The Birth of a Rebellion

by Adam Sipperly

  The fighting continued, dragging across hours as the strongest of the Martians proved their might. Eventually, it was down to the final two. One of them was a very large Martian, his face covered in a knitted pattern of scars from battles past. He had clearly seen, and most likely won, many fights. The other Martian was slightly larger and more menacing but was missing his left arm, replaced by a wound healed many years ago. This did not, however, seem to be slowing him down in any way. He expertly maneuvered his weapon, a heavy-looking spiked ball on a chain. He was using it not only to provide devastating blows but to also deflect his enemies’ advances. It was at this point Patrick realized his cramped hands would no longer be able to release his bindings in time. He had managed to loosen them slightly, but he was still stuck. It was time to try and trick the King yet again.

  Clearing his throat loudly, Patrick managed to get the King’s attention. “Your majesty, both of those men are quite large. Aren’t you in the least bit worried they’ll eat a lot? They might even get angry at sharing with you, may choose to just overpower you and eat me themselves.” Patrick watched as the King turned the suggestion over in his head. Come on King, you know I’m right!

  It didn’t take long for the King to speak up. “You speak the truth! No worries my dear boy, for I have come up with a genius plan! When the winner of the two comes to claim his prize, I shall kill him with this here dagger.” He pulled out the long glinting blade in the space between them, the tip just touching Patrick causing him to shrink back.

  The King laughed at his reaction. “The very same blade I killed our old king with.”

  “You truly are the wisest king ever.” Patrick laid the flattery on thick. What a fool.

  “Your kind words won’t save you now. I’m still going to eat you… but thank you.”

  “You’re so welcome,” Patrick said, his eyes rolling all the while.

  The King was clearly blind to sarcasm and smiled at Patrick, slowly turning his attention back to the fight. Blow after blow landed, each Martian seeming to have the upper hand at different times. Just as it seemed the fight was going to end, one of the Martians would dodge perfectly and the fight would continue. As blood sprayed wildly, Patrick began to wonder how either of them had enough left to sustain themselves. He struggled against his ropes in anxiety and frustration, hoping for the fight to continue but also just wanting it to all be over.

  After what seemed like eons had passed, it appeared the one-armed Martian was finally ending it. He had pinned his opponent to the ground with his legs resting on both his biceps. He had the ball and chain raised above his head, ready to strike down. As he moved to swing the ball with tremendous force, the Martian on the ground jerked his left arm up into one-arms knee. The sound of his bone snapping backward was drowned out only by the sounds of his agonizing screams. One-arm fell to the ground, the momentum of his swing carrying him forward. The other Martian slowly stood and picked up the ball and chain. He swung it casually as he approached his foe, howling on the ground. With each step the scarred Martian took, he swung the ball faster and faster, like a pitcher winding up for a strikeout. On the sixth revolution, he swiftly crashed the spiked ball into the other's skull. Patrick winced at the sound it made and looked away. He felt dread rise inside him like yeast in the oven, this is the Martian the King has to kill?

  Patrick struggled hard against the ropes, no longer caring about being discrete. The King was talking in his direction, but Patrick didn’t hear a word he said. The King was also distracted, boasting about how perfectly his plan had worked. He was so distracted that he didn’t see his champion pick up a small dagger and tuck it in the back of his pants. But Patrick did, and knew in an instant that this Martian wasn’t as stupid as his king. The Martian knew something was going on and he was prepared. Wits couldn’t help Patrick with this Martian, and he knew it.

  “Your Highness!” Patrick interjected in the King’s speech, deep concern in his voice. “He has a dagger! He is going to try and kill you!”

  The King simply scoffed. “Don’t be a fool, no one would dare to try and kill me! Really, stupid human,” he said, waving Patrick away with his hand. “This Martian is the village idiot. He couldn’t possibly think of a plan to outwit me.”

  Patrick sat back, slightly stunned. He had done all he could and now was only left wondering not only how this Martian could be king, but why the aliens had chosen him to be their guardian.

  At this point the scarred Martian had reached the King, both arms crossed behind his back. His right hand was tightly wrapped around the handle of the dagger tucked in his pants. The King, still thinking he had the upper hand, pulled his own sword from behind his back and lunged at the Martian. But if anyone was the village idiot, it had to be the King. The scarred Martian was, in reality, a fearsome warrior trained in both physical and mental combat. He had spent years waiting for this moment, for the perfect opportunity to strike back at the Martian who had taken everything from him. As the King lunged, the Martian sidestepped and watched the King fall to the ground with the full force of his attack meeting nothing but air.

  The scarred Martian turned around quickly and gracefully, jumping on top of the King and driving his dagger deep into his back. The movement was smooth and silent, and Patrick couldn’t help but admire the Martian then. The scarred Martian bent in close to the King who was now coughing up blood. He whispered in his ear and twisted the dagger. With another swift movement, the knife came free from the Kings back as blood splatters trailed it through the air.

  The Martian stood up and turned towards Patrick. The sight of this Martian, standing there with blood dripping down his body, the knife firmly grasped in his hand and the look of hatred in his eyes, was near enough to stop Patrick’s heart. At this point, panic set in and Patrick abandoned the ropes. He looked to Flupotia, hoping she had awoken, but she lay on the ground and actually seemed to snore louder. The Martian approached Patrick and he knew this was the end. He braced himself for the pain of death, closing his eyes and saying silent goodbyes. But instead of swinging his sword, the Martian began to speak. His voice was deep and gravely, with a low rumble that reached through Patrick’s chest.

  “That was far too easy,” he said as he circled Patrick. “He should have listened to you. You’re actually quite clever, certainly more so than our foolish king there. But it won’t be so easy to trick me. He was an arrogant fool, never deserved to govern us, tell us what to do. It was only by luck he managed to steal the crown, the rightful king murdered. But now, I, the new king, will take my rightful place on the throne.” It was at this point in the rant that he had stopped at the throne, and plopped himself down, taking a well-deserved rest.

  “I will be a righteous king. I won’t starve my people out of fear of revolt. He did that, you know?” The new King shook his head in Patrick’s direction. “He would stockpile all the food that was brought down for us; have a few of his most trusted stand guard. Then, he would give us just enough to survive while he got fat and lazy. A lot of good that did him. Look at where he ended up.” He used the dagger still glistening with wet blood to point to the dead King’s body. “His blood flowing like small rivers across the floor. No better than the rest of us. My only regret is I killed him too quickly. It’s a shame, but now I have you to thank for my position as the rightful king.”

  There’s my way out! “Yes, dear King. You deserve that throne. I can already see you are much smarter than the last unfortunate excuse of a king.” Patrick paused and sat himself in as deep a bow he could manage given his current bindings and cast his eyes down. “And you will be a benevolent king. I would hope, that your first act as king would be a fair one. Given that I helped create the opportunity for you to rise to king, would it not be just to let me go and be on my way?” Patrick looked up then, a weak hope shining in his eyes.

  As the new King laughed at Patrick, all hope faded. “Puny human, you make me laugh. I wonder if what he said was right, the funny ones tasting better?”r />
  The King stood from his new throne and walked towards Patrick. The blade was still in his hands, the blood of the old King still fresh. He approached Patrick slowly and kneeled behind him. He was close enough that Patrick could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck as well as the stench that exited with each breath. As the knife pressed against Patrick’s back, he feared whatever sick game the King was about to put him through.

  “Please!” Patrick pleaded, “you don’t want to eat me! I guarantee you I’m nowhere near as tasty as some of the humans I can show you. Please, just give me a chance!”

  The King continued laughing, but at this point, his laugh began to change. It went from a deep and menacing growl into a more lighthearted laugh. “Come on kid. I’m not going to eat you, I never was!”

  “I’ll do anything—wait, you’re not going to eat me?”

  The new King didn’t answer, he just continued laughing as he sliced the ropes binding Patrick’s hands. Taking no chances in trusting this Martian, Patrick made his move. As soon as the bindings were free from his legs, he shifted his full weight backward into the new King. Rolling over the King, Patrick scrambled to his supplies lying next to Flupotia and pulled out a sword.

  “You really think I’m going to fall for something like that?”

  The Martian continued laughing, unmoved by Patrick's words nor the sword now pointing towards him. At this point, Patrick saw the dirt on his face was streaked from tears of laughter.

  “Oh wow,” he paused catching his breath from the laughter. “I’m being serious here. Not all of us Martians like the taste of man. Hawfleburg there was one of them. He was their king.” The Martian used air quotes when saying the word king, which struck Patrick as odd. “Most of us have a diet very similar to yours.”

  “Explain this then. If you’re not all cold-blooded killers, then why are you all living down here guarding the alien King’s secrets?”

  The new King shrugged. “Well, for one thing, The Cave of Man-Eating Martians has a nice ring to it. Instills a certain sense of dread and fear in you, doesn’t it?”

  “Still,” Patrick pondered for a moment before asking, “why do all you stay down here?”

  “The aliens have had control of our planet for some time. Not too long ago, when they left for your planet, they rounded up a bunch of us and shoved us down here. They didn’t care to ask which of us ate human meat and which didn’t. Just assumed we were all the same as Hawfleburg. It’s been quite difficult for some of us to survive under his rule.”

  “Say I believed all you’re saying,” Patrick looked to the Martian with great distrust in his eyes, “which I don’t! But say I did, why fight in the battle? Why not bow out?”

  “Two reasons. The first, I finally had a chance to kill as many of the man-eaters as I could. Hopefully, make life a little more livable while we’re stuck here. I don’t expect you to understand without the full history of Mars, but let’s just say we don’t exactly get along very well. Being forced to cohabitate down here hasn’t made that relationship any better. Back on Mars, we had different tribes, lived on different land and practiced different customs. Down here, they outnumbered us greatly, making it easy for them to take full control.”

  “The old King, the one before Hawfleburg,” the Martian paused to spit in the direction of the newly slain King, “he was the rightful King of my tribe. I left that tribe long ago before the power shift occurred. Hawfleburg was against the ways of the current King. He worked in the shadows and never made a public move himself. But he always made sure everyone knew his name. This set him up perfectly to be the one to claim ownership of sneaking up on the old King and slitting his throat in his sleep. To be honest, I’ve never believed he was the one who did it. But the day after his body was found, he took all the credit and assumed leadership. Nobody stood up to oppose his claim, so everyone fell in line behind him. Ever since I have been training and waiting for my moment to strike back and kill him. And that is the second reason I fought. To end his reign. Honestly, there were times I thought I was done. But a sudden surge of adrenaline would keep me going, thank the Gods.”

  Patrick paused for a moment, taking in all the information and gauging whether or not to trust the Martian in front of him. Finally, he lowered his sword and joined in the Martians praise. “Thank the Gods.”

  The two fell into conversation as the new King made his way around the battlefield looking for survivors. During this conversation, the new King revealed his name was Gin-us the Second, and that he was the son of the King whom Hawfleburg had allegedly slain. This further explained his motivation, to not only avenge his King but his father. Gin-us still, however, felt he had not achieved his goals, as he could not believe Hawfleburg had the guts or the brain to take out his father. Patrick was inclined to agree with Gin-us. Shifting conversation from troubles of the past to those of the future, Patrick let the Martian King know of his quest. He took the time to outline every detail of the current predicament, hoping to gain a new ally and friend.

  As they walked, slowly the room became more crowded. The Martians that had been knocked out were now beginning to wake up. Some were just stirring, some were sitting up, and others were already standing and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. At the same time, those who had hidden in the shadows during the fight were beginning to trickle into the open. Seeing this, Patrick suddenly became painfully aware of how outnumbered he was even still.

  “Gin-us, you have to let me go now. These Martians that are waking up, they may not agree to your reign as king. I commend your feats, but also know the fight has to have worn you down. Please, can we pass?”

  The question hung in the air as Gin-us surveyed the room of Martians getting to their feet, looking dazed and more than a little furious.

  “Whatever little spell your friend cast there, from what I can see has only knocked out the non-man-eating Martians.”

  “All the same, I’d like to take my friend and leave!”

  Gin-us looked out over his new troupe of subjects, conflicted. “You are free to go. I hope to see you on your return journey. Perhaps by then, you will see that you can trust those of us that remain. For now, go without fear. For you have my word that we will not hunt you down.”

  “Thank you.”

  Patrick quickly strapped on his backpack and tried to shake Flupotia awake. She hardly came to as Patrick helped her to her feet. He struggled to support her weight as he hurriedly shuffled towards the exit. The Martians continued to wake around Patrick, an angry buzz growing in the room with each passing second. Despite the small trust he now felt in Gin-us, he did not know the rest of these Martians from the aliens. Patrick quickened his pace, doing his best to keep Flupotia moving as well.

  Suddenly, however, the ground was rushing up to meet Patrick as an arm reached from nowhere and grabbed his left leg. Flupotia fell from his arms, her head making a sick cracking noise as it hit the ground. Patrick reached for a weapon but saw they had slid out of his reach. The hand was still on Patrick’s foot as he turned to kick free. Doing so, he came face to face with a Martian missing the lower left half of its jaw.

  “You aren’t getting away so easy!” he screeched, “I’m hungry!”

  ◆◆◆

  VI: The New King Rises

  Agent 3527AS was heading down the dirt tunnels that led towards the Giant Snakes. He had only heard rumors of them but knew Patrick must have gone this way. The alien, fearing a decommission, had only told one other alien what had happened. Together, they reviewed the logs and noted that Patrick hadn’t left the base. Knowing there was no other exit, he could have only traveled deeper into the Earth.

  The disappearance of Flupotia was another matter. If she had been kidnapped on his watch, he was worried about far worse than a decommissioning. It was one thing to let a prisoner escape, another to let them take her as a hostage.

  The alien’s friend reasoned the only logical explanation for everything was that Patrick was using Flupotia as bait
. She was nothing more to the human than a snack for the snakes. The thought was ludicrous to Agent 3527AS, how would Patrick even know about the snakes? But as unconvinced as he was, he had no other theories to go on.

  It appeared that Patrick was smarter and more cunning than any of them had thought. How foolish they had all been, thinking Patrick had ‘accidentally’ found their hideout. The alien’s fear of Patrick’s scheming was reinforced when he found two dead patrolmen, left lying in the middle of the tunnel.

  The initial shock of this discovery left the alien reeling. I am in so much trouble. With no other option, he hid the two bodies as best he could, knowing he could just blame it all on Patrick if someone else found them. Please let Flupotia still be alive! The Agent continued on at a fast pace, now well aware of how dangerous Patrick truly was.

  With fear and worry fueling him, it didn’t take long to reach the Snake’s home. His shock at this point completely overwhelmed him. In the cave, he found two of the four snakes dead, their heads blown clean off. Agent 3527AS knew he couldn’t keep this a secret any longer. He needed to tell the General and get some backup down here now. Without even a word to the snakes, the alien transformed quickly into a snow leopard and took off back to the main base to raise the alarm and let everyone know what had happened.

  ◆◆◆

  Patrick shuddered as he tried in vain to kick free from the Martian. The Martian was using his massive size to his advantage and had Patrick pinned to the ground under his weight alone. Between the weight of the Martian and the overwhelming stench of his breath, Patrick could feel himself slipping into an unconscious state. The darkness began to creep in around him as he saw the Martian open his mouth wide. This can’t be how it ends! Patrick closed his eyes and screamed in agony. It was longer than a few moments before Patrick realized the scream hadn’t come from him but from the Martian.