Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure)

by Rohan Healy

  Night time came once again and Miles climbed back into his sleeping bag on the floor of the damp kitchen. The work was easy enough, his employers did indeed keep him well fed and he was relatively safe working out back in the scullery. For now things were going well, all things considered. ‘I’ve just got to keep it together, keep my eyes and ears open, work and learn. Then I can think of a way to resume my journey to New Fortune. Right now I just need to keep my head down and play it safe.’

  As he awoke the following morning, Miles could hear Gideon and Jasper talking from the next room. He listened carefully and managed to overhear the words ‘meat’, ‘hunt’ and ‘careful’. From what he could gather, it sounded like Jasper and Emmet were going out to collect supplies for the diner later that day. ‘Better them than me,’ Miles thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes and stood up off the kitchen floor with a yawn. While he was rolling up his sleeping bag to put it under the sink for the day, the door to Gideon’s quarters swung open and Gideon entered the scullery.

  “Ah good, yer up!” said Gideon upon seeing Miles awake and ready for work, his big goofy face grinning broadly, “now, Jasper 'n' Emmet are gonna be out pickin' up some more meat today, so I'll need ya to man the counter for a little while.” Miles, still half asleep, simply nodded in response. He didn't have much of a choice as right now Gideon was supplying Miles with shelter and hot meals in an extremely hostile environment, and although Miles was considerably afraid of interaction with Gyaros locals, he wasn't about to argue. After all this was his new home, he had to talk to the neighbours eventually.

  “It ain't too hard, all ya gotta do is write down the customers' orders and bring 'em in to me,” Gideon explained, pointing at the door which separated the scullery from the kitchen, “just don't forget to knock first,” he added with a wink.

  “What about the dishes?” Miles inquired, still rubbing his sleep filled eyes.

  “The boys'll only be gone for an hour or two, so you'll have plenty of time for that,” replied Gideon before returning to his room.

  As opening time came, Miles began the day with his usual duties until about two o'clock when Jasper and his brother left the diner to collect the supplies. Miles looked out the front window to see both of them climb into an old rusted blue pickup truck, the kind he’d only ever seen in a museum or on visor vision, and speed away down the rough dirt road and out of The Dustbowl’s gates.

  “Alright Miles, time for you to take over,” Gideon said, poking his head out from his door.

  Miles took his place behind the counter, he was quite nervous about dealing with customers, having seen the kind of deranged and violent individuals that make up a large percentage of The Dustbowl's population. He reassured himself however that, 'Jasper's still alive and he's probably worked this counter for years. You can do it Miles!' He then thought as he looked around at the unsavoury individuals occupying the tables, 'maybe there's some amount of respect for venders among these people. After all they’ve got to eat, right?'

  Although some of them were fairly regular folk, most of the customers Miles dealt with throughout the day were dangerous looking men and women, all with at least a few battle scars and some of them dressed in heavily blood stained clothes. But none of them seemed to cause much trouble, at least not with him. Still, Miles remained on edge, Gyaros was a terrifying and unpredictable place at the best of times. Every little noise made him almost jump out of his skin.

  Miles knocked on the kitchen door which opened slightly, Gideon sticking his head out.

  “One Ransom double with extra cheese and no onions,” said Miles handing him the order.

  “Thanks buddy,” replied Gideon and he disappeared back into the kitchen, closing the door behind him.

  Miles had just returned to his place behind the counter when everything turned upside down.

  “Pa! They shot Emmet!” the front door of the diner burst open as Jasper rushed inside, his eyes wide with panic, tears streaming down his cheeks as he carried his unmoving brother in his arms. They were both covered in blood which was flowing from a large wound in Emmet's chest. The entire diner stopped and fell silent as the patrons looked on. Gideon quickly ran out of the kitchen, still wearing a bloodied butcher's apron.

  “Get him in here, hurry!” shouted Gideon. Jasper dashed into the scullery and laid Emmet gently down on the floor as Miles looked on through the small window. ‘Holy crap, what the hell happened to him?!’

  “Is he gonna make it, Pa?” Jasper asked with a warble in his voice as he looked down at Emmet.

  “He's dead, Jasper,” Gideon answered quietly.

  “I didn't know they were gonna have guns Pa, I didn't know!” Jasper sobbed loudly.

  “It's gonna be alright son, just tell me what happened, are they after you?” asked Gideon, putting his arm around Jasper.

  “N-no, I killed 'em all,” Jasper sniffed.

  “That's good son, that's good.” Miles' body was frozen as he watched the scene unfold. Just when things were beginning to settle down, just when Miles felt like he had his life somewhat under control, something like this had to go and happen. He watched the miserable father and son sob together at the loss of their family member and Miles felt their pain. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if something like that happened to Chet.’

  The Ransoms closed the diner early to bury Emmet in the red soil behind the building. Gideon and Jasper both said a few words at sunset as they laid their son and brother to rest. Miles stayed out of the affair as much as he could and remained inside the diner alone, watching the scene from the window in the scullery that faced toward the large dirt field out the back of the diner.

  Later that night, after the sun had set and as Miles sat at one of the tables in the front area of the building, Gideon sat down across from him and began to speak.

  “I lost one of my boys today, this is the first time we’ve lost someone since Mary died in the fever of 53,” Gideon cracked the tops off two bottles of beer handing one to Miles and taking a swig of the other, “it’s a sad day Miles, just me and little Jasper left. But we’ll survive, we always do because we’re strong. Unlike you we were born on this moon, it’s our home, we live and die by the way things work up here. You Carthaginians don’t wanna be here but we ain’t like that. We’re proud to be Gyaran!” he said with vitriol, raising his bottle in the air. It seemed like he was using Miles as a welcome distraction from the sudden loss of his son.

  “Poor Emmet, he never was quite right. Still we took care of him, treated him good. But deep down I always knew he was too soft for this place, he wasn’t made for it,” a look of deep sorrow filled Gideon’s small blue eyes. Miles was silent, he had no idea what to say at a time like this. He took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his cheek before composing himself and beginning to speak again.

  “Alright Miles,” began Gideon seriously, “maybe it's time I let you know how we really do things 'round here.” Miles’ heart rate rose slightly as he listened carefully, confused and slightly afraid of what Gideon was about to tell him. ‘How we really do things? What the hell does that mean?! Do I even want to know?’

  “C'mere,” said Gideon, standing up and gesturing for Miles to follow him into the kitchen. “Now, ya see, good meat's pretty hard to get off the animals 'round these parts,” he explained as they made their way to the kitchen, “there's hardly any farms left on Gyaros so most of the livin' creatures here are those wild fuckers ya see out in the desert,” Miles and Gideon walked through the kitchen and arrived at the door to the freezer.

  “And then o' course,” Gideon said as he pushed open the metal door, “there's people.” Miles’ jaw dropped and his eyes widened in horror at the sight now revealed to him, he wanted to run but his legs wouldn't let him. Inside the small room behind the door, three armless human bodies hung upside down with large meat hooks through their ankles, most of the flesh had already been carved off their backs and thighs, a large pile of bones and unused body parts sat in the fa
r corner of the room and on a sturdy wooden table were several cuts of meat accompanied by a selection of sharp knives. Miles quickly ran to the nearby sink and vomited before looking up at Gideon in disgust and terror, his heart beating harder than ever and his entire body trembling with shock and fear. Gideon looked back at him and spoke again, “I’m not gonna mince words here, with Emmet gone, we need someone else to go with Jasper on the raids,” he paused briefly before continuing, “now, I know this is a lot to ask of someone like yerself, so I'll pay ya well, a thousand talons per job.” Miles continued to stare at Gideon before regaining his ability to speak.

  “You-you want me to kill people?” he asked, shaking uncontrollably.

  “Not if you ain't up for it, just go along with Jasper and help out, keep watch, do a little heavy lifting.” Miles could hardly think properly but he knew that Gideon would most likely kill him without hesitation if he refused the job. ‘That’s what the hand was! And that’s what I’ve been eating!’ At this realisation he once again threw up into the sink. Gideon waited patiently for Miles to regain his composure.

  “I-I'll do it,” he agreed reluctantly, wiping his mouth. Unable to think of any possible alternative that involved staying alive, he agreed.

  “That's what I wanted to hear Miles!” said Gideon with a big greasy grin, bringing his hand down hard on Miles’ shoulder, “you'll be going out on a raid with Jasper tomorrow. He wasn't able to bring back the bodies today for obvious reasons and we’ve got nothing to serve unless you boys go out and catch us some meat.”

  There was nothing Miles could do now but accept the reality of his situation, if he had any desire to remain alive for the foreseeable future, and do exactly what Gideon said. He really thought he had a nice little thing going here with the Ransoms but just as Miles was settling in, the rug was once again pulled from under him. ‘Oh God Maxen, why’d you have to go and die on me?’

  Miles didn't sleep at all that night, instead he laid awake in his sleeping bag on the hard scullery floor, next to the now dried puddle of Emmet's blood, terrified of what was going to happen the next day. He considered making a run for it, the Ransoms were most likely asleep and Miles could quite easily slip outside unnoticed, but then what? Without money, without food, without a vehicle, well he was as good as dead. In the end, working with Gideon and Jasper was still his best chance at survival for now. Besides, Gideon promised Miles good pay for his assistance and Miles would definitely need money if he were to have any chance of getting to New Fortune. As well as that, Gideon promised that he did not even need to kill anyone. ‘Maybe this’ll be ok, I’ve seen plenty of people killed over the past few days, maybe it won’t be too bad,’ Miles tried to reassure himself.

  As the sky began to brighten and the alien birdsong filtered through the open window, Miles could hear what sounded like Gideon getting dressed in his quarters. Before long, the door to the scullery opened with a loud creak and Gideon entered the room.

  “Rise and shine, boy. It's time to head out! If my customers don’t eat, well neither do we,” he said, squatting down next to Miles who was wide awake with dark heavy bags under his eyes from his sleepless night. Miles sat up to look at the clock above the sink. It was only 5:03.

  “Ya best leave nice 'n' early so ya can get back before opening time.” Miles began to climb out of the dirty old sleeping bag as Gideon left, presumably to wake Jasper.

  This was it, Miles wasn't sure exactly what the raid was going to involve but there was no turning back now, he simply tried his best to remain calm while his stomach churned and span as the fear yet again set in. ‘This is it. I’m going out to help hunt humans for meat. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn’t I just play it safe in the Yellow Districts?!’ After a few minutes Miles heard the loud rattle of a poorly maintained engine starting up. He made his way outside like a condemned prisoner walking to his death, to the death of his life as a basically ethical person. He saw Jasper in the driver's seat of the pickup truck. “C'mon Miles!” he shouted, leaning over to open the passenger side door. Miles nervously walked to the truck and climbed inside. Wasting no time, Jasper put his foot on the gas pedal and the wheels began to turn, kicking up a large cloud of dust and taking the vehicle on its way.

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  Chapter 14

  As the rusty old pickup truck sped down the far stretching dirt road, the last buildings of The Dustbowl had all but disappeared over the horizon from the rear view mirror.

  Thoughts raced through Miles' head as he sat terrified in the passenger seat. 'There's no way this is real. This can't be fucking real! I’ve never hunted people before. I’ve never hunted anything before!'

  Jasper had a calm and sorrowful look on his face as the two drove through the desert.

  “So,” said Jasper, “you never killed someone before?” Miles tried to shake his head but his whole body was frozen with fear. “Thought not, ya didn't strike me as the type,” Jasper chuckled and continued, “don't worry though, Pa said ya don't have to kill no one if you don't want to. You just keep a lookout and yell if ya see trouble.” Miles took a deep breath and tried to collect himself.

  This was real, and if he wanted to survive one more day on Gyaros, he needed to stay focused.

  “How much further?” asked Miles nervously.

  “Not too far now,” replied Jasper, “there's a small shack on the side of the road with a couple livin' there, far as I know they ain't got no weapons so this should be an easy one. The bastards yesterday were packin’ shotguns and I fucked up Miles, I let my guard down and they got my brother, God damn it,” Jasper said, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel and grinding his teeth angrily. He put on a brave face but it was clear that Jasper was hurting deep inside from the loss of his brother.

  Neither of them spoke another word as Miles stared out into the barren wasteland littered with the bones of mutated animals and the occasional husk of a destroyed vehicle. Amidst the murder, rape, destruction and general insanity, Gyaros could be a peaceful place at times. Ironically Miles couldn't remember ever having had so much time to think in Elissa without being pushed into an overcrowded monorail carriage or rushed to a meeting. And though he was slightly embarrassed to admit it, Miles often fantasized about living the life of Dan Steele, cruising through the deserts of Gyaros on a roaring motorcycle with the wind in his hair, blasting bad guys away with his double barrel shotgun and rescuing beautiful maidens; all part of a day's work. But as the figure of a small broken down shack appeared through the thick dust in the distance, Miles' heart sank and he was quickly snapped back to reality. This is the real Gyaros, not the comic book fairy-tale that's been topping the Visor Vision charts for the past 3 years, and Miles was no Dan Steele, he was just plain old Miles Stanton, a hard working model citizen of Carthage who just two weeks ago had a secure job and a picture perfect family to set him apart from the criminals and scum of the great red moon. But after today would he still be able to distinguish himself from the psychopathic killers of Gyaros? This was what terrified him the most. ‘I’m not like these people, I can’t be!’

  “Here we are brother!” Jasper's voice pierced through the steady sound of the running motor as they approached their destination. “Now like I told ya, just leave the killin' to me,” he continued as he brought the truck to a stop about forty feet from the shack and began to exit the vehicle.

  “Just wait right here and be ready to help load these bastards up,” Miles nodded sheepishly as Jasper quietly approached the makeshift home built out of the remains of an old Talos shuttle. As Jasper reached the door, he slowly drew his revolver from the holster on his right hip. He glanced back at Miles as if checking to make sure he was still in the truck, and then let out a loud grunt as he forcefully kicked in the flimsy steel door. Miles' heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he watched Jasper run into the shack. Screams of horror echoed through the still and silent desert followed by a loud BANG! Seconds later, the front door burst ope
n again as a young woman came running out screaming, her torn white dress covered in blood, presumably not her own as she seemed more than capable of sprinting across the sandy wasteland.

  “Get back here you fuckin' bitch!” Miles heard Jasper yell as he came running out behind her also drenched in blood and painfully holding his crotch. The woman ran towards the truck where Miles sat.

  “Please you’ve got to save me, PLEASE!” she screamed as she approached the truck, “please, please don’t kill me mister,” the blood soaked young woman sobbed, her dark brown eyes filled with fear. Miles looked on in horror, his face twisted in disgust at what was occurring right in front of him. Then Jasper raised his gun, there was another BANG and the passenger window turned a sickly shade of dark red. The screaming came to a sudden stop, and there was total silence. Blood and small fragments of bone trickled down the glass in front of Miles as he sat there trembling in his seat. After a few seconds, Jasper appeared at the window, wiping the blood away with his arm and gesturing for Miles to exit the cab.