Secret of The Red Planet

by Chris Hawley

CHAPTER FORTY

  A VODKA TOAST

  The next morning I woke before dawn. Getting out of bed, I peered out from between the curtains at the Russian darkness. A dim light on the wall of the building threw a pale glow on the immediate vicinity but further off nothing was visible. I climbed back into bed, shivering in the chill of the early morning, and sat with my back to the wall. I concentrated my mind on Michu, hoping to make contact with her. I was anxious to know whether she had any idea of my present situation and if she did, what the Similarians thought of my divulging the secrets. I had made a promise to Zeris not to mention my trip to Mars to anyone on Earth and I had not kept my promise. Would they understand?

  I had the vision of Michu in my mind and I started to talk to her. I told her my hopes for some help from Earth to meet the threat for the Zoggs. I said I was sorry for giving them away but that it may turn out to be in the interests of all of us. Then I sat still and tried to empty my mind of thoughts, so that I would be able to hear her response. Suddenly I heard her voice as clear as day. She told me the Almighty was guiding me and she wished me strength, courage and wisdom to make the right choices. And that was all. But that was all I needed to hear.

  I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, turning on the shower. A thin stream of cold water fell on my hands. I stripped off and stood under the meagre shower, gasping as the cold jets struck my back. After drying myself on the small, thin towel that I found on a peg on the back of the door, I dressed and sat back on the bed and waited for the door to be unlocked.

  The time passed and dawn turned into day, but no-one came. I was beginning to feel very hungry. Finally, Alexei unlocked the door and I followed him to the dining room. Sonia was not there. I ate in silence. Alexei sat opposite me and said nothing. I came to the conclusion that he knew no English at all. I finished eating but Sonia had still not appeared and I was getting anxious about her.

  ‘Sonia,’ I said to Alexei, ‘where’s Sonia?’

  He just shrugged his shoulders and said nothing.

  Just as I was beginning to think something had happened to her, she walked in the door of the dining room, accompanied by Svetlana.

  ‘I overslept,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘I am relieved to see you,’ I told her.

  I sat while she ate her breakfast in silence. When she had finished, I asked Svetlana what we would be doing today. She said in her broken English that Ivan had been called away to Moscow and wouldn’t be back before the evening. We would have the day free. I asked her if she could give us something to read. At first she said they only had things to read in Russian but then she said she would see. She was gone for about thirty minutes but when she returned she was carrying a sheaf of papers, which she handed to me. I looked at the page on top. My heart started beating fast as I began to read, wide-eyed. It was the day’s news from the website of one of the English daily newspapers. Sonia could see my expression and wanted to know what I was reading so I read it out to her.

  ‘Police were this afternoon still searching for the two lost teenagers who went missing from their homes on Wednesday. William Steadman, aged 16 and Sonia Smith, 18, were last seen on Wednesday morning. A police spokesman said that the search was being conducted country-wide and that all airports were being watched.

  ‘William Steadman is the boy at the centre of the storm about the visit of extraterrestrials from Mars. His companion, Sonia Smith, is the daughter of the newspaper reporter who first uncovered the earth-shattering story on Sunday last week. There is anxiety that the two may have been kidnapped by Martian invaders. The world’s infrared astronomical satellites are being used to search the sky for fleeing spacecraft.

  ‘So far, according to the police, the main lead is the discovery of two abandoned cars in the Welsh borders. One car, a Toyota Corolla, has been traced and is known to belong to Albert Smith, the father of Sonia Smith, the missing girl. The other car, which was found nearby, was completely gutted by fire. It was thought to be the remains of a BMW saloon. Forensic experts are working at the scene, hoping to unearth more clues.

  ‘At a press conference this afternoon, the Senior Superintendent in charge of the investigation said that detectives had found bullets at the scene and these were being studied. He said that police had also found traces of blood on the back seat of the Toyota and police pathologists were trying to identify them.

  ‘The Senior Superintendent said that the search for Albert Smith had not produced any results so far and that police stations throughout the country had been told to look out for him, as he was wanted for questioning in connection with the case. A photograph had been shown on all television stations in the country.

  ‘He said that as soon as more information became available, the press would be informed. Meanwhile he appealed to the public to remain calm.’

  There were other news items and I read them out to Sonia. One item quoted friends of mine as telling the press, ‘‘Bill had agreed to meet us for lunch in town and when he didn’t show up we became worried. Bill is normally so reliable,’ said Timothy Armstrong. His brother Benjamin said he feared their friend had been abducted by secret service agents.’

  There were a few items of sports news but nothing about the England vs. India Test Match. Of course it had finished four days before and I realised that, with all the excitement, I had missed the last day and didn’t know how it had ended.

  Sonia and I spent the day together, sitting in the shade of trees or sitting in the dining room. Svetlana was never far away but she never imposed herself and we felt free to talk. She supplied us with tea and drinks whenever we asked. Sonia and I discussed the situation we had found ourselves in and argued about how the drama would unfold and where destiny would lead us. I told her the mess was mine and I had to solve it myself but she insisted that the Almighty had thrown us together and she was as much part of the drama as I was. But we both agreed on one thing: whatever we could do for the good of Earth and Mars we would do it.

  Towards evening, while we were sitting on a fallen tree stump, enjoying the sunset, we heard a plane approaching from the direction of the sun. We first saw it as it skimmed over a few trees and lowered itself onto the airstrip, with a roar as the air brakes were applied. It came to a halt in front of the main building and we saw the door opened and Ivan descend the steps. With him were a man and a woman. They walked slowly towards the building, Ivan explaining something to them. They disappeared inside.

  After supper that evening, while we were still sitting in the dining room, Svetlana came to tell us Ivan wanted to talk to us. She led us to the room which we had come to refer to as the ‘interview room.’

  ‘I would like to introduce you to two of Russia’s top scientists, Dr, George Kaznikov and Professor Emilia Resichenko. I have already told them who you are. Please sit down.’

  We all sat round the table, the guests on padded chairs especially brought in for them, with Ivan in his usual place behind. Ivan continued.

  ‘These are some of the fortunate ones who have the power to make Russia strong again,’ he said, stretching out his left hand as if to sweep his guests onto pedestals in the sky and at the same time, bowing his head almost to the table in reverence. ‘Dr. Kaznikov specialises in the development of hydrogen fuel and our lady professor is a nuclear physicist.’

  Dr. Kaznikov bowed his head in acknowledgement. He was a large man, with reddish complexion, thick, black hair and bushy eyebrows. He wore heavy glasses and carried a pipe in his hand. He was dressed in a blue blazer and grey trousers. Professor Resichenko was a heavy woman, with greying hair and large, pale features. She wore round glasses and a tweed suit.

  ‘Mr. Steadman is a young man who has travelled widely,’ said Ivan with a smile. ‘Although he is still not out of school he has knowledge and has contacts with those who can help us in our journey to greatness. That is why he is here.’

  I looked across at Sonia and our eyes met. I wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as I was,
that Ivan had one goal in mind and that was Russia’s greatness. What of his words of the day before about not forgetting the world and Mars?

  Ivan addressed me. ‘This morning I attended a top level meeting chaired by the Russian leader himself. I briefed him on our little meeting and he appointed me the coordinator of what will be called The Mars Programme. He has instructed me to work closely with you and your Martian friends and to use our top scientific brains to evaluate your friend Hermann’s theories. I now have the hope that they will give us the technology to smash the Zogg threat to our planet and at the same time to give us the weapon to destroy Earth-bound comets and asteroids before they destroy us.’

  ‘Long live the Russian people,’ cried Professor Resichenko. ‘One day Russia will be hailed as the saviour of the world.’

  ‘Ivan Ivanovich is right, we are the fortunate ones who will make it happen,’ said Dr. Kaznikov.

  ‘And Mars?’ I said. ‘Let us not forget Mars!’

  ‘Of course,’ said Ivan brusquely. ‘We will soon be in the race again.’

  ‘The race for what?’ I asked.

  ‘The Americans were the first to land on the Moon. We will be first on Mars!’

  ‘Hold on, I was the first on Mars and I am not Russian!’ I said indignantly.

  ‘That does not count,’ said Ivan dismissively, waving my objection away with his hand.

  I got the feeling he was being carried away by his own sense of importance. I also began to fear he would forget about the wellbeing of the Similarians and my involvement in the story, once he had got the information he needed. I looked at Sonia. She seemed to share my concern because her forehead was creased into a deep frown.

  ‘We shall meet tomorrow,’ declared Ivan. ‘We have had a long day. In the morning I should have the first report on Hermann Winke and we shall decide if he is to be brought here. I think if he sees you here he will have more confidence to share his knowledge with us, without the need for other methods.’ He looked pointedly at me. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Do you have Hermann already?’

  Ivan nodded and smiled. ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘It is my guess that Hermann will work with anyone who will listen to him and not send him off to the Lunatic Asylum and who will give him the material support to develop his theory.’ That was my honest opinion.

  ‘I was hoping you would say that. I believe it too,’ said Ivan. ‘Now to rest, but before we do, let us drink a toast to the glory of the new Russia.’

  He went over to a cupboard at the back of the room and came back with a tray of tiny glasses and a decanter of clear liquid. I had read about the huge amounts of vodka drunk in Russia and I was surprised I had not seen the bottle on the table before then.

  Five glasses were filled with the clear spirit and handed to each one. Sonia screwed up her face and was about to refuse the glass offered to her but I shook my head at her. It was better to play the part and drink with them than to appear rude by not supporting the toast. The three Russians held up their glasses, spoke some words in Russian and downed the liquid in one swift gulp.

  I sipped my vodka gingerly at first and then I emptied the rest into my mouth. It trickled slowly down my throat and I could feel it burning all the way to my stomach. I was not used to spirits and I barely managed to avoid coughing and spluttering. Sonia had a harder time with hers. She sipped the fiery liquid slowly, never losing the contorted face, much to the amusement of the others. Halfway through the ordeal she gave up and held the half full glass in her hands until it was taken away from her.

  Three glasses were knocked back by each of the Russians before the meeting was declared closed. After saying goodnight, we were escorted back to our rooms, Sonia by Svetlana and I by Alexei.

  The vodka ensured a swift fall into deep sleep.