The Galactic Chronicles: Shadows of the Void Books 8 - 10

by J. J. Green

  “I want to speak to my colleagues,” he told the nurse.

  After weeks of being ignored and sidelined by Graydon, Rincker and Adrieux, he was going to become an object of their rapt attention. His only hope was to milk the situation for all it was worth.

  Chapter Nine

  Jas and the attendant at the VM5 entrance waited for his mother. After hearing Jas’ story, he’d called her, explaining that she would be very interested in meeting Jas and he was sure that Jas would be interested in meeting her.

  The woman couldn’t have lived far away, for no more than fifteen minutes after the attendant had finished his call, a short, round figure came bustling down the tunnel. She was late middle-aged. Her nose and chin approached ahead of the rest of her.

  She was in a hurry, and she arrived puffing and panting. Leaning on her son’s desk, she gripped her side with her other hand as she caught her breath. She repeatedly looked Jas up and down and nodded to herself as she gasped. When she could finally speak, she moved to Jas and shook her hand, clasping it warmly with the other. “Name?” she asked.

  “Harrington. Jas Harrington. But I was given my name by the institute where I grew up. I don’t know my real name.” It felt weird to say it, though it was true. Jas had never really considered that, for a brief time, she’d had a different name. Her real name.

  “Hmm...Backra Smart,” said the woman. “And this is my son, Tony. Did you introduce yourself, Tony?” Before Tony could answer, she went on, “’Course he didn’t. Never does. Got no manners. So is it true, what he said? You were born on VM5? And you’ve come back to see the place after all these years? Well, well, well. Glad you came. So very glad. Please, come inside. Come in. Come in.” She went to the doors, but they remained closed. “Tony, open the place up, son.”

  “But it’s...” Tony half-protested before a look from his mother silenced him. He huffed and went to his desk, opened his interface, and keyed in a code. The tunnel was silent but for Backra’s continued panting. The click as the lock opened and the swoosh as the doors slid apart were loud.

  Backra scurried through in her rolling gait while Jas hung back. Stopping and looking over her shoulder, Backra gestured for Jas to follow. She called to her son, “You wait out there, Tony, in case the inspector comes. The kid would only get in the way,” she said softly to Jas as she stepped inside VM5. In spite of her racing heart, Jas suppressed a smile. The kid was at least as old as her.

  As they went a little farther in, movement-sensitive lighting flickered on. Jas caught her breath. They really had left the place as it had been after the explosion. Jas and Backra stood in a wide lobby, or what remained of a lobby. The walls were entirely black and charred. In places, the heat from the blast had melted the metal, revealing scorched, bare Martian rock.

  Noticing Jas’ expression, Backra nodded. “It’s quite something isn’t it? I used to conduct tours, you know, until Tony took over. Been through the place tens of thousands of times. But you never quite get used to it. What would you like to see?”

  “I don’t know,” Jas replied. “I don’t know what there is to see.”

  “Most visitors are interested in the site of the explosion. What there is left of it, anyway. But I’m guessing you’d like to see the residential areas? They’re more interesting in my opinion. Though very sad, of course. Come this way. And tell me all about your connection to VM5. Tony didn’t explain it clearly. You were really born here?”

  Corridors branched from three sides of the lobby. The remains of signs were just discernable next to the corridor entrance that Backra led Jas to. All she could make out on the carbonized surface were the figures and letters, 6-AE.

  “Yes,” Jas replied as they set off. Above, lights strung on bare wires looped along the ceiling. “That’s what I was told anyway. I’ve never bothered to dig into my past or check anything out, but I remember when I was young, a carer told me that I’d been born here and that I was the only survivor of the disaster.”

  “Hmm...maybe I’m imagining it,” Backra said, “or maybe my mind’s playing tricks now that you’ve said mentioned that, but I think I remember you.”

  “What?” Jas exclaimed.

  “Sorry, dear. I don’t mean I knew you as a baby. No. I think remember hearing that only one person who’d been inside at the time of the explosion survived, and that it was a baby. But I never heard anything official. It wasn’t surprising. So much was kept from us about what had happened.”

  “What do you mean? What was kept from you?”

  “Easier to ask what wasn’t kept from us. I don’t think anyone really believed what they said had caused the explosion, for instance. The official explanation didn’t make any sense. Oxygen levels beyond safety limits? Electrical fire? Equipment was basic at that time, it’s true, but even then we had alarms to tell us if the atmosphere levels went out of balance. We had automatic fire dampeners.” Backra sighed and shook her head. “People asked questions, of course. But the more questions were asked, the tighter the Territory Office closed their lips. Wait for the official investigation, they said. Then we’ll have answers.

  “But the investigation took years, and everyone was busy just struggling to survive. By the time the findings were announced, most people had moved on with their lives. Things were hard enough as it was without embarking on a wild goose chase trying to track down what had really happened. But I could never let it go. Still can’t. So it warms my heart, you see, to meet you. To meet someone who made it out alive.”

  They’d reached a junction, and Backra paused before saying, “This way.”

  “Can I ask why it means so much to you?” Jas asked. They were passing doors that starkly contrasted with the blackened corridor. They were modern, and they had clearly been placed there to seal away what lay beyond them. Jas hoped they would stop in a moment. It was a lot to take in at once.

  “I worked here,” said Backra. “My settlement, VM4, was finished, and the VM5 colonists needed some extra help putting on the finishing touches. I’d come over every day to help fit out living quarters and get them ready for new arrivals. They were flooding in at that point. Mars isn’t exactly anyone’s first choice any more, but at the time it was popular. You could get a ticket to Mars cheaply. Government subsidies. They were glad to see the back of the likes that came here. I liked to meet the new settlers. I liked to hear stories about Earth. I still missed it badly then, even though things weren’t good there. Took me quite a while to get used to being a tunnel rat. Don’t know if I ever quite made it. Ah. Here we are.”

  They stopped outside a room. A plaque had been fitted to the wall, simply stating the room’s number.

  “Only a few rooms are open, but they all look much the same anyway.” She opened the door.

  It was a simple, two-bedroom apartment, utterly burnt out. Charred furniture remained and blackened lumps that might once have been toys strewed the floor. Though decades had passed since the fire, the smell of burnt metal and plastic still hung faintly in the air. It reminded Jas of the odor of burning defense units, except that it wasn’t mixed with the sickening scent of barbecued meat. Thankfully, that smell no longer lingered.

  “Do you want to know exactly what happened during the disaster?” Backra asked. “Or would that be too close to the bone?”

  “I want to know,” Jas replied quickly. Now that she’d taken the first step she wanted to go the whole way and find out all that she could. She needed to know.

  “Right. Well, stop me if it gets too much.” Backra folded her hands together in front of her and began to speak as if reciting from memory. “When the oxygen ignited, fireballs swept down the corridors. They think they were carried on updrafts leading out and into the Loop. Everyone in the open areas was killed instantly. The fireballs ignited everything they touched, and due to the high oxygen levels, a fierce fire quickly started. It consumed the rest of the place within minutes. The high temperatures and volatile gases killed anyone who was still alive after the f
ireballs passed. If it’s any comfort to you, their deaths would have been very quick. I’m sorry.”

  Jas had a vision of the apartment as it had once been. Very ordinary, but fresh and new. Through an open door leading to a bedroom, she saw a figure holding a small baby. From outside came the sound of a massive explosion. The ground juddered. A mug of coffee on the living room table tottered and fell. The explosion was followed by a deep, soft whoosh as a fireball passed outside. The spilt coffee began to steam. Screams and shrieks followed from outside. The figure hesitated before running to a safety capsule and thrusting the baby inside.

  Why didn’t the person get in with their baby? Did they think they had time to find the other parent? Did they want to make sure their partner was safe? In Jas’ mind, the figure closed the capsule lid. The lock clicked shut. As the person turned and took just one step, a wave of heat overwhelmed them and they fell.

  Backra was quietly waiting, giving Jas time for her thoughts.

  “You said you can’t let go of what happened,” Jas said. “Why? Do you think the Territory Office were hiding something? Was there a cover up?”

  Backra’s mouth drooped sadly. “I knew those people who died, though I didn’t work among them long. They were good people. Kind, honest, and brave to come all the way to Mars to make a new life. I couldn't get used to the idea of all those hundreds of lives gone in an instant. Still can’t get used to it, even after all these years.

  “Was there a cover up? Yes, I’d say there was. There was a lot of foot-dragging that went on, and apart from the general findings of the inquest, the files were sealed. They won’t be available to the public for another eighty years. Anyone who was an adult at the time of the disaster will be dead by then. No one will be around to take the blame. And, like I said, that the fire happened at all is very fishy. If I were to be completely honest with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was deliberate.”

  “You think it might have been arson?” Jas asked. “But, why? Why would someone want to kill all those people? That’s the act of a monster.”

  “Because they were underworlders, that’s why. Every single blessed one of them. This was before your time. You won’t remember, but naturals were hated. I mean really hated. A lot of people thought they were holding back the advancement of the human race. Polluting it with random gene selection. Allowing genetic diseases and weak traits to continue after we finally had the chance to stamp them all out. That was why underworlders ended up in places like this, where they could live their lives in peace. But it wouldn’t surprise me if someone had thought they were doing everyone a favor by wiping out a whole load of them at once.”

  Jas’ knees were weak. She wanted to sit down, but there was nowhere for her to sit.

  “I’m sorry,” Backra said, seeing her expression. “I’m upsetting you with my ramblings. Don’t take any notice of me. I’m just an old woman, full of nonsense. Let’s go somewhere else. What else would you like to see?”

  “I don’t think I want to see any more,” Jas said. “I think I’ve seen and heard enough.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jas needed people. She actually needed Carl, but he was hundreds of miles above her somewhere among the unwavering stars in the inky Martian night, and he was probably tired of her and her endless dithering. Strangers would have to do. Voices, color, movement, laughter. She needed all these things.

  She was back at the hotel after thanking Backra for her kindness and the stories she’d told. The evening was getting old. She should have gone to bed, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t be able to erase that charred room or Backra’s theory on what might have killed all those people, her parents among them, from her mind for a while.

  Jas was also getting used to the idea that she was a natural. If everything that she’d been told were true, there didn’t seem much doubt about it anymore. She wasn’t sure how she felt. She hadn’t been disadvantaged. She’d been fairly successful in her life without any modding. Yet she also didn’t think she had much in common with underworlders as she knew them. Backra’s revelations had left her feeling like she didn’t fit in anywhere.

  Jas smirked wryly to herself. Same as usual, then.

  She called reception. The previous receptionist’s shift had finished, and a new face greeted her. “Yes, Ms. Harrington? How can I help you?”

  “Can you tell me the closest bar?”

  “Certainly. I’ll send directions to the closest establishments. Is there anything else I can help you with this evening?”

  “No, that’s it.”

  “Great. I’d like to remind you that the hotel’s main door is locked at midnight. If you arrive after this time, please contact the night staff via the security panel. Guests are not allowed to invite non-paying guests into their rooms after midnight. Have a good evening.”

  The receptionist seemed to have an idea about why Jas was going to a bar, but all she wanted was to not be alone.

  ***

  The Loop conveyed Jas to a bar within fifteen minutes. As she went in, she was relieved when no eyes turned toward her. If she’d done the same thing on Earth, she would have immediately become an object of attention. Here, she was just another lanky, red-haired Martian out for the evening.

  The map the receptionist had sent her included seven or eight bars within the vicinity of the hotel. Drinking was a popular pastime on Mars. Buggy racing was another, Jas recalled. Out on the red, rocky, dusty plains, youths would ride their wide-wheeled buggies as far as battery life allowed, and sometimes farther, knowing they wouldn’t make it back. Like on most colony worlds, suicide rates among Martians were high, especially among adolescents whose parents couldn’t afford to send them to Earth for several years to harden and strengthen their bones. Doomed to life on all-but-lifeless Mars or another low-g planet if they were lucky, many young Martians simply gave up.

  Scanning the bar, Jas noticed that a good number of young Martians also sought oblivion in alcohol. She wasn’t sure if the drinking age was lower here than on Earth, but some of the bar’s patrons were surely below it. The law was a nebulous thing in the colonies.

  A human bartender was serving. She wasn’t sure if he was there for the personal touch or because Mars was really that far behind the times.

  The bar seats were all occupied, but it didn’t matter. Though Jas needed people around her, she didn’t feel like talking. She took her ordered beer and found a dark corner to sit in. Stretching out her long legs under the small table, she rested her head against the wall behind her and watched the crowd.

  The hum of conversation began to take its effect and some of the tension of the last few hours began to ease from her. Jas sipped her beer and tried to mentally tease out the implications of what Backra had told her. Had VM5 been sabotaged to explode? Had all those hundreds of colonists been murdered? Had there been a cover up about it?

  Jas didn’t know what to do if Backra’s suspicions were correct. She didn’t have time to deal with a decades-old mystery. If the Shadows weren’t in the process of taking over Earth, probably as a prelude to taking over the galaxy, she might have dug further, but as it was, she had more urgent problems to fix. Avenging her long-dead parents would have to wait.

  Taking another sip of beer, Jas relaxed a little more. The visit to VM5 had been traumatic, but she was glad she’d gone through with it and seen and heard what she had. For so many years, she’d dreaded the prospect of revisiting her past. It’d seemed to contain too much pain and unhappiness, but, on reflection, seeing VM5 had given her a sense of release. It was as if she’d opened her closet door expecting to see ghosts and monsters but found only dust and cobwebs.

  An argument was breaking out at the bar. The bartender was cutting someone off. It was easy to see why. The man could barely hold himself upright on his bar stool. There was something about him that looked odd. Unlike the plainer clothes of the men and women sitting around him, he was wearing a suit.

  “I shouldn’t have given y
ou your last drink,” said the bartender. “That’s it. Go home.”

  “I haven’t got a home,” slurred the customer.

  Jas’ beer glass was at her mouth, but she stopped mid-sip. She put down the glass and swallowed the half-mouthful of beer. She knew that voice. She was sure of it.

  “No home to go to,” continued the drunk man, “’less you count that horrible lil’ cubicle at the facility. Nowhere to go. If I go back there, they’ll put me in with those things again.” He raised his hands as if confessing something shameful. “Not saying I don’t like it. I do. But...but...” Sobs began to choke him. “I could die. I could die. And they don’t care. Nobody cares.” He slumped onto the bar, his head on his arms. His shoulders began to shake with sobs.

  The customers on either side of the man patted him on the back. “Let him sleep it off a bit,” one of them said to the bartender. “He isn’t doing any harm.”

  The bartender shook his head like he didn’t approve of the idea, but he walked away to serve someone else.

  Since the moment Jas had realized who it was, she hadn’t taken her eyes off Sparks. She didn’t particularly want to reacquaint herself with him, but the odds of seeing him on Mars were so large that she couldn’t help watching him. His temporary friends returned to their conversations and failed to notice him slowly slipping from his barstool.

  When she realized what was about to happen, she wasn’t quick enough to save him. Sparks hit the floor, a misshapen heap of sadness and regret. Jas got to him just after he fell. The disturbance resulted in a brief lull in the buzz. The bartender leaned over the bar to see Jas squatting next to the nearly unconscious man.

  “Do you know him?” the bartender asked.

  Jas wasn’t sure she wanted to take on whatever responsibility an honest response might place on her shoulders, but she nodded, reluctantly.

  “Then take him home for me, will ya? Or I’ll have to call security.”