Five Moons of Pluto

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Authors: Andre Jeter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FIVE MOONS OF PLUTO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GATES OF OLYMPUS

 

             
Orin chases Nelson down a dark New York City alley. Both men are in great shape, tan and muscular, and they have the same physical features—the same chiseled jawline, blue eyes, and dark blond hair—with the exception that Orin is slightly taller and better looking.

Nelson jumps and climbs up a fire escape with ease. Orin
follows closely.

             
They jump from rooftop to rooftop with the swiftness and agility of Olympic athletes. Nelson leaps from one of the rooftops and crashes through the window of a random apartment, with little regard for his own wellbeing. Paintings, clay pots, and buckets of paint lay scattered around the room. Nelson runs through, assessing the artwork around him for the briefest moment.
Awful
, he thinks as he slams open a door and bolts through.

             
Nelson is running down the hallway when Orin throws a bucket of blueish-green paint with such extreme force that it knocks Nelson down to his knees. The aqua color splatters all over Nelson’s face and body before spilling completely onto the floor. That’s when Orin takes his shot. Seeing Nelson finally appear vulnerable, Orin unleashes a series of combinations on him; some of the blows connect but none are effective at doing any real damage to Nelson, who simply absorbs most of them, seemingly unfazed.

             
Nelson wipes his hand into the paint and smears it across Orin’s face, blinding him. Gaining enough momentum to get off his knees and stand, he thrusts himself forward and crashes into Orin. Nelson pushes the weight of his body against him, making his way with him back toward the window. Orin is weak and defenseless when Nelson kicks him out of the window, and he falls to the ground below.

             
The fall is not very far but is just enough to put Orin down for a while. Nelson looks out of the window, down at Orin as he lies on the ground. A crowd quickly gathers, and Nelson leaves.

 

****

 

              Nelson opens the door to his apartment, so far unscathed. The apartment is neat and clean. He throws his keys in a clear dish and checks through his coat pockets. Something doesn’t seem right; he thinks he might have lost something.

             
Suddenly, Nelson feels a blow to his face. It knocks him backward and he nearly blacks out. He manages to squint, and he sees Orin’s blurry figure standing over him, his fist clenched in a furious rage. Orin thrusts his fist forward, striking Nelson in the nose. His other hand grabs at Nelson’s throat, his palm enclosed around it. 

 

 

             
Struck twice now, and with little breath remaining, Nelson is in excruciating pain. His head drops down to the floor, and he feels like he wants to relent. Orin then turns him over with ease, grabbing him from behind and submitting him in a choke hold.             

“H
ow many of you came?”  Orin grunts in his ear, but Nelson remains silent. “How many?!” He squeezes Nelson tighter.

Nelson manages a breathless gasp. “We found you, traitor.”

Then, in one swift, smooth motion, Orin snaps his neck.

He stands over Nelson for only a moment before going to the bathroom to wash off the paint. He walks
over Nelson’s limp body on his way back out and stands by the door. Before stepping out, he throws Nelson’s wallet, his I.D card, and two small round devices toward Nelson’s body. Then he leaves.

Orin is driving down the block when a
n explosion bursts out from the apartment window. Red flames race from the window, then billowing smoke. Orin turns on soft jazz music and continues driving.

 

6 MONTHS LATER

 

              The automated blinders open, letting the sun’s rays in to shine upon Orin’s face. He covers his face with a pillow to block them, then peeks out from under the pillow and turns his face, just slightly, to carefully look out the window. Thick white clouds travel peacefully across the sky. Cruisers fly silently up high on the sky highway.

             
Orin smiles to himself, glad that he didn’t buy the house closer to the skyway. Sure, it would have been a shorter commute to and from work, but he loves the long drive along Hollow Lane, looking down upon the trees that dot the perimeter of the lake, where he had proposed to the woman he loves.

             
Slowly, Orin gets himself out of bed, guarding his face from the sunlight as he walks to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror and touches the scar on his chest, then he opens the mirror and slides open the back panel. He sticks his hand into the wall and pulls out a small, circular metal dish. He checks first outside of the bathroom to make sure he’s alone, then he presses the button on the dish and it slides open. Orin dips two fingers into the sticky white substance and gently applies it to his scar.

             
He closes the dish, placing it back inside the nook in the wall, then he closes the mirror behind it.

 

****

             
Orin steps into the kitchen, fully dressed in his Gatekeeper uniform. It is white with black stripes down the sides. His jacket fits like a turtleneck, and he wears white boots, his pants covering them to the ankle. He wears his Gatekeeper badge on the right side of his chest.

Orin
walks over t
o
Sahra, an attractive woman with long blond hair that falls in a sheet past her thin shoulders. He wraps his arms gently around her and kisses her on the neck. He breathes in the delicate scent of her perfume, allowing the aroma to take him back in time. He remembers immediately the first time they met, where they had coffee and scones at the Skyway Café, and where they watched the Starworks show later that evening.
Wonderful memories
, he thinks to himself.

Still, he wants to forget them
. But the scent will forever haunt his memory.

"A
re you just going to stand there sniffing my neck all day?" Sahra says, giggling. Orin kisses her on the cheek and smiles. 

"It's hard to resist. You know
, I wrote a thesis in college about how they manufacture the perfume you're wearing." Orin pours himself a cup of coffee.

"Do tell,”
Sahra says.

"Well
, there are three known ingredients that make up your perfume. Two of them come from a plant on the planet Vera 5, and one of them is poisonous so it must be extracted at night while the plant protects itself from the deadly Crocos insect.” He watches as Sahra smiles at his intelligence. “The other ingredient comes from an animal on the planet Ulros, called the
Wargus
." Orin pours half-n-half into his coffee and stirs it, then he continues. "Combined, this concoction was used not only as a truth serum against the humans during the Repla Revolution, but also as a deadly virus that destroys the nervous system." He sits down across from Sahra and takes a sip of his coffee, reveling in his knowledge of outer-world plants and animals.

T
hey both laugh. 

"Y
ou almost had me, you know,” Sahra says.

"I
t's the truth, I swear," he tells her, and they both stop laughing.

Orin
gets up to open a cupboard, and he takes out a small box. Sahra shakes her head.

"I know
, babe, but this is important." He hands her the box. "You are very important to me," he says.

Sahra
opens the box and pulls out a long necklace with a tiny crystal pendant shaped like a diamond but stretched longer at the end. “How much did this put us back?” she asks him sternly.

“Hey, no regrets, remember?

“No regrets.” 
Sahra smiles hesitantly.

"I love you
, Sahra."

She smiles more convincingly this time and
hugs Orin tightly, then she touches her palm to his chest. She feels something—something different about her husband.

Orin gently moves her hand away from the
scar.

 

****

 

Orin leaves his house and looks up into the sky. He can barely see it, but he knows it’s there: The Olympus Gate. It’s a dome that surrounds the entire planet, built right after the Repla Revolution, with only four entryways. With the dome, Olympus is now the most impenetrable planet in the universe.

             
Orin gets into his cruiser, waves goodbye to Sahra, and flies off.

             
Orin is comfortable driving his cruiser, and he loves the speed, but after just a short time driving, he pushes a button that engages the autopilot. He then reclines back and looks up at the sky through the sunroof.

He is much closer to the dome now, so close he can see the metallic pillars combined together to form an octagon shape that stretches across the length of the sky. He can see the maintenance ships doing repairs and checking for structural damage on the dome.
Orin thinks for a moment of the light radiation emitted by the pillars—harmless only to Replas, and the atmosphere. He turns his attention back to the men working.

“Couldn’t pay me enough to for that job,” Orin says out loud to himself.

The pillars are made from a special metal, unique to the planet K7623. It takes three months to melt down the metal; once it’s melted, it must remain in its liquid state. If the metal returns to its solid form, it will remain that way forever—no matter how long it is kept in the smelting pot. Not eve
n the fires from Olympus’s yellow sun can melt this metal once it’s returned to solid. It never rusts, never ages, and it is unbreakable.

And so the planet Olympus will forever be caged.

 

***
*

 

The parking lot is nearly full at this time in the morning, and the sun is blinding against the pavement. Orin lands his cruiser and rubs his eyes as he steps out. He walks toward the Skyway Café, noticing how it hasn’t changed since the first time he met Sahra.

Sitting at a table
for two is Vina, her long thin fingers lifting her teacup toward her soft pink lips. She spots Orin with piercing, emerald green eyes as he walks toward her. Then she stands to greet him.  

“Good morning, Orin,” she says rather curtly. “How are you?”

Orin’s facial expressions do not react to her words. He sits down easily and says, “I’m fine.”

Vina
sits back down as well and crosses two long, silky legs together. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“No, I’m not hungry.”

She takes a sip of her tea and looks at it. “My word, this has got to be the most fabulous tea I have ever tasted! You must try some.

"You have—“ Orin looks briefly at his watch —“
ten minutes."

Vina
smiles. “Very well. I believe everything is in order and ready to commence?”

“Of course.” Orin’s lips twist together, and his brows furrow. How insulting of her to even ask!

“Spectacular,” she says. “The Council will be very pleased to hear about it." She then places a package on top of the table and slides it slowly toward Orin. "As requested."

Orin takes the package and gets up to leave.
Vina stares at him as she takes another sip of her tea. Her face becomes angry.

"Was it worth it?
” she asks, stopping him in his tracks. “Was it worth it to betray the people you swore to serve and protect?"

Vina's
words sink deep inside him, like heavy stones.
Serve
and
protect
—words that he will never forget. Words that he once lived by and should have died by. He turns around and looks sternly at her, a warning for her to stop. But Vina continues.

“If it wasn’t for the Grand Commander
, you and your
Sahra
would have been obliterated long ago.” She stands up and walks towards him, then she gently touches his face. “What happened to you?”

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