Morning Star

By Bill Leviathan

In space, no one can hear you whine about your job. Pete, Brian, and Kelly toil day after day to send Earth's hazardous waste away to be burnt up by the sun. After dealing with the garbage every day, they return to the surface and a world reeling from the aftermath of a civil war. Tired of complaining to the emptiness of space, they devise a plan to get back at their oppressors. What started as a prank turns into a struggle between life and death, liberty and enslavement. After spending their lives on the sidelines, all three are thrust onto the field, the star players in a geopolitical showdown.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Leviathan
• Release date: Aug 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781536545739

Bill Leviathan

Bill Leviathan lives and works in Washington, DC. Writing is his creative lifeblood. A big fan of cheesy, over-the-top action movies, he tries to capture this in his writing. The grumpier and more reluctant the hero, the better.

Book preview

Prologue

The sun began to rise over the horizon, casting long shadows over the village. The village itself was only just beginning to stir. Some were taking their garbage out to the waste compactors, others began feeding their livestock, and others began feeding themselves and their families. Most of the village still slumbered as the chill night desert air warmed with the coming of the morning sun.

From the east, a cloud of dust could be seen rolling towards the village. The air was still, no breeze to be felt. Something was approaching the village.

Mommy, what is that over there?

I’m not sure, Abigail. The waste collectors aren’t supposed to be here for another two weeks.

The woman handed her bag of feed to the child, instructing her to continue with the morning chores, feeding the chickens and checking on the coops. The woman made her way toward the center of the village and approached a painted mud-brick building in the center of a square, the largest building in the entire village. The woman knocked on the door, a thin piece of wood with crooked edges that only just fits within the door frame. The door shook and wobbled as she knocked. The shaking of the door within its frame made more noise than her knuckles pounding on the wood. No one answered.

John, are you there? Wake up already. the woman shouted.

The woman continued to knock on the door, looking back over her shoulder toward the approaching cloud of dust. A few moments pass, and the door opened. A man stood in the doorway, nothing but a thin piece of cloth wrapped around his waist.

Yes, Mary? What is it that you need so early in the morning? the man said.

John, someone is approaching the village. Do you know who it is? Mary said.

No, I have no idea who it is. The next scheduled arrival isn’t for another two weeks. Hold on, wait here and let me get ready real quick, John said.

John closed the door and left Mary to wait outside. She leaned against the side of the building, looked out over toward the cloud of dust, and tried her best to determine what it was that was approaching the village. John came out through the door, dressed in a simple white tunic, and the answer still eluded Mary. They walked together down the dirt roads toward the edge of the village. John had a pair of binoculars in his hand. They walked until they were past all of the village buildings. Nothing was between them and the cloud of dust but flat, open land. John held the binoculars up to his face, and gazed off into the distance.

What can you make out? Mary asked.

Not much. Whatever it is, it’s metallic. The low sun is reflecting off of it. I can’t see much through the glare, John said.

What do we do then? Mary asked.

There’s nothing we can do but wait, John said.

Mary walked away, back towards her home to finish her morning activities, not wanting to excite her anxiety any further trying to sleuth through this new mystery. John stayed and continued to look off into the distance. It had been a month since the last outsider had passed through the village. Whoever it was that approached was driving a mechanized vehicle. No one in the village owned such a vehicle. Only the people who collected the compacted waste ever arrived on something other than animal locomotion. The planes, trains, and automobiles of the big cities had no reason to come out this far. The terrain was far too rough to drive a normal car to make the journey. The payoff too small to fly or invest in rail transport.

A half hour passed, and the vehicle was now visible to John through his binoculars. It was a large hovercraft, explaining why it was kicking so much dust up into the air. It had thick metal plating and a military insignia emblazoned across the front. It moved fast. John judged it would be at the village in no more than twenty minutes.

Nervous about the possible meaning of a military interaction, John turned around and ran toward the center of the village. As he passed by houses, he told families to head inside, to close their doors and shutter their windows. He wanted every precaution to be taken to ensure the safety of the villagers. John had made his way to the center building. The one Mary met him at before. He rang a bell, signaling to the other village leaders to meet him in the village square.

Only a few deep breaths passed for John before one man and two women had entered the square. They stood in a circle near John, waiting for an explanation.

There is a military vehicle heading towards the village. It will be here any minute now, John said, still catching his breath after running through the village.

What could the military possibly want to do with our village? asked the man to John’s right.

I’m not sure, Adam. Has anyone left the village recently? Sarah? Rachel? Do you know of anything? John said.

No, Rachel said. Adam and Sarah nodded in agreement.

Ok, Sarah and Rachel, go around the village and make sure everyone is inside. Adam and I will wait here. We’ll do our best to greet the military, John said.

The two women walked off in different directions to scan through the village. John and Adam waited. The military vehicle was just at the edge of the village now. It slowed as it entered the narrow passages between the mud-brick buildings. It would only take a nudge from the hovercraft to reduce a home to a pile of dust. The vehicle entered the square. John and Adam shielded their faces to keep the dirt from being kicked into their eyes. The hum of the engines lowered in sound, and the vehicle descended toward the ground. After it landed, a door on the side opened, and a soldier dressed in protective body armor and a helmet stepped out. He walked toward John and Adam, both of whom extended their hands out in greeting. The soldier stood still, his arms behind his back. The other soldiers in the vehicle made their exit. John could tell by the symbols on the collar of the soldier standing in front of him that he was their commanding officer.

Where is the village leader? I must speak with him now, the officer said.

Our village is run by a council with four members, John said, This here is Adam. My name is John, and the two others are –

I’ve heard enough. We’ve been sent here to search through your village, the officer said.

On what grounds? Adam said.

On the grounds that the search has been ordered by the United Military. Do you have something to hide, villager? the officer said.

No, we’re just –

Then you should have no problem cooperating with us, the officer said.

The officer whistled. The disorganized soldiers quickly formed a line to be addressed by their officer.

Search each and every building in this village until you find something. Leave nothing unturned. Understood? the officer said.

Yes, sir, the soldiers said in unison.

The soldiers moved out in pairs, each going into a different building. They did not wait to be let in, and instead broke through the doors to make their way inside. The disturbed voices of the inhabitants could be heard. Their protests fell on deaf ears.

Sir, please, what is the meaning of all this? John asked.

You don’t have a need to know, the officer replied.

I’m a leader in this village, and my people are confused and afraid. Who else has more of a need to know than I do? John said.

The officer stared at John, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. We received intelligence that there is a terrorist cell operating out of this village. We are here to investigate.

Terrorists? That’s absurd! The people in this village have lived here their entire lives. No one comes and goes from this village. We’re isolated. We’re on our own from the rest of society. Officer, look around you. What do you see? There’s nothing in this village besides a few shabby homes and pens for our animals. What could possibly make you believe there are terrorists here? John said.

There is reason to believe that the perpetrators of a recent terrorist attack are hiding out here. That is all I can tell you, the officer said.

We haven’t seen an outsider in a month. The only people who come to this village are the waste collectors. Did you see any roads or trails on your way in here? Trust me, you aren’t going to find anything here! John said.

A shout was heard from one of the homes. A quarrel between a woman and a soldier filled the air of the village with