Authors: Matt Roberts
Ambrose adopted a stern expression. “Would you have taken Rodriguez if you’d known who he was – if you’d known the consequences? Of course not. Keeping you in the dark was necessary,” he asserted.
“Necessary?” Owyn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “We’ve already lost Shaw and Tucker and we’re going to lose others, if not everyone. We’ve got the entire fucking DPD hunting us to the death. How is that necessary?”
“I didn’t intend for any of you to die, but otherwise the mission ended exactly as intended. You weren’t ever there for information; you were there to start a war. Colonel Bauer saw you take Rodriguez and so was forced to try to terminate ISO. Now you’ll fight the DPD and you’ll win.”
Owyn couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You really have lost your mind. Our numbers are nothing compared to theirs. We can’t win.”
“That’s exactly why it was necessary – it seems hopeless. I could easily have led you here and told you everything, yes, but what reason would you have had to act on what I said? I assembled ISO from people who all had a will to fight and survive despite seemingly having nothing left to fight for. There’s no man left alive who would fight a losing battle simply because it’s the right thing to do, not even you, but there are some who will do whatever they can to survive. Those are the people I chose to form ISO, and that’s why you
will
fight this war.”
“The right thing?” Owyn shrugged. “What exactly are we supposed to be fighting for? What’s so important that you’ve gone to all these lengths to start a war?”
“The very same thing that drove Rodriguez to free you and allow you to pursue me here – the truth about Altaris.”
“How can that possibly be worth all this?”
“The entire Tajari desert was designed specifically to hide this place. Those are the lengths XION has gone to in order to keep their secrets. Javier Rodriguez died simply because he wanted people to know the truth. He hardly told you anything yet still ended up with a bullet in his brain. Isn’t that enough to show you how important this is?”
Owyn gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to give in, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d seen how desperate Rodriguez had been to tell them what he knew yet felt helpless to do so. There was no way he could leave here without hearing it, whatever his feelings. “Okay. Alright. Tell me.”
Ambrose nodded, keeping a straight face. He turned away from Owyn, himself now gazing through the window at the column full of Vitirium. “This planet isn’t really humanity’s new home. It was never intended to be. It’s an experiment – a trial run – whichever you want to see it as. Once XION had come to the conclusion they needed to create a hospitable planet they identified two near identical candidates, each within three years of travel from Earth – that being a viable distance of around 25 light-years. Both were frozen wastelands with atmospheres full of toxic carbon dioxide but they each had enough water and oxygen to potentially become hospitable.
In theory, XION’s scientists knew that all they needed to do to make either planet able to support life was to heat the core, then they could import healthy plants from their storage facilities on Earth and correct the oxygen and carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere. Their problem was that none of that could be reliably tested on Earth; neither could their plans for cities or for how they were going to govern the planet. They could synthesise a prototype form of Vitirium, but they wouldn’t know if it could serve its purpose without putting it to use.”
“So they chose one of the two planets to be a test of whether it could work?” Owyn was beginning to put the pieces together in his head. Somehow, in spite of how ridiculous it all sounded, it made sense. “That’s what this is? The test?”
“Exactly. The ‘real’ Altaris is yet to be populated and is the best part of 40 light-years from here.”
“Surely the costs of going through the whole process twice would be too much even for XION.”
Ambrose turned back to face Owyn. “You’re underestimating the kinds of resources XION possesses. By taking the USA they became the most powerful entity on Earth, with more wealth and influence than any nation or empire in history could ever match. You’re also forgetting that they control this entire planet. Despite it only being a test it can still be used to produce the raw materials for a second attempt to be easily affordable. They also control the economy meaning they have all of the manpower they could ever need to work on their project. Already they’ve produced a working blueprint for their cities – Kyvos – and harvested all the materials needed to build fifty like it.”
Owyn still felt as though he was missing something. “Even if all of this is true why does it need covering up? So what if this planet is an experiment? People are living happily here and why wouldn’t they be able to move to the new Altaris eventually?”
“It needs to be covered up because an experiment of this magnitude comes with huge risks.” Ambrose paused momentarily. “Vitirium is highly unstable. You saw the destruction it can cause first hand. XION have been refining the formula for decades but they still haven’t perfected it. Installation 3 was one of a few dozen sites working to produce a stable form, as they have been ever since this initial test was successful. Rodriguez’ site wasn’t making much progress but others are.
The more serious issue is that the Vitirium that fills these towers is still the same mixture they brought from Earth in 2030, nearly twenty years ago. There’s already an enormous quantity in the planet’s core that can’t be removed or replaced, and it’s been degrading the entire time it’s been there. XION estimate between two and three years before its structure breaks down and it ignites, causing the core to be ripped apart and the planet to collapse. That’s why no new cities were built after Kyvos was completed and why no ships have arrived for over a year. It’s also why they’re in such a hurry to produce a stable form of Vitirium. This planet is running out of time.”
Owyn’s heart sank. What Rodriguez had said now made perfect sense – this world was going to burn, whatever happened.
“More than 6 million people live across the fifteen cities of Altaris, none of which can be moved until the new planet is hospitable,” Ambrose continued. “It took a decade of work to get to that stage here, and it’s unlikely XION will be able to start on the second world for at least another year. Everyone could be returned to Earth, yes, but that would raise awkward questions, and considering the time it’s taken to build that population even that would be difficult to manage in time. Besides, if the public found out that this had been kept from them there’d be chaos.
The easier option is to keep it quiet, extracting only those at the top of the DPD and a few other useful personnel when the situation becomes critical. That means 6 million people are living on top of a time bomb they won’t know exists until it goes off. XION knew before bringing anyone here that they were against the clock, but they deemed these people to be acceptable losses. No one who came here had connections with anyone who stayed behind, meaning no one will realise they’re missing when populating the second Altaris. It’s all meticulously planned so that no one will ever know what happened here.”
Owyn stood in silence. He didn’t know what to make of it all; his head was spinning.
“What was our purpose in all of this?” he asked, although suspecting he already knew the answer. “Why did XION need ISO?”
“To make sure nobody on the surface finds out they’re doomed to die. To protect their secret so they can keep control of the people. As you’ve probably guessed ISO was intended to be far larger than it is but once XION discovered their time was going to be cut short they decided they could cut back without significant risk.”
Owyn nodded solemnly, using all of his strength to hold back the urge to lash out. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. It was just as O’Brien had said; he just needed to be told he was on the right side and he’d do whatever was asked of him without question. Sure, he’d had occasional doubts about what they did, but he’d never imagined this.
“That’s why they kept us so far isolated from everything,” he said. “So we’d never find out what we’re protecting.”
“More or less, yes,” Ambrose confirmed. “When I was appointed head of ISO I demanded independence from the DPD so that we wouldn’t be constantly monitored. The compromise was for ISO to be kept in a confined, isolated location where they would be at the least risk of exposure to controlled information and could easily be terminated should it be necessary. That wasn’t how they put it, but I always assumed they’d keep a failsafe. An organisation like ours was far too dangerous to allow to operate independently without have a kill switch.”
“A kill switch? If that was the case wouldn’t we all be dead already?”
“Colonel Bauer had a hidden device connected to our IC, giving him the ability to remotely disable all of the station’s systems, meaning no oxygen and no means of escape. That’s why I had Sullivan check the IC when we first arrived on the station. He identified the device, which I disconnected while you were in Kyvos earlier today. Had I tampered with it any earlier Bauer would have realised we knew about it, so I assured Sullivan it was the communications channel the DPD used to relay mission data to us.”
Owyn chuckled. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to find humour in anything, but there was still one question that Ambrose hadn’t managed to answer. “How the hell did you get XION to think they could trust you?”
Of course, Ambrose sidestepped the question. “As much as you doubt it, Owyn, I’m doing the right thing. I could have waited it out, doing XION’s bidding until the end before hopping on the ship out of here, leaving you and everyone else on this planet to die without ever knowing why. I sacrificed that for a chance that some of them can be saved. It’s a slim chance, but it’s a chance. Neither of us will make it off this planet alive but I know you’ll fight anyway. That’s why I did all of this.”
“Why me? Why do I have to lead ISO? Why couldn’t you have stayed?”
“Because you’ll be a better leader to them than I ever could be. You were specifically chosen for this role so I know you can do it.”
Owyn rubbed his forehead with one hand. Getting answers hadn’t quite been the relief he’d expected it to be. All of this information had only added to the ever growing weight on his mind. “So I take charge of ISO and fight a war against the DPD. What then? Is there more to this plan? Because I can’t see how this leads to anyone being saved.”
“There is, but I couldn’t tell you what it entails. I’ve done my part, now you have to do yours.”
Before Owyn could wonder what he meant a bright red light started flashing on Ambrose’ belt, catching his eye. He instinctively stepped backwards and reached for his weapon. “What the hell’s that?”
Ambrose glanced down, saw the light, then immediately set off moving back towards the stairs. “DPD troops are closing on our position. We need to move.”
“Fuck,” Owyn cursed. “If you hadn’t blocked my comms we would have had a warning earlier than this.”
“Move. Now.” Ambrose wasn’t wasting any time. He was already halfway down the corridor.
Owyn tried his comms before starting running. They were still down. He arrived at the base of the steps just as all the lights went out. The lights on the side of his gun faded out as well. “EMP,” he muttered under his breath.
“That pulse took out every DPD weapon within a 15 mile radius of this position. It should buy us some time,” Ambrose said.
As soon as he mentioned the range Owyn was struck by panic. Sully’s jet was inside that radius, and an EMP would take out its engines as well. If he’d been hit then he was coming down – and it was a long way to fall.
Owyn sprinted up to the surface and frantically scanned the skies above. To the north, beyond the distant perimeter of the towers, was the jet. It was dropping near vertically downwards, moments away from hitting the ground.
He rushed straight past Ambrose but there was never enough time. Before he’d made it 100 feet the sound of the explosion ripped through the air, quickly followed by a wave of dense heat. Owyn stopped dead. He could see the flames rising on the horizon. A sick feeling rose in his stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. He clenched his fists and sped up his breathing, getting his blood pumping. This wasn’t going to be like last time – he was going to get there.
He expected Ambrose to try to stop him but he made no effort, and Owyn didn’t care to wonder why. Not letting another second slip away he stretched his legs and started running as fast as he could.
The dust beneath Owyn’s feet dragged him back with every stride. He tripped and stumbled but dragged himself up and pressed forward even harder. As he passed beyond the most distant tower the ground dropped into a slope. He tumbled down it, rolling helplessly under and over. A few wisps of dust found their way down his throat, sending him coughing and spluttering as he hit flat ground with a thud. Again he scrambled to his feet.
He could see the wreckage and the raging fire up ahead. The nose and wings of the jet had been ripped to shreds. Great chunks of hull were strewn across the desert floor. Shards of razor sharp metal protruded from the ground. A fraction of the aircraft still remained however. Much of the rear airlock was still intact, although wedged deep in a rocky crater formed by the impact.
Owyn reached the wreck and straight away began clawing at the broken fragments that were covering the way to the opening. They were burning hot but he didn’t care. He grasped hold of the largest chunk of metal with both hands and pulled with all his strength. His boots scraped along the bare rock beneath his feet. The pain in his palms was intensifying. Finally, just as it seemed his grip was going to fail, it came loose.