Opus X Series Boxed Set One

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

March 8, 2227, United Terran Confederation (UTC) Standard Date. Mu Arae System, Molino, First Moon of Planet Quijote

The doctor checked the vitals, confirming the male patient was still “inside” his shell. When he leaned over him, he noticed the man’s eyeballs jerking erratically.

“Patient is mentally aware.” Doctor James looked at the sensors connected to the body. “Looks to be a dream, or perhaps a memory.” He glanced down at his wrist-tablet and typed in a couple of commands. “We will need to pull him out of the forced coma soon.”

The doctor made sure all the filters were correct. Although nothing should have changed, it never hurt to verify his expectations.

On his way out of the small rehabilitation room in the med center, the doctor turned and eyed the soldier. “I hope your dreams are pleasant, Major, whatever they are.”

With that, he moved his hand down, and the lights went to ten percent.

The beeps continued rhythmically long after the silver doors closed.

Erik groaned and opened his eyes, then squinted at the bright light above him. Soft voices murmured around him. They sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place them. He lifted his head, his eyes finally having adjusted. He was lying on a comfortable railed bed lined up with several empty ones.

The med center.

A soft beep sounded from the bed. Silver medpatches were all over his body. Most of his major wounds were at least sealed. A familiar warmth suffused his body, a sign of the medical nanobots doing their steady, indefatigable work. They might not be able to regrow a limb, but they could fix most damage short of that.

A man stepped into the room through the open doorway. He’d been speaking to a couple of other people outside. He pressed a button, and the silver door slid closed behind him. Even without the white and red uniform, Erik would have recognized him. There weren’t a huge number of doctors in such a tiny colony.

“Doctor James,” Erik croaked out, his voice rough. “The Dragon finally showed up?”

He was still confused by how the vehicle could have fought off a fighter.

Doctor James shook his head. “Xingguan and local UTC security traveled to the location when you didn’t check in. There was some sort of computer problem with your air vehicle. When they arrived, they found the battle site.” He sighed. “What remained of it, anyway. I’ll be honest. Xingguan is furious over the damage to the mine and how long it’ll take them to repair it. Considering what happened, I would think they would be more understanding. At least all the terrorists are dead.”

Erik shook his head. “They had a fighter. How did the locals take that down?” His mind was not tracking well. “They don’t even have something equivalent to the Dragon.”

Doctor James shrugged. “I don’t know all the details. I was only informed that the terrorists are all dead. Apparently, the few terrorist survivors were killed when they put up resistance after the security forces showed up.”

“That’s not possible.” Erik sat up and groaned.

“You shouldn’t strain yourself, Major.” Doctor James gently pushed him down. “You were very close to dying. If anything, I’d say it was only luck that saved you.”

“Luck?” Erik eyed the doctor. “No, I think years of bad luck finally caught up with me.”

Doctor James reached into a pocket and pulled out a bent dog tag. He offered it to Erik. “This is yours. You were seriously injured, and the best I can tell, this deflected a bullet meant for your heart.” He flicked the piece of metal with a finger. “This little tag saved your life and made sure we didn’t get to use it for its intended purpose.”

Erik reached out and gingerly took the dog tag. “I knew these things were tough, but I didn’t realize they were that tough.” He looked around the otherwise empty room. “Where are my troops? I’m not an i***t, and I was paying attention. I know several of them went down, but where are the survivors? You got some converted room somewhere? I need to know who is left alive. I already have too many messages to write to families as it is.”

Doctor James’ face tightened, and he took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this, Major.”

“Just tell me,” Erik growled. “This isn’t the time to worry about sparing my feelings. I’m not happy, but this isn’t the first time I’ve lost people on a mission.”

“You’re the only survivor.” Doctor James averted his eyes. “Obviously, the small number of support personnel and the pilots who were at the base are unharmed, but all of the other soldiers, all forty-nine of them, were dead upon the arrival of the security teams.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Everyone?” He gritted his teeth. “Some of them had to have survived.”

“I’m sorry, Major. It is what it is.” Doctor James nodded. “You should rest. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I know the governor is ready to speak to you when you’re in a little better shape. My condolences. Those were good men and women, and they didn’t deserve to die at the hands of terrorists.”

Erik thought about it for a moment, working with his clouded thoughts.

Those weren’t terrorists. I don’t know what’s going on here, but there is absolutely no way the men who ambushed us were terrorists.

Those pieces of garbage were tools. Well supplied and trained tools, but tools, nonetheless. No.

He closed his eyes.

This rot goes higher.

Erik dropped into the comfortable black synthetic leather chair in front of the colonial governor’s massive glass desk. Other than the impressive furniture, including a high-backed chair reminiscent of a throne, the office was surprisingly spartan, with only a few paintings completing the decoration.

There was something about governors and paintings.

Erik had never seen a colonial governor’s office that didn’t have a painting or two. He didn’t see the point, but maybe it was a way for them to pretend they were still on Earth and continuing the ancient traditions of leaders from the distant past.

Perhaps it was a way of implying status and wealth, two things he cared very little about, even if thirty years of frontier service, hazard pay, and smart investing had left him well off.

Erik hissed slightly as he settled into the chair. The nanobots helped with the pain and the wounds. It’d been almost two weeks since the battle, and the little machines continued to knit him back together.

Pain is weakness leaving the body.

A slight weight rested on his chest underneath his shirt: his bent dog tag. They had mentioned fabricating him a new one, but he wanted to keep the old one as a symbol of when his luck had failed him, and as a remembrance of all the other Knights who had died outside that mine at the hands of their mysterious enemy.

Governor Anders, a pale brown-haired man with a perpetually harried expression, sighed behind his desk. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to speak to you in the hospital, Major, but I wanted to give you time to recover and collect your thoughts before we discussed the incident. I’ve been doing my part to look into it. I’ve sent only the most basic reports out, but if they decided to bounce it all the way back to Earth…” He sighed again. “Well, it’ll be a while.”

“You’ve investigated?” Erik asked.

The governor pursed his lips. “Yes, what little we have the capability of doing here. It’s not as if this is a core world or even a reasonably mature colony.”

Erik grunted and shook his head. “It wasn’t terrorists, Governor Anders. I want that noted right here and right now.”

“So I’ve been informed you’ve said.” The governor licked his lips. “You’re the expert in this sort of thing, so I’m inclined to trust your judgment.” He looked Erik in the eyes. “But are you sure about that?” The governor seemed to be pushing Erik, making him answer.

“Don’t screw with me.” Erik slammed a fist on the desk. The entire top rattled despite its mass. “I know what I saw. Exoskeletons? A fighter? Optical camouflage?” He shook his head. “Those guys were better equipped than my platoon, and they had the technical know-how to hack systems here. Additionally, I don’t understand why there was a locked door in that mine that wouldn’t take my emergency military credentials.”

Governor Anders took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know it’s small comfort, Major, but I agree with you.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning there are…inconsistencies in some of the reports and records.” The governor shook his head. “Let’s face it, I might be the official UTC governor of this colony, but I’m basically just here to sit in a chair since Xingguan controls everything. But that’s just the thing; even the Xingguan representatives here seem confused by what happened, and of course, they’re in a panic because the mine complex was half-collapsed by obvious bombing. They’re desperate for any UTC help they can get, either in repair or investigation.”

Erik pondered that for a moment. “Xingguan wants you to investigate further?”

Governor Anders nodded. “They’ve practically insisted that we do so. I think the local company reps are all convinced they’re going to be recalled over this.” He shrugged. “The problem is, as I implied earlier, we don’t exactly have access to great investigative resources. It’s obvious that even though our satellites, drones, and cameras were disrupted, the damage to the mine could have only been done by a vehicle such as you described. We’re attempting to scour the moon for any sign, and we’re failing. The in-system destroyer is searching for them as well, but they’ve found nothing, and they’re concerned about straying too far from the colony now, given the attack.”

Erik leaned back, nodding slowly. If everyone agreed, that made things easier. “Then we need to get additional resources here. Investigators. More ships.”

Governor Anders shook his head. “If you want to stick around and convince the next governor of that, you’re welcome to, but I’ve already requested a transfer. I’m even willing to take a demotion.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened to my unit.” Erik narrowed his eyes again. “Running away won’t bring them back.”

“You don’t understand.” He leaned forward in his chair to look Erik in the eye. “I do feel bad about what happened to your soldiers, but this is simply base cowardice on my part, nothing more.” Governor Anders let out a nervous laugh as he waved a hand around. “I thought I could improve my career here. When I was assigned here, there was still a good chance war would break out, but I didn’t worry. I figured that with a UTC fleet in orbit, I’d be safe. I’d get all the credit and take none of the risk, but then this happened.” He raised an eyebrow. “Major, I’ve spent the last week looking into things, and I’ve come to the conclusion there is no way those kinds of assets made planetfall without someone helping them.”

There was a definite pause before he continued.

“Someone on the inside,” the governor finished. “I don’t know if it was UTC or Xingguan, because we both seem clueless, but there’s something bad happening here, and I don’t think it has anything to do with terrorists.”

“Who?” Erik held back a growl. “You must have at least some idea.”

“No, I don’t know, and it’s why I’ve requested a transfer.” The governor paused, looking off into the distance as if he were contemplating the stupidity of his next action before focusing on Erik again. “I was looking into some things using my administrative codes. I’m supposed to know about everything going on in this colony, in theory. Even if the company keeps secrets, I’m still supposed to know in general what they’re planning.”

He stopped, so Erik pushed him. “And?”

Anders shook his head. “I found a few encrypted messages with message tracking codes originating from the Neo Southern California Metroplex back on Earth. Even more suspicious, the messages were sent some time ago, but conveniently arrived a couple of days before the auditor. He only came from a few gates over, but the message timing is interesting.”

He stared at Erik, the silence lengthening before he asked, “Major, you know how long it takes to get a message from Earth out here?”

“About two months, right?”

“Exactly.”

Erik frowned. “And where exactly did the messages come from in Neo SoCal? That’s basically, what…half a state with a hundred million people?”

Anders shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s all I could discover with my resources here. You’d have to take that up with Hermes Corp, and I doubt they’re going to crack open their records just because we ask them to. There’s another problem, anyway.”

Governor Anders took a deep breath, and his eyes darted around for a few seconds as if he expected terrorists to kick in his door. “This is what’s got me really worried. I was going to send those messages off since I didn’t have any idea how to decode them, but this morning when I went to check on them, the messages were gone. Deleted from my system, with no evidence they ever existed or that I’d ever accessed them.”

“Somebody’s covering something up.” Erik leaned back just a bit, folding his arms. “Xingguan?”

“No.” A sharp shake of his head. “It’s like I told you. They’ve been encouraging an investigation, including into their systems. If they are responsible, their local representatives aren’t in the loop.” He tapped the top of his desk at each of his points. “They’re in a complete panic about the damage to the mine. It’ll take months to get it back up to capacity, and it might take months to identify the terrorists, and that’s assuming our requests don’t mysteriously disappear on the way back to Earth.”

Erik ground his teeth with the frustration of not knowing. The information seemed like it was close, but it was leaking out of his hands. “I don’t get it. What are you saying happened here? Who killed my people? This isn’t a metroplex. Those people had to be sent here from another location.”

Governor Anders shrugged. “Someone with enough resources to end-run a major corporation, the UTC bureaucracy, and the military.” His eyes pointed out that even Erik’s group had been sandbagged. The blame for not knowing touched multiple groups. “I don’t know what this is about, but I don’t intend to find out, and I suggest you leave as well, Major. I imagine it’d be easy for either of us to fake suicide, given what’s going on.”

“My soldiers deserve justice,” Erik countered. The anger in his voice wasn’t directed at the governor, so much as the universe as a whole. “I have served the UTC for thirty years. I’ve seen my share of corruption and bribery and crap out on the frontier.”

Erik growled, his words an accusation, “But I’ve never seen an entire special forces platoon slaughtered and then had people act like it’s no big deal, or that it was just some garden variety terrorists getting lucky.”

“I understand.” Governor Anders ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve already helped you as much as I can. You won’t do anyone any good pushing this farther here, not when whoever is responsible has the upper hand and we have so few resources, but I’ve got an idea. It’s my understanding that you were born in the Greater Detroit Metroplex on Earth. At least that’s what your records said. The unclassified part, anyway.”

Erik shrugged, not sure where he was going with this. “Yes, so? What does that have to do with anything?”

Governor Anders smiled. “I was born in the United States, too. New York Metroplex. I used to be a lawyer before I entered government service. One of my first jobs involved doing regulations research for the government. It’s been one hundred and twenty-seven years since the UTC was founded, and every member state pledged to better coordinate their laws, but, yeah, lots of things left over. Lots of things we need to prune or modify. Most of it isn’t all that important, but every once in a while, something comes up, and a member state ends up embroiled in a legal controversy.”

The original curiosity was losing ground to Erik’s desire to stick his gun into someone’s chest and pronounce forty-nine names, pulling the trigger with each one. “No offense, Anders, but why should I care? UTC laws have nothing to do with my men.”

“You should care since one of the more interesting laws I came across,” Governor Anders leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile on his lips, “was the so-called Obsidian Detective Act of 2095.”

Erik pursed his lips. “How the hell did we go from talking about my soldiers to old laws?”

Governor Anders chuckled. “Knowledge is the ultimate power in a bureaucracy, Major, and the UTC is the grandest bureaucracy ever to grace humanity. All of the subordinate countries are still twisting themselves to try to fit with it. The law was passed after the Summer of Sorrow. It’s almost funny in a sick way, considering we’re talking about Neo SoCal.”

Erik nodded slowly, still confused as he pondered the governor’s words. However, he knew enough to believe the man was trying to help and offering a back door. Perhaps.

And right now, the front door was locked and guarded.

Few historians doubted the Summer of Sorrow was responsible for changing the entire course of Earth’s, and, arguably, galactic history.

In 2090, terrorists used a stolen nuclear weapon to destroy the greater Los Angeles area, killing tens of millions. The men responsible belonged to a militant transhumanist group called Second Spring who objected to the heavy restrictions on genetic engineering and cybernetic modification that had arisen in the preceding decades.

The action represented the largest-scale attack by the group since their founding in 2070 and was part of their goal of creating enough chaos to force humanity to turn to Second Spring’s messianic transhumanist vision for survival.

The destruction of one of the largest cities in the world not only crippled the economy of the United States and deeply shocked the nation, but it also threw the entire world into a depression.

Chinese intelligence was instrumental in tracking down the major Second Spring bases after a few lucky intercepts, and joint Chinese and American military forces then proceeded to ruthlessly track down and eliminate the terrorists.

Without mercy.

In addition to forging a new, close bond between China and the United States, the incident and the following years also led to the rise of the anti-transhumanist Purist movement, and a strong pushback culturally and legally against genetic engineering and so-called unnecessary and unnatural cybernetic modification.

Despite the need for a government to also handle the offworld colonies in the Solar System, arguably, without the incident, the United Terran Confederation wouldn’t have been formed in 2100, since China and the US formed the heart of the new pan-human international and interplanetary government.

By the time humanity was ready to start reaching for the stars, with the help of the newly developed hyperspace transfer point a few decades later, they were unified and ready to face the challenges of spreading beyond the Solar System.

The Neo Southern California Metroplex arose from the ashes of the destroyed greater LA area at its core, helped along by international aid, particularly from China. over the following decades.

Over the following decades, Neo SoCal grew and absorbed many of the other cities of Southern California, all the while also being a hub for overseas arrivals hoping to make their mark in an unusual if not unique urban environment.

“What is this Obsidian Detective Act?” Erik asked.

“A law named after a popular movie series from the era.” Governor Anders shrugged. “I tried watching one once, but they are…dated, and they aren’t all that relevant.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “The point is, around that time, the government was having trouble recruiting enough law enforcement personnel when they first started building Neo SoCal. That issue was compounded by the existing shortage of law enforcement officers because, among other things, the continued rise of cybered-up criminals and a lag in getting the police the resources they needed.”

“They came up with an idea,” the Governor continued. “They would recruit a ready source of disciplined men and women from military veterans, but they still had trouble, since a lot of veterans didn’t want to join a police department and work their way up from the bottom after years of earning their place in the service.” He pointed at Erik. “And that’s where this law comes in. It allows a veteran with commensurate rank and experience to not only be guaranteed a law enforcement position but a higher-ranking one.”

Erik stared at the governor. “You’re saying you want me to go back to Earth and become a cop?”

Governor Anders nodded. “I think, perhaps, they might need a new detective? You’ll never find out the truth of what happened here working from inside the UTC military, especially since they’ll ship you far away from here soon. The one clue we have is those suspicious messages that originated from Neo SoCal. If you’re a detective back on Earth, things will be different.”

Anders’ voice dropped from being official to more personal. “Erik, you will have access to different and better opportunities to pursue justice, especially if you’re willing to bend the rules a little. Even using this law is a little bit of a cheat. Last time I checked, it hadn’t been used in fifty years. I’m not totally sure it’ll work, but no one’s bothered to repeal it since it doesn’t conflict with UTC law.”

Erik snorted. “I spent thirty years following the rules and cleaning up after politicians and corporations.” He shook his head. “Now forty-nine of my soldiers are dead, and I want to know why. I deserve to know why. Bend a few rules?” His voice became granite. “I’ll snap them in half if I have to. The good little major died on that battlefield. I don’t know who will be replacing him yet, but it’s someone who’ll do what it takes.”

Anders watched as the major withdrew for a moment.

Erik took a deep breath and looked back up. “Thanks. I know where I’m going now, but I have a favor to ask.”

“Anything,” Governor Anders replied, his hands opening wide. “If it’s within my meager power here, I’ll do it.”

“Would you happen to know if they recovered my personal firearm from the battle site?”

Governor Anders nodded slowly. “They did. It was being stored as evidence last time I checked.”

“Can you get it for me?” Erik asked.

“Yes, Major.” Governor Anders managed a weak smile.

“Or should I say,” he asked, “Detective?”