Lord Banshee Lunatic (Nightmare Wars Book 3) Read online

  Lord Banshee

  Lunatic

  Nightmare Wars Book 3

  by

  Russell O. Redman

  Copyright © 2019 Russell O. Redman

  All rights reserved.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank rebeccacovers for the great cover image.

  Credit: NASA image AS17-M-2444 of Mare Imbrium and Copernicus crater was taken during the Apollo 17 mission in December 1972.

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Throughout this series, I enthusiastically use surnames and personal names from around the world, every ethnic and national group I could find. None of these names imply endorsement or criticism of real people who share those names.

  Timeline by Chapter

  2357-03-20 08:00 – Cats in a Bag

  2357-03-20 09:30 – Into the Asylum

  2357-03-21 20:00 – Homesick

  2357-03-21 22:00 – Refugees

  2357-03-21 23:00 – Mapping the Outer Darkness

  2357-03-22 00:00 – Emigrants

  2357-03-23 20:00 – Hopes, Dreams, and Grim Realities

  2357-03-24 20:00 – Business Trip

  2357-03-25 20:00 – The Angel of Hope

  2357-03-26 01:00 – Private Hopes and Fears

  2357-03-26 03:00 – Father Paul

  2357-03-27 20:00 – Dance Music

  2357-03-28 03:00 – The Scouring

  2357-03-28 04:00 – Negotiations with Prejudice

  2357-03-28 06:45 – The Lonely Watch

  2357-03-28 09:00 – Battle Cry

  2357-03-28 11:00 – Duck or Run

  2357-03-28 12:00 – The Battle of WR35-23

  2357-03-28 13:30 – Lost Patrol

  2357-03-28 14:00 – Sodders

  2357-03-28 15:00 – Dark Enchantment

  2357-03-28 16:00 – A Taste of Civil War

  2357-03-28 18:00 – Funeral Pyre

  2357-03-28 20:00 – Rebirth in Fire

  2357-03-28 23:00 – Lunar Lunch

  2357-03-29 00:30 – Sanctuary

  2357-03-29 10:00 – Address to the Lunar People

  2357-03-29 10:30 – Waking Nightmares

  2357-03-29 21:00 – Open Questions

  2357-03-29 23:00 – Rags

  2357-03-30 06:00 – Hotstuff

  2357-04-02 02:00 – Nest of Vermin

  2357-04-03 01:00 – Look Homeward, Banshee

  2357-04-03 08:00 – Hundred Families

  2357-04-04 04:00 – Hope in Hell

  2357-04-04 06:00 – One of Us

  2357-04-05 16:00 – Escape from Peace

  2357-04-05 23:00 – Launch

  2357-03-20 08:00

  Cats in a Bag

  An insect fossilized in amber is beautiful, but an insect trapped in tree sap does not care about future beauty. It will be frantic to escape its impending death. I loved the Moon and because of that, I had to escape it quickly. In my mind, it glowed as a golden orb of necessity, a required stopover on the way to the Earth, a Step along the Path of my Mission. It was a gleaming drop of fragrant sap from the Tree of Life, deadly if I became stuck.

  Fairy dust seemed to carry its own vengeful adhesive. Every action we had taken on our long flight from capture had seemed like a victory but left us mired in deeper trouble as the Martian Imperium consolidated its grip on power. I had watched cockroaches on the Earth scramble from a trap with that same illusion of victory, unable to escape the glue that doomed them.

  We had managed to rescue the Ministers of the Terrestrial Council who were under our protection and transport them to the Moon for safekeeping. They could not remain hidden for long and would face a mass execution when their presence was uncovered.

  Cap Begum Thieu, in command of the Fast Attack Ship Columbia, had carried Leilani, Sergei, Raul and myself to the Terrestrial Defence Force advanced development centre Valhalla to rescue Alexander Pantocrator. Alexander had fixed my med monitor so I was in much better control of myself, but en route I had traumatized my team to the brink of suicide with my apocalyptic nightmares.

  We had captured a gang of pirates and rescued the farmers they had kidnapped from the Langara Unitary Viticultural Nursery. The farmers were developing medications able to survive the year-long transport to the Belt, a vital line of products that would ultimately benefit everyone. However, LUVN immediately became the focus for a struggle that threatened to explode into a genocidal war.

  We had fought through swarms of hostile warships on our return to the Moon until the Columbia had been destroyed. All but one member of the crew had been rescued, but the Imperium knew we were here and the Imperial Viceregal Fleet would arrive within hours.

  My Mission got harder and more dangerous with every passing minute. I had to escape the Moon quickly. Only the Earth was big enough to give me shelter, but I had no idea how to get there. Near-Earth space was filled with badly disciplined Imperial warships, who would fire on any ship suspected of giving me passage.

  Every Imperial intelligence service was searching for me, surely focusing on the earth stations through which I would have to pass. They would execute me. Anyone who protected me, anyone who worked with me, anyone I loved, would face the same sentence.

  Normally, I visualized my Mission as a branching Path of golden bricks, where each brick was a major action or decision I had to complete successfully. My image of the Path looped over rolling hills of grass, dipping behind a rise whenever I did not know enough to make realistic plans. It always ended in my personal Hellgate where I would face Justice for the atrocities I had committed on Mars. On the Imperial Cruiser Lansdorf, the Path had shrunk to a blazing line of razor wire threading a tornado of hellgate, since my only duty had been to survive a crisis in which I could be executed at any moment.

  Now, I could see the grassy hill with the churning vortex of my Hellgate beyond it, but there was no trace of the Path. I did not want to concentrate on that image because my imagination would fill it with tiny hellgates, any one of which could overwhelm me. I would also find a thin mesh of possible paths, littered with minor decisions, none of which led with any assurance back to the Path.

  I would not solve that puzzle today. I could only choose, moment by moment, the thread that best-served Justice, hoping for clarity before it was too late. So long as I continued to live and breathe, other things, ultimately less important, were more urgent.

  We waited in the lighter that had brought us to the Moon. The airlock door swung open. A squad of TDF stevedores hurried in, stuffed us into opaque body bags that filled with air so we could remove our helmets. They rushed us to the waiting bus.

  After we were clipped in place, a speaker built into the bag announced, “Welcome to TDF Station Orientale Tereshkova. I believe you were informed that you would land at Tycho London, but this site is better protected. We have a bit of a drive to reach the facility, so we ask you to relax. Each bag has sanitary facilities if you are not already hooked to a field station or medical unit. The bag has a touch-sensitive display in front of you that will allow you to contact each other individually. Cap Thieu has asked for privacy, so please leave her in peace for now.”

  Before I could reach the display, Begum rang me and I accepted the call. “Cap Thieu bloody did not request privacy. I just don’t want to be inundated with fools telling me how happy they are I survived. I need to know, how are you doing?

  “Brian, I’m sorry I agreed to let you travel on the Quetzalcoatl. From the reports, their lawyer and legal assistants are near collapse, there has been rioting within the ship, and it has been under attack from demented members of the Martian fleet. I couldn’t believe it when you voluntarily
transferred to the Martian warship! The whole trip was a disaster. It gave all of us heart trouble, so don’t do anything like that again! You hear me?”

  Me, “Hi, Begum. I solemnly promise that I will do far worse than that when I must, so please guard your hearts carefully and keep a doctor handy. The decision to bring me home on the Quetzalcoatl was a good one, right up to the point they decided to rescue the injured crew from the ships that had attacked us. The ship filled with people who hated each other and were terrified of laws and justice. I had other reasons at the time, but I’m glad I transferred to the Imperial Cruiser Lansdorf.

  “I’m also very glad we could give Agent Lakshmi-Lee direct contact with both Langara Unitary and the Martian corporations while we were coming home. If we all survive, that may be the most important development since the arrival of their fleet.”

  Begum, “What? The decrypts I have seen tell us that our rescue mission to LUVN triggered the fighting that nearly killed us! Since we did not immediately execute the pirates, the factions are accusing us of protecting them, of being in cahoots. Every ship that fired at us claimed to be defending LUVN from the Earth-pirates. And they are all shooting at each other in the same cause! Forward Command has been desperate to make them stop before they destroy the facility. Even Viceroy Wolong is ordering them to leave it alone. He says it is his personal property and threatens to massacre anyone who disputes his claim. It is insane!”

  Me, “Yes, I mean it. It is a complicated story. As always, their methods leave me gasping but I’m happy to hear that they are trying to protect LUVN.

  “In a closely related development, Surgeons MacFinn and Kaahurangi received permission to meet a significant selection of their Martian and Belter counterparts. They are working on starting a health service merging our respective talents and resources. You will want to read the summary, although the details get beyond me quite rapidly. I’m not sure how many people know about that yet. They gave me read-and-delete copies of each day’s report.”

  Begum, “Everyone tells me you have a good memory. Can you reproduce those documents?”

  Me, “Yes. I expect that is why they gave them to me. I’m sure the originals were confiscated by the Imperium and will remain classified until the new Viceroy issues an official pronouncement.”

  Begum, “I will wait for the special edition.”

  She was silent for a minute, then asked bleakly, “What am I going to tell his family?”

  Me, “Nav Potemkin? That he was a brilliant man, best in his field, respected by everyone, and a hero worthy of the Earth at its best. His last recorded words summed up the courage, compassion, and philosophy of a true officer. He will be greatly missed and you are humbled by his sacrifice.

  “Begum, you know all this. I’m sure you have said the words before. No one else needs to know that the entire crew refused to let you sacrifice yourself. The Eng in our room tried to volunteer until MacFinn ordered her to stop.

  “Every officer worthy of the rank chokes the first time they have to order someone to die on a hopeless mission. It is still your job to make that call. I know that next time you will rise to the occasion, conscious of what you are doing and careful in your choices.”

  Begum, “Did you, when it was your turn? I know from what you have said that you commanded soldiers before.”

  Me, “Yes, but not the first few times I sent my troops into a fight. It only became hard after I had cooled off and regrown a fragment of conscience.”

  Begum, “Can we talk about it, about how to do it?”

  Me, “Not here, not now. It takes too long. Can we talk about something less stressful for us both? What has happened on the Moon since I left the Columbia? I know only the tidbits that MacFinn and Kaahurangi passed on.”

  Begum, “Complete chaos and panic, in a very Lunar fashion. Every café, public square, and body-painting shop is filled with debaters, while the stores are empty and their owners in despair. The Council is in continuous session, all leave cancelled, the entire legal basis of government in question. The business community is frantic, desperately trying to register with non-existent authorities.

  “From what Katerina and Evgenia have been able to tell me, the Martians are completely unprepared to govern the Moon. The corrupt command economy that failed so badly on Mars will fail even more badly on the Moon and will destroy the planet if they force it upon us. The Council and the hidden ministry have been in constant consultations about how to make the transition, keeping as much as possible of the existing administration within a new power structure.

  “Viceroy Fenghuang is still inbound, but there have been preliminary contacts. Kat says she seems to be a likeable, sensible girl in her mid-teens with few opinions of her own about technical issues. She is advised by a Martian council that mostly seem reasonable, so we are hopeful that an accommodation will be possible. I have been told it is much worse on the Earth. Viceroy Wolong is her older brother, a willful, ignorant and arrogant teenage boy.”

  I asked, “How do they write Wolong and Fenghuang?”

  She paused, surprised at my change of topic. “In the decrypts, Wolong is written 卧龙, ‘Hidden Dragon’ and Fenghuang is 凤凰, ‘Phoenix’. I suppose that implies Wolong is the heir apparent.”

  “Dragon and Phoenix?” I wondered. “Like in every Chinese restaurant on the Earth? Who would give their children those names? I bet their parents called them Treasure and Little One. But I suppose they were chosen as formal names by people unfamiliar with the cultures of the Earth. They probably were trying for the male and female principles, like yin and yang.”

  Begum replied doubtfully, “Maybe. I would punch my parents in the nose if they had given us kids names so easy to lampoon.

  “Speaking of which, Katerina promises to punch you in the nose. She says you will understand. Then she will kiss it better, both the punch and the kiss as payback for what you delivered on the Hai Ba Tru’ng. Evgenia, Luciana, and Leilani told her to stand behind them in the punching line. Sergei and Raul demanded the privilege of holding you in place for the repeated drubbings. Maybe I should join the line because the Columbia was just as bad as the Hai Ba Tru’ng.”

  I felt a shudder run through me and the odd sensation that the Path was back, but on the far side of a hill blossoming with hellgates. We were both trying to joke but I could still hear the tension and hopelessness in Begum’s voice and her desperate need for distraction.

  I replied, “I was told that the passengers on the Hai Ba Tru’ng were quite excited. While I was passing through en route to the Quetzalcoatl I overheard two sisters who were fearful that the older woman would be executed without cause.”

  Begum, “That would be the Oxaquino sisters, Beatrice and Sashona. Don’t EVER refer to those women in the same sentence as the Hai Ba Tru’ng. The Emperor is apparently aware that the original Tru’ng sisters were Vietnamese aristocrats who led a popular rebellion against Chinese rule that threw them out of the country for three years. Since he bases his cult on classical China, he is offended that we even have a ship called the Hai Ba Tru’ng. Katerina claims they were the detonator that blew up the ship. To call the younger sister pugilistic is to miss ninety percent of her fighting talents. They are the two that have earned you a punch in the nose.”

  I protested, “But I was supposed to be asleep, so I never said anything or moved a muscle. That was Doctor Toyami’s work...”

  Begum, “Fairy dust, Brian! You set poor Luciana up to be your Messenger of Hope and launched her as a ten-megaton, self-targeting, psychiatric missile. Your fault, all of it! She was equally effective in stirring up the Columbia, but better focussed because most people spoke with her in person and more than once. Unfortunately, most of them were pirates, even more terrified of justice than the farmers who joined Superintendent Rouseth on her killing spree.

  “Apparently, Luciana had to heal Rouseth twice, once on the Columbia while you were there and once again on the Moon, for two different emoji mechanisms. The seco
nd one required some code changes to handle a back-channel in our device control systems intended for indirect control of multiple devices, like all the lights in a room, but was being used for the attack...”

  I interrupted, “Tell that to the Captain and Poloff of the Lansdorf right away. They may be under the same kind of attack.”

  Begum, “Done already, when we sent them the LE token. We also warned them that older comm units are vulnerable if their OS had been updated in the last two years. They were grateful, but not as happy as we had hoped. There is something weird that they wouldn’t explain. They have kept control of their own part of the fleet, but seem to have fallen under suspicion because of it. Does that make any sense to you?”

  Me, “Maybe. Remember, we had to restore the urgency emojis to ensure that high-priority messages could be recognized? They were using a wider selection of emojis as part of their command and control so the absence of emojis in the stream may result in important commands being missed or misunderstood. Alexander’s new system allows custom sets of emojis while screening to ensure that the emojis were attached by the sender. They probably want to talk to ACC about getting an update.

  “But Begum, there is someone you have not even mentioned. How are things with Raul?”

  There was a deathly silence.

  Me, “Begum? What is wrong?

  Begum, “Nothing. That is how things are. Nothing.”

  Me, “What happened?”

  Begum, “It was a mistake. We have no future together. I don’t have a future at all.”

  Me, “Slow down. That is a conclusion. It is not what happened. Tell me what happened.”

  Begum, “I am terrified. I am more frightened than I have ever been in a fight and it never lets up. I have been scared continuously since the nightmares. Whenever we were together, all we could think about, all we could talk about, was the fear. How long before they find us and kill us. I have not spoken to him since we got back to the Moon.”

  Me, “Begum, that has to change. Raul loves you and is horrified by the risks you face. I expect he is close to hysteria by now. I doubt he is getting proper support. Most people won’t be aware of his agony because he seems to go calm and unresponsive under stress. I saw what he was doing when you were on the Hammerhead, when he thought the darkness gave him privacy. Raul spent that trip in desperate prayer for your safety.”