A sound began to hum from the mini-volcano. Air, rushing upwards, accompanied by a high pitch whine. Suddenly, two bodies were ejected from the nosecone and hit the surrounding sand bed. Mars and Barry rolled painfully to the base of the volcano. Before they even stopped rolling, Anna was running. Lisa was also on her feet, though Edna just continued to stare bovinely ahead.
Mars shifted painfully on his side, trying to get his bearings. Barry was up almost immediately, backing away from the giant Sel robots that continued to stand implacably, zombie-like, watching the humans move about on the sand hill.
Anna helped Mars to his feet, then kissed him hard on the mouth. “I thought you were dead.”
“You always did tend to over-react,” he said through a grunt of pain. Lisa ran up next to him, clinically watching for anything more than a few bruises to manifest. She then turned to Barry, and backed up a step.
“It’s okay,” Mars said, realizing why Lisa was distancing herself from the boy. “He’s the real thing.”
For the first time, Edna now moved. She walked over to Barry, and reached out to him. She squeezed his arms, then took his face in her hands, and stared at his mouth.
“No tongue. He’s fine,” she said, and began to cry. Lisa put her arms around her, as Mars turned back to Anna.
“Ravers killed Myoga at the cave, remember?”
Anna nodded, pain crossing her beautiful face. “Yes.”
“Where’s Wes Simpson?” Mars asked.
Anna shrugged. “We were brought here. Simpson wasn’t with us. I assume he was either killed or taken with you.”
Mars looked at the big robots and the Sels on top. Anna drew closer to him. “Why did Ravers open fire on us like that?”
“Because he’s working with the aliens,” Mars said, closing his eyes for a moment. “They’re about to invade Earth. Ravers and a few others are helping them do it.”
Anna stared in disbelief. “My god.” She had known Chase Ravers as long as Mars, in fact, longer, since her admittance into the space program preceded that of Mars by a few months. That he as part of this traitorous union … all measure of reality had disintegrated, Anna decided at last. This planet was Hell, Inc., give up all hope ye who enter here.
Four more robots appeared over the hill, each one with a Sel rider affixed to their massive backs. Ravers was walking in front of them. As if he were leading the damn things, Mars noted. Well, in a way, that’s exactly what he was doing.
Mars stepped away from Anna and raised his pulse rifle automatically. Ravers saw the move and smiled.
“Kill me, John, and Mrs. Casey dies next.”
Mars held Ravers in his sights.
“Followed by the lovely Dr. Maynard and the boy. Last to go will be Anna. They’ll keep you alive to watch them expire, one by one.”
Mars lowered the rifle. Bastard. He’d do it, too.
Ravers continued walking toward Mars and his people; the attendant robots with the Sels stopped in their tracks. Ravers nodded toward Anna. “Hello, Anna.”
Anna stared at him stonily.
“Talk, Ravers,” Mars said tonelessly.
Ravers shrugged amicably. “Think of this as GO in Monopoly, John. Look out there,” he said, pointing to a distant horizon of rocks and undergrowth. Polarized light from the dusk only an hour away merged with the strange lambent flickering that reflected off the oblong, craterless moons of this world. The effect was, in a word, spooky.
Mars followed Ravers hand. A low ground mist had begin to swirl across the tundra, curling around the warped, alien vegetation with an almost conscious purpose.
“Approximately two miles from here, you’ll find a spacecraft. It’s fully automated. Once you board it, the ship’s computer will plot a course for Earth. Granted, it’s one of the Sel’s out of date star vessels, but they assure me its completely spaceworthy. With a lot of sleep and a little luck, you’ll re-enter the Milky Way in eight months. One month later, you’ll be back on Earth. So I’ve been told and promised.”
Mars suppressed an insane urge to laugh. “And we’re supposed to believe that. They’re just going to let us take off and everyone goes their own separate way, no hard feelings.”
“I don’t believe the Sels would understand the concept of lying,” Ravers said without inflection. “They’re terrific at action and follow through, but weak on imagination. It would never occur to them.”
Mars didn’t blink. “Let’s assume that’s true for a moment. What’s the catch that allows us this glorious chance for escape?”
Ravers smiled and nodded approvingly.
“Surviving the Gauntlet,” Ravers replied.
“The Gauntlet,” Mars repeated. “Just what the hell is that, Ravers?”
“Two miles of hell, John. Poisonous snakes, quicksand, freak wind storms, and a few other nasty surprises you’d never find on Earth. It is through the Gauntlet that the Sels will conduct their hunt.”
Their hunt, Mars repeated to himself. So that was it. One big happy Safari, and the prey would be Mars, a boy, and three women. Now there’s a fuckin’ challenge, he thought bitterly.
“Get to the ship safely and board her -- you’re home free. Fail -- well, unfortunately, there is no consolation prize for failure.”
Mars walked over to Ravers, shaking his head. “You might as well murder us now. What chance do we have?”
“You’ll be given weapons, supplies, some necessary equipment to help you along the way,” Ravers said.
“These people aren’t trained for something like this,” Mars protested again.
“The Sels don’t care about that,” Ravers said indifferently. “In fact, they care very little for the others, aside from seeing their importance to you and how you respond in the field with such encumbrances.”
“Encumbrances,” Mars said. “So that’s what human life has become for you. An encumbrance?”
Ravers snapped back angrily. “Don’t preach to me about human life, Colonel. You have fifty two kills on your record, mister.”
“Combat operations,” Mars snapped back. “War. I wasn’t involved in a goddamn human safari!”
Ravers’ anger had suddenly dissipated. “Depends on your point of view, I suppose. You’re a killer, John, when it gets right down to the truth of things. It’s how you made your living. In any case, those are the rules of the game.”
Ravers turned to the nearest Sel and his robot, and nodded. The Sel reached into a huge, leathery looking container and pulled out some pulse rifles with its various claws. It threw the weapons on the ground near Mars and Anna. Another Sel threw some rope down next to the weapons.
“Are you actually going to hunt us down, like animals?” Anna asked Ravers.
“Not me, Anna,” Ravers said softly. He then turned to the Sels and the robots. “Them.”
Mars was already surveying the horizon, weighing the chances of surviving this mess within the next hour. Forgetting for a moment the unpredictable and terrible terrain Ravers promised within the Guantlet, there was the more overwhelming danger of the Sels themselves. He remembered how fast the robots could move; presumably, the Sels themselves were just as nimble. Against those odds alone, Mars realized his small band of survivors were as good as dead.
And the Sels must realize this dismal fact as well, Mars thought. But they don’t seem to care. Maybe that’s the point. They were doomed, but it would be interesting to observe how doomed prey would respond once released into the wilds with the hope of even some small measure of survival.
Mars still stared at the horizon, but spoke to Ravers. “Just one more question, Ravers.”
“Of course,” Ravers said. “Anything.”
Mars turned to the other man. “How did you get the most powerful men on Earth to agree to this kind of madness?”
Ravers now took several steps forward. He tore open his tunic. There, protruding from his chest, was one of the tusk-like instruments that Paul Casey had worn out of the back of his neck. Mars could se
e that not only was the Sel instrument now integrated with Ravers’ body, but that something else was happening as well: Ravers was turning into a Sel himself.
“You ask how? I give you this: incentive. The aliens are taking over. Not with a bang and a drum roll and the waste of interstellar war or genocide. But like a thief in the night. Within three years, they’ll have assimilated Earth. A new species of humanity will walk in place of the weaker one that currently exists.”
Mars took a deep breath. “If the Sels can take over like this, why bother to learn to fight us? Why this Gauntlet? For what purpose, other than some kind of sadistic alien passtime?”
Ravers shook his head emphatically. “You don’t understand the Sels, John. They aren’t sadistic. They exist simply to conquer. It’s their nature. They are professional destroyers. They do --” Ravers paused for thought, then smiled. “Face it, John. They do what we used to do. Like us, they’re killers. They just don’t encumber themselves with the moral right or wrong of killing.”
“You admire them,” Mars said evenly.
“No. I simply recognize the stronger party. There’s another reason they need to still study you, John.”
“What is that?”
“There are still men on Earth like you. Willful, defiant, unpredictable. When the Sel fleet begins its takeover process, they’ll run into your type of human. But by studying you, John, the Sels will have some idea of what can be done to neutralize similar warriors.”
Your type of human. Ravers was beginning to even talk like one of them. Besides himself, Mars could tell that Anna and the others were equally repelled by Ravers and what he said. They regarded him as if he were an alien, to be feared, to be killed, if given half a chance.
Anna stepped forward, and held Ravers’ eyes. She then brought back her fist and hit him hard. The blow snapped Ravers’ head to the right with an audible snap, but did little more than that. Ravers looked to Anna, almost sadly. He felt his jaw, then studied Mars.
“You’ll have 30 minutes head start. Then they’ll come after you,” he said softly.
Mars turned from Ravers, and looked to the others.
“John,” Ravers said.
“What?”
“I hope you make it. I really do.”
Mars laughed humorlessly. “Why?”
“We were friends once. In that spirit -- I wish you godspeed,” Ravers said.
Mars could tell that this much at least was said with some remnant of human sincerity, no matter how much of Ravers had changed. Or was still changing, he corrected himself miserably.
"Ravers," Mars said. "Why not just send me through the Gauntlet. I'm the one the Sels want to study."
Ravers smiled. "Nice try, John. And if it were up to me, I'd say that would be fine. But the Gauntlet is a group endeavor. Don't make me explain. You'll soon discover what I mean."
"Then let Anna and me go through. Not the others. They don't have the training."
"Sorry, John," Ravers was adamant. "All of you. That's the game."
"They won't make it," Mars said through a growl.
Ravers stepped right up next to Mars. "They have you, John. The best handicap in this world, or any other. Now get out of here. The clock is ticking."
SEVEN
THE GAUNTLET
Mars led the way, and Anna took up the rear. The robot aliens remained near Ravers, presumably as good as their word not to start the pursuit until thirty minutes had elapsed. Mars checked his watch; they were moving uphill and had been on the move for ten minutes. The robot Sels and their masters were turning into small blips on the horizon.
Small comfort, John thought. He knew how fast the robot scorpions could move. Once they started the hunt, they'd catch up to his group within the hour.
Edna and Lisa both moved as quickly as they could. Anna did her best to hurry them along, but Edna was almost fifty years old and was already puffing from the exertion. Mars realized that speed and time were not his allies, and that a counteroffensive to the Sel safari would have to be contemplated. All fine and dandy, but how could they defend themselves against the Sels with a few pulse rifles and some rope?
Something moved directly ahead of them in the low brush. Mars brought his weapon up and fired. A tree crackled and burst into flame, as Mars' heat-charge engaged it. Another noise to his right made him turn. He fired again.
"Hey," a familiar voice yelled out from a rock near the last tree engulfed in flame. "We're on your side, okay, pardner?"
Mars lowered the pulse rifle. Wes Simpson raised both hands in the air, as he came out from around a giant boulder. Following him, was Sally, the Sel Alien.
Mars couldn't help but smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mr. Simpson, but we thought you were --"
"Dead?" Simpson grinned back. "Damn near was, except this little old filly here saved my ass in the pinch." He jerked a thumb toward Sally.
Lisa ran toward Simpson and hugged him, tears streaming down her face.
"Well," Simpson said softly, hugging her back. "I should die more often."
Mars regarded the alien Sel, now christened Sally by Simpson. "Thank you," he said.
Sally came toward Mars, and looked into the direction that Mars had been steering his group. "I -- know about Gauntlet. It -- very dangerous."
Mars nodded. "So we've been told." He glanced again at Wes Simpson and Lisa Maynard. She was kissing him now.
"Missed you, Jersey," Simpson said, responding to the kiss.
"Missed you, too, Texas," Lisa replied and kissed him again.
Barry glanced back in the direction they had come, then edged close to Mars. "Captain, I don't mean to be the turd in the punchbowl, but we don't have a lot of time. Maybe we should keep moving?"
Mars couldn't help but grin. "Kid, you've got a point."
They moved single file, with Sally in the lead this time. Mars checked his watch for the tenth time. The thirty minute mark was fast approaching. The Sel robots and their murderous payload would shortly be underway, the hunt being technically then afoot. Sally stopped so suddenly, that Mars almost tripped over the big alien.
"Danger," she hissed.
Mars looked around, seeing nothing imminently perilous. They had walked into a sandy patch of ground, curiously devoid of vegetation and the gnarled earth-penetrating roots that seemed to characterize the majority of the surface of this world.
Sally was staring at the ground, her enormous tail twitching above her nervously.
Something moved ten feet from where Mars was standing. Then it broke the surface of the sand. It resembled a cobra, except the eyes were larger, and the fangs were multitudinous in number. It struck directly for Mars, but Sally was too quick for the attack. Her tail harpooned the enormous snake in mid-air; she lassooed it in front of herself, then tore off the serpent's head with her powerful jaws.
But the danger didn't end there. Other snakeheads were breaking the ground.
"We've got trouble," Mars said. He turned, and fired at a snake that was preparing to strike at Anna. The snake's head exploded, and the twenty foot long body twitched and shuddered like a severed electric wire.
"Everyone, move very slowly," Mars hissed to his people. "Don't run. These things are like rattlesnakes. They see a rush of movement, they'll strike."
"Rattlesnakes?" Edna responded incredulously. "I've seen convertibles that were smaller than these things."
Mars didn't slow down to debate the issue. He continued to edge his way behind Sally, setting an example for the rest directly to his rear. The giant pit vipers had ceased their more or less collective mini-attack; now, their heads swayed to and fro, half above the sand, eyeing Mars and the others with pitch black eyes of fury and respect.
They passed out of the snake pit, onto rockier ground, which led to a rockface a hundred feet high. There was no immediate way around it, short of a mile in either direction. The robot Sels would catch up to them in half the time it would take to circumvent the wallface. There was only one w
ay, and that was up.
Mars unwrapped the rope Ravers had tossed to him.
“That’s a helluva crawl,” Simpson noted for them all.
“I’ll scale it, secure the line, then drop it for all of you,” Mars said quickly. He had not rockclimbed in years, but he was the only one remotely qualified to scout the wallface. The voice behind surprised him.
“About time I made myself useful,” Edna quipped, walking up to the front of the single file group.
Mars turned, as did Sally, who barred her fangs with curiosity. Edna smiled at the large alien, then surveyed the cliff in front of her. “Top of my class in rockblimbing. Girl scouts, 1981. More or less.”
Mars was adamant. “No way,” he said.
“I wasn’t always a useless old boozer, Captain,” Edna said firmly. “It takes a half a lifetime to get there. Please, let me do this.”
“I’m sorry,” Mars said with finality, then turned to the task at hand.
“And what if you fall, or get injured,” Edna forced the issue. “What happens to the rest of us? No one else is qualified to get through the Gauntlet. Not only that, what about that flying saucer? You think I could fly it? Or Texas here? Or the kid?”
“Anna is a fully qualified flight officer,” Mars said, not really caring to debate the issue at the moment. Time was running out.
“Fine. But you’re the only combat trained specialist in our group. And you heard that man back there. There’s a lot more ahead we don’t know about,” Edna said.
Mars was a bit stymied; Edna was right. In a military operation, he would have naturally given the rock scaling duty to a subordinate. Command prerogatrive. He studied Edna momentarily; the woman drank, true enough, but she looked strong for all of that. And she had the experience. Another problem still loomed for Mars, the bigger picture problem: if he were busy above on the rockface, what would happen if the Sels turned up? Or if the pit vipers only fifty yards away in the sand traps decided to merrily come onto the scene for more festivities?
Mars, The Bringer Of War Page 18
