by Rohan Healy
Gyaros
Book One – The Mice Eat Iron
By
Rohan Healy & Alex Healy
Copyright 2013 ©, Beardfire Publishing
Licence notes: This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
Other books published by Beardfire Publishing:
Greeks To Geeks: Practical Stoicism in the 21st Century (2010) By Rohan Healy
The 7 Things That Made Me Genuinely & Irreversibly Happy: And How They Can Do The Same For You (2012) By Rohan Healy
Potato Mashi: The Underground Non-Dualist Sensation (2013) By David Virgin
Feeling Happy Punk? Well Are YA?! (2013) By Rohan Healy
Gyaros Book Zero: Cry Wolf (short story 2013) by Rohan & Alex Healy
SEX, Not as a Separate Subject: A Guide to Great Sex with Great People (2013) by Rohan Healy
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Table of Contents:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue I
Epilogue II
Prepare For Book Two: Fortune Favours The Brave
Other Books from The Authors
Bloopers, Outtakes and Mistakes
Gyaros Trivia
Acknowledgments
About The Authors
Get In Touch With The Authors
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Prologue
On Gyaros, The Mice Eat Iron:
An article by Gerrit Webster of The Carthage News & Education Network
For three years running Delta Network's hit series Wasteland Dan has topped the world wide entertainment charts. In case you've been living under a rock recently, Wasteland Dan follows the fictional character Dan Steele, bounty hunter operating on the great red moon, Gyaros. The show (an adaptation of Cliff Nicandro's comic book series STEELE) is packed full of over the top action and violence as the protagonist blasts his way through hordes of murderers, drug lords and other criminal scum, acting as a beacon of hope and justice on the harsh desert moon. But is this an accurate portrayal of life on Gyaros? That's a question I set out to answer. For twenty nine days, my crew and I experienced a taste of Gyaros living as we travelled to the moon accompanied by a team of highly trained Carthage combat operatives to film a ground breaking documentary which is to be released later in the year. The contents of this article may be shocking to some readers.
Let's start with a brief history of Gyaros:
In -114 global population was at an all-time high and natural planetary resources were running low, this prompted several corporate nations to explore methods of population control and alternative energy sources. The unscrupulous Talos Corporation - the greatest corporate power at the time - put into action steps toward terraforming and colonizing our planet’s second largest moon, Gyaros. This was at the expense of those suffering on Medea (as our planet was known back then). Millions perished as resources were shifted from the social schemes to the colonial expansion programs. Through the hard work of The Talos Corp engineers and scientists, and thanks to advanced Chimerium based atmosphere and weather control towers (known as Wilhelm station after Artur Wilhelm, inventor of the technology) 38% of the moon's surface was liveable by -97. Over the next forty two years, Gyaros grew as a successfully maintained off-world colony, funded and operated by Talos Corp However, when the people of Medea had had enough, and The War of Unification broke out in -55, Talos began spending more resources on military campaigns and less on maintaining Gyaros. In year 1 Carthage Corporation successfully defeated Talos Corporation, uniting all nations under one government, abolishing the mining and use of Chimerium and cutting off all funding to Gyaros in order to focus efforts on supporting our ailing home planet. Without the stabilising force of Talos Corp, life on the surface of Gyaros soon descended into a chaotic mess as criminal gangs rose up to fight over the remaining resources.
Today, 61 years on, Gyaros is rightly used as a place of exile for criminals and non-earners. With no law and no official government, Gyaros is said to be as close to hell as one can get in this life, and is often referred to as The Devil's Moon. However, very little is known about real everyday life on the moon as there have been no successful attempts made to document the living standards of Gyaros from the ground. Until now.
Carthage to Gyaros is usually a one way trip for anyone unlucky enough to be shuttled there, but my crew and I were taken to the moon via a modified Carthage Transit Craft (the kind normally used to travel between our planet and various orbital space stations) which would return a month later to take us back home. We were accompanied by a team of highly trained Special Enforcer Combat Operatives (SECOs) to ensure our relative safety throughout the journey. Most of our time on Gyaros was spent in New Fortune, the moon's largest city and capital. This article will focus on some of the experiences I had and people I met during my time there.
One of the first things that most citizens of modern day Carthage would notice about Gyaros is the abundance of personal vehicles and yet the complete lack of any road laws or regulations governing their use, making automobiles a serious danger for any pedestrians, especially in a crowded city such as New Fortune. The death toll and environmental destruction caused by these metal monsters simply galvanizes the Areopagus’ decision to eliminate them completely here on Carthage. But cars are far from the greatest danger on Gyaros. The streets of New Fortune were littered with corpses, most of which seemed to be the victims of gang related violence; a very prominent issue within the city. I was lucky enough to speak with a high ranking “Lieutenant” of New Fortune's most powerful criminal organization, The Force. Lieutenant Ozias explained to me how in the absence of any political structure, all businesses and services in New Fortune, from burger joints and strip clubs to banks and hospitals, are operated or funded by the various criminal gangs, or syndicates as they prefer to be known. The Force represent the unofficial police of Gyaros, protecting and serving those who can afford it, and punishing those who cannot.
With no official universities or medical schools, healthcare is an interesting subject on Gyaros. It isn't difficult to find a doctor in New Fortune, just walk down any street and you'll most likely find someone offering to cut you open for a relatively low fee, however finding someone even remotely qualified to perform any serious operation is an entirely different - and much more expensive - matter. Every now and then, trained surgeons end up on shuttles to Gyaros and are desperately sought after by criminal organizations all over the moon who offer protection and a generous
pay cheque in exchange for their talents. If you arrive on Gyaros with medical experience, you've got it made.
I interviewed a female Elissa University medical student who has been in the employment of another of New Fortune’s criminal syndicates, The Machine, for three years. She was sent to Gyaros in 58 for criminal negligence and manslaughter when a medical mix up caused the deaths of twelve patients. She told me that almost immediately after her arrival on Gyaros, she was approached by a Machine scout who offered her a job in New Fortune. According to her, she performs an average of three to five operations per week, her usual rates ranging from 28,000 to 40,000 Talons (the archaic physical currency of Gyaros) depending on the complexity of the procedure.
However, not everyone is a qualified surgeon and not everyone has what it takes to survive more than a few hours on Gyaros. If you are of no use to an established criminal syndicate then a sentence of exile is as good as a sentence of death. During my time on the unforgiving moon, I met countless individuals struggling to survive day to day in a kill or be killed environment, stealing and murdering for scraps of food. Many of the people I met did not even survive my twenty nine day visit. My team was violently attacked on a daily basis and without the protection of three of Carthage's elite SECOs, there was no way we could have made it past the first day in one piece. To give an example of these terrifying and regular attacks, I'll leave you with the story of one of our many violent and shocking experiences, and one that I am saddened to say, resulted in the death of my good friend and camera man, Jay Morgan.
It was only five days since we had arrived in New Fortune and on the way to an interview my team and I found ourselves in the middle of a raging gang war. As we walked cautiously through the streets I heard a single gunshot (which is by no means an uncommon occurrence on Gyaros). I turned to my right to see a member of The Force collapse onto the ground outside of a fast food restaurant and before I could figure out what had happened, one of our guards grabbed me forcefully and pulled me behind a parked car along with the rest of my three man crew. Then everything exploded in an instant, several more members of The Force came rushing out of the restaurant to face the attackers; five masked men armed with handguns and assault rifles who had pulled up in a van which they were now taking cover behind. I was later informed that they were members of The Wilhelm Militia. The ambushed members of The Force took cover behind whatever they could find and returned fire. The battle raged on with both sides spraying bullets in the general direction of the other, shooting and killing several fleeing civilians in the process. It was absolute pandemonium, unlike anything I’d ever seen. Jay, complaining that he was unable to get a decent shot of the action, asked our guards to escort him closer to the battle. When they refused, Jay rushed out on his own, sprinting across to the other side of the road. Before he could reach cover however, he was shot several times, falling to the ground, alive but gravely wounded. Our escort, previously avoiding the conflict, quickly opened fire at both sides in an attempt to end the fire fight as soon as possible and save Jay if they could. The SECOs efficiently dispatched the shooters with clinical speed and accuracy. Once the shooting had stopped and the last of the gang members were killed, we all rushed out to Jay who had already lost a lot of blood and was unable to speak due to a bullet hole through his neck. By the time our field medic had stopped the bleeding Jay had sadly passed away. He was an incredibly brave man and a credit to the journalism profession.
My time on the savage red moon has given me a new perspective of life on Carthage. Each breath of clean air on our beautiful blue and green planet is a precious gift, each day of productivity is a privilege, each contribution to the betterment of our society an honour, and each moment with our families should be cherished. Do not let it go to waste. Gyaros is not a place you want to find yourself.
A more complete journal of my travels, including extended interviews with many Gyaros inhabitants can be seen in the upcoming full length documentary, The Devil's Moon: A Journey to Gyaros.
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Chapter 1
Ding-dong, “now arriving at Apollo Parade,” spoke a soft female voice over the monorail’s public address system.
Having finished reading the article Miles looked up from the flex screen before folding it twice and placing it into the top left pocket of his suit jacket. He looked around at the other passengers, some reading the news on their flex screen readers, others chatting animatedly to their colleagues about the sporting events of the weekend. Others still sat silently, staring into space, ‘trouble at home probably’, thought Miles to himself, something he had plenty of experience with. The next stop was Miles’ and it was coming up to his favourite part of the daily monorail commute. Between the stops of Apollo Parade and The Hesperides’ Garden was the most magnificent view in all of Elissa, an incredible aerial vista of The Hesperides’ Garden itself. Miles sat in excited anticipation, as he did every day, while patiently enduring the long and featureless tunnel section that precedes the spectacular view.
Suddenly the morning sunlight filled the carriage, Miles stood and steadied himself with one of the many handles that hung from the carriage ceiling, and stared in wonder at the beauty below. Lush greenery and foliage spread across a massive ten square kilometres of the city’s ground level, a monument to Carthage’s commitment to protect its natural environments. Flocks of exotic birds flew majestically over the expansive lakes and parklands. A massive green scar down the middle of the otherwise pale white monoliths that made up the skyline of Elissa. The trees and natural splendour of the gardens reflected and painted themselves onto the surrounding buildings, creating a ring of shimmering emerald towers.
Usually Miles would look down for the full 8 minutes that the gardens are visible, but today, having just read the article on Gyaros, he took a moment to look up. Miles raised his gaze to the large red moon in the sky, Gyaros the land of exile, where the worst criminals, deviants, miscreants, and those deemed unfit to populate the verdant and prosperous home world of Carthage were sent to rot. Those banished to Gyaros had no hope of ever returning to Carthage’s capital, nor any other part of Carthage for that matter as the means to do so simply did not exist. Due to technical limitations and the rationing of unrenewable fuel sources, a trip to Gyaros was a one way ticket. And thanks to no new technology or resources having reached the surface of Gyaros in over sixty years, those on Gyaros lacked the means to build or fuel any kind of craft capable of returning to Carthage. Miles stared at the red moon with a sense of foreboding, there it sat up in the sky menacingly, a constant reminder to the citizens of Elissa what awaits any who should go against the will of the Areopagus, Carthage’s single unifying government and judicial body.
And then Gyaros was gone in an instant as the monorail entered another tunnel. Miles collected himself and prepared to disembark at the next stop. Picking up his brief case, he made his way to the sliding doors, pre-empting the morning rush that ensued every day when the doors opened. Ding-dong, “now arriving at The Hesperides’ Garden,” said the same soft female voice. The automated doors slid open and Miles was hit with the awesome sound of over one thousand busy commuters making their way through Hesperides’ Plaza on their way to their specific departments.
Miles worked in The Energy Department on floor 103, and at the age of twenty nine had so far given five years of loyal service to The Elissa Energy Department since leaving college at twenty four. It was a good job, secure with benefits and a salary that rose with each yearly cycle. Miles’ wife Hellen worked for the research division of The Biochemistry Department, and between them they were able to afford to care for themselves and their 4 year old son Chet. The Stantons, your regular modern Elissan family. Except that not all was well at home. For the past year Miles and Hellen’s relationship had been strained, awkward and moody. Miles could never put his finger on it, but there was something very off. Perhaps it was simply a normal part of marriage and raising a child, perhaps it would pass given time. Until
such time as peace returned to their marriage Miles viewed his job as somewhat of a sanctuary, a place of certainty, regularity and predictability. A place where he could forget about the family for a while and simply enjoy some Miles time.
Miles made his way across Hesperides’ Plaza to the central column, passing by the cafés where those with later shifts enjoyed a morning coffee, the smell of which filled Miles’ nostrils. He took a deep breath of the rich brew and thought ahead to his lunch hour when he would enjoy a coffee himself. At the central column of the bright white super structure stood a row of identical elevators numbered one, through fifteen. Miles crammed himself into one of the lifts with around thirty of his colleagues. A robotic melody played before the doors shut tight and the large glass elevator began its high speed ascent. Miles once again enjoyed a fleeting glimpse of the beautiful Hesperides’ Garden before the elevator reached floor 103 where he and his work mates hurriedly disembarked.
Stepping across the threshold into The Department of Energy, Miles turned right and began the familiar walk to his cubicle as he did every day of the week, excluding weekends of course, which he spent at home with Hellen and Chet. A genuine and soft smile drew across Miles’ face as he made his way to his desk, his dark eyes shone and the entirety of his thin, and usually serious face, glowed with relief as he looked forward to another simple day doing what he knew best, away from the turmoil of home life. It’s a sad state of affairs when a man must find happiness in the avoidance of pain, rather than the enjoyment of pleasure, but this would not dissuade Miles from eagerly lapping up every peaceful second of his working day. When one becomes accustomed to pain, the absence of it feels as much like pleasure as any sensory delight one could imagine.
