The Ruins of Mars (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy Book 1)

by Dylan James Quarles

  “Teo?” he murmured.

  “I am here. Wake up, and eat something.”

  Rubbing his eyes, Olo blinked several times and looked around the murky tent.

  “The great stones,” he said, his voice far away and quiet. “They are the bones of long-dead mountains.”

  Reaching into the clay pot, Teo pulled out a strip of dried eel, then pressed it into Olo’s hand.

  “Eat this,” she encouraged.

  Shaking his head, Olo let the meat fall from his grasp.

  “The hunger improves my visions.”

  “But you must eat,” urged Teo, her voice edged with worry.

  “In the morning,” stated the wise man with finality. “Now I must tell you of what I learned during my time in the spirit world.”

  Grunting with frustration, Teo reached for a thick animal fur blanket that lay on the ground near the edge of the tent.

  “What did you see?” she asked, wrapping the blanket around her naked shoulders and chest, a cool breeze twisting spirals of sweet smoke in the air.

  Taking several deep breaths, Olo shut his eyes and tipped his head back.

  “The spirits of this land have told me many things,” he exhaled. “They speak much louder here than they ever did in the south. During this vision, they told me of the great stones, which lie all around us. They say we must raise our stones from these ancient rocks, for they are the sacred bones of the mighty Atun’s dead children. We will appease the Great Spirits by resurrecting their fallen mountains and earn the compassion of the sometimes-vengeful Atun by honoring his fallen kin.”

  As Teo breathed deeply the aroma of the burning herbs, Olo recanted his visions from the spirit world and their meanings in the world of the living. Remus and Romulus listened as the wise man told of another plane of existence. A place where his body was as thin as smoke, and time was without limit. A place where the spirits of distant ancestors spoke forgotten truths to him. A place where these truths fed his mind, growing and transforming his soul. Soft drumming started up from somewhere in the camp, and soon there was chanting. A medley of haunting melodic wails broke out, drifting through the night air to blend with the smells of the cooking eels and smoldering incense.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Another unexpected discovery—Sol 24

  Orbiting in space above the red planet Mars, Captain Tatyana Vodevski flicked through the weekly progress reports of the ground crew. Her cabin was spartan in decorum, yet a warm cello concerto played softly, haunting the little space and giving it texture. She floated, expertly rigid, her back a few centimeters above the covers of her bed, loose red hair swirling and bobbing with the slow draws of the soloing cello’s bow. In the air above her, like the tangible thoughts of six men and women, projected reports shimmered with translucent light as they outlined the progress of the ground crew.

  Dr. Calise had successfully seeded several batches of genetically modified tomatoes, eggplants, green beans and snow peas in her new greenhouse. Though the elongated farming dome was under two weeks old, Dr. Calise was expecting to see the first sprouts of life in eight days or less. With the help of Dr. Liu, the Germans had been able to unload from the Arc, and assemble, all nine of the automated construction robots, which now worked twenty-four hours a day, under the strict guidance of Braun, to bolt and weld the geodesic Alon base’s frame together. In the field, Dr. Assad and Lieutenant Marshall had recently wrapped up their CT scan of the ruin grid and were now in the process of preparing a trimensional presentation on their findings.

  The last report interested Tatyana the most. Archaeology was not one of her strongest subjects, yet she found ancient ruins and lost cities to be utterly fascinating. Add to that, the fact that these ruins were constructed thousands, maybe millions, of years ago on Mars, and it was clear enough why her heart beat a little faster when opening the folder. Unfortunately, there still wasn't much to see at this point. Even worse was an infuriatingly vague note attached to the bottom of the report, dated two sols ago, promising that the presentation would be ready by day’s end. As she glared at the glowing excuse, another note suddenly materialized next to the original, reading, I’m done, call in an hour-H.

  “Two sols late, and he wants an hour!” fumed Tatyana quietly.

  “Captain?” responded Braun’s detached voice.

  “Nothing, Braun. I was talking to myself.”

  “Holding conversations with oneself is sometimes evidence of mental instability. Are you feeling well, Captain?”

  Looking up sharply, Tatyana started to prepare an angry reply, then stopped.

  “Are you joking with me, Braun?” she asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  “Yes.”

  Closing the reports, she rubbed her tired eyes, chuckling softly.

  “Not to worry, dear Braun. I’m as sane as anyone in my situation can be.”

  There was a brief pause, then Braun responded with a chuckle that mimicked Tatyana’s.

  “Captain, given the parameters of your current living situation, I would say that anything short of insanity is madness.”

  Laughing, Tatyana pushed off the wall and drifted towards the hatch.

  “True enough!”

  As she floated into the galley, she was greeted with waves from YiJay and Aguilar, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Two silver bags of food zoomed back and forth as the laughing astronauts smacked them across the table at one another.

  “What’s this?” she inquired.

  Grinning, Aguilar spiked one of the unmarked sacks to YiJay, who giggled and batted it back.

  “It’s food roulette. When Braun calls time, we have to eat whichever bag is nearest us. One is beef stew, and the other is—” he paused dramatically. “—Shrimp salad.”

  Grimacing, Tatyana shook her head.

  “Why would you take such risks?”

  Shrugging, Aguilar backhanded a bag that came at his face.

  “Boredom, I guess.”

  Engaging the electromagnets in the soles of her shoes, Tatyana planted her feet on an illuminated yellow walking strip. Adjusting her balance, she shuffled to the refrigerator and removed a bag of spaghetti.

  “Where are the others?” she asked, pushing the frozen bag of food into a microwave oven.

  “Good question,” chimed YiJay, punching back one of the floating silver bags. “Braun, tell the captain where everyone else is.”

  From the air all around them, Braun listed off the locations of the rest of the crew.

  “Lieutenant Vyas is in his quarters sending a transmission to his wife. Dr. Kubba is in the gravity simulation exercise facility, and Dr. Thomas is on deck C7 following up on my report of a jammed ventilation regulator.”

  “Let me speak with Julian,” commanded Tatyana as she hit the start button on the microwave.

  “Please hold.”

  There were a series of clicks, then Julian’s voice piped into the room sounding distant and tiny.

  “Oui? Yes?”

  “It’s me,” said Tatyana. “What’s going on? Anything serious?”

  “No, no,” he replied with an indignant laugh. “Everything is exactly as I designed it. Perfect.”

  Shaking her head with a tired smile, Tatyana watched as a distracted Aguilar took a warm bag of mystery food to the side of the face.

  “Good,” she stated firmly, arching an eyebrow at the embarrassed Aguilar. “When you finish up, I want a full report on the malfunction and the steps taken to correct it. Understand?”

  “No, it’s not necessary,” Julian said dismissively.

  “You don’t make that call,” barked Tatyana, her tone suddenly hard. “You do what I tell you to.”

  “Yes, Captain,” answered Julian, his voice calm and thin.

  There was a beep, and the connection cut off. Exchanging sidelong glances, Aguilar and YiJay resumed their game as Tatyana grumbled a few choice words in Russian under her breath.

  “Time’s up,” called Braun.


  Snatching the nearest bag out of the air, Aguilar took a deep breath, then tore the top off the feeding tube.

  “Beef stew!” he cheered with palpable relief.

  Groaning, YiJay opened her bag and took a careful sniff.

  “So much for a pleasant afternoon,” she complained bitterly.

  An hour later, Tatyana looked down upon Mars from the bridge deck window with unblinking gray eyes. Coming up beside her, Joseph Aguilar flicked his gaze quickly over her face as he tried to read her expression. Being a man and flawed in the same way that all men are, his view subconsciously wandered down from her face to rest on the swell of her breasts as she took a deep breath.

  “Beautiful, no?” she sighed.

  Jumping a little, Aguilar quickly snapped his eyes back up to Tatyana’s face, relieved to see that she was still staring out the window.

  “Um, yes. Very,” he responded dumbly. Then, “Do you have any special plans for this evening?”

  Tilting her head, Tatyana smiled softly—an expression that made her very attractive. “Not that I’m aware of. Why do you ask?”

  Rubbing his neck, Aguilar started to say something but was interrupted by Braun.

  “Captain, I have an incoming transmission from Dr. Assad.”

  Pushing back from the window, Tatyana’s features returned to their normal impassive stoniness.

  “Put it through on the main screen.”

  “As you wish.”

  Harrison’s face, lined with shadow and sporting two days of stubble, appeared on the window, blotting out Mars.

  “Your report is two sols late,” said Tatyana, her voice dripping like hot iron.

  Licking his lips, Harrison nodded agreeably.

  “I’m really sorry, Captain,” he started, noticing with a blush that Aguilar was witness to the conversation. “The scan turned up so, so much more than I thought it would. I’ve been up for the last two nights just getting the images rendered and ready to show you.”

  Putting her hands on her hips, Tatyana acted unimpressed.

  “Well?”

  “I sent the model to Dr. Floyd about thirty minutes ago. Shouldn't we wait for him?” he asked, arching his eyebrows worriedly.

  “I know you are well aware of the significant lag in transmissions between here and Earth,” grilled Tatyana. “Am I expected to wait forty minutes just to hear what a man fifty-seven million kilometers away has to say about the progress of my crew?”

  Running a hand over his buzzed scalp, Harrison bobbed his head, then tapped at something off-screen. The image of his face was instantly replaced with a stunning 3-D model of the Martian ruin grid: turning, as if on a pedestal, three sections of massive wall-enclosed buildings, squares, streets and domes, all presented in perfect detail, and clearly, digitally restored to their original splendor. Zooming in, then panning over for a bird’s-eye view, the ancient city passed before them in crisp resolution. Flat and even, the mighty walls rivaled those of England's famous Windsor castle: standing over twenty meters tall and eight meters thick, with cylindrical watchtowers guarding the southern corners.

  Like the steps of a Mayan pyramid, diamond-shaped stairs that started wide at the bottom, then narrowed at the top, led steadily up to each outpost from within the walls of the city. Three clusters of dome-topped buildings formed semi-circles below, and rows of stout two-story cubes arranged themselves in relief between the domes. A mesh of streets and piazzas connected everything like a spider web: circling out from a massive square in the center of the city, punctuated by an odd arrangement of monolithic stones. Lastly, the grand dome, imposing and unimaginably large, rested in pristine clarity only a few hundred meters from the rim of the Valles Marineris. Glowing like a full harvest moon, it seemed bigger than any Earthly monument, and it dominated the ruin grid completely.

  “Amazing,” whispered Tatyana, instantly forgetting her grudge with Harrison.

  “There’s more,” came Harrison’s voice, excited and relieved. “Just let me bring it up.”

  “More?” breathed Aguilar. “It already seems like so much.”

  Pulling her gaze away from the model, Tatyana peered up into the young astronaut’s eyes and smiled beautifully. Reaching out, she took his hand.

  “I know,” pressed Harrison. “But wait until you see this.”

  A new filter played across the model, this time turning many of the buildings transparent. A thin and twisting network of green lines snaked across the grid like the paths a worm would leave as it ate its way through an apple. Running the entire length of the ancient city, the lines passed under nearly every major building, feeding into one another like rivers. As the model panned, the various veins and forks began to converge onto one another as they neared their dead end at the canyon's rim, until there was only one main tunnel left.

  “What are those?” asked Tatyana, her voice quavering slightly.

  “I think you can guess,” replied Harrison.

  “Caves!” shouted Aguilar, squeezing Tatyana’s hand in his. “They’re caves, aren't they?”

  “Yep! It’s a cave system. Probably lava tubes from Olympus Mons, which connect most of the buildings and the big dome to the Valles rim!”

  “What does it mean?” Tatyana questioned with a frown.

  “It means,” smiled Harrison. “That there is an easier way into the ruins than we first anticipated. Granted, we still need to uncover them, but digging will take months. This allows us nearly instant access to the really juicy stuff. Can you imagine what we might discover? My CT scans can show us solid shapes and whatnot, but without going in, without really getting in there, I can’t make any assumptions about these ruins or who built them. The best way is for me and a small team to—”

  Braun cut in, breaking Harrison’s line of attack.

  “Transmission from Dr. Floyd, Captain.”

  “Play it,” ordered Tatyana, letting Aguilar’s hand slip from hers.

  In the upper-left corner of the screen, James Floyd’s blotchy face appeared, eyes burning with suppressed intensity.

  “Captain, I’m looking at the CT scan of the Mars ruin grid that Assad just sent me. I’m guessing you probably are too, so I won’t bother explaining what needs to be done here. I want you to greenlight Assad’s idea to get down in those caves ASAP. Digging up the ruins just took the back burner here, Vodevski. This will get us results much quicker, and, trust me, given the tone of some of our biggest financial backers, we need results. I await your reply, but you have my orders. Make it happen.”

  Grinning, Harrison arched his eyebrows.

  “If it’s alright with you,” he said. “I already have a team ready to go on your word.”

  Raising the stones

  Unable to keep track of the erratic passage of time, the brothers Remus and Romulus found themselves witnesses to the foundation of a new civilization. A decade, maybe more, had passed since their first encounter with the people of Mars, and, now, far in the north, they surveyed with lucid and dreamlike intrigue a growing metropolis.

  In the glow of the midday sun, hundreds of purple-skinned Martian men and women moved about the bustling dirt streets of their expanding township. Situated on the shores of a half-moon-shaped lake, the developing city lay at the foothills of the mountains surrounding Atun in what was commonly called the Valley of the Lakes. Some distance to the east, the mists of mighty waterfalls painted the skies with rainbow bands as their cascading waves spilled over the edge of a deep canyon. A system of rivers and lakes fed into one another as the glaciers, which capped the surrounding mountains, shed their cover in the heat of the summer air. Between the village and the stretching canyon was the construction site of the great temple. Bodies worked to dig out, carve and shape the surrounding glacier rocks as rays of golden sunlight sparkled off the flecks of iron ore in the dusty air.

  In time, their numbers had grown, as word of the new society spread like brushfires to the villages that lived in the east and west. Streams of nomadic people
s and distant tribes filtered in day after day, bringing with them new customs and acquired knowledge, adding to the pool of information, which fueled the growth of the new nation. Fresh huts were constructed almost daily to accommodate the endless influx of immigrating people, and a tented market grew steadily in the center of the town, showcasing the wares of the cultures that comprised the expanding community.

  Early on, a council of leaders had formed between the chiefs of the eight founding tribes, acting as the law that now ruled over the citizens of the Crescent Lake City. At its head was Teo, cheiftess of the southern river tribe and confidant to the wise and aged Olo. Working diligently, they had bound together the previously fractured tribes of the southern planes, forming a new nation that they called The Peoples of the Great Lakes.

  Children ran and played amongst the hundreds of huts that now surrounded the crescent lake, and many people busied themselves not with the construction of Olo’s temple, but with the task of digging irrigation ditches, and the cultivation of the surrounding plant and animal life. Fruit trees and other edible plants were uprooted and replanted nearer to the town, so that the people could tend to them and produce larger yields. Fishing became regulated and measured to prevent over-netting and wastefulness. Stone walls were raised around the perimeters of the farms to keep out scavenging animals, drawn in from the desert by the smells of garbage and cooking fires. Hunters set out into the marshes and grasslands, not spearing the adult prey they normally stalked but, instead, snatching the babes from their nests and burrows. Squealing and bleating, the young animals were spirited away to wooden pens where they were fattened and bred and slaughtered with ease. A new society was taking its first infantile steps, and it all centered around the raising of Olo’s great monoliths. Without this tribute to the Great Spirits, no tribe would ever dare to live this close to the vengeful Atun.