The Blue Moon - Part 1 - Into the Forest (7 page)

“I still don’t know how she did it, but one day, with plenty of people around, her voice sounded out of nowhere.”

“How did you know it was my mother’s voice?”

“Well, she told me who she was, of course. You cannot be thinking I recognized some lady’s voice even though I’ve never met her before and she lives half-a-solar-system away? I’m a good detective — some people consider me the best on Earth — but that would be a stretch, even for me. I heard your mother’s voice, through thin air, on a number of occasions.

“She didn’t get to her name the first time she spoke to us. I was with my investigative team. We were on the sight of what had once been a popular tourist attraction on Earth. Before being a tourist attraction, in an ancient time, it was a spiritual site. A place called Stonehenge.”

The kettle whistled and Emmy motioned for Shankar to pause his story. She poured the boiling water into the dried leaves of the silver tea bush. The concoction glowed while the water was hot, and lost its glow as it cooled.
 

Shankar took a sip. “This is what is needed in such a cold place. It is incredible. All northern cities on Earth drink it. It helps in the long winters. I’ve lived in Toronto, I am telling you, I know.”

“So, you were saying about Stonehenge,” Emmy said.

Shankar continued, “Stonehenge is a series of rocks arranged so that they measure and track the movement of the stars. Because it was erected so early in human history, Stonehenge speaks to one of evolution’s first distinctly human expressions: the questioning of — and interest in — what’s out there. What is happening beyond, where things can’t be seen? Beyond the valley, through the forest, over the seas, in the stars.

“This ancient site had just been destroyed. Its rocks obliterated. There was an outcry at first, and some people were scandalized. Then, a brilliant materials manipulator showed that he could recreate an exact replica of the original Stonehenge. He finished his video bulletin by reminding everyone that no travel plans need to be changed — Stonehenge could be rematerialized, just as it was, down to the nanodetail, and every one could visit again just as soon as could be.

“It was rebuilt that same day and the story faded from the news. The ancient site was as empty of visitors as ever. We went to the new Stonehenge, to gather evidence of how it had been obliterated in the first place.

“Video showed a young schoolboy with a nervous twitch and mad eyes. People on Earth had only ever seen such behavior in horror movies. Gnashing teeth, frothing at the mouth, his red eyes wide open. He had a gravity gun and he was shooting beams all over the place.

“He grabbed one of the upright rocks with a gravity beam. He lifted the rock into the air and threw it up even higher. The rock fell from the sky, slamming into other rocks. The crazy bugger reduced the entire place to rubble in a matter of minutes, then ran off.

“Someone found the boy’s body a few kilometers away that same day. He’d shot himself in the head with an old fashioned gun. The entire story had made global headlines for a few hours, but the narrative seemed complete; Stonehenge was rebuilt, and the crazy vandal-boy dead by suicide. No one was looking for any more news.

“I was there because I was certain the destruction of Stonehenge was the latest in a line of acts of terrorism targeted against places of historical significance on Earth. Museums, churches, temples, art galleries, old buildings... so many had been erased from the map over the last few months. Cave paintings in Europe graffitied, the Brooklyn Bridge collapsing, the Sphinx, the Smithsonian. The list goes on and on.

“Most people on Earth are too busy and self-centered to worry about a few old places burning or falling to the ground. Most people just believe old engineering is at fault. Old things don’t last, of course. No one sees conspiracy; no one suspects this is an attack. But I do.

“I was sure these attacks had some connection and some meaning to them. There were too many to just be a coincidence. So, we were at the site of the latest destruction, looking for a clue to help our investigation. And, as I was saying, I heard a voice — we all heard a voice, your mother’s voice.”

“Well, what did she say?”

“It was the first time she spoke to us, so she didn’t get much out. She said,
The person you are looking for is named Jinn. He changes his body, but he’s the person attacking Earth’s history.
And that was it. The voice was loud enough so that we all heard it.”

“So, what did you do?”

“We thought God was speaking to us, or something. We were standing in the middle of a recently-destroyed-then-rebuilt Stonehenge, and suddenly, some loud voice tears through the air without any discernible source. We didn’t know what to do.

“Then, we started discussing what we’d heard, and we all became excited about the investigation. The idea of our suspect being a body-changer fit and we knew it. It was a huge break and it had me humbled for missing the obvious. The twitching — we’d seen recordings of the people who’d committed acts of destruction. Body-changers often have nervous twitches — an unfortunate byproduct of the brain, eyeball and nervous system transplant that makes up the body-changing procedure. Almost no one body-changes because of this. It’s impossible for medicine to repair the damage done to the nervous system in these procedures. It’s a sub-atomic problem.”

“When did you find out it was my mother?”

“The next time your mother spoke to us, a few days later, at Stonehenge again. She told us her name and where she was from. She was never able to speak with us for long. Whatever force she was manipulating in order to speak over such a great distance — she didn’t seem to have complete control over it. She always seemed rushed and her voice would fade away eventually.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“We kept tents pitched at Stonehenge for days while we waited for your mother to speak again. In the end, the story she told me went something like this:

“A Martian spy had been living in the Blue Moon, unknown to your mother. He was from St. John’s, but had made a deal with the Martians and worked for them.

“This spy had recently fled the Blue Moon. The timing of his defection was what alarmed your mother.” Shankar paused, then continued, “She said miraculous things were happening on the Blue Moon.”

“Miraculous?”

Shankar nodded and said, “It’s what we’ve all been waiting for; the cure to all the Solar System’s problems. She said the miracle of life was back in the Blue Moon. There was an entire ecosystem there, everything was procreating the natural way — babies and pregnancy and fertility and seeds — she was witnessing the miracle of life happen on its own.

“Your mother and I also agreed on what the Martians would do if they found out this was happening. Competition in the life-creation markets. Competition from an unseen and powerful force. Mars would never allow it. The Creator of Mars would come for the Blue Moon.”

“What business is it of Mars? Why should they care? Wouldn’t they welcome the return of natural life creation? Doesn’t everyone want that?”

Shankar shook his head slowly back and forth, giving a solemn no.

“The man who controls Mars is a dangerous person. He’s extremely old. He invented the terraformation processes that made Mars habitable, that made all of these space-islands habitable. He was also the first person to mass produce DNA calibrated for life on these new places. In his mind, he is the creator of planets and people, like God. It may have taken him more time than the seven days the Bible said it took God, but who was counting? When the miracle of life ended, he was happy. He said it was a natural continuation of the maturity of the human race — that we were growing up and gaining responsibility.

“He made Mars a home for this kind of thought. Mars doesn’t care about the end of the miracle of life. Their leader is the most powerful life creator in the Solar System. His whole planet reveres him as God already. He plans on controlling the entire Solar System’s life production. Once he controls the production of all new life, in time, we believe he’ll be able to make himself recognized as the God of the Solar System. The God of all life. The only God. My investigation into the attacks on Earth’s history is part of this. There can be no memory of a time when he wasn’t God, nor reference to other gods.

“So, your mother told me she intended to hide the entire Blue Moon — she never told me how she was going to do this, but we have more than ample proof she’s succeeded.”

Shankar pointed up at the sky in general.

“The last thing your mother told me was to get here in order to protect you.”
 

“Protect me from what?”

“The Martians will be looking for information related to the Blue Moon. Your mother was in charge up there, so they’ll come for you to find out what you know.” Shankar paused. “This is where you find me — I’ve followed your mother’s instructions and here we are.”

Emmy broke eye-contact with Shankar. She stared out into the drab landscape and weighed what Shankar told her. She weighed who he was, and whether or not she could trust him. She went with her gut feeling, turned her attention back to him and said, “You said you’re a detective, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Hold on one moment.”

Emmy pulled out the blue light from her bag. She put it on the table next to the silver leaf tea pot.

“You’re not the first strange thing to appear around here lately,” she said. Detective Shankar picked up the blue light and began inspecting it closely.

“This is not from St. John’s,” he said. “When did you find it?”
 

“Last night.”

“Where?”

“In my garage. It’s the same color as the Blue Moon. I think it might be a piece of the Blue Moon.”

Shankar focused his eyes and stared at the blue light, as if mesmerized. He kept staring at the light when he said, “I will need some time with this.”
 

“Go ahead. Take your time.”

Shankar pulled out handheld devices and lenses and continued his inspection of the blue light. At times he looked at it closely, other times he stared off into the distance. Occasionally, he looked at his electronic devices.

All the while, Emmy fidgeted and snacked as she waited for Shankar to finish his inspection. She looked out at the Rock Sun again. It was going through its final burn stages, all shimmering embers flickering from dark red to black more and more often.

“The Rock Sun won’t be lit for much longer today,” Emmy said, breaking the long silence that had filled the empty cottage.

Shankar stirred from his concentration. “When I landed, I heard the day would be short.”

Shankar stood up from the kitchen table and walked towards the window next to Emmy. Both of them stared out at the darkening landscape.

He handed the blue light back to Emmy and said, “I don’t know what it does or how it’s supposed to help us.” Detective Shankar’s voice trailed off. He was looking through the window, at something in the dark red sky. He traced it to the fields as his eyes widened.

“We need to leave, Emmy. We don’t have much time.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Do you see those dark shadows moving along the fields? They’re created by those dark spots moving across the Rock Sun.”

Emmy looked and could just barely make out both.

“What are they?”

Shankar took a deep breath, but did not take his eyes off the spots moving in the sky. “Those dark spots are firesail ships. The Martians are here. We need to leave.”

Chapter 5
 

The Shamrock Forest
 

“HOW DID THEY get here so quickly?” Shankar said, thinking out loud. “How could they have passed through the Asteroid Belt already? They should’ve been slowed down by debris, held up by chaos.”

Turning to Emmy, who was looking for an extra backpack in a closet, Shankar said, “Pack lightly. They’ll be looking for us. They’ll be looking for you for sure. We need to be mobile — mobility is the key. Oh, we need food. Don’t forget blankets, it’s cold here.”

Shankar stopped pacing around the cottage, looked out the window and considered their situation aloud. “Our flight off this space-island is cancelled. All the smugglers are from Earth, Terrans in disguise. They’re going to be hiding their faces. They won’t be flying, that’s for sure. The Martians are already in control of the space around St. John’s. The smugglers are stuck here, just like us.”

Despite his concerns, Emmy noticed Shankar still wore a trace of a smile.
 
“I warned them. It’s too late. The Martians are here. What’s Earth going to do now, send a diplomatic ship to ask for peace negotiations? Ha!”

Emmy jolted Shankar from his laugh by handing him a backpack filled with food, a blanket and some warm clothes. Her heavy copy of the
Traveler’s Guide to the Solar System
was the first thing packed in her bag. She laid out a blanket and placed the blue light in the middle. After wrapping the light in the blanket, she placed the package gently into the same bag. Once she put her grey coat on, she slung the bag over her shoulder and was ready to go.

“Ready?” Shankar said as he put on his warm coat.

“I’m ready. So, where are we going anyway?” Emmy hadn’t even asked herself that question until just then.

“The Martians are going to be active for the next few days. So, we are needful of a place to hide until we can leave St. John’s. That place looks good.”

Shankar pointed to the horizon, past the reflective fields and towards a pale, light green wall that stretched across the mountain ridge of St. John’s.

“The Shamrock Forest?” Emmy said. “Shouldn’t we make contact with some smugglers? Maybe someone has a plan to get away.”

“You don’t know Terrans. They’re hiding by now, for sure. They don’t like to stress themselves. The Martians will intercept any ship trying to leave from here. We’ll have to find another way off of St. John’s.”

“Why wouldn’t we try to get help? I mean, the ADF, or St. John’s Council?”

“Those are the first institutions the Martians will control. They might already control them. Those aren’t safe places. By tomorrow morning, the ADF will be destroyed or abandoned. Mars won’t let anything stand between them and the Blue Moon. They no longer care about peace treaties or St. John’s sovereignty or anything like that. We need to be subtle and sneaky — for now. The smugglers will be hiding. We need to find them.”