by Ian Miller
No matter. This had to be considered just another duty. Yet this was strange. Here he was, expected for an important meeting, at least so he was told, and nobody was answering the door. The door was slightly ajar. Go in, or go back? It would hardly be good diplomacy to go back.
"Anyone there?"
No answer. What's the driver think? He seems to think I should go in. So be it. Still nobody in sight. So much for the mayor wanting to meet me personally. It's so quiet, there can't be anyone here. Wait! A slight smell! There's something wrong . . .
* * *
As consciousness began to return, Gaius became aware of a thumping pain in the back of his head. There was a vile taste on the roof of his mouth, and his eyes could see only grey, out of focus. He rubbed his eyes, and looked around. He had been stretched out on a small wooden divan, in a small stone-lined cell, with a heavy steel barred door.
"You came unarmed!" The voice, Gaius sensed, contained a touch of fear, in case the statement was wrong. Unfortunately, it was correct. He had his Krezell wand, but it must be shielded by something because it was incapable of doing anything. Gaius rolled over and saw the shape peering around the edge of the door. He blinked to bring it into better focus. Yes, it was familiar, but where?
"Who are you?" Gaius tried.
"Troy Munro, since you wish to know. Perhaps you have heard of me?"
"Can't say I have," Gaius lied. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. "Should I have?"
"You had Miss Robeiro visit me?"
"I know Miss Robeiro, but I don't recall you."
"Liar!"
"If you say so. What do you want?"
"I want you, and I'd say I've got you."
"I'd say you have," Gaius agreed. "Why?"
"Fortunately for you, you have a certain value to me alive, otherwise you'd be dead."
"I don't suppose that value's going to diminish when I don't turn up to that ceremony this afternoon?"
"Oh, but you will," Troy said with a boastful smile. "One of the good things about that stupid Ulsian attire we goaded you into wearing is that nobody can see what you look like. I shall go in your place, and one purple blob looks much the same as another."
"Someone will tell the difference," Gaius warned. He had to instil doubt, although, he had to admit, the only one with doubt seemed to be himself.
"Nonsense! None of them have the foggiest idea what it's supposed to look like, so how can they?"
"They'll tell by the way you behave."
"Nonsense! Everyone expects you to take power over this planet, so they'll hardly be surprised."
"What?"
"You heard perfectly well."
"You'll never get away with that!" Gaius shook his head. The curse of it was, this was the scenario the Ulsians had believed would be played out on Natasha. Somehow he had overlooked the fact that the scene could be played out against him. And so soon.
"No, you don't understand! You'll never get away with that. Remember, they'll think it's you that's claiming power."
"Then you'll take what you want, and when you think you can't get away with any more, you'll become the saviour that captures me."
"Neat, don't you think?"
"It won't work," Gaius shrugged.
"And why not. I can't see how it can fail?"
"Oh, I grant you you can pretend to be me in front of some, but Natasha will see through you straight away."
"That's another amusing aspect of this plan. I'm afraid her circumstances aren't much better than yours."
"What've you done with her?" For the first time, genuine alarm sounded in Gaius' voice. As he noticed his captor's look of satisfaction, he bit his lip.
"Oh, she's safe. In fact she's better off than you. She gets a bit of sunlight. You see, we know about your Ulsian code. We know Natasha can't use Ulsian technology now, so she's just like any other human, and that's no match for M'starn technology. Oh, don't worry! No harm will come to her yet. If you cooperate, and you will, she will live."
"Cooperate? What do you want?"
"It's what the M'starn want, actually."
"The Actium?"
"Both ships," Troy confirmed.
"You can't have them," Gaius shrugged. "That's all there is to it."
"Is that so?" Troy sneered. "The M'starn told me to tell you that you have the choice of losing the ships, or betraying Natasha. If you choose the second, they will apply a small burrowing object. A kerem, they said. I'm told you would know what that was."
Gaius leaned back, in shock. "You wouldn't . . ."
"Oh yes, I would," Troy laughed cruelly. "I'm told this thing slowly eats its victim alive, and causes excruciating pain. It should be –"
"You bastard," Gaius yelled. "I'll –"
"No, you won't, because while Natasha is being eaten, she'll be watching you undergo the same. The first one to break stops both being eaten. One of you will break."
"Neither will," Gaius replied coldly, "because that wouldn't stop it. You'd kill us anyway."
"If left to me, you'd probably be right," Troy admitted ruefully. "However, I've been told by the M'starn to tell you that the M'starn give their word that once one of you plays your part, both live with no further damage. They guarantee it."
"They can't be in both places at the same time."
"There's no need," Troy said, a shudder passing down his frame. It was clear that the M'starn had very clearly impressed upon Troy the price of any misbehaviour.
"So why are you telling me?"
"I'm doing you a favour."
"I'm sure," Gaius shook his head.
"You should be able to work it out," Troy scoffed. "When it's all over, you're going to have to live with each other. Do you really want to live with someone who's been half eaten, because it took you that long to overcome your pig-headedness? Of course not. So you'll cooperate. But you'll cooperate faster if you've had the time to think it all out. So I'm doing you a favour. I'm saving bits of you and your loved one!"
"And I'm sure you worked that all out yourself."
"That sort of attitude won't get you anywhere," Troy sneered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ceremony to attend."
Gaius cursed inwardly. What a fool, falling for this special meeting nonsense. But then, why should he have ignored it? Still, there was no point in worrying about what he should have done. The question was, what should he do now?
He still had no means of getting out of this room. There was nothing in this cell that would assist, and even the beacon in his ring was useless, because the cell was clearly underground, and well screened. He lay back on the bunk. The leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach began to grow. Through his own stupidity, he would have to betray either the Ulsian code, or lose Natasha, and his own life. If he betrayed the Ulsian code, he would effectively have to fight with the M'starn against Ulse. Thus the choice was simple. Either he could betray every being who had placed trust in him, or he could condemn the one he loved to the most horrible death possible. And it was because of his stupidity that Natasha had found herself defenceless. There was still time, and that time had to be used. He had to think of something.
His resources were not very promising. He had a blanket, a can, a fixed bunk, and a stone wall. Perhaps a stone could be loosened? Unlikely, but still, it was something to do. Better to do something than nothing, even if it was not going to be very effective. At least try! Gaius slowly moved to the wall furthest from the door and began testing each stone in the wall.
* * *
Harry looked at Marisa and shook his head. "Something's wrong," he whispered.
"I agree. He's been in there far too long."
"Wait a minute," Harry whispered. "Here he comes."
They watched the reddish-purple figure stride from the house and enter the car. The car quickly hummed towards the front gate, then sped off towards the city. Harry and Marisa turned to each other.
"That wasn't Gaius," they whispered in unison.
"The
cloth was wrong," Marisa said emphatically. "The shade and sheen were quite different."
"Gaius was wearing black boots, not fabric shoes," Harry agreed.
"Then Gaius will be still inside."
"And presumably in trouble. You should go for help."
"And what'll you do?"
"I'm going inside," Harry said quietly, as he drew a handgun. "Time to repay Gaius for what he's done for us."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"It'd be better if you got help," Harry urged.
"From whom?" Marisa shrugged. "And why isn't the quickest way to use the telephone inside?"
"It's too dangerous."
"In which case two pairs of eyes are better than one. Anyway, whatever you say, I'm coming in."
"As you wish," Harry replied, after a moment's pause. "I wish you wouldn't, and I don't think it's sensible, but –"
"But I'm known by the guards," Marisa smiled coldly. "They know Troy wants me, so they won't know what to do if they see me."
"I suppose I can't argue with that," Harry shrugged.
"And if this strategy's going to work, I have to go first."
"I don't like that either," Harry grumbled, "but I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am," Marisa said firmly, as she started to get up.
"Hold it!"
"Now what?"
"If you're going to turn up and smile nicely to the guards, you don't stroll up with muddy hands and knees. Get back outside, go and find somewhere to tidy yourself up a bit, then drive the car into the grounds. And make your phone calls from the phone you left in the car. At least that guarantees they'll get made. If you're going to pretend you've come to see Troy, at least look as if you want to see him, and want him to like what he sees."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I'll wait."
"Promise?"
"I promise. I'll even concede that your plan's the best –"
"Well, thanks!"
"…but there's no time to waste. Be quick!"
"I'll be no time," Marisa said firmly, "and no matter what, you mustn't go in by yourself. Please, promise!"
"I've already promised," Harry said with a touch of irritation.
"Then take care, and good luck."
Chapter 11
Haruhiko signalled for the driver to stop. Before him was the one grey spot in the sea of red. The sight took his breath away. He had envisaged many scenes of desolation, of twisted steel, of shattered domes, of burnt out vehicles, and of desiccated bodies. What he saw was essentially the Tarsis colony. Apart from the occasional sweep of a dome by a repair robot, there was no movement, but there was also no particular sign of destruction. At the top of the dome were two small parabolic mirrors that were later found to be transmitting high intensity images of desolation and destruction to the Phobos and Deimos surveillance cameras when they were in range.
To the left of the road, before the dome, was the equipment store. The giant drill trailers, the transporters and the dump vehicles seemed undamaged. To the right, the giant food dome also seemed undamaged, and it was clear they were still operating. Piles of processed food lay outside, neatly stacked by the management robots, while within the dome, two of the robot arms could be seen drooping from the overhead rails as they attended to the hydroponics tanks. Food was being produced in large amounts, even though nobody was eating it. Haruhiko descended from his transporter and walked towards the food-dome control panels. Even though the sun was glinting on his visor, the sight was even more dazzling. Apart from signs of nutrient imbalance in two per cent of the tanks, and excessive growth arising from the failure of a harvest robot in section C 27, the system was producing to within five per cent of specification. Oxygen was being vented into the Martian atmosphere as all emergency vessels were fully pressurized and all domes were at maximum permissible oxygen concentration.
Behind the food domes, the giant ice condensers were only working to twenty per cent capacity, but this was sufficient for the food domes, since the residential and commercial areas were not functioning. But even more surprising was the fact that the condensers were failing not because of weapons destruction, but simply through lack of maintenance. Very high volumes of the thin Martian atmosphere had to be pressurized to maintain suitable levels of carbon dioxide now that nobody was exhaling, and while the dust filters were automatically cleaned, tested and replaced as the dust levels became too high, someone had to keep up the supply of spare clean filters. All the spares had been used, and the filters could only continue through the emergency scraping arms. This was unsatisfactory, and eventually the filters would have collapsed, leading to a surge of dust that would have caused the compressor pump to fail. Haruhiko moved towards the appropriate control panel and turned the systems off. Just in time, he also remembered to turn off the associated carbon dioxide pumps. One such piece of carelessness on his part could have caused more damage than all that caused by the aliens and the neglect. Quickly, he called an engineer. One aspect of being a leader was that a leader did not make mistakes when he could get someone better qualified to make them for him.
Another aspect of being a leader was to leave his experts busy doing the tasks they were sent for. Confident that the services and food systems would be brought to working order quickly, Haruhiko took a party of engineers to the energy centre. The accumulators were two thirds charged and the banks for the fuel cells were full. The electricity generation fusion plant had automatically turned itself off through lack of demand, but a quick check of the deuterium-tritium exciters and the MHD section indicated that the plant was undamaged, and would automatically restart when the cells reached their appropriate level of discharge. The monitor panel showed that the second fusion plant would also run as designed.
Haruhiko then rejoined the main party and they approached the outer airlock of the main dome. A check on the external controls showed that the main dome was fully pressurized and the atmospheric content was normal. However, an amber light was flashing over the stores control. While the dome was fully functional, only four dome sheets remained in reserve, and the repair robots' supply of sealant was ninety-seven per cent exhausted. Accordingly, repair of any leakage could not be guaranteed, and a slow evacuation was possible. Haruhiko ordered the appropriate supplies to be brought from the transporters, but since it could take up to three hours to ensure that all robots were adequately supplied, he ordered that all men were to remain in pressure suits unless they were within sealable buildings. He then ordered his small party to enter and begin their search.
He climbed to the observation point at the top of the energy centre. This was the highest point within the Tarsis complex, and thus provided the best view of the whole settlement. The sight there was eerie. Across the entire settlement, nothing moved amongst the row upon row of buildings apart from the maintenance robots, which were seemingly carrying out their normal tasks. Tidy homes lay in their lines, seemingly undamaged, with the occasional sweeper robot patrolling the streets, ready to sweep up any rubbish that it might encounter, however it was clear that there was not going to be any rubbish. Here was a settlement in full working order, essentially undamaged, except it was totally devoid of settlers. Tarsis was a mistake, and it was almost as if everybody had woken up one morning, realized that it was a mistake, and had simply up and left.
Tarsis, more than any other colony, was intended for exploration rather than for living. Discounting Hellas' nominal longitude, Tarsis was the most western settlement, and the settlers had taken a certain pride in that association. It had been set up as an exploration centre because it had been felt that the giant volcanoes might still have some geothermal activity, or failing that, there might be deposits of metals in areas away from the volcanic ash. It was, after all, one of the few places where extended geological action had taken place. There were some mineral deposits. Quite reasonable amounts of arsenic, antimony, and even some molybdenum and copper sulphides had been found, as well as some unusual salt
s, very pure and fine silica, and some other more exotic deposits. After the initial enthusiasm at these discoveries, reality began to sink in. The minerals were interesting, but not particularly useful. The final tantalizing discovery was of low levels of gold. What had been the most sought after metal on Earth for so many centuries was of little interest to the authorities on Mars, but nevertheless, this discovery had been kept from the general population.
The second fusion plant had been built to provide energy to split minerals into their elements, and to make greenhouse and UV-screening gases. In the event, most of the metals had to be returned to the ground for storage, while various gullies were filled with stacks of novel materials that, one way or another, failed to live up to initial promise. In the grand plan for planetary engineering, thousands of tonnes of freons were being made and vented into the atmosphere. These were powerful greenhouse gases, and were equivalent to millions of tonnes of carbon dioxide. To some extent the plan was working, for air pressure was rising as the extra heat put ever more carbon dioxide into the air. The price, however, was that there would never be an ozone layer. That was the least of the Martian's problems, for first there had to be oxygen.
After the initial surge of enthusiasm, a strange despondency had crept over Tarsis. Tarsis was seen as a settlement with no long-term future, hence it became a settlement for transients. It was a place where new settlers could familiarize themselves with Mars and carry out useful functions in the exploration teams while they learned the essentials of Martian living, while they gained the necessary robotics and survival certificates, and while they shook out their homesickness. As a consequence of the fact that few intended to stay there permanently, this was the one colony where little had been done to beautify the surroundings. Within the dome, the various buildings were simply placed on the red Martian soil, and the only paths were those compacted by continual walking. A few small shrubs had been planted but these were dead, not because of the aliens, but because nobody had watered or fertilized them often enough. Their stark skeletons were left as a memorial to indifference, and perhaps as shock therapy to the new arrivals. Once they could adapt to Tarsis, the other Mars colonies would seem to be so luxurious that they might forget the basic harshness of Mars.
