Mission: Harbeasts of Mars

by V. A. Jeffrey

  “I. . . need. . .marrow!” He almost pleaded with me. His eyes were large now, as if imploring. And then realizing that he'd forgot himself, a weird, sinister light appeared in them again, a look so ugly and black that it made me shudder to the depths of my soul. His antecedents ruled him mercilessly. This monster, I had no doubts, was dragging me to some hidden place full of other associates where I was sure a horrible fate awaited me. Perhaps he was crossing whoever he worked with at the station. Regardless of whether these things were so or not, at the soonest opportunity, I decided to once again take my chances with the harbeasts who I suspected were not far behind.

  I searched for a way out. It didn’t look like that would happen without a nasty fight. Furat suddenly struggled up mightily to his feet. I was on full alarm now. Something had changed in him, some thought or plan and I wondered how long my window of opportunity would remain open. He went to the speeder and dumped out my bag and rifle. My own dragon he’d taken for himself as I noticed it strapped to his suit. I surreptitiously grasped my rock- blade, hoping it wouldn’t crumble. It felt hard enough, and it was sharp. I could feel the blood from my hand streaming down through my fingers. It mattered not. I didn’t even feel the pain.

  As he was digging around for something I slowly used my rock blade to cut through my leg bonds. Thankfully, they weren’t energy bonds, just good, old-fashioned rope. I could hear the distant wails of the harbeasts again, as they must have sniffed us out again, but my mind was no longer on them. I’d cut through the first layer quite easily, and set to work cutting through the rest of the rope. Once I'd finished I quietly got up. The ground was soft with sand but packed firm enough for good footing and he had set up camp in a spot slightly less littered with pebbles and rocks to stumble on. Furat was still muttering to himself. I slowly crept up behind him. Though my footsteps were nearly silent he must have heard or sensed my presence behind him because he whirled around, his eyes wide with shock. I didn’t give him time to think about how I’d escaped my bonds and lunged into him. He whipped out my own dragon to fire, but the thing wouldn’t fire at all. Thank God for Genevieve! (When I had cursed her just days before!)

  A harbeast roared.

  I could see now that whatever genetics and environment had played a part in his development, Furat was mad. Something in his mind was broken. Here was a person who both admired and loathed the great power of the domineering Fist of the Realm, who admired the great power and darkness of Ancus, the major god who demanded absolute obedience to his authority in all things, yet his mind was made of iron, a will that allowed him to follow none but his own. An outcast of the most tragic kind, rejected by society because he was different. And the genetic bloodline that was so revered in these people by their cultures and societies and thought to be a blessing was really a cruel genetic curse. It may have endowed many with very long life and other abilities, but it also made them mad. The cure, which was no cure, was bone marrow and this only caused an insatiable hunger or addiction like that of hard drugs, not to mention being a lethal danger to the human race. But I think that his ideas were the purest expression that I'd seen so far of Ancus's path.

  And I hoped to one day see that path and the wicked ideals that sprang from it forever sunken into the Stygian deep where they belonged.

  More bone spurs shot out painfully from his body like growing horns.

  I was upon him, knocking the gun from his hand. I twisted my right leg away to avoid the sharp bone that would have ripped my suit. He gave a great bellow, nearly beast-like in its ferocity and the strength from his thin build amazed me as we fell down and grappled in the dust in a death struggle. A great storm of dust and dirt flew up and swirled around us as we fought. He got hold of my neck, attempting to throttle the life out of me and I took my sharp stone and jabbed it up, into his chin. I cut a deep wound there and it opened wide, blood streaming down his neck and suit. He smiled and laughed maniacally, only squeezing tighter even though the stone was now lodged right under his chin. In desperation I focused my waning strength on trying to loosen the grip of his long fingers but it was as if a vise was around my neck, his thin hard fingers pressing into my flesh and the nails tearing wounds into it. Another bone spur sprouted, this time from his hip, protruding out and glistening with blood. His eyes were rolling now as he was in great agony and I saw my escape out of certain death. Once I felt his grip loosen I rolled myself up and I was on top of him, driving my fingers from my right hand into one of his eyes, putting it out. He howled but this only served to enrage him and he threw me off. I went crashing headlong into the ground over him. With dust in my eyes and it being nightfall, I couldn't see anything.

  Suddenly, bright lights flooded down on both of us as we were ready to struggle to the death once again. Shots were fired.

  “Halt!” Called a loud voice through a bull horn. I sat in the dirt, dazed and confused as my attacker rose, covering his empty eye socket. Blood streamed from his face. He began screaming and raving like a lunatic and suddenly I heard the sharp crack of a bullet from an old-fashioned gun and he dropped like a stone.

  “But I thought he-” I heard a second voice from the source of the flood lights.

  “He's come to the end of his usefulness. Tried to cross me. Besides, I'd rather not have any more dealings with him. He's an alien. You know how their kind are. Can't trust him,” said the first voice from the towering vehicle in front of me. They fell silent. I looked over in fear at Furat. There was a hole blasted into his shoulder. His body convulsed for a few seconds and in horror I watched as myriads of spurs and horns of bone sprouted out all over the body. It was a disgusting sight and I quickly looked away. I glanced fearfully into the bright lights again, shielding my eyes, feeling the deep hum of the vehicle rumbling through the ground, reverberating through my bones. I had once again fallen into another's hands and wondered what misadventures awaited me this time.

  6

  The next morning I was riding in a relatively comfortable trailer attached behind a large rover. Through a small window in the distant north, I could detect more traffic activity. There were rovers, speeders and other vehicles speeding or trundling along with supplies to way stations and other places far out in the Martian desert. Some of them were as big as villages, equipped with everything necessary to live independently for a few months. I marveled at the more advanced transformation of the landscape here, wherever we were. I couldn't be sure what my location was as I no longer had my helmet. The land seemed, in parts, covered in short, moss-like vegetation, large islands of soft green in between vast lakes of red sand and rock. It was something I hadn't noticed near the cities. Gazing out of the window I'd noticed a pattern; before we entered another area of moss I would see scrub brush and stubs of hardy plant life dotting the area. Still, though ugly in comparison to Earth, it was a miracle of science and technology that put them here under the bio-dome. It wasn't lush or verdant by any means, only a few varieties of earthly plant life and some alien, to my eyes, but it was amazing, nonetheless.

  My bag lay beside me in the seat and I had on a fresh, clean environ-suit, to my surprise. My old one had been covered in dirt and blood - Furat's blood, harbeast blood, mutant spider fluids and probably my own blood. I could feel myself relaxing and as that happened my body now felt free to complain of its new injuries together with the chorus of old aches and pains. I thought I'd detected a brand new injury, a sharp pain in my chest. I reached my hand up gingerly to touch the area. My neck and back was throbbing with dull pain but it had been softened by some kind of drug, I could tell. I'd gotten into a knock-down, drag-out fight with Furat and was on my way to losing said fight when someone came in the nick of time and broke us up. Was Furat dead? I couldn't quite remember. I do remember bone spurs shooting out of his thin, muscled body as if his own body were attacking him from within.

  We bumped along rather uncomfortably at times. My eyes followed the line of morning light which looked like a knife edge of orange and red, a thin woun
d on the horizon. I sat back in the bed and let my head loll wherever the friction from the vehicle's rough riding directed it. It felt good to lie down and forget the nightmare I'd descended into just days before. I'd be on my way home soon.

  “Are you thirsty?” My eyes suddenly flew open and I rose and turned my head to see a man standing in front of me at the doorway. He was wearing a standard issue environmental suit and carrying what looked like a large pair of binoculars.

  “Hello! How. . .” I swallowed hard and spoke again, groggily, “how did I get here?”

  “You were rather dazed and mightily abused back there after the Suwudi attacked you. I don't think you were registering everything that happened out there. We took you in after shooting the one who was trying to kill you. That alien bastard was choking the life out of you.”

  “Right. I remember,” I rasped, absently touching my neck. It brought back the memory of his eyes, blazing with hatred.

  “By the way, my name's Dr. Donatien Lafayette. Or Don, for short. Most simply call me by my surname.”

  “Well it's very good to meet you, Dr. Lafayette,” I said weakly.

  “Are the pain relievers working for you?” He asked solicitously.

  “Uh, pain relievers?” I asked, surprised. I hadn't remembered taking any, voluntarily. “Well, I would say so.”

  “When we first found you, you were badly injured. Perhaps you don't remember yesterday,” he said. I shifted in the twin bed and lay back down again.

  “I see. Actually, I am parched. And you know, I would appreciate a good, non-powdered, non-dehydrated meal.” I said. He smiled widely.

  “Patience, my friend. Patience. You will eat, in good time. I'll have something to drink brought to you.”

  “So, where are we going?” I asked.

  “To the Seventh Circle of Hell,” he said, chuckling.

  “Huh?” I asked. Having just come from hell, I wasn't seeing the joke here. He smiled again.

  “Actually, we're headed to Triskelion Research Center. Most know it as the North Science Lab. Where all of the vegetation and much of the water, food and creatures you see or find on Mars is grown or engineered.”

  “Ah! The agricultural laboratory?” I'd heard about this lab from the team back in Syzygy. It was once Syzygy's only option for new food production after the aliens had fled the Mothership. Now was my chance to see and perhaps even tour it, if I were allowed.

  “That and more. Much more. We provide much of what you see in biological plant and animal life, and even continue to provide the crops and the meat that nourish us here on Mars. Though, mostly that part of our work has greatly decreased and other companies have now taken over most of that production. A rather. . . wide and interesting marketplace intersection of scientific research and consumer production. But our main work is in genetics manipulation engineering.”

  “So, you're in business for consumer products and scientific research?” I asked. He nodded. I wondered what sort of alliances such a place could form with a company like Vartan Inc. The possibilities could be astounding. I would have to find a way to get The Boss in contact with this Triskelion facility.

  It was all very fascinating and I would have questioned him more but I was growing drowsy. The man seemed to notice this and told me to rest.

  “I'll come back and see about you later. We've been traveling awhile and you were in and out of sleep. We don't have much time now before we reach our destination.” He smiled again, putting his hands at his hips.

  “How many days?” I asked.

  “Almost two.” A small, black courtesy mech, very sleek, a new model I wasn't familiar with, entered the room and drifted past him with a small tray. On it sat a tall carafe of ice water with cucumber slices and a narrow glass. It set this tray beside my bed and promptly left. I poured a glass and drank the water down quickly. Any chance for life-giving water was a precious gift out here. All of a sudden I felt within me a renewal as the cold water refreshed me. It was almost as if the very cells of my body were once again blossoming and becoming moist again. I hadn't realized how dry and shriveled I'd felt on the inside. I wondered with trepidation how my face might have looked now, how much I may have aged out here. It wasn't long before the entire carafe was empty.

  I'd noticed a belt-like thing wrapped around the man's hips and several leathery looking straps or thin prongs of leather strips hung from the right side of his hip. Buried within the straps near the tips were shiny pieces of metal.

  “You've been through quite a trial but you seem strong to me,” he said pleasantly. “Get as much rest as you can. We'll have a good meal ready for you when you wake up,” he said and turned to leave. His was a smooth and melodious-sounding voice. It was nice to hear a human voice for a change.

  Before leaving my cubicle-sized room, he snapped on a switch at the wall, glancing back at me before leaving the room, and closed the door behind him. I felt cool air descend on me from a vent above. Tired, in dulled pain and feeling fog-brained because of the pain relievers he'd given me, I drifted off to sleep again.

  When I'd come to again, we were still traveling from what I could see out the small window of the rover but I found myself bound with a metal collar around my neck. I tugged at it, trying to pull it off.

  “Well rested, my friend?” Said a melodious voice behind me. It was the man I'd seen yesterday. Dr. Donatien Lafayette. He had that same, wide smile on his face again as if he were laughing out loud.

  “What the hell is this?” I demanded. “Why is this thing around my neck?”

  “Oh, that? I tag all creatures I find that I intend to use in my work.”

  “What? Creatures? I'm a man!” I said, furiously rustling through my bag.

  “All living things are creatures, and all have some use to the work, in the name of science. Oh, were you looking for your weapons? Don't worry. Those are safely put away. You won't need them where you're going.”

  “And where exactly am I going?”

  “You're going to the labs of Triskelion.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” I demanded. He only smiled and now that smile enraged me. I lept from the bed, ready to grab him by the neck but I was jolted violently back from a shock of energy from the collar. It made my body shake uncontrollably and I sank to the floor like a wet rag, urine flowing down my legs. I looked up, gasping in rage and fear. His face was now twisted into a haughty gaze of amused contempt at my humiliation. Then a wicked gleam shined in his eyes and he tugged at something around his waist, the leather belt contraption, slipping it off. In his hand, as the leather straps from his waist unwound, I recognized that it was some primitive ancient weapon used in the dark recesses of time – a scourge with metal balls and bits of sharp metal and bone shards tied within it's many strips. He whipped it back and snapped it forward with great precision. I felt a grand sensation of pain I'd never felt before. It turned the wounds it made in my skin into a forest of fiery burnings as he swung the scourge and hit me on the back, twice. I screamed in shock as much as in pain. His laugh was ruthless.

  What had happened? I thought I'd escaped hell. I suppose when he said I'd just entered the Seventh Circle of Hell, he wasn't joking. I could only envision the awful horrors that awaited me at the North Lab.

  . . .

  I watched, chained to my bed, through the window as we reached the laboratory. We'd been traveling in a long train of rovers and carriers. In my drowsiness my reason and senses had failed me. I put it up to having been drugged by Furat first and then by this new fiend. My senses were still somewhat unclear as the drug combinations were finally wearing off. After some time, I have no idea how much, we ground to a halt and the rover lurched before stopping, nearly overturning my bed on top of me.

  Triskelion, or the North Lab as it was called by most people, was a large complex of buildings connected by tubed plexi-glass walkways. Rising atop and behind this connected complex of one and two story buildings rose what looked like a mansion of bright, white
stone. Streaming from this magnificent edifice in the middle of the red desert were two elegant skywalks. There was one main building about two stories high that sat in the middle of the property. All around the property was an energy fence. Suddenly, my cubicle roof opened and I felt it being lifted up and set on the ground beside the massive rover trailer bed. I could hear the distressed and angry roars and wails of several harbeasts, among other animals I could not name or recognize. They squealed and screeched in a great cacophony of anguish, rage or agitation. I saw dozens of cube boxed cages that I now ascertained we were all locked in, being lifted from the rovers and assembled and attached together by powerful crane arms from huge labor mechs just outside. I later learned that this was the back entrance of the research center.

  Sitting just up ahead nestled on a small rocky hill just above the science complex and estate was the palatial looking house and surrounding it, a sprawling garden. I could only stare in awe. Where did they find such bright, white stone? It had to be imported. I wondered at the amount of money it took build it let alone import expensive marble here. Where did the beautiful vegetation for that garden come from? And what was a mansion doing at a research facility?

  I'd lost all sense of time. I glanced at the sun and guessed by the near invisible short shadows that it was high noon. I felt my cubicle, which I presumed to be my new home, being rolled along on a huge conveyor belt system through a loading dock into the main complex. I felt like a bull going to a slaughter warehouse.

  Then we stopped. The noises of rover cars, trailers and carriers being moved about and taken down and opened and the work of huge, mindless labor mechs, their work made easier and swifter by cargo carriers and old speeder tug ships, were all around me. I heard a tiny jingle and instinctively pulled at my chains around the bed. They had fallen loose. I wound them around my arms, hoping to use them as a weapon. Finally, the door of my cubicle opened. I crept back further into a corner near my bed. The collar around my neck began to buzz and it grew hotter as I stubbornly refused to move until it flared with light and began to hurt. The pain became unbearable and I cried out, bolting out of the cage and into several security guards who threw me to the ground and held me down as if I were a wild animal to be tamed. One of them sat on me while the other two held my legs and arms. A person in a white coat bent down with an auto-syringe and took a sizable blood sample from me.