Martian Quadrilogy Box Set

by Brandon Ellis

  Pain shot up her arm, and she screamed and kicked off of him, flipping in the air and landing on her feet. She unholstered her other gun and pointed it at Quad.

  He turned and faced her. He stepped forward, his breath coming hard and heavy, but he paused when he saw Lou’s body and gazed down saying, “Did I do this?”

  “You know you did,” Jozi said as she took a step back.

  “That’s not what I was hired to do. I was hired to kill Ozzy Mack, the criminal. Though, if I keep him alive and take him to the one who paid me, I will get a bonus allotment.” He pulled a gold ball from a pouch around his belt and tossed it on Lou’s body. The ball transformed into a spider-like robot and crawled as quick as a flash to Lou’s mouth, squirming inside.

  “You sick freak,” said Jozi.

  Ozzy sucked in a breath. Whatever Quad was doing wasn’t good. He pushed off the ground with both of his hands and reached for his holster.

  A cough came from Lou. Ozzy relaxed his hand. The spider crawled out of Lou’s mouth and jumped toward Quad while turning back into a golden ball. Quad caught it.

  Ozzy ran to his brother. “You’re alive?”

  Lou touched his stomach. “What just happened?”

  “After I secure you or kill you, Ozzy, your friends need to get that guy to a hospital,” said Quad, his voice strangely full of compassion.

  Ozzy’s eyes widened. Shit suddenly wasn’t making sense. “Why did you save him?”

  “I’m hired to kill or secure criminals. I’m not hired to kill innocent bystanders, and even if I were, I wouldn’t do it,” said Quad, his gruff voice penetrating right to the bone.

  Ozzy stood, frowning. “But you killed his wife. She was an innocent bystander.”

  Quad tipped his head to the side. “On the contrary. She was already dead when I arrived. I would have held her at gunpoint, but I would never have taken a shot.”

  “The High Judge,” Jozi said, her eyes and rifle dead-centered on Quad. “He must have commissioned it to be done.” She shook her head and looked down for a moment. “No, he couldn’t have. My uncle is not a monster.”

  “Enough talk. I have to complete what I was hired to do.” Quad lunged for Ozzy.

  Gragas jumped through the shield. Daggers glistened on his battle suit’s armor.

  Gragas advanced and kicked Quad in the chest, sending him against the wall. He pulled out a long, black metallic device and threw it at Quad. It sunk around his neck. Dagger-like prongs shot out on either end, cracking through the rock and digging in.

  Quad grabbed the device and pulled. It didn’t budge. “Let me out.”

  “Ozzy, let him be for now. You can’t kill him. He’s too technologically advanced, making him fast and nearly unstoppable.” Gragas pointed to Quad’s neck. “He’ll eventually get the digger cuff off. I’ll stay with Jozi. I don’t know what I’m looking for in there so you’ll have to go inside.” He looked at the daggers stuck in his suit. “There are traps everywhere.”

  Ozzy nodded. He looked at his brother, and his eyes flickered with disbelief, but a wave of calm washed through his body. Lou was alive and, for right now, he’d use that as a plus for the day.

  “Alright,” he told Gragas. “I’m going in.” He stepped through the shield.

  12

  Ares Monument, Mars

  He surveyed the room, and his chin dropped to his chest. “The puzzle of all puzzles.”

  This wasn’t going to be easy.

  Ozzy walked forward, heading toward a myriad of doors lining a rock wall in front of him. Different colors coated each door. One open door displayed daggers over the entrance. Obviously, the door Gragas opened.

  Ozzy took a step forward, looking around, but his mind was on his brother. Lou was alive and Quad saved him.

  If life wasn’t confusing enough.

  He continued to eye the doors. In the middle of each one was a button, which, when pressed, would open it. No telling how many death traps were behind them.

  He thought for a moment about how the glyphs outside had told him that everything was opposite.

  “What’s the opposite of these doors?” A door was an entryway, so the doors in front of him had to be physically opened.

  His eyes shifted from left to right, and he saw a narrow gap between two of the doors that was wide enough to walk through.

  “The opposite is not to open a door. Maybe?” His footfalls echoed as he neared the gap and advanced through, the walls nearly touching his shoulders.

  The Ancient Martians would have had to walk sideways to get through this corridor.

  Thump!

  His head whipped back, and his helmet hit something hard. He stumbled but managed to keep his balance.

  What did he hit? He extended his arms and reached out as one of his hands touched something solid and cool to the touch.

  Was that glass?

  He shook his head.

  “Opposite. Everything is opposite.”

  He stepped forward again, slamming into the invisible and transparent wall.

  “How do I get past this?” He tapped his helmet. “Think, think. Opposite.”

  His mind raced with images and ideas. If he couldn’t walk through the wall, then…

  He looked up and shook his head. The transparent wall reached all the way to the ceiling and would hinder anyone from climbing over it.

  “Think opposite, Ozzy,” he said. He pushed out his lower lip. “Walk through it?”

  The thought seemed silly. How could he walk through a wall?

  The Ancient Coptics were all about having faith, and maybe that’s what he needed to do. Would that reverse the transparent wall, turning it into something he could pass through?

  It made little sense and was a strange set of physics, but thinking the opposite of wall might just work.

  He walked onward. “The wall is water. The wall is water,” he repeated over and over and closed his eyes.

  He took several steps and flung open his eyes, gasping. He was walking well passed the barrier and toward a “T” in this strange hallway.

  A thunderous sound roared through the room in front of him, and he lurched away with a start.

  “Now what?” He looked up and all around. He didn’t see anything even though the thunderous sound was approaching closer and closer.

  He peeked around the corner and nearly tripped over his own feet at what he saw. The sound was coming from a creature with sharp fangs protruding out of its mouth. Its ears were pulled back and its muzzle wide open, letting out a plethora of predatory noises.

  The creature, about fifty meters away, eyed Ozzy and rushed forward, a deep growl thundering from its throat.

  Ozzy jumped back, bumping against something. “What the Mars?”

  He turned. The gap he walked through was closing and filling in with a rock wall that moved toward him with increasing speed.

  He pushed back against the wall, digging his boots into the floor. The wall continued moving and sliding him forward.

  Crap.

  He turned, pushing the wall with his hands. It stopped moving, and he let out a sigh then he went rigid. He was fully exposed to an oncoming ancient creature readying to end his miserable existence.

  He pulled his gun out of the holster and aimed at the beast.

  He got on one knee, closed one eye, and shot. The photon bolt boomed from the muzzle, and smoke rose toward the ceiling.

  The shot sunk into the predator’s forehead, practically disappearing and showing no physical damage. “What the hell?”

  The creature dashed forward, opening its mouth wider. Saliva dripped from its razor-sharp fangs.

  Ozzy took another shot with the same results—nothing.

  “Oh no, this is not good.”

  The monster was only ten meters away.

  Ozzy pulled the trigger again. The shot didn’t faze the furry creature and seemed to go right through the thing.

  “Think opposite, Ozzy. Think opposite,” he told himse
lf.

  The beast leaped with its claws extended.

  Ozzy threw up his arms to protect his head and chest and fell to the floor, waiting for the inevitable.

  13

  Ares Monument, Mars

  Ozzy curled himself into a fetal position waiting for the beast’s fangs to rip through his suit and tear him to shreds.

  Of all things, Lily’s picture he used to display on Relic’s flight console flashed in his mind. His insides lit up like the first day she was born. It was beyond love and something he had never experienced before.

  He pushed the thought away and went into a tighter ball, waiting and wondering why that particular thought popped into his head at a moment like this.

  Ozzy felt warmth travel through his EVA suit from the animal’s breath, and his nose crinkled from its wet smell.

  As he said his prayers and waited to die, he brought the most important aspect of his life to the forefront of his mind again—Lily.

  He saw her sweet smile. Her beautiful blue eyes. Her rosy cheeks. She was his good luck charm and, for some reason, he was her hero.

  He curled himself further into a ball, squeezing his knees into his chest. His thoughts rushed back to reality, and he blinked away memories of his daughter.

  After a few more seconds, again, nothing happened.

  “Huh?” By now he should have been gobbled up and inside the animal’s belly. He slowly moved his arm away from his radiation visor and peeked past his forearms.

  The giant, slobbering predator was sitting on its haunches and panting like a happy puppy.

  What the heck was going on?

  “Wait,” he mumbled, thinking out loud. “The opposite of fear is love.” Was the loving thoughts of his daughter what caused this half-bear, half-sabertooth tiger to change his mood and sit on its hind legs?

  It had to be.

  Ozzy slowly stood, his body shaking from the adrenaline rush. “Hey, buddy.” He put his hands out to show he wasn’t going to harm the looming animal. “Thank you for not eating me.”

  The creature blinked its big brown eyes and tilted its head.

  “Okay,” said Ozzy. “I’m gonna go bye-bye now before you change your mind and have me for lunch.”

  He started to back up but stopped, remembering the way out was blocked. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and tiptoed the opposite direction of the creature.

  If he couldn’t leave by the way he arrived, he could surely get as far from this predator as possible in the other direction. Hopefully.

  The animal whined.

  Ozzy kept walking.

  The whine grew louder.

  Ozzy turned around, going against his survival instincts. “Yes?”

  The creature was lying down and resting its muzzle on its front paws. It raised its eyebrows and its eyes rounded.

  “Oh boy,” said Ozzy. “You want me to pet you, don’t you?”

  The half-bear, half-sabertooth’s tongue hung out. Its bushy tail thumped against the floor and wagged back and forth.

  Ozzy reached out with his hand, moving closer to the animal’s front legs.

  Kashiiiish!

  Ozzy jumped out of the way, instinctively covering his helmet and going into a crouch.

  “What was that?”

  He slowly removed his hands from his helmet, and his mouth went agape. The animal was a pile of holographic glass, and its shards were spread all over.

  “Damn, these Ancients and their holograms,” he said, remembering when he came upon the hologram of an Ancient Martian named Heimer who also shattered just before Ozzy entered the Ark of the Concordant’s holding room.

  “Good times,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  What happened to the good old days when being hired for a dig by a crime lord was fun and when the most dangerous aspect was flying his rig from one place to the next?

  He walked down the short hallway and rounded the corner. His arms windmilled. “Whoa!” His toes tingled.

  He took a quick step back, regaining balance at the edge of a cliff. His heart pounded several beats faster, and his breaths came quickly.

  He glanced over the edge and saw nothing but blackness staring back at him. “A bottomless pit?”

  His eyes darted around this portion of the room. “Hmm, a small canyon.”

  Steadying himself, he took a few more steps back and glanced across the canyon. Fresh energy rushed through him. Could that be what he came for?

  A blue, beautiful crystal ball, about the size of a bowling ball from old Earth he had seen in docuvids, was—defying gravity!

  The sphere, hovering in the middle of the canyon, glistened and glittered, and a blue-green gas twirled like a whirlpool in its center.

  He crossed his arms and let out an exasperated breath. “Now, how on Mars am I going to get that?”

  14

  Ares Monument, Mars

  Ozzy eyed the area for several minutes trying to find some way, any way, to get that crystal sphere.

  He paced and tapped his helmet trying to force inspiring thoughts into his brain.

  His com line crackled, and a female’s laughter echoed through his helmet.

  He halted. “Jozi?”

  “No, not her,” came the reply. “Now, my question. Do you think you can get the crystal sphere?” the voice boomed, this time coming through the walls and ceiling as well as inside his helmet.

  Ozzy moaned. Was this another Ancient Martian trick? “Who is this?”

  “I’m the architect of this place. Your vocal cords are not sophisticated enough to say my name, but you may call me Shar.”

  Ozzy glanced at the sphere. He could think up a million questions to ask the designer—if that’s who she was—but he didn’t want to waste time. “Well, Shar, how do I get the crystal sphere?”

  “You’ve come this far, can’t you figure it out? It’s quite simple, really. You were obviously able to walk through many areas that would be too difficult for anyone other than those with the bloodline. In other words, your brain synapses function faster than the rest of your race. Figuring this out should be easy.”

  Ozzy snorted. “Yeah, I’m the exception, honey. My synapses are normal if not worse. So, tell me how to get the sphere.”

  “No.”

  Ozzy shrugged. “Okay.” He stood back and stared at the sphere. What’s the opposite of emptiness? What’s the opposite of falling down a deep, dark pit?

  “A bridge.”

  He let out a huff. Did he have to imagine a bridge in order to walk to the crystal?

  “Nope, not going to try that,” he whispered to himself.

  It wasn’t the same thing as imagining a transparent wall was water as he had imagined before meeting the snarling beast. If he had been incorrect about the wall, he would have simply bounced off of it and been fine.

  This bridge scenario didn’t sit well. If he were wrong, he would surely fall to his death.

  “Shar,” said Ozzy. “Are you alive?”

  “Yes, very much so.”

  “Are you an AI?”

  “No.”

  Ozzy arched his eyebrows. “Then you are like Garen who was the keeper of the underground garden capsule where the cure for the Martian Plague was buried, and you have been able to stay alive all these years through suspended animation?”

  Shar laughed. “Contrary. I have the technology to extend my DNA telomeres.”

  “Are there more of you?”

  “Good question,” Shar said.

  “And your answer?”

  She did not respond.

  Ozzy shook his head. That just wasted more of his already precious time.

  “Listen, Ozzy,” said Shar. “We—”

  “How do you know my name?”

  Shar paused and cleared her throat. “Well, we watch you, and we watch many others with the bloodline.”

  “Right…are you inside Ares Monument right now?”

  “We have a proposition. We will give you the sphere if you give
us your blood.”

  Ozzy’s eyes about shot out of his head. He slowly inched backward and headed the way he had come. “I’m good. Thank you.”

  “Only a prick of blood.”

  “What for?” He continued walking.

  “To access something beyond your capability to understand.”

  Ozzy vehemently shook his head. He wouldn’t give them as much as a hair sample. “I’d rather not.”

  “It will be very useful to us.”

  “I’m sure it would. There are more of the bloodline, so ask one of them?”

  “Then you leave us no choice.”

  A blue beam of light shot down from the ceiling.

  Armor clattered as the light dispersed, revealing a gang of twenty or more battle suit-wearing, twelve foot or taller, Martians standing before him.

  They held up their shields and pointed their guns at him.

  “Zoowa!” they yelled in unison.

  Ozzy froze in place. He was a dead man.

  “Did you want to change your mind, Ozzy?” Shar asked.

  Ozzy suppressed a shudder. “Uh…give me a minute.”

  15

  Ares Monument, Mars

  Now what?

  He was surrounded by muscle-clad, armor-wearing, twelve-foot Beings that no doubt wanted to blow his brains out.

  Which wouldn’t be too difficult.

  Ozzy rubbed his arm. “Shar?”

  “Yes, Ozzy?”

  “I’m still—”

  A soldier glitched and faded in and out. Ozzy cocked his head. Was that another hologram? “Are these real people in front of me, Shar?”

  No reply.

  “Are you real?” He knew he posed that question before, but he had to ask it again. Shar was probably nothing more than another artificial intelligence voice left here since the Martian days. But why would she need his blood?