“It is remarkable what Frane was able to accomplish from exile, and while on the run for five years,” Lieutenant Jift, the military commander of our area, reported. He was a severe feline, with almost emaciated features and a patch over one eye even more intimidating than Xarr’s own. His lips were pulled back over his sharp teeth in a natural sneer, the result of the wound that had taken his right eye. His manner was straightforward and unembellished, which I found refreshing, if frightening. “The F’rar clan was more secretive and subversive than we ever imagined. All the while they integrated themselves into the new government – at the insistence of Queen Haydn –” at this mention of my mother’s name he glared at me balefully “–they were drawing plans against the rest of the clans, and against the Second Republic.”
“We are not here to point fingers,” Thomas said mildly, seeking the role of conciliator.
“I point fingers where there is blame!” he shouted, and then immediately bowed curtly in my direction. I knew he had lost many family members not only in the first war, but in the present one, by treacherous F’rar hands. I gave him a slight bow in return.
“What would you have us do, Lieutenant?” I asked, trying to hide my own ire at his slur of my mother’s memory.
“Kill all F’rar,” he nearly spat.
“How dare you!” Rella, the sole F’rar member of the council who had come with us, replied immediately.
“Lieutenant!” Thomas pleaded.
Jift turned his evil eye on Rella. “I stand by my words.”
“This is impossible!” Rella shouted, pushing her chair back as she stood up. “Either the Commander or I must leave this room! Everyone knows I have tried to do nothing but intervene with my people to end this terrible conflict!”
There was silence, and then I stood and said, “We will all leave, as I call this meeting adjourned. We will reconvene tomorrow morning at the hour of ten.”
Both Rella and the Lieutenant sought to catch my eye, but I quickly left the room, Thomas in tow.
“You are learning, sire,” he whispered to me.
“Am I?” I said. “I fear before this is over that there will be bloodshed in our own ranks.
These weeks at Olympus Mons, though fraught with bad news and worry, were also filled with wonder.
There was the volcano itself, of course. Though my movement was restricted, it was the restriction of a man in the middle of a vast ocean. The tunnels that had been outfitted for our comfort were many, and held many pedestrian sights – but it was the outside plains, and the unexplored sections of the lava tubes, that provided me with my greatest pleasures.
To experience these delights, I had to result to a bit of subterfuge, of course. Thomas was easy to lose, lost in thought as he usually was; but there were other guards and minders that also had to be left behind. I developed a system that worked, whereby I would fake a spell or spasm (though these things seldom happened to me anymore) and, when those closest to me went for help, I would slip away. It worked for a while, but when my methods were discovered I had to work on subtle variations. For instance, after faking a fainting spell, now one of my attendants would leave, instead of both – I then had to fictionalize a second malady, more severe and usually involving unconsciousness, which could only be alleviated by the dispatch of the second minder.
Then I would wander off where I pleased.
I discovered many marvels in this fashion. Always a science buff, I found fossils that I knew would be of interest to Newton and his Science Guild. One of them at least I was sure was a partial skeleton of one of the Old Ones. For one thing it was much too long for a feline, and strangely proportioned. I was reminded of one of the pictures in the crumbling book my mother had used to name my sister and me. The torso was elongated to a strange degree, nearly half again my own height, and the fingers of the single hand that had been preserved were long and thin. The pelvis looked strange, also, as if this creature had never for a moment walked upon all fours, even in rest.
There were other treasures in this wonderland, almost too innumerable to name. There were crystals and rocks and minerals for my collection, as well as internal volcanic springs of water that, I was sure, had never been seen by feline eyes. It was near one of these that I found the Old One skeleton. Had he stumbled here in search of water, and perished on the shores in sight of his need? There were strange fish fossils beside him. Perhaps he had eaten, and been poisoned by a species of aquatic animal inhospitable to his system?
I wondered if he had been a prospector like me, in search of mineral treasures – as when I found, not far from the scene of the Old One’s demise, a cavern alight with minerals producing their own inner light, which put anything I had ever seen in a museum to shame.
And then there was what I can only call ‘the ghost’.
There had, as Thomas had mentioned, always been vague rumors about Olympus Mons – that, being the King of all mountains, it must surely be haunted. There were tales in books and popular media about prospectors and explorers who had ventured into the bowels of the volcano in search of history or treasure and never been heard of again. Every exotic place nurtured such stories, and Olympus Mons was no different.
I had discounted such nonsense, of course.
And yet, on the very day I discovered the skeleton of the Old One, I heard the ghost myself.
As I crouched mesmerized on the bank of the spring, studying the bones of this ancient Man of Mars, I heard the faintest of sounds in front of me and to my right. I thought at first that Thomas or his guards were coming for me and, even though the sound came from in front of me, that echoes were doing their work. I stood up and dusted my hands, waiting for their arrival.
But no one came.
And then I heard the sound again.
It was in front of me, for sure. There was the dark maw of a cave tributary far across the stream, but the sound did not originate from there. It seemed to come from the cave ceiling, where a group of ledges that looked like nothing so much as the faintly etched steps of a ladder were set into the lava wall.
My torch sputtered as the faint voice came again, more clearly: “Followww . . .”
The fur on the back of my neck stood up straight, and I took a step back. I reached for my torch and held it up, studying the rock wall, which rose high into the dimness. Was there an opening up there near the cave roof?
I could not be sure.
The ethereal voice called once more: “Followww . . .”
My fear was quickly replaced by curiosity, and when the voice sounded again, I sat abruptly, put the torch aside, took off my boots, and, retrieving the torch, stepped forward, into the rivulet of water, carrying my boots with me.
I shivered, feeling its chill on my feet.
“Followww . . .”
The ghostly voice was definitely coming from the top of the cave to the right.
“Who are you?” I called, hearing my own voice echo.
There came no answer.
I made my way to the wall, noting more bones on the far shoreline of the stream. I sat and re-laced my boots, then stood and was confronted by a definite set of steps leading up.
“Come...”
“Yes, I’m coming!” I shouted, and put my foot into the first solid inset in the wall–
“Sire!” Thomas’s voice shouted at me from behind.
I quickly stepped down and turned to see Thomas emerging, a frantic look on his face, from the far tunnel. He stopped, nearly stepping on my skeletal find near the shore.
“Don’t move!” I shouted at him, and he stood still. Behind him were three anxious looking guards.
“I’m all right!” I said making my way back. “Look down!”
Thomas’ did so, and nearly jumped back.
“Oh!”
“We must preserve the skeleton, as is.”
Thomas bent down and was examining my find. “This is a very fine specimen.”
I was already taking my boots off again to re-cross
the stream. For some reason I did not want Thomas to know what else I had found.
There were no further whispers from above me.
I made my way across the cold water, and put my boots back on.
“There looked to be more bones across the stream. But there was nothing,” I lied.
Thomas was still studying the skeleton of the Old One. “You should not have dodged your keepers. This must not happen again,” he scolded, distractedly.
“I promise I won’t. But you must admit this is a find.”
“Yes . . .”
“We must save it for Newton.”
“Indeed...”
I followed him out of the cave, surrounded by guards, the echo of that ghostly whisper still in my ears.
Nine
Thus were my first weeks in the bowels of the great Olympus Mons spent – more in idleness and frustration, while my people fought and died in my name – than anything else.
Finally I could stand it no more, and convened a Council meeting. We met in one of the opulently appointed spaces that had been built in a particularly roomy cavern. The living and work quarters were like a city within a mountain. Even a measure of royalty had been maintained, with a copy of the table and chairs we had used back in Wells in the palace. Nothing, however, could hide the fact that our four manufactured walls were open at the top, revealing the arch of a red cavern high above.
I noticed on entering this faux Council chamber that Rella’s place was empty.
Thomas leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Be patient. We will hear of this.”
Ignoring him, I demanded, “Where is Senator Rella?”
Lieutenant Jift’s smirk was in good form today. “She has been detained. I have proof that she is a spy, Sire.”
“What!” I thundered.
Jift sat down, sated in his furnishing of surprise.
Thomas put a hand on my arm. “We will speak of these things.”
“Speak of them now!”
Jift took a deep breath, and stood. “Very well, Sire. It is not on the top of our agenda, but I would be happy to clear this up now. Quite simply, Rella of Hellas is a spy.”
My glare must have told him to continue, because he did so.
“She was caught with a message receiver in her chambers. Apparently she had been trying to contact her cohorts in Wells and give away our position.”
“How do you know that’s what she was doing?” I demanded.
“It is obvious. She is F’rar, and so must be a traitor –”
“She pledged an oath to me!”
The commander looked down at me as if I was still a kit. He slowly spread his paws. “Sire, the evidence is clear. She sought your destruction, and the destruction of the republic.”
I held my tongue, and Jift took his seat, smiling with satisfaction.
“Is there more business?” I snapped, my mind still on this revelation.
“Indeed,” Thomas said.
At that moment old general Xarr entered the room, blustering.
“Xarr!” I shouted, leaving my seat to embrace him. It was not good form, but I didn’t care.
He returned my embrace, but his features were grim. “Perhaps you will not be so content to see me when you hear my report.”
I retook my seat and Xarr went to an empty place and stood.
“The war is going badly for us, I’m afraid,” he reported. “Frane’s treachery was incredibly well planned and her influence widespread. In every city and town there were F’rar traitors just waiting for her word.”
I thought of Rella as the general went on.
“After Wells was lost, then Bradbury, the twin cities of Sagan and Shliovski quickly fell, despite Newton’s best efforts.”
Before I could interject, Xarr added quickly, looking in my direction, “Newton and his people are safe. Preparations had been made. But I’m afraid that the main facilities of the Science Guild have been lost to the enemy – even if few of Newton’s secrets were left to take.”
“He –”
Xarr nodded curtly. “Newton destroyed most of the labs and underground bunkers, rather than have them fall into Frane’s hands. But there were even a few F’rar spies in his midst, and some of the facilities are now in Frane’s hands.”
A small gasp went up around the room, and Xarr nodded. “Among them were some . . . sensitive material, I’m afraid. One of the Newton’s closest advisors turned out to be a traitor.” He took a deep breath and continued. “In other cities and towns . . .”
Xarr went on for another fifteen minutes, but I barely heard him until his summation: “So there we have it. We have been pushed from the major centers of commerce and technology, into the hills and dunes. We have become a desert army once more. And . . .”
He looked at me with his one good eye.
“. . . Frane is now heading this way.”
Another collective gasp, and I saw Jift’s smile widen ever so slightly, as if to say, ‘I told you so.’”
“How long before she arrives?”
“Weeks yet. She has headed out from Wells on foot, gathering her army to her as she goes. I would guess she knew of this fortress all along. When she gets here she will have amassed forty thousand troops at a minimum. Perhaps many more.”
“Then we will be ready for her!” I said.
Even as I uttered the words I knew they were foolish. It was Xarr who saved me from having to admit it.
“Sire,” he said, his voice a somber rumble, “we have barely three thousand at present. Another four can get here in the next two weeks when the call goes out – as, indeed, it already has. We have certain defenses, but they are not impenetrable. True, we are built to withstand siege . . .”
“Continue, Xarr,” I said.
His face, his tone, his visage, became, if anything, even more somber. “But siege is not what Frane has planned. I have a few spies of my own, still, and not every F’rar is a traitor. It seems that Frane has no intention of siege.”
There was a complete hush in the room.
“What, then?” I asked, finally breaking the silence with impatience.
Xarr turned his one baleful eye on me. For a moment he could not speak. “Do you remember what happened to my own city of Burroughs in the last war?” he asked, his voice choking with emotion.
I went cold from my ears to my toes. “Yes . . .” I said slowly.
“Apparently Frane has spent her time wisely, developing an even greater version of the weapon that wiped my home from the face of Mars. A concussion device of monstrous proportions.”
“How–?”
Xarr banged on the table with his clenched paw. “The how is irrelevant, Sire! It has been done. This is a fact. Even though your mother destroyed her evil scientist, Talon, she did not succeed in killing his knowledge. In the hills, all these years, Frane and her cohorts have been building a weapon more destructive than anything that has ever been seen on Mars.” He sighed heavily. “The good news is that it is so massive that it cannot be transported by airship. Otherwise she would have used it by now.” Again he sighed, and his voice lowered. “At least then we would have had a chance to shoot it down, or destroy it with one of our own superior airships.”
“Why can’t we destroy it on the ground?” I asked.
“Because we don’t know where it is, and because it has been broken up into many pieces small enough to hide in a massive army. It will be reassembled when Frane and her army reach Olympus Mons, and then detonated.”
Xarr paused again.
“And then,” he said, his voice cracking, “she will, in one moment, wipe Olympus Mons from the face of Mars.”
Ten
I went to visit Rella in her cell.
It was not a hospitable place. Dank and dark, with drizzles of water pooling on the floor, it was well in the bowels of the explored regions and well guarded. Jift did not want me to go there but Xarr, who was about to leave for the East, interceded on my behalf.
“It
is good for the boy to see real life,” he said, which was a mysterious thing for him to say at the time. Later I knew what he meant.
She received me with courtesy, as always. It pained me to see this object of my former puppy love so disheveled and unhappy.
“Are they treating you well?” I asked, almost timidly.
She looked at me curiously. “Well enough. Why have you come here, Sire?”
“To hear from your own lips that you are innocent.”
She turned away from me, and looked up at the single window, cut high in the rock wall of the cell, which was dark. It looked out not on daylight outside the mountain but merely on the tunnel which led here.
“I had a son, your age,” she said. The sadness of her voice tugged at my heart. She sounded as if she was speaking to herself, or someone else long gone. “He was killed after the last war, when violence against my clan peaked. This was just after your mother’s victory. He was just a kit, and was in his father’s arms.”
She turned to face me. “My husband was murdered, too, trying to save my son. I had one of two roads to take, then. I could take the road of vengeance, and try to pay the republic back for what they had done to my family – or I could make sure that something like the last war never happened again.”
She took a step toward me, and her eyes flashed. “I wanted to take the road of vengeance. With all my heart I wanted to. But I did not. My father was a diplomat, and his father before him. We all opposed Frane. For their troubles, my father and grandfather were murdered by their own people. I decided to become a diplomat, too, in the new republic, and do everything I could for my clan.” Her voice became a hiss, and she took another step toward me, her eyes flashing gold, one hand thrust outward with the short claws fully extended. “But I did not betray you, and I will go to my death protesting my innocence.”
“Your death –” I said, momentarily speechless. “Do you mean to say –?”
She straightened, and her eyes lost some of their fire. “You didn’t know? The orders of execution were signed by Xarr when he arrived yesterday.”
Sebastian of Mars Page 5
