PLATE 3A, MARINER CLUSTER

July 14, 2092 - 10:01 P.M.

Farrah walked slowly between the rows of crudely-welded steel structures, closely checking each. From a distance, It looked she was walking among the ruins of some ancient civilization. Her pathway was lit up with hastily laid strips of red LED lights, their weak glow barely offsetting the sharp shadows cast by the sun.

“How many of these are now operational?”

Farrah rubbed her eyes. This row of mass drivers was her last stop for the day, and she was already exhausted.

“We have 97% up and running. The remaining ones should be completed by the end of the week, then we can move on to the next phase.” The factory supervisor, a stout middle-aged man in gray overalls, walked a little behind Farrah.

“Let’s conduct a test run of the entire battery by Saturday, then,” Farrah said as she touched the cold steel of the nearest mass driver. On test day, it will be ripping hot and threatening a meltdown. “Please start arranging the delivery of the CO2 snow coolant, too.”

The mass driver was a fairly uncomplicated machine, using superconducting magnetic coils to throw projectiles at its target, much like a modern-day catapult. Their designs were very similar to railguns, only vastly more durable and powerful. They were also incredibly efficient — they can harness pulses of power from the plates’ solar and thermal generators, and hurl ‘space bullets’ at incredible velocities thanks to the weaker Venusian gravity. These properties together make the mass driver an easy choice for defensive measures, especially in a rush.

But how effective these were against a fully-armored fleet, Farrah had absolutely no idea.

“By the way, how are your production lines? I read this side of Mariner had also been hit by that wave of sickness going around.”

“We had civilians who came in today to help with the staffing, but the call came out late and almost all were inexperienced. Production dropped by about 15%," the supervisor said tentatively, as if expecting to be rebuked. "We expect to be back up to normal the day after tomorrow, should the workers continue to get better,” he continued when there was no response. He then took out a tablet and pulled up a file, showing the day’s attendance. Almost all of the names were crossed out, and replaced with the names of those who went to work in their stead.

Farrah was just about to hand the list back when she heard a patter of footsteps behind her. When she turned, she saw Xander trotting down the pathway towards them.

“Wow, this place is dark,” Xander mused as he caught up. “Maybe we could swap out these red lights for something brighter? Hey, what you got there?” He reached for the list.

“Factory attendance,” Farrah answered. “Also, aren’t you supposed to be fetching Lira back from the museum?”

“Nah, she said she’ll be a bit late, so I thought I’d pick you up first. Huh, so attendance plummeted here today as well. No surprise there, I guess.” Xander flipped back to the attendance list for the previous days. “And it all started today, just like everywhere else.”

“Whatever caused it spread over the entire Cluster at around the same time. Something in the rations, perhaps?”

“Could be... Hmm, what’s this?” Xander turned to the supervisor. “You’re overseeing things around here, right? There’s this guy absent from your factory for the last four days. One Mr. Alvez,” Xander showed him the tablet as he scrolled through the previous attendance sheets. For each, a conspicuous red mark appeared beside the name Donato Alvez.

“Ah, yes, Donny. He called in sick this morning just like all the rest.”

“And the three other days?”

“He said he was also sick,” the man replied, “but frankly I didn’t believe him. He and his wife just got married last Tuesday, you see, and we thought they were just having a honeymoon of sorts. In fact they had just moved together into a bigger apartment unit on the first day of his absence.”

Xander and Farrah looked at each other.

“Why wasn’t this reported?”, Xander asked.

“Well I… I didn’t think that behavior was so unusual that it needed to be reported,” the supervisor shrugged.

“Maybe… but I’ve visited all affected factories today, and this is the only thing that stands out,” Xander replied. “I mean, it could very well be nothing but… Has anyone checked on him yet?”

The man shook his head. “Everyone else was busy at the factory.”

“Can you give us the address for Mr. Alvez?”, Farrah spoke up as she checked her watch. “I think it’s not yet too late to pay him a visit.”

11:04 P.M.

While Akatsuki was well known for its sweeping architecture, Mariner — the second oldest of the Veneran clusters — was decidedly more laid back. Its residential plates rarely exceeded five stories tall, and most were built to look like giant bungalows.

Xander landed the shuttle on the bay of one such structure. He and Farrah took an old elevator to the top floor, and headed down a narrow but well-lit corridor until they reached a door marked 4A.

“Well, I think we’re here,” Xander said before trying the doorbell. “Mr. Alvez? Good evening, Mr. Alvez,” he shouted into the door.

Xander’s voice echoed through the corridor, but there was no answer.

“Hello? Mr. Alvez? Donny? Hey man, I know it’s a bit late, but we need to ask a few important questions.”

“Ugh, maybe the doorbell’s broken,” Xander said as he tried knocking. The sharp sound of his fist rapping on aluminum rang through the entire floor, causing some of the other tenants, to peek out from their rooms and check what’s going on.

“We’re from the Field Marshal’s office,” Farrah chimed in as Xander continued to knock, both for Donny Alvez and the other people to hear. “I really think we should have badges, or something,” she whispered at her companion.

A couple of minutes passed, and still no answer.

“Do you think they’re asleep?”, Xander stopped knocking.

“Do you think anyone could sleep through that racket?”, Farrah quipped.

“So what do we do now?”

“Ugh. It’s pretty much the only lead we have on that sickness, so I say we chase it to the end. Call it a matter of national security,” Farrah replied as she backed up from the door.

“Yeah, but what do you suppose we do? We can’t wait here until… hey, what are you —?!”

While Xander was talking, Farrah swung her skirt and took a step backward. She then shifted her weight and snapped her right foot forward, sending the heavy sole of her boot crashing against the aluminum door, just above the NFC lock. The crash resounded like thunder throughout the floor, eliciting shouts of protest from those watching.

Farrah stepped back again. The first kick dented the metal badly, but the lock still held it in place. She kicked the door one more time, sending it flying along its hinge and slamming against the wall behind it.

Xander turned to the people who were now piling into the corridor, as Farrah disappeared into the room. “We’ll make sure this is replaced ASAP! Now please everyone step back, and thank you for your cooperation.”

He then ran into the studio-type unit, and almost bumped into Farrah who stood frozen on the carpeted area between the couch and the dining table.

When Xander stopped and looked, he felt his heart skip a beat. Lying on the ground just in front of Farrah were two bodies, male and female. They were both dressed in casual clothes, and their open eyes stared blankly into the ceiling.

“What…?” Farrah knelt down beside them to check their pulses. She then looked at Xander and shook her head in alarm.

“Go get emergency services,” Xander said as he knelt beside them as well. The bodies were still warm. He checked Donny's airway and was about to start CPR when Farrah grabbed his shoulder and pointed at the dining table.

On the table were the remains of a full meal — what looked like roasted meat and some vegetables, paired with an unlabeled wine bottle.

Seems pretty lavish, even a few days after their wedding, Xander thought as he proceeded to do chest compressions. He noticed that Donny's lips had turned an unusual purplish shade. Behind him, Farrah's communications bracelet flashed a frantic red as it sent an emergency beacon for first responders. She then knelt beside Donny’s young wife and tried to revive her as well. A terrified murmur grew through the crowd that had gathered at the door of the unit.

Emergency services arrived after about 10 minutes, retrieving the bodies and cordoning the area off. Meanwhile, Xander and Farrah lay on the carpet, devastated and exhausted after their failed attempt at resuscitation. Soon after, an inspector from the Veneran Gendarmerie arrived to interview them and gather crime scene evidence.

It was almost two hours before Xander and Farrah were finally left alone. The entire floor had been evacuated for the night until the police were through collecting evidence. Meanwhile, the two were allowed to stay in Room 4A to gather any clues related to the Mariner illness.

“Ah, crap. Lira’s gonna kill me,” Xander whined as he checked the messages on his tablet.

“Actually it would surprise me if she didn’t come down here herself,” Farrah replied as she browsed through the couple’s drawers and cupboards.

“Do you think this is the VLF?” Xander finally asked after a few more minutes. His voice was hushed, as if he was afraid someone else would hear.

“Who else could it be?” Farrah, on the other hand, was furious.

“Is that something we can prove?”

“Maybe, if you stop yapping and help me find something,” Farrah retorted.

Xander turned and pocketed his tablet. As he did so, his eyes glanced over the wide open door blocked by thick strands of red rope. Beyond it, against the wall of the corridor, was a shadow creeping slowly towards the entrance.

Xander felt his heart thump. He tapped Farrah and motioned for her to keep quiet. Then, with his hand in his jacket’s breast pocket, he started heading for the door with catlike steps. When we has just a few feet away, a man’s shaved head suddenly popped into view, as if he was trying to sneak a look inside the unit.

Unfortunately for him, his eyes met Xander’s as he did so.

“Freeze! Stay where you are!”

Damn, when did that ever work? Xander thought as the suspect ran off. He sprang up and tore through the security cordon at the door, with Farrah hot on his heels. 

But the man was much faster. He sprinted down the corridor and turned to the fire exit, disappearing well before the duo could see where he went. The stairwell led both up to the building’s roof deck, and down to the lower floors.

“I go up, you go down,” Xander said as he tried to catch his breath.

“It’s no use. Just get the gendarmerie on this,” Farrah grabbed his arm as she panted beside him.

“What? What happened to chasing the lead?”

“If that guy is VLF, and sent to finish something here, we’d likely end up like that couple. Except that we’ll probably be tortured for insider info first.”

Xander realized she was right. “This is getting out of hand,” he groaned as he stepped out to the corridor to make his way back to Room 4A. “This really isn’t the time to be dealing with hitmen and terrorists.”

“Yeah... And hell, I thought the war wouldn’t be for another three months or so,” Farrah spoke through gritted teeth as she followed. “But why are people dying off already?”