Five Moons of Pluto Read online

  FIVE MOONS OF PLUTO

  GATES OF OLYMPUS

  Orin chases Nelson down a dark New York City alley. Both men are in great shape, tan and muscular, and they have the same physical features—the same chiseled jawline, blue eyes, and dark blond hair—with the exception that Orin is slightly taller and better looking.

  Nelson jumps and climbs up a fire escape with ease. Orin follows closely.

  They jump from rooftop to rooftop with the swiftness and agility of Olympic athletes. Nelson leaps from one of the rooftops and crashes through the window of a random apartment, with little regard for his own wellbeing. Paintings, clay pots, and buckets of paint lay scattered around the room. Nelson runs through, assessing the artwork around him for the briefest moment. Awful, he thinks as he slams open a door and bolts through.

  Nelson is running down the hallway when Orin throws a bucket of blueish-green paint with such extreme force that it knocks Nelson down to his knees. The aqua color splatters all over Nelson’s face and body before spilling completely onto the floor. That’s when Orin takes his shot. Seeing Nelson finally appear vulnerable, Orin unleashes a series of combinations on him; some of the blows connect but none are effective at doing any real damage to Nelson, who simply absorbs most of them, seemingly unfazed.

  Nelson wipes his hand into the paint and smears it across Orin’s face, blinding him. Gaining enough momentum to get off his knees and stand, he thrusts himself forward and crashes into Orin. Nelson pushes the weight of his body against him, making his way with him back toward the window. Orin is weak and defenseless when Nelson kicks him out of the window, and he falls to the ground below.

  The fall is not very far but is just enough to put Orin down for a while. Nelson looks out of the window, down at Orin as he lies on the ground. A crowd quickly gathers, and Nelson leaves.

  ****

  Nelson opens the door to his apartment, so far unscathed. The apartment is neat and clean. He throws his keys in a clear dish and checks through his coat pockets. Something doesn’t seem right; he thinks he might have lost something.

  Suddenly, Nelson feels a blow to his face. It knocks him backward and he nearly blacks out. He manages to squint, and he sees Orin’s blurry figure standing over him, his fist clenched in a furious rage. Orin thrusts his fist forward, striking Nelson in the nose. His other hand grabs at Nelson’s throat, his palm enclosed around it.

  Struck twice now, and with little breath remaining, Nelson is in excruciating pain. His head drops down to the floor, and he feels like he wants to relent. Orin then turns him over with ease, grabbing him from behind and submitting him in a choke hold.

  “How many of you came?” Orin grunts in his ear, but Nelson remains silent. “How many?!” He squeezes Nelson tighter.

  Nelson manages a breathless gasp. “We found you, traitor.”

  Then, in one swift, smooth motion, Orin snaps his neck.

  He stands over Nelson for only a moment before going to the bathroom to wash off the paint. He walks over Nelson’s limp body on his way back out and stands by the door. Before stepping out, he throws Nelson’s wallet, his I.D card, and two small round devices toward Nelson’s body. Then he leaves.

  Orin is driving down the block when an explosion bursts out from the apartment window. Red flames race from the window, then billowing smoke. Orin turns on soft jazz music and continues driving.

  6 MONTHS LATER

  The automated blinders open, letting the sun’s rays in to shine upon Orin’s face. He covers his face with a pillow to block them, then peeks out from under the pillow and turns his face, just slightly, to carefully look out the window. Thick white clouds travel peacefully across the sky. Cruisers fly silently up high on the sky highway.

  Orin smiles to himself, glad that he didn’t buy the house closer to the skyway. Sure, it would have been a shorter commute to and from work, but he loves the long drive along Hollow Lane, looking down upon the trees that dot the perimeter of the lake, where he had proposed to the woman he loves.

  Slowly, Orin gets himself out of bed, guarding his face from the sunlight as he walks to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror and touches the scar on his chest, then he opens the mirror and slides open the back panel. He sticks his hand into the wall and pulls out a small, circular metal dish. He checks first outside of the bathroom to make sure he’s alone, then he presses the button on the dish and it slides open. Orin dips two fingers into the sticky white substance and gently applies it to his scar.

  He closes the dish, placing it back inside the nook in the wall, then he closes the mirror behind it.

  ****

  Orin steps into the kitchen, fully dressed in his Gatekeeper uniform. It is white with black stripes down the sides. His jacket fits like a turtleneck, and he wears white boots, his pants covering them to the ankle. He wears his Gatekeeper badge on the right side of his chest.

  Orinwalks over to Sahra, an attractive woman with long blond hair that falls in a sheet past her thin shoulders. He wraps his arms gently around her and kisses her on the neck. He breathes in the delicate scent of her perfume, allowing the aroma to take him back in time. He remembers immediately the first time they met, where they had coffee and scones at the Skyway Café, and where they watched the Starworks show later that evening. Wonderful memories, he thinks to himself.

  Still, he wants to forget them. But the scent will forever haunt his memory.

  "Are you just going to stand there sniffing my neck all day?" Sahra says, giggling. Orin kisses her on the cheek and smiles.

  "It's hard to resist. You know, I wrote a thesis in college about how they manufacture the perfume you're wearing." Orin pours himself a cup of coffee.

  "Do tell,” Sahra says.

  "Well, there are three known ingredients that make up your perfume. Two of them come from a plant on the planet Vera 5, and one of them is poisonous so it must be extracted at night while the plant protects itself from the deadly Crocos insect.” He watches as Sahra smiles at his intelligence. “The other ingredient comes from an animal on the planet Ulros, called the Wargus." Orin pours half-n-half into his coffee and stirs it, then he continues. "Combined, this concoction was used not only as a truth serum against the humans during the Repla Revolution, but also as a deadly virus that destroys the nervous system." He sits down across from Sahra and takes a sip of his coffee, reveling in his knowledge of outer-world plants and animals.

  They both laugh.

  "You almost had me, you know,” Sahra says.

  "It's the truth, I swear," he tells her, and they both stop laughing.

  Orin gets up to open a cupboard, and he takes out a small box. Sahra shakes her head.

  "I know, babe, but this is important." He hands her the box. "You are very important to me," he says.

  Sahra opens the box and pulls out a long necklace with a tiny crystal pendant shaped like a diamond but stretched longer at the end. “How much did this put us back?” she asks him sternly.

  “Hey, no regrets, remember?”

  “No regrets.” Sahra smiles hesitantly.

  "I love you, Sahra."

  She smiles more convincingly this time and hugs Orin tightly, then she touches her palm to his chest. She feels something—something different about her husband.

  Orin gently moves her hand away from the scar.

  ****

  Orin leaves his house and looks up into the sky. He can barely see it, but he knows it’s there: The Olympus Gate. It’s a dome that surrounds the entire planet, built right after the Repla Revolution, with only four entryways. With the dome, Olympus is now the most impenetrable planet in the universe.

  Orin gets into his cruiser, waves goodbye to Sahra, and flies off.

  Orin is comfortable driving hi
s cruiser, and he loves the speed, but after just a short time driving, he pushes a button that engages the autopilot. He then reclines back and looks up at the sky through the sunroof.

  He is much closer to the dome now, so close he can see the metallic pillars combined together to form an octagon shape that stretches across the length of the sky. He can see the maintenance ships doing repairs and checking for structural damage on the dome. Orin thinks for a moment of the light radiation emitted by the pillars—harmless only to Replas, and the atmosphere. He turns his attention back to the men working.

  “Couldn’t pay me enough to for that job,” Orin says out loud to himself.

  The pillars are made from a special metal, unique to the planet K7623. It takes three months to melt down the metal; once it’s melted, it must remain in its liquid state. If the metal returns to its solid form, it will remain that way forever—no matter how long it is kept in the smelting pot. Not even the fires from Olympus’s yellow sun can melt this metal once it’s returned to solid. It never rusts, never ages, and it is unbreakable.

  And so the planet Olympus will forever be caged.

  ****

  The parking lot is nearly full at this time in the morning, and the sun is blinding against the pavement. Orin lands his cruiser and rubs his eyes as he steps out. He walks toward the Skyway Café, noticing how it hasn’t changed since the first time he met Sahra.

  Sitting at a table for two is Vina, her long thin fingers lifting her teacup toward her soft pink lips. She spots Orin with piercing, emerald green eyes as he walks toward her. Then she stands to greet him.

  “Good morning, Orin,” she says rather curtly. “How are you?”

  Orin’s facial expressions do not react to her words. He sits down easily and says, “I’m fine.”

  Vina sits back down as well and crosses two long, silky legs together. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

  “No, I’m not hungry.”

  She takes a sip of her tea and looks at it. “My word, this has got to be the most fabulous tea I have ever tasted! You must try some.

  "You have—“ Orin looks briefly at his watch —“ten minutes."

  Vina smiles. “Very well. I believe everything is in order and ready to commence?”

  “Of course.” Orin’s lips twist together, and his brows furrow. How insulting of her to even ask!

  “Spectacular,” she says. “The Council will be very pleased to hear about it." She then places a package on top of the table and slides it slowly toward Orin. "As requested."

  Orin takes the package and gets up to leave. Vina stares at him as she takes another sip of her tea. Her face becomes angry.

  "Was it worth it?” she asks, stopping him in his tracks. “Was it worth it to betray the people you swore to serve and protect?"

  Vina's words sink deep inside him, like heavy stones. Serve and protect—words that he will never forget. Words that he once lived by and should have died by. He turns around and looks sternly at her, a warning for her to stop. But Vina continues.

  “If it wasn’t for the Grand Commander, you and your Sahra would have been obliterated long ago.” She stands up and walks towards him, then she gently touches his face. “What happened to you?”

  Orin pushes 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? It’s a gift from my wife.”

  “You 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.”

  Orin 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 chest, 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.

  The 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!”