The bus had barely reached the Depot Road entrance ramp when it came under sniper fire. There was a loud tap against the vehicle roof as the vehicle turned onto the ramp; I didn't recognize the sound for what it was, the ricochet of a bullet, but Mr. Garcia did. He yelled for Tolley to step on it, and he responded by flooring the accelerator and sending the bus down the ramp at breakneck speed.
I glanced through the rear windows to see that the two escort Rangers had jumped off the rover. Crouched beside the ramp, they raised their carbines and returned fire, covering our escape. Gordie and Sam were still in the back of the rover, and it looked as if Gordie was trying to find a gun of his own when both vehicles hurtled into the garage. Its doors were already open, and they shut as soon as the Rangers ran down the ramp behind us. Nonetheless, no one breathed easily until the dust scrubbers kicked in.
A med team was waiting for us in the garage. As soon as the bus came to a halt, Mr. Garcia opened the hatch and let them aboard. I half-expected Hannah to be among the medics who carried away the stretchers, but she wasn't. Which was probably just as well; I'd lost too many friends today, and wasn't quite ready to see her again.
"Get out of your suits and leave them here," Mr. Garcia said as Nicole, Mahmoud, Hans and I climbed out. "We'll have someone carry them back to the Ranger ready-room. I want the four of you to go straight to the shelter. Find your families, get a bite to eat, grab a nap. You'll be back on duty soon enough, and I want you rested by then."
I couldn't even think of doing anything except finding my sister, but I nodded and followed the others from the garage. Since the solarium had been sealed off, the elevators were no longer operating; we went up a short flight of stairs, then through a pressure door leading to one of the mooncrete corridors that honeycombed Apollo's underground levels. The corridors were crowded with loonies; it seemed as if everyone had urgent business of one sort or another, and none of them paid much attention to four exhausted, battle-weary Rangers making their way to the storm shelter.
The shelter was packed. What had once been an immense room seemed to have shrunk, now that nearly a thousand people were living there. The floor was lined with plastic cushions arranged in uneven rows, with translucent curtains hung from the low ceiling to provide a modicum of privacy. Some people lay upon their makeshift beds, reading or trying to sleep; others sat with their backs against the walls or simply wandered about as if looking for somewhere to go, something to do. Families clustered together, while individuals had found friends or coworkers to keep them company. The air was thick with the stench of too many people bunched together, and hundreds of voices speaking at once produced a cacophony that was almost deafening.
It took a while for me to find Melissa. It wasn't until I happened to run into Ms. Lagler, who was ladling out soup in a breadline, that I knew where to look: a remote corner of the shelter, where she and Mr. Lagler had pitched camp along with the Rices. When she told me that, I knew that I'd find Nina there, too.
I made my way through the crowd until I located them. I'd never seen my sister like this before. Sitting in the corner, legs drawn up against her chest, she held Nina in her arms. As I came closer, Melissa looked up and spotted me. For a second or two, she stared at me in shock, then she hastily pushed Nina aside, scrambled to her feet, and rushed toward me.
"Jamey!" she shouted, sailing into me so hard that she almost knocked the wind from my lungs. "Oh, thank God, you're alive!"
"Yeah...yeah, you too." I held her tight. "Are you okay? Did you...?"
"I'm all right, I'm fine, I..." And then she broke down, and all I could was hold her and let the tears come. In that moment, I'd somehow become the older sibling. At least it felt that way; I was giving her comfort, not the other way around.
I waited until she stopped sobbing, then I led her back over to the cushions she and Nina were now calling home and sat down with them. Nina was as stoical as always, but I could tell that her brother's death had hit her hard. It didn't look as if either of them had slept at all since the attack: there were dark circles under their swollen eyes and their faces were wet with tears. They'd probably been crying for hours, and both were scared to death.
It took a bit of prodding, but I finally managed to pry from them what happened. Eddie and Melissa had been working in Ag Dome 2--and, as always, Nina was there, too, to shepherd her brother--when the attack came. They'd been through numerous evacuation drills, of course, so when the alarm sounded, they immediately dropped what they were doing and headed straight for the underground tunnel leading from the farm to Ammonius.
"We were almost there when Nina fell..." Melissa said.
"I tripped," Nina said, correcting her. "Someone left a wheelbarrow in the aisle, and I fell over it."
"Uh-huh, yeah. And it wouldn't have been so bad except..." Melissa shook her head. "There were so many people, and everyone was trying to get to the tunnel at once. So when Nina went down, I couldn't see her at all. I could hear her yelling, but..."
"There were people stepping on me, pushing me down." Nina stared at the floor. "I couldn't get up. They were trampling me."
"I was in the tunnel entrance, but I couldn't get back to her. Everyone was pushing against me, and they wouldn't get out of my way. And someone was shouting, 'Hurry, hurry, the door's about to close...'"
"Eddie was behind me." Nina spoke calmly as if she was describing something she'd seen in a vid. "He picked me up and tried to run forward, but there were too many people in the way." She raised her hands above her head. "So he...he just threw me..."
"I couldn't believe what he did!" Melissa's eyes were wide; even in the retelling, she was plainly astonished. "Maybe it's because...I dunno, maybe because she just weighs less here, but...Eddie just pitched her like she was a football or something, right over everyone's heads, and I reached up and caught her, and then we fell back into the tunnel, and then..."
"The doors shut." Nina was still staring at the floor. "We were the last people to make it into the tunnel before the doors slammed down. And a couple of seconds later..."
"There was a huge boom from the other side and...and that was it. The missile hit, blew the whole place up." Melissa slowly let out her breath. "Eddie was still in the farm, along with everyone else who didn't get out in time. But he saved Nina, just like when you..."
"I know," I whispered. It was if a pit had opened in my stomach. Eddie saved Nina's life very much the same way our mother saved mine when I was an infant; the similarity couldn't have been more obvious.
"I...I...I..." Melissa shook her head. "Oh, God...Jamey, I'd made so much fun of him, and then he...then he goes and does something like this, and I..."
The tears came again, and this time some of them were my own. I told them about Logan and how he'd died, and then the three of us huddled together, arms around each other, sharing our misery with each other.
I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and I looked up to find Hannah standing behind me. I don't know how long she'd been there, but it didn't matter; she already knew what happened to Eddie, and she'd just learned about Logan, too. In any case, words were unnecessary, our parting argument forgotten. I stood up and took her in my arms, and we were that way for a long time until Melissa joined the circle, and then Nina, too.
Six kids had left Earth. Now we were down to four. All I could do was hope that we wouldn't lose anyone else.
I wasn't very hungry, but Hannah insisted that I eat something, so I let her take me back to the communal breadline that had been set up in the middle of the shelter, where we each received a bowl of vegetable soup. Several rows of folding chairs had been set up nearby as a dining space, and while we had lunch--or was it dinner? I wasn't sure--I told her everything that had happened since the last time we'd seen other. It wasn't until I was done, though, that I recalled the way she and I had parted company.
"So..." I looked down at the paper soup bowl in my hands. "Sorry about how our first date is turning out," I murmured, not sure what to say next.
"Sure know how to show a girl a good time, don't you?" She said this with such a straight face that I thought she was serious. But then she forced a smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll come up with something better next time."
"You want there to be a next time?" I asked. "I mean, the last time we talked...y'know, I think I said something stupid..."
"Maybe you did. Or maybe I just took it the wrong way. I don't know, and I don't care. I'm just..." Hannah closed her eyes, shook her head. "I'm just glad you're still alive, that's all."
"Yeah. So am I." I didn't mean it to come out that way, and for a second we stared at each other in awkward confusion. Then both of us started laughing, and that was it. Apologies given and accepted.
We might have hung around with each other for a while longer, but Hannah had to get back to the emergency clinic set up on the other side of the shelter, and I desperately needed sleep. So we promised each other a real date once everything went back to normal--I wasn't sure it would, but there was no harm in pretending--and then I returned to where I'd left Melissa and Nina. My sister had found a spare cushion for me while I was gone; I unrolled it beside hers, lay down, shut my eyes, and did my best to sleep despite the constant noise around me.
I thought I was going to sleep through the night, but that didn't happen. I was awakened by a hand gently shaking me. "Jamey...Jamey, get up," a voice said quietly. "There's something you need to see."
I woke up to find Mr. Lagler kneeling beside me. "What's going on?" I asked. "Are we being attacked?"
"No, nothing like that." The ceiling lights had been dimmed, so I could barely see his face. "We've received a netcast transmission from Earth. Loren Porter is putting it up on the big screen."
Rubbing my eyes, I sat up to look around. I wasn't the only one being awakened. All around me, others were being prodded out of sleep by their families and friends. "What's so important that...?"
"It's from the White House. I don't know what it's about either, but Loren says that it concerns us."
I didn't like the sound of that, so I clambered to my feet. The ceiling lights were being turned up; there were groans and muffled curses as the room became brighter. At the far end of the shelter, the immense wall screen had been lit. Wondering what this was all about, I started making my way toward it, doing my best to step around others who were still getting up.
I was about halfway across the room when I found Hannah. She looked as if she hadn't slept at all, and I didn't have to ask why; she had probably been spending her entire time in the infirmary, taking care of those who'd been hurt by the missile attack.
"Do you know what's going on?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No...but I don't think it's going to be good news." She slipped her hand in mine. "C'mon. I want to get closer."
We continued to make our way toward the screen. By then, almost everyone in the shelter was awake. Nicole caught up with us; she hadn't slept much either, but at least she'd calmed down. I spotted others I knew--Gordie and Sam, Gabrielle, Billy and his uncle Don--and they seemed to be just as bewildered as everyone else.
We'd just reached the front of the room when the screen lit. Mr. Porter appeared on it, a giant peering down upon the loonies gathered in the shelter. "Good evening," he said, his voice coming from the ceiling speakers. "I apologize for having awakened those of you who were asleep, but this is too important to wait until morning. Just a short time ago, a government netcast was transmitted to Apollo. This netcast was carried throughout the United States and was probably seen in most other countries as well, and apparently originated in the White House. I could tell you what it's about, but perhaps it's best that you see it for yourselves." He paused. "Here is the President of the United States...."
He disappeared, and the screen went blank for a couple of seconds. Then President Shapar appeared. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit, a flag pin on her right lapel, and she stood at a podium with the presidential seal on its front. The background was a featureless wall, but I didn't think anything of this until Hannah hissed under her breath.
"That's not good," she whispered to me. "Whenever my father addressed the nation, it was either from the Oval Office or the Treaty Room." She nodded toward the screen. "She's doing this from a bunker under the White House, next to the Situation Room."
Lina Shapar began to speak.
"My fellow Americans, I'm speaking to you regarding a matter of national importance. As you are no doubt aware, during the past three months our country has been faced with an embargo of vital lunar resources that was imposed upon us by the International Space Consortium, an organization of which the United States was a charter member. This action was clearly taken by the other ISC countries in an attempt to take control of the helium-3 necessary for the continued operation of America's nuclear fusion plants...."
Angry murmurs from around the room. Again, Lina Shapar was twisting facts, trying to make it seem as if the United States was the hapless victim of an international conspiracy. "Our response has been to demand an end to the embargo and to withdraw from the ISC," the president continued. "Our efforts to reach a diplomatic solution to this crisis have been ignored. In the meantime, our country's energy reserves have begun to run low. As a result, we have had little choice but to use military force to break the embargo.
"Earlier today, special forces units from the United States Marine Corps landed on the Moon, where they mounted a two-prong attack on Apollo, the ISC mining facility at Ptolemaeus Crater, and also on Cabeus Station, its support facility located at the lunar South Pole. The effort to take control of Apollo is still underway, and we expect positive results. However, the unit which attempted to take control of Cabeus Station was attacked by a superior force already in place there. I regret to say that this unit was defeated, with its members either killed or taken prisoner.
"Since then, we have learned that the enemy force at Cabeus Station included soldiers from the Pacific Socialist Union. Through their actions, it is now clear that the PSU is rendering aid and assistance to the ISC embargo. Our government sees this as a dangerous provocation by the PSU, with their actions at Cabeus Station as tantamount to an act of war."
As President Shapar spoke, the camera gradually moved in, her image slowly expanding until the podium vanished and her face filled the screen. I'd always been unnerved by the way she stared at the camera without blinking. Now it was worse. I realized that I was looking into the eyes of a fanatic.
"The United States will not tolerate these efforts to undermine our national security. Therefore, as President of the United States, I am issuing an ultimatum to both the PSU and its allies in the ISC. Complete and total control of Apollo must be given to the United States. Any refusal to do so will be considered a signal of hostile intentions, and will result in a declaration of war on the Pacific Socialist Union.
"Good night, and may God bless America."
I barely heard the president's last words. Everything she'd said before then caused the sheltered to erupt. All around me, people were yelling; every face I saw was contorted in shock, anger, or horror. I was still staring at the wallscreen when Hannah nudged my arm and said something to me. I couldn't hear her, so I shook my head; she put her mouth closer to my ear.
"You're getting a call," she repeated, speaking louder this time.
I glanced at my wristband. Its beep couldn't be heard above the noise, but a light was blinking next to its speaker. I raised my wrist to my face. "Jamey here."
"Jamey, this is Loren Porter. I need to see you immediately. Come to MainOps at once."
"Yes, sir. I'm on my way." I switched off, then looked at Hannah. "I've got to..."
"Hold on." Hannah had just received a call as well. She listened to her wristband, made a brief response much like my own, then took my hand again. "He wants me, too. Let's go."
Leaving Nicole behind, we began to pick our way through the crowd. It wasn't easy. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once; I spotted a couple of men in an argument so intense that a third guy had to step between them before fists started flying. Others were crying; we passed a woman who'd gone down on her knees to wrap her arms around her children. And some were just staring into space, their mind's eyes seeing a terrifying fate they were helpless to prevent.
No one paid attention to Hannah and me, and we finally managed to get out of the shelter. It was a quick walk down the corridor to the Main Operations Center; we were obviously expected, because Mr. Garcia was waiting for us outside. "C'mon, guys," he said, opening the door for us. "We've got a job for you."
Hannah and I traded an uncertain look as we followed the Chief through the door. MainOps wasn't as calm as it had been the first time I was there. Controllers were barking orders at each other as they stared at their comps or the images on the wallscreens. A quick glance at the screens caused me to stop dead. Figures in moonsuits, each of them carrying a carbine, were advancing toward the cameras. One look at them, and I knew they weren't Rangers.
"Are we under attack?" Hannah had also stopped to gaze at the screens.
"Not right now. At least we don't think so." Mr. Garcia pointed a map projection of Apollo; from the hills to the east, one small group of red dots were moving toward Loop Road, while another group appeared to be heading toward Krantz Road. "It looks as if they're getting into position. They're preparing for another attack, but it probably won't happen quite yet."
I glanced at the door we'd just come through. "I need to get down to the ready-room to suit up for..."
"No, you don't." Laying a hand on my shoulder, Mr. Garcia gently but urgently pushed me toward the nearby conference room. "We have a much more important task for you. And your friend Ms. Wilford can help."
Mr. Porter was waiting for us in the conference room. So were two men setting up a portable vid camera and its recording equipment. The city manager walked over to us. "Jamey, thanks for coming so quickly. I don't have to ask if you saw President Shapar's speech, do I?" I shook my head. "Good. Then you know she's lying, right? About what happened at Cabeus, that is."
"No sir...I mean, yes sir." The anger felt by others in the shelter was beginning to rise in me as well. "That wasn't the way I saw it. They..."
"Good. But don't tell me about it. Not just yet, at least." Mr. Porter pointed toward the camera. "I want you to do something for me...for all of us. I want you to stand over there, in front of the camera, and give your side of the story. Don't exaggerate, don't make it sound any better or worse than it was...just do what the president didn't do, and tell the truth."
It was if someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water in my face. "I...I don't...why...why do you want me to...?"
"First, you were there. Anything I might say would be only second-hand information, so it would better if it came from an eyewitness. Second, you're an American. Mahmoud is from India and Nicole is a loony, and the others are either wounded or from other countries. You're a US citizen, though, and that matters. And third--" he grinned "--you're a good-looking kid, and in that department, I'd pit you against Lina Shapar any day of the week."
I'd never thought of myself in that way before, but from the corner of my eye I saw Hannah smile in agreement. Mr. Porter turned to her. "You've done this before, so I want you to coach him...not in what to say, but how to say it. Do you think you can do that?"
"Sure." Hannah studied me for a moment. "He's kind of a mess, though. Maybe we should clean him up a little first."
"No." Mr. Garcia regarded me critically. "Less than ten hours ago he was on a battlefield. I want him to look the way he does now...like he just came from Cabeus Station."
I still wore the same clothes that had been under my moonsuit for the past two days, and I'm sure I must have smelled something awful. "Shouldn't I rehearse this?" I asked. "Maybe write it down so I don't forget...?"
"No time for that," Mr. Porter said. "I want to transmit this to Earth as soon as possible. The US government will probably block our signal, but they can't prevent it from being picked up elsewhere and put out on the net. But we've got to act fast, before Shapar can get any mileage from her speech." He grinned again. "We've got her right where we want her...caught in the middle of a big, fat lie."
"Uh-huh." Mr. Garcia nodded. "She doesn't know it, but she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life." Looking at me again, he raised an eyebrow. "Here's your chance, kid. Do this right, and you can stick it to the president of the United States."
I didn't say anything, but instead looked at Hannah again. There was a cunning smile on her face as she slowly nodded. We both had personal reasons to make Lina Shapar suffer; our opportunity to do so had just arrived.
"All right," I said, "let's do this."
So I stood in front of the camera while Hannah took her place directly behind the guy operating it; he bent low so that I could see her face. She told me to ignore the lens and look straight at her instead, and to speak as if I was talking only to her and no one else. While the sound technician took a few minutes to adjust the levels, Mr. Garcia quietly excused himself from the room, leaving Mr. Porter behind. When the technicians were ready, I took a deep breath, counted to three, and then began.
"My name is Jamey Barlowe," I said, "and I'm from Burtonsville, Maryland. I'm a Ranger Second Class, ISC Lunar Search and Rescue, and I was at Cabeus Station when it was attacked..."
I went on to describe everything that happened, starting with the arrival of the Cyclops unit and continuing through the battle that followed. I was careful to mention that the Cyclops leader fired the first shot, and that he killed the Ranger who'd gone out to negotiate a peaceful ceasefire. I explained that my team was rescued by PSU soldiers who'd come to our aid, and until then we were unaware that they were present. When I said this, Mr. Porter made a rolling gesture with his hands--tell us more--and I added that the Pacific Socialist Union had nothing to do with the helium-3 embargo. Then I revealed what the Cyclops leader had told us after he and the other surviving members of his unit were taken prisoner: that they weren't Marines, but rather private mercenaries who'd been hired to do the dirty work.
I stopped, uncertain what to say next. It suddenly occurred to me that this vid would soon be seen by millions of people; the realization made me self-conscious, and I started to look down at the floor. Hannah whispered my name and I looked up again to see her pointing two fingers at her eyes. Talk to me! she mouthed. Behind her, Mr. Porter was rolling his hands again, more urgently this time.
I hesitated, then went on. "So...anyway, it's like this. President Shapar is lying. She isn't telling the truth when she says that the PSU is behind all this or that Marines were sent to the Moon. She wasn't there, but I was."
Again I paused, although not as long as I did before. "My best friend was killed in that battle, and all he was trying to do was to protect Apollo's water supply. Another friend of mine died when Ball North fired missiles at Apollo from orbit, and he was just trying to save his sister. A lot of other people up here have died, too, just because President Shapar wants...well, I'm not sure what she wants, but she's not going to get it. Because we're going to hold onto to what's ours, and we're not going to let go."
I stopped, not knowing what to say next. "Cut," Mr. Porter said, running his forefinger across his throat. "That's fine, Jamey. You did well."
"Really?" I didn't believe him. "I thought I sounded stupid."
Hannah practically danced out from behind the camera. Before I could do anything, she swept me into her arms and planted a kiss on my lips. "No, you didn't," she said when she let me come up for air. "You were perfect."
"I was?"
She nodded, her eyes shining. "Trust me. Lina Shapar is going to die when she sees this."
"Yeah, well...maybe. If we don't die first."
"No one is going to die." Mr. Porter leaned against the conference table, arms confidently folded across his chest. "Trust me. They've done their worst. Now all we have to do is sit back and wait for it to end."