“Dammit, Cage, I never thought you were so heavy.”
“Luther, tell her to get out of here. The smoke will clear in a few minutes, and they’ll start blasting.”
“I told her that, but she wasn’t having any of it.”
Rose appeared and helped the Marine vet lift him into the vehicle, her eyes filled with concern at the damage to his body. He managed a grin. “Hey, it doesn’t hurt. You were married to a Lifer. It’s like putting bullets into a machine. No blood, no pain.”
“There’s no way we can go back to the facility to find you more pants.”
Luther chuckled. “There you go, Cage. All sympathy.”
They closed the tailgate. She climbed into the driving seat and began driving back up the slope. Her progress was slow and careful. The SUV was no Hagglund, but they had a stroke of luck. The wind blew the smoke their way, and the cloud covered their retreat from the devastation and death below. At the top, the forest swallowed them, and she began putting some space between them and the cops. The smoke, combined with the silent running of the Falcon's electrics, made them almost invisible for the time being.
When she spoke, her voice was soft, “I was worried about you, Cage. I didn’t mean it, about the pants. I’m taking a different route to reach the RV with Colonel Travers. There’ll be roadblocks all around this place.’
“You can get through?”
“Try me.”
They crested the top of the hill, and she tucked in beneath a heavy canopy of foliage on the very edge of the forest. Below, the area was a patchwork of forests, fields, and farms. The spidery network of roads had acquired new visitors. More of the military Vultures had landed on flat ground adjacent to the main highway. Soldiers had placed improvised barriers to slow and stop the traffic.
He pushed himself up, using his arms. “Can you avoid them? And the drones as well, they’ll be back the moment we emerge in the open.”
“You’ll see.”
It was an old railway line, built more than a hundred years before to carry minerals and timber, and take back machinery and building materials for the plant. The rusting, single line track followed a shallow culvert, and the passage of time had surrounded it with more of the enveloping trees and bushes.
“Rob and me used to come here, in the early days.”
Her voice thickened, and he knew she wished things were different. Wished he hadn’t died on Mars, that events hadn’t conspired to thrust the reminder of that terrible time into her life. She didn’t speak again, not until they left the culvert and passed the threat of the roadblocks. The SUV regained the metaled road, and they were two klicks from the motel where they’d planned to meet Travers. Minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot and shut down the SUV. Daylight had fled, and he felt a certain security under the blanket of darkness. It wouldn’t last, couldn’t last. Drones could see through darkness, almost as well as during the day, a green, monochrome image, true. But electronic minds really couldn’t give a damn whether the image was dark gray or glorious Technicolor. Either it was a target or it wasn’t.
“It’s not your fault, Cage.” She’d turned to look at him, “He was a victim, and you were a victim. I’m a victim. Luther here is a victim. He’s caught up in it, too. Rob has gone, and now it’s just us. If we’re going to honor his sacrifice, it’s not by moping about it.”
“Nor by dying for it. You know you’ve become a prime target. Whatever is causing them to want to kill me; by helping me you’ve put yourself on the same list. It’s not too late. You could get out now. Maybe persuade them I forced you to help me, said I’d kill you if you didn’t.”
Her gaze was intense. “And how would that bring down the bastards who murdered Rob and your men on Mars?”
“I just meant…”
“Forget it. This looks like your Colonel Travers.”
The minivan stopped next to them, and an older, avuncular man with white hair, a large frame and wearing a stern expression, stepped out into the dim parking lot. He wore civilian clothes, tan chinos, and a loose, dark green canvas waistcoat with a multitude of bulging pockets. Like some absent-minded professor, always tinkering with old gadgets. He looked inside the SUV and whistled.
“Lieutenant Cage, you’ve been back in battle. I didn’t know there was a war going on Earthside.”
“Good to see you, Colonel, and thanks for coming. It’s a bit of a mess, I’m afraid.”
“We’ll see. Orville, give me a hand to lift this man across to our workshop.”
Orville was his orderly, more of a laboratory assistant, a short, wiry man with thick pebble lensed glasses. Unusual in a society where most used laser correction goggles. Interfaced with almost any computer, and a three minutes staring into the lenses, gave the most shortsighted the vision of a space jock. Or perhaps his myopia was recent, and he’d decided to take note of the rash of people blinded by the wonder gadget, after quality control plummeted at the factory that made them.
They lay him on a low padded bench, like a therapist’s couch. Orville passed him the instruments, and Travers went to work. His movements were deft and fast, as he pulled out circuit boards and socketed in replacement servomotors. All the while he talked to himself as he watched the monitor of a handheld diagnostic instrument. Rose had entered the cramped space and was standing close to the door, watching.
“Can you fix him up, Colonel?”
He gave her a warm smile. Most men gave Rose Romero warm smiles. She was that kind of girl. “I can patch him up, sure. Apart from the bullet wound to his shoulder, it’s a matter of plug and play, an undergraduate student could do it.”
“His shoulder?”
He pointed to where he’d cut away the shirt and exposed a row of stitches. “He was lucky. The bullet went through the adipose layer. Nothing serious, but he’ll need to give himself up. He can’t go on like this.”
Cage listened intently, and her eyes were cold. “They’re trying to kill him, to kill us, you know that?”
“I know it got messy out in that forest, but I’ll make some calls, and clear it with the military people. They’ll call off the hunt, and you can come in. There’ll be an inquiry, of course, but I’ve no doubt…”
“Men died, Colonel. Deputies, MPs, we left a trail of bodies up there.”
A pause. “I see. Self-defense?”
“It was, yes,” Cage said, moving his head and neck around, and starting to feel fresh power cycling through his limbs, “They came after me, started shooting, and I had no choice.”
“If it was self-defense, that makes it justifiable. I’ll contact them, and make things right.” He chuckled, “I’ll convince them it was a programming malfunction. You're a registered war veteran, and hero of the last war.”
“It won’t work, Colonel. They already wanted me dead, before all this started.”
“I don’t understand. Why would they want you dead?”
“I wish I knew. It all goes back to…” he stared up into the night sky. The bright light from a planet was like some distant night-light in a child’s nursery. Mars was at its apogee, and the lighters would be rendezvousing with the massive Cyclers as they circled the two planets, Earth and Mars, in their ceaseless and perpetual journey that would never end, “To Mars. To when our unit got hit.”
Travers looked skeptical. “I very much doubt it. The military is more transparent these days. A cover-up is almost impossible.”
“It was more than a cover-up, Colonel. The airburst was targeted.”
He grimaced. “I still don’t believe it, but I’ll talk to them, see if I can’t call off the dogs. Where do you plan to go from here? Your best bet would be to come with me and surrender to the authorities. There’s no other way to get this resolved.”
“No!” Rose spoke quietly, but her voice rang with determination, “My husband was one of the victims, and I’ve seen them trying to kill this man. There’s a reason out there somewhere, and I intend to find it. We intend to find it.” She looked a
t Cage, and he nodded.
“They want me dead as well, Colonel Travers, so we don’t have anything to lose. We need to find out why. We need the answers.”
He sighed. “I don’t agree. I think you’ll cause yourselves a lot more grief. But assuming you do continue on this quest,” he smiled to make it clear the quixotic word wasn’t meant as an insult, “Where would you go? Where would you start looking?”
As if by telepathy, Cage and Rose looked out the open door, up into the night sky, to the bright light hovering low on the northern horizon.
“There’s just one place to get those answers, Sir.”
Cage looked at Travers, and his mind was made up, “Back to where it all happened.” He raised a hand, and pointed, “That’s where we’re going.”
“Mars?”
Rose nodded emphatically. “Mars, there’s nowhere else.”
“You’re going to Mars?” the scrawny Orville said in an astonished gasp, “But…”
“No buts. That’s where I’m going.”
“That’s some coincidence,” Travers frowned, “I have an ongoing research project on Mars. It’s…but I can’t talk about it. It’s classified.”
Cage gave him an astonished gaze. “You’re working for the Martians?”
“I work for the PanAm military, Lieutenant. That means obeying orders. If they order me to a posting on Jupiter, I make sure to pack plenty of warm clothing.” He chuckled, “And make certain my will is up to date. Cage, I know how you feel about Mars and the Martians, and I share many of those views. But I’m a scientist, and I also believe in the free exchange of ideas. No matter what they are.”
“When do you leave, Sir?”
“Soon, which means I won’t be available Earthside for a time, although Orville can take my messages. Even from Mars, I can still help you out. Any problems, contact Orville. And Cage…”
“Sir?”
“Don’t go to Mars, even if you could get there. It’s not my business, but stay away from Mars. You nearly died the last time you were on the planet. You may not be so lucky next time.”
He met the Colonel’s eyes. “You call that lucky?”
“Yeah, I get that. But you’re alive. You won’t be if you make the trip.”
Rose took Cage’s hand, a symbolic uniting of two people in a single purpose. “If Noah says the answers are on Mars, that’s where we’re going.” She grinned, “Besides, if I let this guy out of my sight for more than a few hours, he’ll wind up dead. There’s just one person who can hunt out the answers up there. Me. That was my job at Green Bank, finding answers. Different planet; is all. Colonel, maybe he could look you up should he need help.”
He looked away, embarrassed. “No, I doubt that. Mars is…you got the right word. Mars is a different planet.”
Luther chose that moment to put this head through the door. “Did I hear what I thought I heard? Mars?”
Cage and Romero answered as one, “Mars.”
“How in the hell do we get to Mars?”
Cage’s voice was grim. “Same way everyone else does. We go to Washington Spaceport.”
Part Two - Mars
Chapter Five
Tharsis Spaceport, Mars
“Where are they? Jesus Christ, we can’t have missed them.”
Vos eyed the General, weighed his mood, and decided to stay silent. He turned his attention to the viewport of the six hundred-meter high security tower. They'd made it almost their permanent home, during the days and weeks since they’d arrived.
On the first evening, the Head of Security, Tharsis Spaceport, had invited them to his home for a reception. Mansion would be a more suitable word to describe the dwelling. Set on one of the many low hills deep inside the center of the thriving metropolis of Tharsis City, it commanded magnificent views across the region. Decades earlier this had been the sight of the first major colony, where explorers and engineers had taken advantage of the respite offered by the mountain ranges. What started as deep core water drilling and mines for the deposits of ore and gems evolved into the wealthy city of today. Earthside, the wealthy lived in gated communities. On Mars they called them fortified communities; guards everywhere, watchful, on patrol. Their weapons were not just handguns, which most RedCorp personnel carried as a matter of course. They carried heavier weapons, including the ubiquitous railguns. They’d long ago lost their bright patina of newness.
The Earthsiders had been ill at ease, still suffering from the cramped confinement of their journey. In addition, they had the effects of reduced gravity to adjust to. The Security Director, Vladimir Laszlo, worked hard to make them welcome, but their unease was hard to shake. They’d traveled on the surface, and Vos wondered where were the great slum settlements of Valles Marineris. Rumors he’d heard of the deep tunnels and frozen townships. The long transport tunnels, and the pneumatic tube transportation systems were the stuff of almost myth on Earth. Fast, and apparently completely automated. Vos had been curious to see that, but instead they were driving on the surface of the dead world.
The trip from the spaceport to the city proper was inside a glamorous shuttle car big enough to house a dozen people in opulent comfort. Instead it was just them; surrounded in curved glass and sitting upon large, comfortable leather seats. Small curricular tables filled out the center, with wine on tap for those in need of refreshment. The automated capsule traveled through a translucent tube along the surface before reaching the outskirts of Tharsis City. Once the transport penetrated the outer regions, they’d been treated to a lavish ringside view of the high-end bars, cafes, and malls that filled the place. Office buildings and stores were just as numerous, showing off the wealth and success of the alien environment. He'd imagined the entire area covered by a single dome, but in reality the inhabited parts were covered in dozens, perhaps hundreds of large domes, each hundreds of meters high and glistening in the sunlight. It looked like a sea of interconnected mounds, each filled with so many people going about their lives. Vos snorted as he watched.
So this is where all our cash goes. Damn Martians!
The trip had taken longer than expected. That first evening should have been a time for them to relax. Surrounded by willing waiters to serve drinks and bring them food, it was outwardly a genial occasion. Underneath it was anything but genial. The cold interior of the spacious dwelling was Spartan. Hard couches scattered around an otherwise bare, artificial marble floor. Artificial marble walls, hard, like Laszlo.
Weeks after that first night, Vos still felt uneasy inside the tower, just as he had in Laszlo’s mansion. He tried to put it down to the unending journey. He felt lighter on Mars and a lot stronger. It was disorienting, but left him feeling more powerful and important than ever before. He might lack the money and the connections, but out here he was a superman, by virtue of his Earthside heritage and upbringing. The sensation wasn’t helped by the handgun strapped to the belt of every hard-faced RedCorp staffer wandering the corridors of the terminal.
Why are these people so tense? If this is Paradise, what are they afraid of?
Laszlo continued to offer Hartmann as much assistance as he needed. “Tell me what you want, General, and it’s yours. The war’s over, we want you to see us Martians as your friends.” The smile was a brief, chilly parting of the thin lips. Like a narrow metal slot opening and clamping tight shut, “We’re here to help you, and start a new era of cooperation.”
“It’s much appreciated, Sir.”
He was like a kid who’d woken up in a toyshop. During the long voyage, Hartmann had made it clear where his admiration lay. “We’re heading to paradise, Sheriff. Mars is like nothing you’ve seen before. You’ll see when you get there, I promise. It’s a land that shouldn’t be capable of supporting life, yet somehow everything works. People live good lives, and we could learn some lessons from those people.”
“It must seem strange, General, after you fought them during the Wars. Isn’t it a little odd being around your enemy?”
He waved the comment away. “Yes, it might seem that way.”
Neither said a thing for some time, but the General sensed Vos was uneasy.
“The war was a mistake, and we paid the price. We have a lot to learn from these people. The main problem is getting others to toe the line. It falls to people like me to do what needs to be done, and if some get in the way…”
He ran a finger along his throat, raised an eyebrow, and looked away. Vos kept the attentive smile fixed on his face.
Three wars, three mistakes, mistakes that cost tens of thousands of lives, and almost bankrupted PanAmerica.
He’d begun to see Hartmann in a new way, different to his first impressions. Beneath the hard-driving and hardass military hero exterior, lay something else, darker, deeper, a bully who led a gang of bullies. Bowen learned the hard way how he dealt with disagreement, when he pressed him to clarify their mission while they were in the mess.
“What I mean is, General Hartmann, what are the charges against Cage? What’s the big deal?”
The look back told him everything he needed to know, pure arrogance and dismissal.
A snort. “If you don’t know that, Mister, you should hand in your badge.”
Vos could feel rage building in his body, that surge of adrenalin he always felt before a brawl. He deserved respect from this man, and every single time he chose a different route.
“I know he’s a cop killer.” His nostrils flared, and he clenched and unclenched his fists before continuing, “But why did you come after him?”
“Because he’s a war criminal, that’s why.”
“Yes, Sir, you said that, but I asked what did he do. What are the charges?”
He gave a slight nod to Master Sergeant Guzman, who was nearest to Bowen. The MP grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in. “You watch your mouth, kid. If the General says he’s a war criminal, that’s good enough for any of us. Got it?”
Last Life (Lifers Book 1) Page 13
