“Papa, please—don’t go.”

He tried to keep his voice steady but he just couldn’t. His father Andriy had both large hands on his shoulders. He simply smiled. “You are the man of the house now, Sergei. You need to be strong. You can’t let them see you as weak now,” Andriy said before looking over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t keep them waiting. They told me that once the work is done, you and Anna can join me. Think about it, we will be the first of the Lunar Men. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Sergei managed a slow nod as his father embraced him one last time. He wished he would never let go. “I should not keep the soldiers waiting.”

Sergei watched his father leave with the soldiers. The dark embrace that claimed his father was soon replaced by the old wooden door being slammed shut by his mother. Despite the stress of it all she hardly looked phased by the ordeal.

“He’s gone, Sergei, time for bed. You have school tomorrow.”

He remained where he stood. “They’re not going to hurt him are they?”

She bent down to him. “They need workers. Able bodies, hurting him would mean going against the Maxim. Now go on. Off to bed, you have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

#

Deep in the bowels of the Tellus Dome, he was disgusted by what he found. While the socialites, rich oligarchs and the West’s mongrels reaped the benefits of a Luna lifestyle. The ever-growing needs of the workforce were overlooked and left to be someone else’s problem. He had come here searching for his father but had found only death, disease and missing persons instead. Something was happening in the city of Lazarus and he planned to uncover the truth. By any means necessary if he had to.

He had his cover as did other Black Knight operatives. His was the unpleasant job of mopping the floors. Not that it mattered, the act itself was a purely performative and futile battle against the dust and grime that was dragged in by those doing tours and other moon-related activities. He slithered along the long narrow corridor, humming to the sound of rumbling pipes and excess steam. A man rounded the corner, wide-eyed and terrified, his long black hair a frizzled mess. Sergei straightened at the sight of the man. It was not uncommon to see someone so dishevelled but this man was different. He had the look of a man who had gazed upon his maker and had no plans to do so again.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Sir, Can I help you?”

The man’s heavy breaths did little to reassure Sergei. “No, no,” he repeated. “What was in those drinks?”

“Drinks? you came all the way from Apollo?”

The man rushed down the corridor toward Sergei. “You need to get off this rock.”

“Sir, look at me. Does it look like I can go where I please? I’m just the janitor.”

“Not anymore.”

Sergei just wanted to be done with shift so that he could go and rest but something about how the man talked had him interested. “Just tell me what happened.”

The man placed grimy hands on his hips. “The Lazarus Ball, a toast to the future. You know about it?”

“Heard about it, not on the invite list as you can already tell.”

“Be grateful then because whatever was in those drinks. It’s killed everyone. God’s above what if they have also contaminated the water supply.”

“Say that again,” Sergei said looking down at the blackness of the bucket, he thought he saw movement on the surface. Just my mind playing tricks, keep it together Sergei.

“Everyone at the ball turned on each other. I’m lucky I made it out alive.”

“Did you drink anything?”

He could see the man’s eye twitching and the telltale signs he wasn’t all there as his veins took on a black colouring. If only this was madness. He’s harbouring it. They didn’t tell me they would spike the drinks so soon!

“Only a sip.”

Sergei let go of his mop and it clattered upon hitting the floor. “Only a sip, you say. Prosti menya, moy drug.”

“What?”

The man didn’t see it coming. A psion energy-laced fist painted the insides of his head against the far wall and Sergei had no plans on cleaning that up. He was certain of one thing though. The symbiote gestating inside the man hadn’t fully developed yet. Still, Sergei couldn’t afford mercy in a time like this. So he did the only thing he could and began stamping down on the man’s chest until it all became mush. It can not be allowed to take hold. That which is dead must stay dead. But why now? I haven’t even found, Father yet. I refuse to believe he’s dead!

Now fully distracted he barely heard the bucket tip and spill its contents across the floor. That which is dead… He lifted his blood-stained black boots and looked over his shoulder as the amorphous mass he knew only as Deterrent acknowledged him in a tranquil manner, bobbing up and down. Must stay dead…

It launched itself at him covering his face and body in black sludge. It would force its way into him and then what?

I become like them. No!

He raised his calloused dirty hands and engaged the proto-cores that had been installed back when he was on Earth and had been selected for this mission. To serve the Maxim we must sow the seeds of our enemies’ downfall and claim the world in the aftermath. He pressed his hands against his face and ignited the psionic flames.

To say agony threatened to send him to the other side of sanity was an understatement. He would burn the monster from his body if it guaranteed his freedom. He dropped to his knees as the black sludge dried out and fell from his body. His face would be left scarred but he would still live.

Father… where are you?