Short, Light, Free-Chapter 68: Moon of Wrath III

Chapter 68: Moon of Wrath III

I stood up slowly and gave the general a call.

“Where are you?” I asked. “Where is it now?”

“Give me a moment, I’ll ask.”

After a brief silence, he added, “Twenty more hours to reach the moon.”

“Any problems so far? Actually, no, forget it, pass the phone to the expert,” I instructed anxiously.

“Hi, sir,” the expert greeted faintly.

“Any problems with the rocket?” I questioned.

“Nothing significant. In my humble opinion, guiding missiles is harder than this. Of course, I might be too full of myself since the mathematicians have contributed more. Their calculations helped a lot,” he responded.

“Enough of these. How long would you guys need to create the second rocket?”

The expert fell silent and I could hear him scratching his head.

“According to this blueprint, if everything goes well with the first rocket, we’ll just need the mathematicians to calculate the launch timing properly and we can build one a year.”

“What about the cost? Is there any way to reduce it?”

“We’re not buying groceries in the market. Even from the start, the building costs aren’t low and we’ll require more fuel than what’s just enough to land on the moon,” the expert explained, displeased.

“I know you’ll need triple that amount and there’s nothing to be done about it, but it’s all for Project Begin so can’t you just try to reduce some expenses wherever you can?” I requested politely.

“There’s a way actually,” he replied.

“Please.”

“I can, in fact, save about 50% of the total cost, but the project’s success will not be guaranteed. You should know better since you handed the plan and the goals,” he went on.

“Alright, ignore what I’ve said. 130 million, once a year, how’s that?” I asked helplessly.

“120 will do, sir,” he said with a laugh.

“Thanks for the hard work. Would you mind handing the phone back to the general?”

“I heard him raise his voice, sir. I’ll get him to apologize, do not worry,” the general assured me.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s doing a great job. Thank you for keeping him.”

“All for the nation,” he shouted patriotically.

I hung up.

After a full day, the news of the moon landing had spread across the whole nation.

The news even reached the neighboring countries. Messages from respective envoys came in quickly, either seeking to get hold of the research and development data or to purchase the blueprints directly.

I rejected all of them regardless of the price they offered.

The second rocket entered the research and development stage, and I personally took on the role of the chief of cultural department and was in charge of the advertorial job.

Another year passed and our second rocket was launched as scheduled.

Same procedures and processes except for the logo on the rocket: 999 Cold Control.

Everything was perfect and flawless.

Four days later, the news spread across the whole nation once again.

The finance minister walked over to me wordlessly.

I asked, “What is it? Is anything the matter?”

After a long pause, he started, “Sir, I don’t see the problem in sending a rocket up every three or four years since it’s profitable, but isn’t this current pace too fast? We’re earning less than the first launch. Another time and we might even…”

He looked at me, not daring to finish.

I held onto the red documents and returned his stare without speaking.

“That isn’t the third proposal that you’re holding, is it, Sir?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling.

“Busted.” I smiled sheepishly.

“Can you put that on hold, Prime Minister?” he asked, his voice now severely shaking.

I put the contract aside and walked toward him. Patting his shoulder comfortingly, I said, “Have I done anything throughout the years that wasn’t for the greater good of the nation?”

“You’ve given your all for our nation, but to err is human. The frequency you proposed is really unsuitable and you might really need to stop a little,” he continued in a less shaky voice.

I looked into his eyes. “Trust me this once, alright?”

He looked stunned for a moment before lowering his head.

The third rocket was added to the schedule.

Another year passed and it was launched as planned.

The advertisement was for Stanley compound fertilizer.

I watched on as the rocket disappeared before my eyes.

“Is the advertising quality declining?” I asked.

The assistant nodded without hesitation. “Our profits are, too, and the finance minister isn’t pleased.”

“Help me, alright? Say I’m not around if people ask. No one shall obstruct my fourth launch,” I said as I handed the documents over to him.

“Prime Minister,” he said nervously.

“Why? Are you planning to discourage me, too? Don’t you know me? Get back to work.”

…

Another year passed.

“Do you still remember who’s the advertising company this time?” I placed the fifth contract on the table.

The assistant lowered his head.

“It’s only the fifth and no one’s willing to invest?” I asked.

He only nodded.

“As they please. I’m going to launch it either way.”

“I wanted to tell you that Nation K is interested in our blueprint and the price they offered is enough for one more launch. I think you know what needs to be done,” he added.

“More and more countries are able to launch their own rockets, yes?”

“Almost all except for K, but either no country’s willing to sell their blueprint or will only sell it at an exorbitant price, which is why K has come to us.”

“Sell it to them. This is no longer a secret, anyway, and there’s no time for our plan anymore. It’s still not enough,” I sighed.

“Plan?” he asked, confused.

“Get to work, quick, and take the contract,” I told him.

Helpless, he picked the contract from the table and left.

…

Sixth launch, success.

…

I was holding onto the seventh rocket launch plan when the finance minister barged into my office.

I froze as I watch him took a pistol out from his pocket and aimed it at me.

I could see his hands trembling.

“Prime Minister, you can’t treat rocket launches as your rice bowls. We need the fundings to build the nation,” he yelled, his whole body shaking.

I put the contract down slowly.

“Is that the seventh plan? I shouldn’t have voted for you back then. You’re a lunatic to waste resources like this.”

He knelt down on the floor with the pistol still in his trembling hands.

“Could you please calm down and listen to me? I can’t tell you much, but please believe me when I tell you that we don’t have much time. We have to keep launching the rockets. We have to do it before the other nations, understand?” I told him soothingly.

“You’re insane,” he said before pointing the gun into his own mouth.

Kneeling before me, he pulled the trigger.

The shot rang loud and armed soldiers entered almost immediately.

They stood rooted to the ground, shocked beyond belief.

With a wave of my hand, I instructed, “Clean up the body and hand the red contract to my assistant.”

I left the office and gave the general a call.

“Yes?” he asked.

“What else have we got other than the rockets?” I questioned.

“What else? The finance minister would know better,” he replied.

“He just killed himself before my eyes. Tell me what you know,” I responded dully.

“80% reduction in forces, weaponry technology stagnant for seven years…” he informed me.

“How much more? How much more to complete Project Begin?”

“Three more rockets.”

“Can we do it?”

“I’m not sure, but for the nation…”

…

Eighth launch, success.

…

The ninth rocket launch plan was in my hands and the whole army had been abrogated.

The number of governmental officials was reduced by 80%.

Taxes increased twofold, leading to severe resentment.

Still, the ninth launch happened as scheduled and was a success.

Four days later, I heard the good news.

And the enemy country’s forces entered my nation’s soil.

One more. Just one more.

Four hours later, a fully-armed army troop appeared before me.

My assistant had already been a victim of the bloodbath and I also had lost contact with the general.

The soldiers of the enemy country had their technologically advanced firearms aimed at me.

“Your citizens are cursing you, sir,” a soldier, dressed slightly differently, started.

“I know,” I said, leaning back in my chair with a smile.

“I did not see a single soldier on my way here,” he continued.

“Soldier? I have no money for an army,” I explained.

“Let me introduce myself first. I’m the first general of Nation M, Billy Harrington. I might have to take you with me.”

I placed a remote control on the table. “You do know that we’ve been launching rockets to the moon for nine years now, right?”

He walked over to my table, took out a satellite phone and dialed some numbers before putting it down. “We know and we’ve been watching. You might have gone overboard, my dear rocket minister.”

The line got through and a voice was heard: “I’m the president of Nation M and I’m leading my army to take over your territory.”

“Overboard? Perhaps, I have. But do you know what this remote is for?”

“Remote to alert the secret army you’ve been hiding?” he sneered.

The soldiers behind him started smirking and no one spoke from the other end of the line.

“If you have really been watching, I think you should know what came before our rockets.”

“Yes I do, my dear missile minister, or rather, missile rocket minister?” the soldier continued with a patronizing smile.

“I’ll impart to you some general knowledge. You do know that we’ve always been seeing the bright side of the moon, right? The far side, however, will never be visible,” I shared, returning his smile just as patronizingly.

“So?” he looked at me uncertainly.

“On the side that you can’t see stand nine rockets, each containing two third fuel within. Of course, 10 was my goal, but it seems impossible now. Nine is mighty enough, albeit a little slower,” I said.

“Are you playing with us? A moon?” The soldier lost his smile.

“The moment I press this button, the nine rockets on the moon will reignite and smash the whole moon toward Earth. I’m requesting for you to put your weapons down and surrender to me now.”

The leader raised his gun and aimed it at me, those behind him followed suit.

Through the phone, a voice sounded, “Is it true? What you said?”

“Of course. Project Begin has just begun. I need you to announce this to the world and get all nations to surrender to me.”

The real Project Begin was a 10-year plan to take over the world.

“The remote’s in his hand?” the voice over the phone asked.

“Yes, he’s holding it,” the soldier answered.

After a brief silence, the voice sounded, “Plan B.”

From not far away, a sniper pulled the trigger.

My mind went blank as my upper body collapsed onto the table.

The soldier quickly held my arms down and took the remote.

“This? It’s really light. Made of plastic… there’s no way. We’ve been fooled by this madman,” the soldier exclaimed.

“Leader, his chest seems to be glowing,” a soldier noted.

The soldier laid my body straight and saw the wires on my chest.

He undressed my shirt and found a transducer.

With some horror, he figured out that only an electrical circuit was keeping my heart beating.

And my heart had stopped beating.

He immediately looked out of the window and into the sky.

Above the clouds, the azure sky seemed calm.

But on the moon above the calm blue, nine indescribable objects stirred restlessly.

During the night, when everyone could see the moon, they noticed it becoming bigger in size and redder in color.

It looked like a moon of wrath, all ready to embrace Earth.

…

Epilogue.

This story gained two votes.

During the first voting, with one leading vote, it was Goudan’s first time beating Luqiao and securing the lead role in ‘Moon of Wrath’.

During the second voting between a) a happy ending, and b) a sad ending, 80% voted for B, which was ‘Plan B’.

Providence is everything and everything is foreordained.

Back to the votes. The sad ending was the result of the votes.

In order to make everyone happy, I released the happy ending anyway.

Synopsis of the happy ending was also referred to as the Goudan model:

The nation found out after the completion of nine rocket launches.

The story remained the same except that the sniper puts his gun down upon receiving the order to execute Plan B.

The soldier, too, puts down his firearm helplessly.

Negotiation failed.

The nation announced, on behalf of Goudan, the secret of the moon and introduced both Project Begin and Goudan to the world.

Goudan declared, through all national televisions across the world, that the world belonged to him alone.

Even as years passed, people from all over the world would look up at the moon from time to time.

The moon that could get angry anytime.

…

Of course, the so-called good ending was only good from Goudan’s perspective.

I shan’t write the synopsis out in detail.

Whichever ending’s better? To each his own, I guess.