Colony Down: Battlefield Mars Book 2

by David Robbins

  Private Niven stopped dead and exclaimed, “What the hell was that?”

  “What?” Corporal Arnold said.

  “Something set off my motion sensor.”

  “What did?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Arnold was looking all around. “Where is it? Which direction?”

  “I’m not sure of that, either. It was there and it was gone,” Private Niven said.

  “Your sensor is fritzing,” Corporal Arnold said. “Nothing showed up on mine.”

  “Vishnu preserve us,” Trisna said quietly.

  “What was that?” Corporal Arnold said.

  “I was praying.”

  Another block and a half, and they arrived at the Visitor Center. By then, darkness blanketed the domes, and lights had come on all over Wellsville.

  “Allow me,” Corporal Arnold said, holding the door for them.

  “Don’t forget you promised to get word to Captain Rahn,” Katla reminded him.

  “It’s at the top of my to-do list,” Arnold said.

  “Please,” she said.

  “I told you I would and I will,” Corporal Arnold said. “Now get in and stay put, ladies. If we run into you out here again, I won’t be so nice.” He smiled and shut the door.

  “At least he did not arrest us,” Trisna said.

  Katla stood watching until the quartet reached the next corner. Corporal Arnold and Private Niven went one way, Private Everett and Private Pasco the other. Pasco looked back and started to give a little wave but Everett slapped his arm down.

  “That Pasco is most adorable,” Trisna said.

  Katla had been wondering about something, and said, “You never did tell me what happened to your husband.”

  “He died in New Delhi shortly after Behula was born. He was in construction, and there was a mishap.” Trisna cocked her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.” Katla turned and made for the elevator.

  “I wonder where Carla got to?” Trisna said. “No one is at the front desk.”

  “She could be anywhere,” Katla said. “I just want to eat and lie down for a while.”

  Trisna laughed. “I forget we have our food in my handbag.”

  As the elevator rose, Piotr tiredly placed his cheek against Katla’s leg and closed his eyes.

  “Hang in there,” Katla said.

  Their rooms were 16 and 17 at the end of the hall. No sounds came from the other rooms they passed.

  “There can’t be very many people staying here, as quiet as it is,” Trisna said.

  Katla took out her key card and inserted it into the slot to 16. The light turned green and she worked the handle. A pungent odor assailed her, an all-too-familiar smell that caused a wave of horrific images from New Meridian to wash over her.

  She turned on the light.

  Piotr cried out.

  Trisna turned Behula’s face away.

  For there, lying in a pool of blood, was a headless body. The arms and legs had been ripped off and placed to either side. Untouched by the blood, the nameplate on the blouse was easy to read.

  Carla.

  CHAPTER 23

  The mantle of night cloaked the Red Planet when Captain Archard Rahn entered the Administrative Center with Planetary Scientist Kylo Carter.

  The empty streets reminded Archard of New Meridian, of his attempt to keep the colonists safe by imposing a curfew, only to subsequently discover that sealing and locking doors and windows was no protection against creatures that attacked from below. Inadvertently, he’d turned every home in the colony into a death trap. The memory ate at him like acid.

  Now, as an elevator whisked Carter and him to the top floor, Archard shifted his slung ICW from one shoulder to the other.

  “I still think you should have left that EVA suit at the Security Center,” Carter said. He had suggested as much earlier. “Why wear one when there is no need?”

  “You never know,” Archard said. “If the Martians breach the domes, I’ll be glad I have it on.”

  “They didn’t breach the domes at New Meridian, did they?”

  “Not directly, no.” Archard had given that a lot of thought. “They could have, any time they wanted. Which makes me think, as strange as this sounds, that they wanted to keep the colonists alive so they could kill everyone themselves.”

  “Are you implying they place a premium on personal combat? Like the Spartans of old?”

  “I wouldn’t know about that. All I’m saying is that they didn’t attack our Atmosphere Center. Yet they have to be smart enough to know that if they did, it was all over for us.”

  “Interesting,” the planetary scientist said.

  A bell tinkled as the elevator opened and a simulated female voice announced, ‘Fourth Floor. Executive Offices.’

  “We’re here,” Carter needlessly said.

  A plush hall brought them to wide oak double doors with brass fixtures and large brass letters that proclaimed CHIEF ADMINISTRATOR, and under that, Evander Reubens.

  “Reminds me of politicians on Earth,” Archard said.

  “With their egos and their perks.”

  “Did you expect human nature to change simply because we’re on a new planet?”

  Simulated-wood paneling and a lush lavender carpet lent elegance to the reception area. A striking young woman sat at a desk working. When she looked up and saw who it was, she came to her feet.

  “Mr. Carter! Chief Administrator Reubens is expecting you. He said you’re to go right in.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Thern.”

  The C.A.’s office was fit for Earth royalty. It made C.A. Levlin Winslow’s old office at New Meridian seem puny by comparison. Plush furniture, embossed curtains, a desk as long and wide as a bed, no expense had been spared to ensure that the chief administrator could perform his job in ease and luxury.

  Reubens was at his desk, involved in a call with someone. He wasn’t alone. Four civil servant types were in chairs facing him. All four rose to greet Carter and shake his hand, and then waited for Reubens to get done.

  Archard hung back. It struck him as the height of insanity to indulge in all this petty formality when the welfare of the colony hung in the balance.

  At last, Reubens ended his call and sat up. “Kylo! You’re here at last. And you’ve brought Captain Rahn.”

  “Per your request, so we have access to his expertise,” Carter said.

  “I have to tell you,” Reubens said, stretching. “I’m beginning to think it’s a false alarm. The Martians attacked the agrifarms, yes, but there’s been precious little sign of them here. Major Howard is at the Security Center with Lieutenant Burroughs and Sergeant Kline. They’re monitoring every camera in the colony, and so far there hasn’t been any sign of any Martians. We also have three patrols out, and not one has reported a sighting.”

  Archard felt compelled to ask, “Are Privates Everett and Pasco on those patrols?”

  “They’re paired up, yes, I do believe,” Reubens said. “As are Corporal Arnold with Private Nivens, and Private Bova with Private Heinlein.”

  Those last names meant nothing to Archard. He hadn’t met them yet.

  “The captain was certain the Martians would attack once the sun went down,” Carter mentioned.

  Reubens gestured at a window, at the dome and the stars visible through it. “If that’s the case, they’re taking their sweet time about it.”

  “If you ask me,” a heavyset assistant said, “this is another instance of the military crying wolf. They like to puff out their chests now and then to remind everyone of how important they are.” He smiled at Archard. “No offense meant.”

  “None taken,” Archard lied.

  The intercom buzzed, and Reubens pressed a button. “Yes?”

  “Sir,” the receptionist said. “There’s a woman on line six. She says her name is Dr. Katla Dkany, and that you know her, and that she needs to speak to you right away.”

  Archard took a half-step towar
d the desk.

  Reubens pressed another button above a blinking light. “Dr. Dkany? How good to hear from you again. How may I be of help?”

  “We’re at the Visitor Center…” Katla started to say, the speaker making her voice sound tinny.

  “We?” Reubens interrupted.

  “Trisna Sahir and her daughter and Piotr Zabinski and me.”

  Archard could tell that Katla was upset and trying not to show it. He took another step.

  “Yes, I authorized the vouchers for all of you to stay there, remember?” Reubens was saying.

  “I called to warn you that the Martians are in Wellsville.”

  “My dear woman,” Reubens said patronizingly. “There hasn’t been a sign of them anywhere.”

  “Then you haven’t looked in the Visitor Center,” Katla said. “They’re here, and they’re killing people.”

  Katla had more to say but the line went dead. She tried to get a dial tone but all she heard was a hum.

  “Please, let us leave,” Trisna said from the doorway to the room. She had Behula in one arm and was holding Piotr’s hand. Glancing at the ghastly remains on the floor, she shuddered. “We should have gone the second we saw her.”

  “The C.A. needed to know,” Katla said. “So they can warn everyone.”

  “I don’t hear sirens,” Trisna said.

  “Give it time.” Katla sidled around the body, careful not to step in the blood. Piotr let go of Trisna to dash to her and clutch her hand. Katla was almost to the hall when she stopped and looked back.

  “What?” Trisna said.

  “There’s no hole in the floor. At New Meridian, the Martians always came up through the floors.”

  “We are not at ground level,” Trisna said. “We’re on the second story.”

  “Even so,” Katla said. “Where did the Martian come from? Where did it get to?”

  Trisna flinched as if she’d been slapped. She fearfully looked down the hallway, then at the walls and the ceiling. “It could be anywhere. They cling to things like flies.”

  Treading lightly, they started back down the hall. At the next room, Katla stopped again. Putting a finger to her lips, she pressed an ear to the door. She heard nothing. She tried the handle, but without the proper key card, she couldn’t open it.

  “What are you doing?” Trisna whispered.

  “There might be others like Carla.”

  “We can do them no good on our own,” Trisna said. “We need soldiers.” She paused. “And I still do not hear sirens.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “Thank Vishnu,” Trisna said.

  The elevator was still on their floor. Katla pressed the down button and when the doors slid open, she cautiously checked inside. No Martians.

  Trisna moved to a corner. “This might have been a trap. They let us come up so they could cut us off, and they’ll be waiting below.”

  “We only saw the one out in the street,” Karla said as the doors closed.

  “Where there is one, there are hundreds. You know that as well as I.”

  The elevator braked, and Karla tensed. If Trisna was right, they would be swarmed the moment the doors opened.

  “Katla?” Piotr said in dismay. “What do we do?”

  “Be strong.”

  The doors hissed, revealing an empty lobby.

  Katla pulled Piotr toward the entrance. She figured to head for U.N.I.C. headquarters. That was where she would probably find Archard. It also promised to be the safest place in Wellsville, what with the troopers and their armaments.

  “I hate this,” Trisna whispered. “It reminds me too much of before.”

  Katla felt Piotr’s hand tremble. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Yet,” Trisna said.

  With the stars out, the shadows had lengthened. The empty streets and the eerie silence compounded Katla’s unease. She had been incredibly lucky to survive the attack on New Meridian. She might not be so lucky this time.

  Staying close to the buildings, she proceeded at a slow clip. There was no sense in running with everyone so tired, and eight or nine blocks to travel.

  Trisna practically trod on her heels. When Katla thought she heard a sound and stopped, Trisna bumped into her.

  “A little space, if you don’t mind.”

  “I am sorry. I’m scared.”

  Katla listened, but the sound wasn’t repeated. She continued on. Perhaps, she told herself, there were only a few Martians. Otherwise, she would be hearing screams and wails and the din of widespread destruction.

  Behind her, Trisna gasped.

  Katla glanced back. “What is it now?”

  Trisna pointed at the rooftop across the street.

  At first, Katla didn’t realize what she was seeing. Decorative protrusions on the coping, she assumed. Then a pair of the protrusions moved, swaying from side to side, and her blood turned to ice as it dawned on her that they were eyes. Lots and lots of Martian eyes. Peering over the roof, at them.

  “We are dead,” Trisna said.

  CHAPTER 24

  Levlin Winslow had never been so excited in his life. As he scrabbled from the huge cavern with Nilista at his side, the irony didn’t elude him. The two of them were part of a great swarm of Martians flowing up through a network of tunnels toward the underside of Wellsville, intent on ripping apart beings from his former homeworld and turning them into creatures just like him.

  Winslow had no reservations whatsoever. He liked his new form, his new body, and his newfound mental abilities. Or sentient abilities, as the Martians would describe them. He was more alive than he had ever been, more aware of himself and everything around him.

  “You are happy, my bindmate,” Nilista’s consciousness flowed into his.

  “Never more so,” Winslow admitted.

  “Your conversion to the Unity has gone well. On rare occasions, they do not. I am glad you have not had any difficulties.”

  Winslow’s senses registered the dimensions of the tunnel and the presence of the other Martians without him having to think about it. The tunnel was new, dug by giant drillers for the attack on the colony. “What kind of difficulties?”

  “Some are unable to join their sentience to the

  Unity,” Nilista said. “Others go mad.”

  “What happens to them?”

  “Those who cannot achieve Unity are spared further aloneness by being reduced to their component elements.”

  “They are killed?”

  “They are destroyed, yes,” Nilista said. “What else is there to do for them? Those who exist outside the Unity are particles of emptiness who contribute nothing of worth to the Source of All. So their sentience is extracted and returned to the Oversoul.”

  “The what?” It was the first time Winslow had heard the term.

  “I will educate you on the Oversoul later, after we have converted the Blue Worlders above us. In the meantime, you might work on yet another aspect of your conversion.”

  “Which is?”

  “When our conscious selves merge, I can sense that you still refer to yourself with your former name. You are one of us now. One of the Unity. You should use your Unity name.”

  “I didn’t know I had one.”

  “You are known by us as Kralun. Unlike Blue World names, which have simple meanings, our names are compounded of deeper significance. Yours means relishes-eager-overcomes.”

  Winslow rolled his new name on his mental tongue, enjoying the soundless sound of it. “Kralun,” he repeated. “I like it.”

  “You are it and it is you. Be it. Think it. Let the name

  Winslow be of the past. A memory that will fade until there is only Kralun.”

  “I see the wisdom of that,” Winslow thought, and corrected himself with, Kralun sees the wisdom, Kralun sees the wisdom, Kralun sees the wisdom.

  “I am proud of you, bindmate.”

  “And I am grateful that you are. You do me great honor, Nilista.”

  “When I fir
st touched your mind, I liked the taste of you. I sensed your potential. Sensed that you and I could enjoy the deep and full rapture of being one.”

  “I have never known such joy as I did when we joined bodies.”

  “You will experience that joy many times in our long lives together.”

  “I have died and gone to heaven.”

  “The context is new to me.”

  “It is an expression from the Blue World.”

  “That life is dead to you. Immerse yourself in the new and let the old pass away.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “And remember,” Nilista said. “Once we leave these tunnels, we must use the utmost stealth. The Hryghr would have us fill every shadow with our numbers, and at their signal, rush out together. It will be over before the Blue Worlders can fight back, and we will lose but few.”

  “I hope it works.”

  “How can it not? We are of the Unity and in the Unity, and the Unity always prevails. Rest secure in that knowledge, Kralun.”

  “Yes,” Kralun said. “I will.”

  The terror in Piotr Zabinski’s eyes spurred Katla into scooping him into her arms and saying, “Run!” She took her own advice and sprinted toward the next corner. Any moment, she expected the creatures to pour down the side of the building and overwhelm them.

  Behind her, Trisna huffed and puffed.

  Katla did some puffing of her own. Piotr wasn’t light, somewhere between sixty and seventy pounds. She would rather put him down and have him run on his own but he was frozen in fear.

  “Why are they not after us?” Trisna said.

  Katla reached the junction and stopped to look back. The Martians were still up there, their eyes swaying and bobbing as they always did. But the creatures hadn’t given chase.

  “I do not understand,” Trisna said.

  “Keep running!” Katla urged. She turned to continuing fleeing and collided with someone coming the other way. Stumbling, she dropped Piotr, who managed to land on his feet. She was appalled to realize she had collided with a trooper and blurted, “Please don’t arrest us! We have a reason for being outside!”

  “Relax, Doc. It’s only Pasco and me,” Private Everett said, cradling his weapon.