Hex Cycle I: Prologue

3030 CE: Lunar Capital Nautlyz-Korh

Governess Tethyz headed down a metallic corridor toward her teleconference chamber. She was accompanied by two Colonial Gardz whose silver-plated pauldrons and blue ceremonial capes made appear very imposing. Yet ‘twas no mere peacocking. Because although the innermost enclaves of the lunar capital were secure under Tethyz, rebellion was afoot throughout Lunah.

It’s best not to take any chances, thought Tethyz. The self-proclaimed Lunatyx had lately become a thorn in her side. Recent mass migrations from Earth were beginning to destabilize the social fabric of a formerly booming society. Though it could hardly be helped; Terrah was still overflowing with humans despite its highly unstable climate and many ‘Earthers’ took it on faith that a better life awaited them on the moon. Pure lunacy!

Over the last few centuries, hundreds of habitats had exploded to thousands. The moon’s population was at about a quarter of Earth’s twenty billion and it was noticeably overburdened. Continuous excavation had generated a wobble in the natural satellite’s orbit — but everyone ignored it the same way as global warming had been denied no more than a millennium ago on Earth. Yet even when those who fell to the elements on Terrah numbered in the millions, humanity pressed on stubbornly.

Tethyz knew that an imperial flagship was on its way from the terrestrial capital of Zyberyuh. This was no courtesy call — the ship’s military complement had been commissioned to address the growing civil unrest. Surely Earth’s Empress Atharvanh wanted Tethyz to quell any insurgency on her behalf. Imperium Terrenum; that’s what they called it. A no nonsense totalitarian state that spanned from near Western Europa to far Eastern Asia. One at a time, competing continents had fallen and bent to the will of the new planetary emperors. Latin came back en vogue as a global lingua franca out of sheer necessity. English had fallen out of favor following the defeat of America and its closest allies during World War III. The First Solar Imperium already encompassed Lunah, Marz, and the asteroid belt between Marz and Joveh.

As she passed through the last set of sliding doors, Tethyz gestured for the spherical holographic display to come online. A short range radar scan revealed an incoming longship, command carrier class. A black eagle’s head cast in profile with the blue-green globe of Earth for its eye and a sunny crown was the Imperial seal painted proudly onto the gilded ship’s upper ‘mast’. Along both flanks, blue track lights pulsated softly to convey that carrier’s name: Azoþ.

An alert blinked, indicating to Tethyz that her scan hadn’t gone undetected. She was being hailed, and so she answered. The Azoþ’s bridge now filled the holo-sphere and the moon’s Governess recognized General Mythrah, a man of dour disposition. He greeted her curtly:

“Sol Invictus to you, Tethyz of Nautlyz-Korh.”

“May Imperium Terrenum abide eternal, oh General Mythrah.”

These greetings were a routine formality. Wasting no more time, Mythrah proceeded with an inquiry regarding the matter at hand:

“Word has it that Lunah has become a hotbed of radicalized terrorism. Am I to understand that this is in fact the case?”

“I’m afraid that it is, General. A dangerous faction whom call themselves Lunatyx has been seduced to sedition by a Prophetess rumored only as ‘the woman in the well’. We’ve had a spate of eight attacks on our exports of late.”

“Yes, I’ve read your report to Empress Atharvanh. Let me be explicitly clear: she will not tolerate this affront to her eminence nor any further disruptions to the supply chain. I’m here as the official executor of her sovereignty. Six legions stand ready aboard the Azoþ, waiting to be dispatched into your sublunar tunnels. They are charged with tracking down this upstart Prophetess along with her ringleaders. Wherefore Tethyz, I would have you provide my underlings with any information you have that might assist them in apprehending these agitators. Do not fail me.”

“You can trust me with that task, General Mythrah. Please instruct your pilots to land in the spaceport at Mareh Frygorh — the access shafts in crater Platoh lead quickly to the hollow center of Nautlyz-Korh.”

The General nodded his acknowledgement and the call was ended. The holographic sphere reverted to showing Tethyz the ship’s exterior, but she shut it down altogether. She had to go back to her main office to gather updated intel on the Lunatyx and their latest movements. Her spies were hot on their trail but those damned Lunatyx proved to be extra pesky. It didn’t help that many of them came from the working class of excavators. Nobody else knew the inner workings of the moon’s labyrinthine passages better than they did. However, they would soon to find themselves cornered by the General’s Imperial forces, who weren’t known for their leniency. Public executions were common, and Empress Atharvanh’s proclivities were disturbingly gory. Tethyz shuddered to think what might happen to her if she disobeyed Mythrah’s orders. Her largely ceremonial Selenite soldiers were certainly no match for his seasoned Terrah troops.

Obedience was of course, compulsory. Nonetheless, in the back of her mind Tethyz considered that perhaps the equivocal Lunatyx did have a valid point. After all, the moon was being stripped bare and she already had very little left to give. Precious minerals were sent back to Earth in bulk just to buff up the stock market portfolios of Earth’s richest plutocrats. As if that wasn’t enough, they wanted to start sending civilians beyond the moon to the nearest asteroids to harvest more gold and other exotic elements. Atharvanh’s decree was univocal: the whims of Terrah’s ruling elite took precedence over anything or anyone else.

Von Karmanh (dark side of the moon)

Prætor Omnoz had set up camp on the far side’s surface because these days almost everyone dwelt deep within the interior. He was poignantly aware of Empress Atharvanh’s machinations, but unbeknownst to her, the Lunatyx’s leader was an exceedingly resourceful privateer. It was equally significant that the free men and women in his collective would readily lay down their lives in defense of Lunah. They would definitely not go without a fight—and they now numbered in the tens of thousands. Enough was enough. There was no high noon on the moon but a reckoning was coming soon…

Safely enclosed inside a globular series of airlocks, Lunatyx section heads were convening to hear what Omnoz' orders would be. Yet they would have to wait longer since Ztellæ-Thagnoz (Omnoz' second-in-command) had brought up summons from the lunar South pole. The woman in the well was requesting Omnoz’ presence at this most crucial juncture. A treacherous trip to the glacial caps was something that everyone avoided if they could help it. Even Ztellæ-Thagnoz (a hardy excavator) hadn’t enjoyed that journey but the Prophetess wasn’t known for communicating through conventional means. Each of the Lunatyx was called in turn by another who had already heard the oracle speak; going back generations to the first of their kind.

That first encounter remained shrouded in mystery. According to legend the original ‘lunatic’ had been only a lad. Ever since, this cult had grown steadily, gaining popularity among both natives and newcomers. Omnoz himself had been born in orbit—a scion of wayfarers. Still, as his people shuffled between Lunah’s inner domes and the outer satellite rim, he grew up hearing rumours about the nameless Prophetess. Hence, he’d waited his whole life for a chance to meet her, although the current timing felt somewhat inopportune. Nevertheless, one couldn’t turn down a collect call from destiny.

Omnoz and Ztellæ-Thagnoz approached the greater assembly hall together. There must have been at least a thousand leaders of the Lunatyx crammed tightly into this tin can auditorium. Their banter subsided to silence as the duo drew closer. In unison they were saluted with a customary: “Huzzah!”

“Good brethren,” opened Omnoz. “As you have made me your Prætor — it is my duty to coordinate our defensive against Atharvanh’s thugs inside the tunnels surrounding Nautlyz-Korh. Rest assured, all the dominoes are already in place and need but a nudge to be set in motion. However, another devoir beckons.”

Omnoz turned the floor over to Ztellæ-Thagnoz, who confirmed:

“The woman in the well calls for Omnoz. I have heard her with my own ears. She has also told me that a time of tribulation is upon us. We will fight and many of us shall purchase a better future for our kin, although it’ll come at the cost of our own lives. Yet fret not, we’re in the right, as time itself will undoubtedly tell.”

There were murmurs of assent coupled with nodding heads. Prætor Omnoz addressed the crowd again:

“Ztellæ-Thagnoz is in charge during my absence. I think each of you knows what role you are to play when the time comes. Most of you have spoken with the Prophetess and been apprised of your fate by her soothsaying. Await my signal then, for whatever my final destination, I shall certainly send it. Begin your dispersal and stand by for my order. May Lunah prevail!”

Jointly the Lunatyx echoed: “May Lunah prevail!”

They began dispersing in an orderly manner. Although from their midst came a blonde señorita whose muscular legs and toned upper body bespoke the scouting corps. Zaghah, Omnoz thought clearly. She picked up on it:

“Well hello you old scoundrel,” Zaghah scolded sweetly. “Aren’t you forgetting something before you go? You know that the Prophetess loves fresh dates brought from Terrah.”

Zaghah gave the Prætor a small wooden box — priceless on Lunah — so that he wouldn’t arrive empty handed. Omnoz stashed the box in his backpack and brought Zaghah in for a kiss, putting his hands around her ample waist. She took his palms and placed them on her buttocks instead, advising him:

“Hurry back to the warren, jack rabbit!”

They kissed deeply and at length before waving reluctant goodbyes. Zaghah might have wanted to accompany Omnoz, but this pilgrimage was the kind one must make alone. Omnoz went to the exit where Ztellæ-Thagnoz stood waiting. He reminded Omnoz:

“Your transport is ready to go in the aft bay. Don’t forget to bundle up either. It’s freezing like the ninth ring of hell down there. I loaded your trunk with thermal packs and provisions. Ration them all. Best of luck.”

They clasped hands as comrades and departed. Omnoz’ transport was a rover fitted with caterpillar treads. On its side was airbrushed a woman (not unlike Zaghah) wearing a diesel-punk outfit complete with ray-gun. Beneath, her name was scrawled on a scroll: La Dolly Vita.

La Dolly Vita carved through the lunar landscape quite quickly. It helped that many miles of said moonscape were paved with regolith road. This didn’t mean that there were no dangers out here. On the contrary! Rogue meteor impacts were the moon’s equivalent to lightning striking; highly unlikely but not entirely uncommon. There were also rilles where magnetic anomalies could scramble circuitry — therefore the need for this rover’s EMF shielding. These were just two reasons why living within Lunah’s interior was preferable to those emigrating from Terrah.

Life inside the moon was rather similar to city life back on mother Earth. Oxygen was surprisingly plentiful and massive UV domes fostered agriculture as well as recreational parkland. Unfortunately, the day to day drudgery of the plebeian struggle precluded most from enjoying such luxurious amenities. Everyone had a part to play as another cog in the proverbial machine. Apart from excavators, there were myriad other occupations available to fill. But excessive waste and rapacious fracking had started to take their toll on the inner environment. Humans extracted minerals only to replace them with excrement and poisonous pollutants. Moonquakes now occurred with increasing frequency.

The temperature dropped drastically when Omnoz entered the valley of Mynnærth. The sun’s rays never alighted upon this polar region. Omnoz flicked on his floodlights and the videoscreen connected to cameras outside revealed dark blue glaciers. The terrain here was no longer easy to navigate, yet Omnoz maneuvered through it using his piloting instincts. Shivering, he fed a thermal gel pack into the ventilation system. It’d taken him about six hours to reach this area coming from Von Karmanh and it took three more before he beheld the cavernous craters of Antonyuh. A transponder pinged a beacon that gave a reliable indication of the Prætor’s position relative to his objective on this mission. At last he parked the vehicle in an open space near the mouth of a profound pit.

At a wide entryway, an innocuous bio-scan beam read Omnoz’ unique signature and permitted his ingress; titanium gates rattled open. Omnoz passed the airlock into another antechamber where he was met by a sextet of Selenite soldiers loyal only to the woman in the well. They welcomed him and took his coat before extending an invitation into the sanctum sanctorum. An oaken portal embedded in bedrock led to even stranger terrain. Vestigial volcanic rifts were harnessed here for their warm output. Vapor vented evenly from below and the ambient lighting was mellow. Omnoz descended a gradual incline that went down for a good long while. Finally he came to a pinewood gazebo ensconced by genetically modified moonflowers.

Herein a woman sat waiting, covered head to toe by a silky veil. Solely her wispy white hair and milky blind eyes were visible over and through said veil. The Prophetess arose off a tripod, approaching the front steps of her dais. Omnoz knelt there and offered up the box of dates. Frosty hands accepted it after a curtsy but she didn’t speak yet. Instead, a crooked index coaxed the Prætor to follow her.

A short distance away from the gazebo there was a fenced-in section abuzz with beehives! The bees began to swarm about the aged crone (reputedly two hundred years old). As those insects rallied around the woman in the well, her voice shrilled:

“Prætor Omnoz, scion of the wayfarers Davz & Melah, longtime hath I anticipated thy arrival. Much more hinges on thine advent than even thou realize. For yea, Lunah herself must perish in order that ye may people the whole solar system, commencing with Marz.”

Shocked to hear this, Omnoz couldn’t help prying:

“Who told you about my plan to sabotage the inner core of Nautlyz-Korh? Ztellæ-Thagnoz perchance?”

“None need tell what is easily visible to one bereft of physical sight, yet gifted with true vision. The chain of causation wast put into effect untold æons ago, leading inexorably to the sequence of events presently unfolding. I see thee and know thee, cyclically and eternally. We art bound in this moment and forever more. Thus defined one might divine any future design.”

“I apologize for my presumption High Priestess, but also prithee inform me, aught else ought I expect during the upcoming conflict?”

“Dost thou hear that Omnoz? A far-off echo in the emptiness — like a single drop in a still pool — rippling outward. Loudly it tells me: the Dregvant draw nigh. Evil lovers of the lie!”

“Dregvant you say. Why have I not heard of them prior to today?”

“Because thou hast been fortunate until now. These Dregvant twist truth beyond recognition. They rename everything its opposite so as to proliferate confusion and spread ill will everywhere. In this wise they foment enmity among all decent, goodly folk. Divide Et Impera — effective as always. They be no mere idealists either. I didst gaze into the heart of one General Mythrah, who wouldst not hesitate to mount thine head on a pole. Yet thou shalt frustrate his vicious stranglehold. Doth not permit him to sully langue with false parole!”

Ergo Omnoz swore an oath:

“No quarter will be asked for, nor any given. I shall lead the Lunatyx against those foul foes and see them defeated then outward driven; even if our hallowed Lunah must be riven.”

Thence the Prophetess proclaimed:

“The era of prophets is ended! Henceforth mankind’s garden on distant Marz wilt be tended. Hath no fear stellar child, though thy lunar cradle shouldst be rended.”

Without another word, Prætor Omnoz began making his way back to La Dolly Vita.

To Be Continued...

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