Stryker stared across the table at Emma, his six-year-old, as she practiced her poker face over a handful of Uno cards. “So, what’s your move?”
She stuck the tip of her tongue out of the side of her mouth, concentrating on the cards in her hand, and then with a devious grin she placed a “Draw Four” onto the discard pile. “Sorry, Daddy. I can’t let you win. ”
Groaning dramatically, Stryker drew four cards as Isaac, the eight-year-old, pointed at his sister and asked, “What color?”
“Blue.”
Isaac huffed with disappointment as he drew a card, and then another, and then another. “Darn,” he exclaimed, as he drew yet another card.
“Isaac, language….”
“But Dad, it’s not even a bad word.” Isaac finally stopped drawing and placed a blue “two” on the discard pile.
“It’s close enough, and I don’t like it.”
“Uno!” Emma declared, as she placed a “wild” card on the discard pile.
Hearing the front door open, Stryker turned to see Lainie come in the house, right on time.
“Mommy!” Emma’s high-pitched voice rang across the townhome. “I’m about to win at Uno!” She turned to Stryker and pointed at her wild card. “I pick blue again.”
“You’re not winning,” Isaac retorted. “I’ve got something up my sleeve.”
Stryker discarded a blue “skip” card and Isaac moaned, “Dad!”
With a brilliant smile of triumph, Emma placed another “Draw Four” card on the discard pile and yelled, “I win!”
“Congratulations to the winners and losers,” Lainie declared as she walked into the living room. “Now go upstairs and bring down your overnight bags. Nana and Poppa said that they got snow last night, so if we get there in time, maybe you guys can play in it.”
Stryker smiled as the kids raced upstairs, excited about a weekend with their grandparents.
Lainie plopped herself onto the chair Isaac had been sitting on and smiled. “How are you doing?”
He shrugged, and breathed in the lilac scent of her body wash. “Things are fine. How about you? Is the accounting gig keeping you busy?”
She laughed. “You know better. It’s the beginning of April, I’m swamped.”
Hearing her laugh stirred warm memories that he tried to forget.
“So, Poconos this weekend?”
“Yup, my parents rented a cabin. Dad was going to do some kind of cookout and roast marshmallows and stuff with the kids.” With a slight hint of a frown, she asked, “Do you know anything about those protests from last week? I heard a cop got shot or stabbed or something.”
“It was overblown by the media. It was nothing,” Stryker lied. He didn’t like lying to her, but the fact was, she wouldn’t understand. Hell, he barely understood what had happened. All he knew was some kind of chemical had been put into his coffee. He tested clean, so it was probably put in the mug while he’d gone to the bathroom.
The doorbell rang, and Stryker hopped up from his chair.
He opened the door and a mail courier greeted him with, “I’ve got a registered letter for a Lieutenant Jonathan Stryker.”
Stryker stared at the unmarked envelope and signed for it.
Walking back into the living room, he pulled open the sealed flap and extracted the typewritten pages. “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” Lainie asked.
He scanned the papers and frowned. “I’m being reactivated.”
Lainie stood with a concerned expression. “What does that mean?”
“Well, it looks like I’ve got to report in, but that’s weird. They’re not assigning me to my regular reserve unit. I’m being assigned to the 504th out of Lewis-McChord.” Stryker felt an electric thrill rush through him. What in the world could be happening that needed him to report to the MP battalion in Washington State? “Lainie, this has me reporting there in two days. It must be some kind of crisis or something. Can I ask a favor?”
With a stone-faced expression, she took in a deep breath. “What?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but would you mind staying here with the kids? And besides, Jessica and you get along well, right?”
Lainie stared daggers at him. “You’ve asked me before, and I told you. It’s stuff like this that separated us.” She glanced up at the stairs, where the kids were yelling at each other about some nonsense. “I have to help get the kids ready.”
Giving Stryker a hard poke to his chest, Lainie spoke through gritted teeth. “You tell the kids that you aren’t going to be around. I’m not doing it.”
“I will, but can you—”
“Yes, I’ll bring some of my stuff over after this weekend.” She glared at him and pointed upstairs. “Go tell them. And after they’re done crying, I’ll somehow manage to pick up the pieces ... again.”
With his stomach in knots and Lainie still glaring at him, Stryker turned to the stairs and felt like a complete shit.
###
Dave held tightly to Bella’s hand as the shuttle jolted, due to turbulence, while descending through the clouds. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, even though the other sixty miners in the passenger compartment seemed unfazed. Sitting directly opposite of him were the four men Jeff Hostetler had assigned to him. He wasn’t sure exactly what the Director of the mining operations had told them, but their job was simple: help drag supplies back up to the Moon base.
Knowing that the government probably still wanted him, it was dangerous for Dave to be back on Earth. But he had no choice in the matter. If they were going to stand a chance at avoiding impending doom, Dave needed the spools of graphene that were hidden in a nearby ISF-owned warehouse.
The lights blinked in the shuttle passenger bay as the speaker on the wall announced, “Final approach into Cape Canaveral, landing on runway 33 in two minutes.”
The shuttle tilted as they glided into position, and Dave glanced at the men who Jeff had assigned to him. They were large-muscled brutes who served as members of the colony’s security force. He wondered whether they were chosen for their ability to haul cargo or to keep him safe; either way, they were a welcome sight.
He replayed the plan in his head and knew that time was of the essence. They needed to take advantage of the night, load the cargo, and head back up to the Moon before anyone even knew what had happened. That gave him only twelve hours.
Pursing his lips, Dave focused on the task and whispered, “It’s going to be a tight schedule.”
###
As Dave peered out the passenger window of the Moon shuttle, the sun hung low in the west above Cape Canaveral. The shuttle had just landed, and it took only minutes before they coasted to a stop and everyone began to queue at the exit. As the door opened and Dave stepped onto the escalator leading to the tarmac below, he savored the warm, salty breeze coming off the coast. Unlike the odorless and highly-filtered air circulating throughout the Moon colonies, this air smelled of the ocean. Even the pungent smell of the ozone that accompanied the shuttle reminded him of the chlorine from the NYC public pool when he was a kid. He whispered to nobody in particular, “I miss these smells.”
“I wish I could remember smelling this before,” Bella said, and then sighed.
Dave wrapped his arm around her waist as they left the shadow of the large Moon transport. It had been nearly four years since he’d been to Earth, and even though he worked out regularly on the Moon, he acutely felt his weight as they walked the quarter mile between the shuttle and the Arrivals Gate. “Bella, are you okay with the weight change?”
She nodded as she flicked away a strand of her red hair that had blown into her face. “I’m not feeling too fat, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Just as Dave was about to protest, she nudged him and smiled. “I’m teasing you. I feel fine. It’s a little weird going from twenty-five pounds on the Moon to almost one hundred and fifty here, but that’s why you’ve had me wear weight belts up there, right?”
“Well, it’s so we can keep up our bone density and not waste away while we’re on the moon.”
As they approached the Arrivals Gate, a man jogged toward the line of recently disembarked passengers. Wearing an ISF badge, the man approached Dave and motioned for him to halt. “Joshua Carter, can I please see your identification?”
Dave nodded and handed the pudgy, red-faced man his falsified passport.
The ISF normally didn’t involve themselves with immigration activities, but when the Moon base had been established almost twenty years earlier, transport to and from the Moon became their domain. As the ISF officer studied his passport, he noted, “Mister Carter, you must have friends in high places, because I was asked to find you and immediately escort you and your guests through customs.” He glanced at Bella and the other members of their party. “Can I see the rest of your party’s paperwork as well?”
Bella and the four rather beefy members of the security crew handed the man their passports, as the other passengers from the shuttle walked past them toward the Arrivals Gate.
The ISF officer waved a handheld scanner over the passports. Seconds passed, and a green light flashed on the scanner. The officer nodded, but just as he returned the passport to Dave, he paused. His eyes met Dave’s, and his mouth hung open with a stunned expression. “Holy shit, it’s you!”
A chill ran up Dave’s spine. Suddenly, the man blurted, “I always believed in you even when they said ... never mind. Sir, it’s an honor.”
Before Dave could respond, the officer cleared his throat, returned the rest of the passports, and asked, “Did any of you have baggage you needed to retrieve from Baggage Claim?”
“No,” Dave shook his head. “Officer Kirkpatrick, we’re all traveling light today.”
At first the ISF official appeared surprised, and then he glanced at his own badge with his name printed on it and smiled. He nodded and motioned for them to follow. “I’ll take you through the diplomatic wing. Nobody will see you, and I’ll get you where you need to go.”
“Officer Kirkpatrick, it would be much better if you kept what you knew to yourself, the—”
The officer turned abruptly with a look of determination. “I swear on my children that your presence here will go to my grave. I simply feel better knowing that you’re still around, and I have all the faith in the world that you’ll do what’s best for us all. Sir, if I might add, you still have a lot of support in the ISF, despite all that’s been said.”
Dave placed his hand on the man’s shoulder and gave him a light squeeze. “I appreciate that. The quicker we finish some things here, the better.”
Officer Kirkpatrick nodded curtly, turned, and set a vigorous pace toward a lonely-looking door that led into the Arrivals building.
Holding Bella’s hand as they raced after the officer, the burden of guilt weighed heavily on Dave. He knew what fate had in store for Officer Kirkpatrick and everyone else on Earth. That nagging seed of shame grew within him, reminding him that he was letting the world down.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. Earth was doomed.
###
Scanning the desolate beaches of Rum Cay, a remote island in the Bahamas, Dave searched the darkness as the rest of the crew disembarked from the motorboat. The tropical breeze was like a warm breath carrying the scent of the ocean, while the sound of waves crashing on the beach competed with the squawking of a flock of seagulls overhead. The birds seemed quite agitated, clearly unused to nighttime invaders disturbing their nesting site.
Glancing up at the annoyed birds, Dave whispered, “I’m sorry to wake you guys, but it can’t be avoided.”
It was almost midnight and the crescent Moon hovering above the horizon gave just enough light for Dave to spot a darkened building in the distance.
With Bella lightly holding onto his arm, Dave motioned silently for the men to follow as he stepped off the lonely wooden pier and began trudging up the sand embankment.
After a few minutes of climbing, a square-shaped warehouse emerged from the shadows near the top of the hill. It was larger than Dave remembered; the nearest wall was almost one-hundred-feet long. Spotting a side entrance, Dave led his entourage to a metal door that seemed small for the fifteen-foot-tall building. The stone-like stucco that covered the exterior acted as camouflage during the day, but underneath the thin veneer, he knew that the warehouse was constructed like a fortress.
The ISF’s warehouses were often located in remote places, and when Dave had commissioned their construction, he’d focused on preventing unauthorized access. Composed largely of steel-reinforced concrete, these buildings contained millions upon millions of dollars worth of supplies, but it wasn’t the cost of the materials that worried him. Most people had no idea that the fate of the world rested on having available the material that was stored in the ISF warehouses scattered throughout the world. Now, much of that material would be used solely for saving the Moon.
Flipping open a rectangular weatherproof box attached to the metal door’s frame, Dave revealed a keypad onto which he typed a long sequence of numbers. Just as he pressed the last digit, a green LED lit, followed immediately by the sound of a heavy lock disengaging. The well-oiled hinges swung inward as old-style fluorescent lights flickered to life along the ceiling.
Glancing over his shoulder, Dave motioned everyone to come closer. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”
The shadows lurking throughout the warehouse vanished as the lights grew brighter. Long rows of cryptically labeled wooden crates were arranged throughout the building. There were hundreds of crates with labels such as “ISF-BT10000,” which Dave knew were 10,000 amp-hour batteries. These industrial high-capacity batteries had been designed to be used as part of DefenseNet.
Dave smirked as he thought about DefenseNet. The whole concept behind it had been a ruse that he’d used with the governmental types. Everyone could understand the concept of needing to destroy or nudge a wayward asteroid that threatened Earth. Even though many of the components he needed to deal with the impending danger were the same, he would never have been able to gain approval for what he’d been planning. The ultimate solution was beyond most people’s ability to accept.
Dave strode quickly to the far end of the warehouse. He felt barely aware of the footsteps of his companions as they rushed to keep up with him. At the far end of the warehouse, a brushed steel wall greeted him. Scanning the expanse of the blank metal wall, he nodded, knowing what was hidden behind it. He’d built the vault to house some key components that had proven oh-so-difficult to produce in mass quantity.
Dave looked up at the corner of the warehouse ceiling, then panned his gaze across thirteen of the soundproof ceiling tiles. From that position, he trailed his focus down the brushed-steel wall until he locked onto a blank space directly in front of him. Placing his hand on the cold metal, Dave felt a tingle of electricity, just as a beam of green light shot out from the wall. Squinting through the uncomfortable brightness of the scanner, he remained still until he felt a click under his hand.
With a sigh of relief, Dave gave the metal wall a slight push. Slowly, the half-ton door noiselessly swiveled, revealing another room, and what he’d ultimately come for.
Stacked from floor to ceiling were giant spools of graphene ribbon. Previously, graphene had only been manufactured in small quantities. Only through sheer luck had Dave finally stumbled onto a practical means to mass-produce it.
He glanced over his shoulder, past Bella and the burly men, to the assortment of advanced batteries, generators, and engines strewn throughout the warehouse. Unlike the graphene, which represented years’ worth of manufacturing time, the rest of the warehouse’s contents were known technology that could be replaced without much worry. Knowing that practical quantities of graphene were still extremely hard to create, Dave couldn’t afford to lose what little he’d managed to make. He motioned toward the large spools. “Guys, be careful with this stuff. Treat this like your life depended on it.”
“Your lives do depend on this,” Bella abruptly added matter-of-factly.
###
The squawking of gulls in the pre-dawn seemed to come from all over the island as Dave nervously watched spool after spool of the precious graphene exit the warehouse. Even though the ribbon was stronger than steel, Dave couldn’t risk damaging it by rolling the spools over the rough terrain of the island. The men staggered under the weight of each spool as they slowly trudged toward the boat.
The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten. Morning wasn’t far away, and they needed to get going.
Dave reentered the warehouse, brushing past Bella, and walked into the inner storeroom. He frowned as he settled his gaze on the remaining stacks of graphene spools laying floor to ceiling. “It looks like we have about half of them still in here.” He glanced at Bella, who stood in the doorway; her tousled red hair framed her green eyes. “Is that enough for what we need?”
With only a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “It should be—”
The lights suddenly flicked off, plunging the warehouse into darkness.
“What the hell!” Dave yelled, figuring someone had accidentally turned off the lights. He immediately reached for and found Bella’s hand, then felt his way toward the warehouse’s exit. As he trailed his hand along the wooden crates lining one of the aisles, Dave could barely make out the slight variation in the shades of darkness.
“Damn it, I guess either the solar chargers on the roof aren’t working or the batteries that are supposed to be powering this place aren’t any—”
Without warning, Bella screamed. Her hand ripped away from Dave’s grasp, and he was suddenly struck by something hard on the back of his head.
As his knees buckled, Dave felt hands grab him by his arms just as he lost consciousness.