by CJ East
Venkat pounced at Chang, “Is it not the number I told you, Chang?”
Chang looked skeptically at Venkat, “Yes, it is the number you whispered to me.” He turned back to Sashenka. She had a troubled expression of amazement.
Venkat sat back down with his hands captured between his knees, “How did you DO this?”
“You know a good magician never reveals his tricks,” replied Kinch. Venkat’s enthusiasm was electrifying as he explained how he had picked a perfect number.
Kinch tuned out Venkat. He had to uncover how much influence Volkov had built. He looked up at Chang, who was studying the side of his face. “What say you, Chang?”
Chang slid his suspicious gaze from Kinch to Venkat. He was not as amused with the idea of reading minds as Venkat was.
He shifted his feet angling his body toward the door. “Did the two of you arrange this? Venkat, did you?”
“No, I swear on my honor. Kinch read my mind. It is the only scientific explanation. He had a one percent chance of guessing the correct number - one out of a hundred - and an impossible probability of telling me the significance of the number in the correct context. He can read minds!” Venkat was almost out of his head with excitement.
“Give him your seat, Venkat”, Kinch said as he studied Chang.
“Of course!” Venkat said as he leapt from the stool. “Sit down Chang, you will see! It is amazing. It was as if I could feel him inside my head!”
Kinch bristled at the statement. He flashed to Sashenka for her reaction. She was concentrating on what Venkat had said. She caught Kinch’s glance and looked at him with astonishment. Kinch held her gaze and gave her a subtle nod of confirmation.
Chang
Chang’s expression turned gloomy as he stepped toward the stool. Venkat put a reassuring hand on his buddy’s shoulder as he sat down, but Chang hit him with a defensive glare deflating Venkat’s buoyancy. Chang turned to face Kinch, who was watching his every movement, and asked, “So what do you want me to do, now?”
“We are going to have a little fun Chang, relax.” A tone of concern coated his words, but Kinch’s jaw was set, “Think of a number between one and 100 with some significance. No need to be all jumpy, it’s not like you are going to pick number four.” Kinch joked.
“I’m not jumpy at all.” Chang lowered his eyes to his lap, “The spirit world is sacred and should not be mocked,” he said.
Kinch tilted his head as if seeing his friend for the first time. Something was wrong, Chang was never disagreeable. “Sorry man, I’m just knocking on your tetraphobia, nothing to get bent out of shape about. Now, think of a number.”
Chang’s eyes drifted down his jumpsuit to his feet. He sat staring at the floor for a few seconds, lost in distracted thought.
“Chang,” Kinch started, “Are you -”
“I have a number, Kinch,” he said as he rose and walked across the room to Sashenka. He leaned into her ear and whispered the number, and turned back with a distant expression. She watched him walk away with an expression somewhere between concern and fear.
Venkat sensed the change as well and watched in confusion as Chang walked past. Chang sat on the stool without looking at Kinch and held out his hand, palm up.
“Hey,” Kinch reassured as he grabbed his friend’s hand, “No worries, huh?” and bent his head down to catch a look.
Chang met his eyes, forced a tepid smile and repeated, “No worries.”
Kinch covered Chang’s hand with his and closed his eyes. He stepped through the same concentration process he took with Venkat and Sashenka and linked to the light of Chang’s mind portal. He tapped the memory stream flowing in the middle of Chang’s thoughts.
The rush of memories began, from his earliest to most recent with the force and speed of a fire hose, splashing into Kinch’s mind. He saw Chang’s disciplined and structured upbringing, the love for his mother, the constant disappointment from his father. The need fostered deep inside of Chang to be the good son, to be accepted, to be approved. Kinch felt the emotion of inadequacy all around him, of judging eyes which never praised. He hurt for his friend and understand Chang’s genuine happiness when Kinch would complement him on his fighting skill or his witty turn of a phrase.
“Show me Hong Li,” Kinch thought. A feeling of anger engulfed Kinch. Hong Li was brutal to Chang, demanding perfection like his father, but physical. Hong Li had beaten Chang many times and Chang never defended himself. He respected authority even though he despised the man. He did not fear him, but understood he was ruthless and without conscience.
“Volkov?” Kinch thought, and a new emotion of dread and hopelessness emerged. He saw doorways through Chang’s eyes, where Volkov and Hong Li conspired. He saw Hong Li whispering plots to Tai, his soldier and right hand man. He watched as Hong Li and Tai forced Chang and Grace into a room and demanded their unconditional allegiance to China or they would be killed. Tai punched Grace hard in the stomach when she insisted she would not hurt anyone. Hong Li knocked him to the ground and kicked him hard. Kinch’s arms tensed as he watched his friend beaten by Hong Li.
“What are their plans?” Kinch thought, understanding the nature of the men. Physical coldness crept over Kinch when the first images of Hong Li and Tai rushed to him. They yelled at Chang, calling him a coward and a traitor. They wanted him to do something and he refused. They beat him and said he had no honor. They said they would hurt Grace if he did not comply. Chang understood the threats were not empty, they were ruthless and they knew Chang was in love with Grace. He yielded, his face was cut and bleeding - the wound on the side of his face beneath the bandage. Hong Li stood over him, yelling, “Do not disappoint us. If you fail, your dishonor and treason will be your death sentence. Bring the American to this room at 9 AM tomorrow. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes sir,” Chang replied.
Kinch felt empty. He had watched his friend beaten, threatened and his spirit broken by animals. They put him in a box, dropped the decision of life in his lap to spare one. His choice was to save Grace or Kinch.
Chang would lead Kinch to the slaughter tomorrow. The same friend who sat with him now and held his hand. Kinch wanted to be angry, but through the intimacy of the link, Chang’s life was as vivid as his own. Kinch knew him - fully and completely.
“Show me your number,” Kinch thought.
An image of Hong Li hovered above the beaten Chang, menacing and hateful, “Bring the American to this room at 9 AM tomorrow.” Chang had chosen 9.
Kinch severed the link and was thrust back into his own mind. When he came to his senses he was exhausted and breathing hard. He looked into Chang’s face and saw him staring back, his eyes brimming with tears and his lip quivering.
“It’s OK buddy,” Kinch said. “I understand. Your number is nine.”
Tears dropped from Chang’s heavy eyes. He shook his head side to side. “I’m sorry, Kinch. I’m so sorry.”
It was then the quiet of the room was shattered by the distant, violent sound of an explosion ripping through the Colony.
Sabotage
The shock of the explosion ripped through the sleeping colony with the physical reverberation of a huge base bell strike. The lights in Kinch’s cell cut out as darkness and Sashenka’s scream filled the emptiness with fear. Kinch rolled over the bed and grabbed the dagger beneath his towel and leaned into an expected attack from the door. A ghostly, pale blue emergency light flickered to life in the cell as a passive circuit powered up.
When no one burst in, Kinch laid back on the bed in pain. His muscles could not react at the speed he demanded. He sat quietly watching the door in the confusion-filled room.
“What was that? It sounded like a bomb went off!” said Venkat.
“Let’s go!” Kinch groaned as hid the dagger under the towel. “Help lift me.”
Venkat and Chang both grabbed an arm and pulled Kinch from the bed, ducking their heads under his shoulder and hauling him through the door Sashenka held
open wide. He did not try to run. His sneakers dragged behind them. The group ran past Sashenka’s cell and out into the main lobby. Colonists were in the huge, dimly lit room in various stages of being clothed, all confused and shouting.
Kinch scanned down each dark hallway, searching for answer. “Turn me,” he said as he leaned his head to the right. Venkat stood frozen in the chaos. “Venkat, turn right!” Kinch shouted, snapping his head hard to the stunned boy. Venkat snapped to and spun Kinch to see the remaining doorways. One hall was darker than the others.
“Down there!” Kinch pointed, motioning to the hallway which lead to Sashenka’s bio lab. They sped to the passageway and found the air thick with tiny particles of dust. They walked down the short hall to the bio lab door, which was bent outward from the blast. There was no fire, only darkness and the smell of fresh sulfur and burnt rock. He hoisted his right arm from around Venkat and pulled a pen light out of his side cargo pocket as he leaned his weight on Chang.
“What happened here?” asked Chang in a hushed tone. A strange tranquility permeated the darkness considering the din in the main lobby and the recent violence of the explosion. The tiny light skimmed through the dust, over debris and unraveled a tale of overturned nursery platforms, ruined mature plants and twisted shelving.
Venkat bent to pick up a tangle of bean plants and muttered a sad observation: “Our food and oxygen.”
“Are there any explosives in here Sashenka?” Kinch yelled back into the darkness without taking his eyes from the searching pen light.
“No, the fertilizers are non-combustive and no chemicals are under pressure,” she said stepping over uprooted plants and soil which hours before she tended with such care.
The most disorder seemed to be in the back of the lab, where materials tilted outward and at strange angles, like a wave of violence frozen in time. The rear stone wall had a fresh cavern carved into it, blackened and charred. Kinch guided the tiny light down from the ceiling, over the smoldering wall, to the large geometrical rock debris strewn floor when he saw them. A pair of reflective sneakers attached to an olive jumpsuit. He passed the light in a quick arc up and over.
“Sashenka, we are going to need better lights. Go get.” he paused, running a probability scenario. His voice cracked, choking back a force of emotions pressing into his mind, “Get Doug. Tell him the explosion was in the bio lab.”
Sashenka didn’t say a word, but turned and navigated through the wreckage to get help.
“I knew nothing about this Kinch,” Chang whispered.
“I know you didn’t,” consoled Kinch. “We can’t go back now, everything is changed.”
They looked down at the lower halves of two olive green USA team members - one with large reflective taped sneakers on his feet, the other heavy combat boots. Kinch lifted his arm from around Chang, steadied himself on his shoulder and took a cautious step forward. Horror and emptiness ravaged his mind as he knelt down and put his hand on the leg above the sneaker. He felt the thickness around and the large amount of hair.
“Jeff. Jeff Curtis”, Kinch stated. He was moving away from the emotion swirling around him.
“Kinch,” Chang started, but stopped. “Who is the other one?”
“Sully,” he whispered. He didn’t need to check. He inhaled a deep breath to control the rage and hurt as he struggled upright. “Feel his ankle,” Kinch observed as he turned to Chang, “It’s cold.”
Venkat turned a stunned face to Kinch, “This points to death occurring before the explosion.” Venkat stepped over a warped grow light ballast to Sully’s body. “Colonel Sullivan is cold as well.”
“Dead men don’t set off explosions,” Kinch whispered. He wanted to break something. He felt the anger saturating his whole body. He visualized it as a dark smoke twisting about him, the thick cloud he had felt as a child. He visualized himself pushing it down into a box. Forcing it down, pushing back the emotion and dealing with the situation in front of him as Sully and Jeff would tell him to do. He had to gain control. He took another deep breath and exhaled in an even stream, visualizing the closing of the box. He visualized a closing padlock on the lid as a familiar coldness filled the void in his chest which ached moments before. He was ready.
Voices began to grow louder with the sound of running footsteps and erratic swaths of light. The doorway erupted with colonists surveying the damage until someone said, “Over there,” and the three had to raise their hands to block the light.
“Lower your lights,” Kinch shouted impatiently. “Be careful where you step.”
A familiar Russian voice barked out, “Chang, Hong Li is asking for you. You are needed to monitor ventilation systems. He is in the facilities room. Venkat, Arjun requests you in the control center. Getting the lights restored is your highest priority.”
Kinch felt the hatred bubbling from deep inside, tempting him to a point of quivering action. He counted the figures as they weaved their way through the rubble. Six, maybe seven.
“Yes, General Volkov,” Chang obeyed and started through what used to be the tool storage area.
“Right away,” shouted Venkat, as he stole a worried glance at Kinch.
Kinch mastered his anger and started to think, “Venkat and Chang called away. Sashenka would be one of the shadows. She ran to get Doug, he should be in the group.”
“What happened here, Kinch?” It was Dr. Doug Mrazik, Google team lead. He was a tall, thin geek - electrical engineering. The kind of theoretical intellectual who believes there is a solution for every problem.
Kinch new how to handle Doug. Instead of telling him what happened, he would present evidence to lead him to his conclusion. He wobbled without support as they approached. “We saw the emergency lights were not working down here and followed the debris trail. It appears there was an explosion,” He said.
Kinch counted the outlines as the figures climbed over what used to be a seed bed filled with soil. He hobbled toward them. Six.
“Be careful what you touch,” Kinch warned. “Two casualties: Colonel Sullivan and Jeff Curtis. Their bodies blown in half.”
Kinch could make out their faces now: Doug and Ron - from the Google team, Sashenka, Volkov, and three of Viktor’s Russian goons. Too coincidental the Russians are here, he thought. Kinch had to position the argument about the Colony and not let it get personal. With Sully gone, the only chance these colonists have is for the group to see this as murder, as a coup.
Doug’s face was pale and betrayed the disbelief in the words he heard. He walked past Kinch to the bodies. Kinch did not turn, but met eyes with Volkov navigating and clearing a path. Volkov’s stony expression did not betray surprise or satisfaction at the news. He searched past Kinch to the carnage spread behind him. Sashenka was the last to scramble over the wreckage with an outstretched hand from Kinch. “Let me handle this,” he whispered. Her hand was already over her mouth to suppress any uncontrolled sounds of shock she would make. She nodded in relief.
Doug was bent down at the bodies. “My God, how could this happen?” he said.
“Saboteurs,” Volkov assessed with frigid confidence, “and incompetent ones at that.”
Kinch bristled at the claim. His shoulder tensed as he acknowledged the three Russian men behind him.
“What?” Doug asked in disbelief. “Are you suggesting these men destroyed the lab intentionally?”
“Evidence demands this conclusion. Look around you. Ask yourself why is nothing on fire, Mr. Mrazik? C-9, a low-oxygen explosive engineered for excavation in Mars atmosphere was used here. This was not an accidental explosion. Examine the blast pattern. It has removed large sections of the stone wall and floor.” He guided his light through the crime scene and ended his presentation with his light on the crater devouring both wall and floor corner. The two partial corpses of Sully and Curtis lay twisted in burnt, grisly piles at the rim.
“You do agree of course with C-9 assessment, Mr. McGrath,” General Volkov said, the light from his light reflec
ting on his bruised face. “You are the explosives expert for the excavators.”
“Without a doubt,” Kinch stepped forward, “C-9 was used here. The troubling fact about the explosion is it happened moments ago. We ran straight here. Sully” the name slammed into his gut like a cannonball, “the bodies, they were room temperature when we arrived. Something doesn’t add up.”
Kinch saw Volkov lift his head and straighten to his full height. Mrazik bent down and grabbed Sully’s exposed leg. He turned back to Kinch searching for more information.
Kinch continued. “I agree with General Volkov. The blast pattern indicates the charge was detonated against the wall. It appears at the meeting of the wall to the floor, but their bodies are disintegrated from the top to mid-section, which is strange. And the C-9, the manual detonation interface is engineered to be foolproof.”
Mrazik stood abruptly and faced Kinch, “What are you suggesting happened here?”
Kinch surveyed the group to make sure everyone was following the story, he did not want to overstate the obvious. He made a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, “It’s difficult to say, but something just doesn’t make sense,” he said.
Volkov turned and glared at Kinch. His lips thinned into a tense wire of malice.
Mrazik looked to Ron Lackey with a strain of pontification on his brow. “Yes, something doesn’t make sense. We need to look at this from an objective perspective. It is obvious when you consider the whole as more than the sum of its parts: These men could not have been the saboteurs as you have suggested, General. Here, feel their bodies for yourself. They are room temperature and have been dead for hours. They were dead and laying on the floor when the C-9 was detonated.” Mrazik flashed a self-satisfied smile to Ron who was nodding in affirmation.
“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, taking Doug’s cue.
Kinch was still holding Sashenka’s hand. He squeezed it tight and took a small step backwards. Sashenka became aware of his movement and paralleled him as if led in a dance.
