11 Ambush

The moon mites are stirring as Ying-Tai begins to despair and lose hope. Meanwhile, topside, the mine’s commander, Captain Amos Trankwell, is concerned that the daily quotas have remained unfilled for the past five days. Amos decides to take his troops into the dark to investigate.

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SPEAKER_00 0:00

The author of the Exodus series is intentional about avoiding profanity and explicit sexual content. However, this episode does contain scenes of violence that some listeners may find disturbing. Listener discretion is advised. Yorbin sat undisturbed throughout the second day, and again there was no food or yellow pills sent down. Most of the inmates kept busy preparing more weapons or refining the ones already made. Ying Tai exercised, keeping her muscles and strength ready for the battle ahead. She tried to ignore thoughts of moon mites, probably now starting to come to a semblance of activity. Everyone ate a little food and drank some water at the end of the day before falling asleep on their stone beds. Morston made Otis take first watch and warned severely that if he found he had fallen asleep, he'd flay his fat carcass alive. Otis nodded his head and did as he was told, never bothering to argue with Morston. The third day was quiet, and the bin sat empty and silent. Most of the prisoners slept, or took a clue from Ying Tai and exercised as much as possible on their empty bellies. As the end of the day approached, and again no food was sent down, a few of the inmates began to complain. The rotten plan, a large, hairy man said under his breath to his companion sitting nearby. The skinny man next to him nodded absently. Shut your trap or I'll gut you like a fish. Morston stalked into the chamber and glared at the man. Ying Tai sat watching them as she fingered one of Gecko's sharpened discs. It's been three days. The hairy man glared at Morston. Not another word out of you. Morston smacked a stone club in his hand and came and stood over the man. You start anything. He didn't finish, but continued smacking the club in his hand and walked off into one of the tunnels. Ying Tai allowed a small smile to stretch her lips.

SPEAKER_01 2:26

Somebody's getting anxious.

SPEAKER_00 2:28

A slim, dark figure shuffled over to where Ying Tai sat and slumped to the ground. Gekko's dark, stringy hair hid his eyes. He held up a long, surprisingly thin, stone sword shaped like a katana. She nodded at him. May I? Ying Tai asked, reaching for it. Gekko handed it to her. The handle fit perfectly in the palm of her hand, and she held it out in front of her, feeling the balance. How did you make the blade so thin? She asked. Others had tried, but their blades broke too easily. I fashioned the length of the blade parallel with the stone's green rather than across it. Allows for a thinner blade while retaining maximum strength. She held the blade vertical and ran her hand along the thin blade as if caressing a lover. A sharp pain made her pull her hand away from the blade, and she examined the thin cut along her palm where blood began to ooze. And sharpness. Gecko smiled at her in the dim light. Yeah. Thanks for the warning. She wiped the blood on her tattered, now dull grey, brownish outfit. Do you have time to make another? What for? He didn't get the hint. She thought she was being obvious. Oh, I think I could put it to good use. I made it for you. She looked at him in surprise. What about you? I don't plan on getting that close. I prefer to kill from a distance. He removed from a worn pocket three razor-sharp stone discs in the shape of stars. She swung the blade, testing. You sure? He smiled beneath the shadow of his hair and nodded. Your gift will not go to waste, she said, swinging the blade through some offensive moves. He lifted the hair from his eyes and smiled at her. That's why I'm giving it to you. A loud bellow broke the calm. Gecko and Ying Tai instantly adopted defensive postures. Ying Tai noted the absence of the large hairy man and his companion. Following Gecko, she darted from the chamber toward the source of the yelling. They found the large hairy man chasing the skinny man around the stone dining table. Jake, you thief. I'll kill ya and eat your spleen. The hairy man lunged at the smaller man across the table. The smaller man jumped back from his outstretched claws. Heh, it was just a piece, Ollie, he said. Calm down.

SPEAKER_01 4:52

I I couldn't help it.

SPEAKER_00 4:55

A guttural growl was all Ollie could make as he put up on top of the table and leaped at his friend. Up until a few moments ago. I ran out, and you've got more than you need. A small man named Jake dodged around the gathering crowd. Some of the spectators smiled and some laughed at the free entertainment as Ollie chased after his thieving companion. As Ollie came charging around a group of onlookers, Morston seemed to step from the shadows, rushing directly at Ollie. His hand swung in a blur, and when Ying Tai heard the sickening crunch, she knew he'd swung his stone club. Ollie flew backwards, landing in a heap against the dark stone wall, head no longer recognizable, with one side smashed in. He let out a final grunt of air. Morston stood like some hellish angel over the inert body. Everyone, return to your holes. No more outbursts. Dead silence gripped everyone as they stared in horror. First at Ollie's body, and then at the monster, Morston. Now he growled. Ying Tai turned to go, following the rest of the prisoners back to their holes. Gecko! Your watch. Morston pointed the club at him. Before Ying Tai left the chamber, she watched Morston leave, club hanging from his meaty fist while Gecko headed toward the shaft. The humorous scene, now a nightmare, was forever engraved in her mind. All of the good natured laughter snuffed out like a candle in a windstorm. She almost didn't see Jake shuffle toward Ollie's body and stand over it. Whispering, he said, Sorry, Ollie. You should have just let it go. He turned and glanced at Ying Tai, smirked, and scurried down one of the passages. Ying Tai gazed at Ollie's corpse. The hole. November ninth, twenty ninety-seven. Earth time. It's been four, almost five days, since we received any ore from the hole. Captain Amos Tranquil said, sitting back in the creaking metal chair. Moon Mine 9's warden, Devin Blunderberg, or Dev, as everyone called him, nodded absently, his attention focused on a contingent of new slaves advancing down the access tube to the prisoner processing chamber. The prisoner monitoring room was relatively small, and Tranquell's back pressed up against one of the dingy walls. To his left was a window looking out at the moonscape. Opposite, Dev sat at a hole display table shoved up against the wall. Trankwell's eyes roamed around the tiny space. A thin layer of dark moon dust seemed to coat every surface, including the walls that had a smudged appearance from years of moon dust accumulation. Even the ceiling, once white, was now dingy and gray. He brushed absently at a sleeve of his uniform, smearing the dark grit into the fabric, and looked with utter contempt at his boss. The cloud dossier of a haggard blonde woman hovered above the display console. She'd obviously been poorly treated by whoever had captured her, but that didn't seem to deter Dev. To Trankwell, she appeared emaciated and had a number of bruises and a shiner over one eye. The warden continued to ignore him and scanned the holo display. His eyes glittered with repulsive lust as they moved across the woman's dossier. Trankwell noted she'd been captured for some crimes against the state and petty theft. Trankwell knew she'd end up a plaything for Dev and some of his disgusting friends. It wasn't unusual to see a female prisoner just disappear after a night with Dev and his friends. Fury boiled up in Trankwell. He brought his fist down on the console with a crash. Dev jumped and glared at the warden. Have you heard a word I said? Trankwell asked, with his fist still resting where he'd slammed down on the console. Dev eyed the man's face and then looked at his clinched fist. Mind yourself, Captain. What about what I said? Dev's eyes narrowed. That's not really my concern, as much as it is yours, Captain. If quotas fall, then I shall hold you responsible. Tranquil shoved himself back from the console and glared at Dev. What the hell do you think I'm trying to tell you? He folded his arms and glared at Dev. The quota is short by almost fifteen hundred tons. Because we've had no ore from the hole. It's been almost five days. Dev's gaze wandered back to the holo display, and Tranquell fought the urge to reach across the console and strangle the lecture. The dossier of the blonde had vanished after fifteen seconds. Dev cursed and looked up at Tranquell. Look, Captain. He pointed a finger at Tranquell across the desk. If they haven't sent no ore, then I trust. They also haven't been fed. At least that's the standard procedure. Correct? Of course. Dev leaned back with his hands behind his head inches from the grimy back wall. It also means they've not had the yellow pill. Trankwell grunted, and Dev continued as he gazed through the viewport at the dark sky glittering with stars. I'm sure they're all beginning to feel the mites awakening by now. Don't you agree? We've had hunger strikes before, but they usually only last a few days. This one has lasted longer than normal. I'm concerned. These aren't ordinary moon slaves. Captain. I wouldn't worry too much. If they don't starve to death, then the mites will take care of them. Franquille wasn't so sure. He had a hunch that something else was going on. His gaze followed Dev's out the viewport where he saw the stream of prisoners traveling through the access tube in the distance. He guessed there were nearly two hundred men and women being herded by guards toward the moon mine. It wasn't unusual to receive two such shipments of slaves each day. He watched a skinny man trudge along with a prosthetic leg struggling to keep up. One of the guards appeared to be yelling at him, and grabbed him by the neck and shoved him forward. The man stumbled and fell across another man in front of him. Another guard appeared from the side of the wall and began pummeling the two men with the butt of his gun. Tranquell pulled his eyes from the brutality back to the mine's warden, who'd sat forward again and brought up the dossier on another female slave. But why the sudden work stoppage? Tranquil asked. How should I know? Dev said, pulling his eyes from the display and peering up at his captain. Has there been any report of a cave in? Dev's brow knit together. I'm certainly unaware of one. I'd have to check on that. Tranquil kept his gaze steady as he spoke. It'd make my job a little easier if I knew what was going on down there. He attempted to mask his contempt for the despicable man operating the holo display console. Dev's eyes narrowed as he focused on Tranquell. Well, Captain, I guess you're just gonna have to go down and find out. Trankwell's face turned red and he opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Dev interrupted. Captain, I wouldn't say anything you'll regret. A thin smile of triumph spread on Dev's face. I think you've forgotten just who's running things around here. He leaned back in the chair and steepled his hands below his fat chin. I'd certainly hate to see you stripped of command and thrown into one of the mines. He gestured toward the viewport. Tranquil's jaw clinched and he felt the muscles in his cheek quiver. Dev sat forward. Now Captain I suggest you round up a team of troops and make plans to go investigate. I'll find out if there's been any seismic activity in the region and let you know. Tranquil spoke in a tightly controlled voice. Yes, sir. No more than ten troops should be needed against starving, weak prisoners. They're probably close to hysteria by now if they haven't already been devoured by the mites, Def said, once again turning his gaze toward the prisoners below. You'll probably only find a bunch of corpses. Tranquil turned to go. That's wishful thinking. It took more than five days for the mites to devour a body. He'd only seen it happen once and shivered at the memory of seeing the body as it was dissolved over a period of several days. Not a pretty sight. The light hadn't changed. Dark gray stone walls and ceiling defined the prison. The deep blackness of the shaft loomed before her. A snake-like tendril writhed somewhere inside her stomach, and tiny vibrating pinpricks seemed to cover her skin. Involuntary shivers crawled up and down her spine. She swallowed and forced herself onto her feet. She reached behind her for the pillar, finding support as her leg muscles protested at being awakened. The worm inside her stomach shifted and the writhing sensation faded. Yeah, yeah, still dormant. She tried to reassure herself. It had only been six days since the last yellow pill. She tried to talk herself into believing that the mites were still dormant. You're just hungry. That's what it is. This thought brought little comfort. If the guards didn't come soon, the great plan of escape would all be for naught. Many of the prisoners were close to cracking up. With all the weapons that had been made, a small skirmish was likely to break out. Reduced numbers of inmates because of internal conflict would reduce their chances for success in escaping. She considered another factor. When the guards finally investigated, weakness from lack of food would play a major factor in the battle to escape. Ying Tai began to pace, keeping one eye focused on the shaft. The only way she breathed in deep. Tasting the metallic dust and smelling the cool, stale air. The cavern was deathly silent. Everyone was asleep. As she passed where she had been sitting, she saw the sword Gecko had given to her. She reached down and grasped the comforting hilt and looked in shock at her right hand. A layer of grey dust coated her skin. Streaks of paleness seemed to glow where sweat had left a trail. She examined her nails. Thin black lines of moon dust lay trapped underneath ragged edges of what used to be finely manicured nails. Cuts and abrasions lined her fingers and the back of her hand underneath the ubiquitous moondust grime. A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she gripped the sword tight and continued pacing. Only the sound of her worn-out boots grating on the gritty surface broke the stillness. With one eye continually returning to the black shaft, she paced back and forth, trying to keep her thoughts off of moon mites and slow death. A loud crash, like a gunshot, shattered the fire. Sword raised vertically before her. Like a shadow, she slipped into the tunnel to awaken the other inmates. As she passed the sleeping poles, she wrapped on a wall with a small stone. Most of the prisoners immediately came forth, rubbing and blinking tired eyes. Ying Tai pressed a finger to her lips and said, It's time. They're coming. Like an army of zombies awakened, her fellow convicts retrieved their weapons fashioned from stone and quietly raced to pre-appointed positions. Over the past few days, many new man-sized nooks had been carved out of the rock walls as places of concealment. As Ying Tai raced back toward the shaft, she smashed every other light hanging on the cabin walls. Other prisoners did the same. The passages and cavern grew darker. Ying Tai found her hiding nook and secreted it herself. A glance around the edge revealed the still dark empty shaft where the attack would come from. Adjusting her enhanced vision, she looked around to make sure all the convicts were in position. She could just make out Dex hiding inside his crevice. He signaled her with a raised thumb and she returned the gesture. Gone for the moment were thoughts of moonlight and hunger. Captain Amos Trankwell spread his legs for bounce and held up his fist. He tapped at a keypad on one arm and the platform stopped its descent. He gripped the guardrail on the still swaying lift and peered over the edge into the blackness of the shaft. The platform had hit something, knocking it askew. He saw nothing. The echo of the falling rock still clung to the cold vertical shaft, and he looked up at his troops.

SPEAKER_01 20:18

What the hell was that?

SPEAKER_00 20:20

He asked over his helmet intercom. He scanned his team of eleven men and women outfitted in light combat armor with weapons locked and loaded, standing on the still swaying platform. Blank helmeted faces stared back at him. The platform must have swayed into the wall, knocking some debris loose. One of the troops responded into Amos's earbud. Amos grunted. Sounded like a landslide. He lowered his fist and gave the signal to continue the descent. The platform continued to plummet into the black abyss. He nodded his head, trying to reassure the team. But years of combat experience stirred a warning deep inside that not all was as it seemed. He checked the digital readout on his 12mm longarm automatic for the hundredth time. The blue digital display shone dimly in the dark, telling him it was ready for action. He felt the smooth barrels reassuring deadly weight in his gloved hand. Each of his team members was equipped with the same, including five spare magazines with a hundred full metal jacketed rounds each, and six pellet grenades. A weak, starving, weaponless rabble won't stand a chance. Amos shifted his weight from one foot to the other until he saw a dim glow along the shaft's wall. He glanced over the side. He turned to his team and gestured the ready signal and felt the platform bump to a rest. Each trooper aimed their long arm into the dim cavern. Amos consulted a digital map on his helmet's HUD or heads-up display. The main mining cavern stretched out before them, punctuated with a grid of stone pillar supports. There was no sign of life. The cavern was completely empty. The dark rock walls filled with geological folds and wrinkles created ominous-looking shadows. A glance at the map the warden provided warned Amos that it wasn't going to be very useful. Looks like someone's been doing some interior design. One of the troops quipped. Indeed, the entire cavern appeared radically altered from the map he'd been given. There were numerous tunnels branching off the main cavern, not shown on the map. Amos swore. He told Dev that routine inspections would allow them to keep current maps for just such an occasion. His counsel had fallen on the deaf, sleazy ears of the mines warden. Amos swore again and signaled to his troops to fan out. The option, or rather, order from Dev. The forego encumbering the troops with costly biodetection equipment now seemed like the epitome of myopic bureaucratic decision making. Amos cursed the warden and stepped off the platform onto the hard cabin floor and led his poorly prepared troops into a trap. Twelve soldiers? She ducked back behind the stone. Almost too easy, she thought. Except for their automatics. The strategy she'd explained to the rest of the convicts was simple. Wait for the troops to divide up and move past the hiding places, and then surprise them from behind. The troops didn't seem to have any special detection equipment and were relying on their own combat sense. Too bad for them. She watched as one of the armored troopers walked past her hideout, looking ahead. He pivoted his head away from her and then turned and looked right at her. She stiffened with anticipation as the helmeted figure seemed to stare right through her and then walked on. Ying Tai smiled to herself. Snuck around the stone pillar, and checked to make sure he remained unobserved. With stealthy grace he moved toward the shaft. He stopped short and peered around another pillar. A trooper stood next to the platform lift, weapon casually dangling from a hand. As if by magic three stone throwing stars appeared in Gecko's hand. He watched patiently, still as a rock. He watched the lone trooper turn in his direction. The trooper paused a moment, as if he had spotted something that wasn't there before. His hand began to slowly raise the long arm, perhaps thinking with slow movements he wouldn't spook his prey. Gecko flicked his wrist before the soldier's rifle was chest high, and three stone stars embedded themselves in the trooper. One buried itself in his armored chest over the heart, and the other two sliced through the plastic faceplate of the trooper's helmet. The trooper moaned and swayed. Gecko dashed over and caught the man before he crashed to the ground. Something wrong. He heard no words, but just a soft whisper of breath. Still no reply. Amos felt a brick land in his stomach. His skin prickled beneath the armor's inner lining. He thought he heard something behind him and felt his anus crawl into his abdomen. He turned to look. Out of the corner of his eye, a number of dark humanoid shapes emerged from the shadows and proceeded to slaughter his men with dark, crude weapons. Its arm blurred in motion and swung something at him. By the time he realized it was a long stone blade, his head had been separated from his body. If you crave rebellion, high stakes heists, and lunar warfare, this science fiction audio drama will leave you breathless. Read the entire Exodus five book series. Available wherever digital and physical books are sold.