lifted his eyes, taking in the image
.“
Yeah, they ran that ad a few years back
.
”

             
It had been a modestly successful campaign years before, trying to bandage the wound left by the disastrous Earth Council. Some of the colonies had taken offense to being run by leaders billions of lightyears away. By changing the name of the group, it was supposed to make it all better. Every year, around the anniversary of V-Day, the posters reappeared on walls and windows.

             
George laughed
.“
Do
n’
t people kno
w‘
Terr
a’
is just Latin fo
r‘
Earth
?
’
”
He sat up straighter as the ad changed to an image of a pilot staring gallantly off into deep space, a polished helmet under one arm. The text on the screen read
,‘
Sector Patrol: Ever On Guard
.’
George pulled on Camero
n’
s arm
.“
Hey, they put up the new slogan
.
”

             
“This is better than before
?
”

             
George sighed
.“
Anything is better tha
n‘
We Protect the Systems
.’
Maybe this will help with recruiting
.
”

             
“A pay increase would help with recruiting, George
.”
Cameron bit at a hangnail, spitting the small sliver to the side.

             
George shrugged
.“
At least the
y’
re using a real person this time. That old drawing was just disturbing
.
”

             
Cameron smirked but did
n’
t respond. He leaned his head against the cold window, watching the scenery fly by. Towering helium refineries dotted the landscape, processing the raw element and sealing it in enormous tanks for transport to Earth and the colonies. Powerful turbines spewed green and gold flames into the paper-thin atmosphere every time a pinch of moon dust trickled in. Beyond the refineries, stretching to the far side of the pockmarked plains, sat Fort Yonkers, the Lunar military base. Thousands of barracks and hangars dotted the 300-kilometer square post. Though often used as a refit and repair station for Fleet, the base had been taken over by Sector Patrol, the Federat
e’
s reserve element. Along with the always present Terra Node, Yonkers supported the bulk of the local security forces.

             
Cameron grabbed George by the shoulder
.“
Look, sh
e’
s still there
.
”

             
The pilots could
n’
t help but gawk at the unusual sight parked in the center of the outpost. At the refit station, in its final stage of repair, sat the flagship of the Terran Fleet, the TFC
Midway
. At nearly a mile in length, and weighing over 15 million tons, it was the pride of the Terran Colonial Federate. Cameron had recognized it instantly, of course; h
e’
d been aboard once or twice as a cadet, and h
e’
d watched the videos of Eart
h’
s Fleet vs the Martian Skyguard a million times as a kid.

             
The pilo
t’
s eyes traced over each subtle curve and angle of the quintuple-plated armor. H
e’
d read enough military texts to know it was considered impregnable by any modern munition. The forward sensor array swept down and under the twin hangar arms. Each limb carried a full complement of fighters and bombers. Like most carriers,
Midway
was much wider than tall. At the peak of the dorsal ridge that spanned the length of the hull she was barely twelve stories. From hangar to hangar it was ten times that. Even docked, its powerful presence left a deep impression on the people of Luna. As a friendly ship, it projected a sense of stability and safety. Over enemy space it exuded dominance. Sitting on the ground, Cameron mused, it looked more like a beached whale.

             
Moments later the train began to slow as they approached the Yonke
r’
s station. The pilots saw the base shuttle rolling up to the platform and connect to the dome via a sealed tunnel. George made a face.

             
“I gotta say, this commute is gonna kill me
.
”

             
Cameron smiled
.“
Yo
u’
re the one who
had
to get the off-post housing
.
”

             
“Yo
u’
d rather live in the barracks
?”
George asked incredulously.

             
“Would that be so bad
?
”

             
Georg
e’
s eyes were as wide as dinner plates
.“
I
t’
s a dry base, Cam. As in no alcohol
.
”

             
“Where do you think w
e’
re going now
?
”

             
George scoffed
.“
Office
r’
s call is once a quarter. I ca
n’
t survive off of that
!
”

             
Cameron held up his hands
.“
Fine. Forget I mentioned it
.”
He stood, pulling the overhead cord to signal for a stop. As the train eased on the brakes, Cameron walked to the doors and leaned on the railing. George fell into step as they exited the cab and walked across the small station to the waiting shuttle. Cameron held up a hand casually, smirking.

             
“What did you forget
?
”

             
George looked at his friend quizzically, then wiped a hand across his hair and grasped at air. His eyes went wide
.“
Shit on a brick
.”
He turned just in time to see the train pull away and shoot off into the gray plains
.“
Damn, that was my last hat
.
”

             
Cameron laughed so hard tears formed. He leaned against the wall, catching his breath
.“
I swear, George,
I’
ve never seen anyone go through a uniform as fast as you
.
”

             
The short pilot fumed
.“I’
m so glad I entertain you. What am I supposed to do? Clothing and Sales has been closed for hours
.
”

             
Cameron wheeled around, producing the folded cap with a flourish and a bow
.“
Next time
I’
m leaving it on your seat
.
”

             
Georg
e’
s face brightened as he snatched the hat and placed it slightly askew on his head. He made a show of wiping down his suit and putting his nose in the air
.“
Well, it would seem I shall be buying the first round
.
”

             
“I
t’
s an open bar
,”
Cameron said, giving his friend a quizzical look.

             
Georg
e’
s grin returned
.“
Still counts
.
”

*              *              *              *              *

              The lights appeared shortly after dinner, lunar time. They were so small as to go unnoticed by the thousands of ships, transports and satellites flitting about the invisible tether between Earth and the moon. Flashes of blue snapped off in clusters, like groups of fireflies, then vanished, leaving a winking white strobe behind. The orb tumbled and turned, drifting in the plane
t’
s orbit lazily. Then it began to sing. 

             
On the bright side of the moon, far from the bubble-domed buildings and housing units, Raymond Lee sat at his computer and stargazed. He was the only intern for the fall cycle, and lucked into the graveyard shift more often than not.

             
The Andretti Observation Center was alive with the hum of dozens of computer terminals. The size of an airplane hangar, the civilian telescope acted as a watchdog for a rather boring sector of the sky. Its enormous lens was pointed in the direction of the withering emptiness. Aside from Raymond, his supervisor and a janitorial robot, the building was empty. Everyone else was home or on vacation for the holiday.

             
The Andretti Observatory was the last man-made structure leading out beyond the crater from which it took its name. Without any light pollution, the building had an unmolested view of the stars. The scientists of the Terran Space Initiative (TSI) had used Andretti to chart out the paths that led to the colonization of extra-solar planets and moons. Not that the history of the place had anything to do with Raymon
d’
s position there. He liked the solitude, the salary was decent, and they paid him to babysit a computer.

             
“Wha
t’
s the Master Controller say
?”
Raymon
d’
s boss, Olivia, adjusted her rumpled clothing and frowned. She wore her white coat over a smart suit, and had comfortable sneakers instead of heels. Her face looked ghostly in the glow of computers, aging her far beyond her twenty-nine years. She had to look up to see Raymon
d’
s eyes.

             
Raymond did
n’
t take his gaze off the wall monitor. The strange signal was displayed as a rolling set of hills and valleys; the frequency made for an oddly beautiful graph
.“
Same as before. I
t’
s not pinging any of the relays, and Terra Node has no scheduled jumps this late in the day
.”
He shivered. It was always too cold in the observatory, but he never remembered a sweater. He put both hands on his head, weaving his fingers through his straight black hair
.“
It is strong, though
.
”

             
“Strong for a rogue bandwidth, maybe
.
”

             
“Seems more like a long range buoy, but not one
I’
ve ever seen
.”
Ray frowned
.“
Should I be worried
?
”

             
She shrugged. It would be well within their rights to hit the panic button and drag Fleet officers from their families to deal with the situation. Most likely, however, the signal was just the front end of a large transport scheduled for the next day. Long-haul pilots often used older Blue drives, and those opened wormholes hours before arrival. Starting as pinpricks of light, these pre-exits could spit out garbled transmissions and play havoc with electronics. But Raymond could
n’
t shake the feeling that something else was going on. He played a hunch, pulling up the relay traffic from the previous cycle. He ran the transcript on his personal station, his eyes jumping from jumbled text to jumbled text looking for any red flags. He found one near the bottom of the page, a note from a day before.

             
“Here
,”
he said, pointing
.“
Relays caught a note from a flare at 2215 tonight. Who uses flares anymore
?
”

             
His supervisor leaned in, pushing her glasses up her sharp nose to read the screen
.“
Probably a lumber company from Eros. The
y’
re always using ancient tech to haul their loads
.”
She marked the flag on her tablet and switched on the compute
r’
s speakers. Immediately the sounds of the relay network echoed in the vacant bay. The symphony of dull tones was nothing new to the two scientists; a fairly mundane assortment of high and low notes from the various relays. Then, at the very end of the recording, something different.