The Infinity Trap

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The Infinity Trap Page 14

by Ian C Douglas


  “The latter,” Zeke replied in a sullen tone.

  Justice couldn’t stop staring at them. “So y’all have super powers an’ all?”

  “We prefer the term psychic skills,” Scuff said, nose in the air.

  “And you Mariners can fly an’ all?”

  “Depends,” Scuff continued.

  “Sure would love to see that,” Justice said, wide-eyed at the idea.

  “Un-cuff me and you will,” Zeke suggested, but knew he was grasping at straws.

  Justice cackled like a drain. “I may be a country boy but I’m ain’t no imbecile!”

  “So…where are you from?” Scuff asked.

  “Louisiana,” Justice replied with pride. “You’ll be from the land of moose and maple leaves, I reckon.”

  Scuff nodded. “You’re a long way from the Deep South,” he said.

  Justice grinned from ear to ear. “You’re right. Came here on a school trip. No sooner I’d put foot on dusty soil than I was smitten. Plum fell for the ol’ gal.”

  Zeke and Scuff gave him bewildered looks.

  “Why heck, Mars of course! The Big Pumpkin, the Little Kumquat, Dame Ruby, whatever ol’ nickname you fancy! I knew in a damn Martian minute this was the place for adventure. Ran away from my dullsville teachers. Bummed around Mariners Valley awhile before destiny washed me up on these far shores. Ol’ Mr Cusp gave me a job care-taking his airstrip. And the shack next-door to rest my weary head.”

  “Don’t you miss you parents?” Zeke asked in a horrified voice.

  Justice gazed at his enormous feet. “Ain’t got none. Never did.”

  “So why the, if you’ll pardon me, unusual name?” Scuff said.

  Justice smirked. “All part of being a Freetown citizen. Mr Cusp here says you have to choose a new Martian name and leave your ol’ Earth one behind. Symbolic like. I was plain ol’ Leroy Planchett till recently.”

  “But Justice is, well, a tad unusual,” Scuff went on, scarcely hiding his scorn.

  “Scuff Barnum don’t exactly trip off the tongue, now does it. Nope, Justice is what I believe in. Me and the Freetowners. So I took it for my a.k.a.”

  “You call this justice?” Zeke said bitterly, and jangled his cuffs.

  Justice frowned. “Well, it’s all part of your adventure, I guess. I envy you for that—chasing off to the boondocks. A gen-yoo-ine damsel in distress. Better than them movies!”

  “Then why don’t you help us make it a happy ending?” Zeke asked, and jangled his cuff again. Justice simply winked at them, and sidled away among the antique collections.

  “He’s, how do you say in England, utterly bonkers?” Scuff remarked, rolling his eyes.

  Zeke remained silent.

  “Here!” Ptolemy Cusp boomed with a grand wave.

  The two boys approached, heads lowered. The great man studied his captives for a moment, and nodded to the guard to unlock their cuffs.

  “Those things are tight,” Scuff complained, massaging each wrist in turn.

  “No more tricks, huh boys? We’re all grown-ups here, aren’t we?” Ptolemy said.

  The Freetown leader had deep-set eyes and wide cheekbones. His easy smile revealed large, snow white teeth. He had the air of a man as much at home on a battlefield as a library. Despite himself, Zeke warmed to the leader of Freetown.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Ptolemy said. “You’re on a mission to rescue a friend from that maniac Magma and he’s armed himself with some kind of Hesperian technology?”

  “In a nutshell, bro,” Scuff replied.

  Ptolemy sent Isla a look. “Hesperian technology? How inter-esting.” He returned his attention back to the boys. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you two youngsters are alone on a hostile world. We’ve heard nasty rumours about Magma’s dig. People disappearing. You’d have a much greater chance of success accompanied by, shall we say, a crack team of commandoes.”

  Isla’s mouth dropped. “Tolly—I mean Sir, you’re not suggesting…?”

  “I am indeed, Isla. Don’t let the Craterade incident fool you boys. Isla and her team are tough cookies.”

  “That I know,” Scuff muttered, patting his bruised stomach.

  Ptolemy let out a loud guffaw. “So we’re agreed! Isla will escort you.”

  “And what do you want in return?” Zeke asked softly.

  Ptolemy beamed at him. “All I ask is, after the rescue of your lady friend, you give some serious thought to joining the Unpro.”

  Zeke and Scuff stared at him.

  “Oh I see,” he went on. “You new arrivals aren’t familiar with Martian politics yet. Allow me to enlighten you. Every colony, outpost or damn weather station on this lump of rock is under the protection of one Earth superpower or another.”

  “Oh, you mean the protectorates?” Scuff said.

  Ptolemy nodded. “Tithonium is a protectorate of the United Nations. The Chinese have Hellas Planitia. The Americans have their flag dotted everywhere, and so on. Even your School is a protectorate of the Mariners Institute.”

  Zeke stroked his chin. “And Yuri Gagarin Freetown used to be a Russian Protectorate, but you declared independence and—”

  “Broke free, as any child must from their parent if they are to grow up. And our example has inspired settlers everywhere. We’ve given birth to the Unpro movement, the Unprotected. The True Martian Nation.”

  “The Unpro sound like a bunch of troublemakers to me,” Scuff said with a frown.

  Ptolemy’s smile never wavered. “Spoken like a child of Earth. But if you’d grown up here, like me, you’d feel differently. Mars for the true-borns. That’s the revolution coming, boys, and you two have a chance to join the winning side.”

  “Why can’t Earth and Mars just get along?” Zeke piped up.

  Anger clouded Ptolemy’s handsome face. “Mars isn’t a lifeboat planet. It can’t take everyone escaping Earth’s environmental mess. It’s time for Mars to be more selective. But you can benefit from that.”

  “Really, how exactly?” Zeke asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

  Ptolemy’s charming smile returned. “I advise you to think of the future, Mr Hailey. A friend in high places could come in very useful one day. I could get your family through the Office of Martian Naturalisation and Immigration with a word in the right ear.”

  The word ‘family’ burned in Zeke’s ears. His father! He had completely forgotten about his missing father. Zeke’s future, if he had one, wasn’t going to revolve around an independent Mars. The great leader’s proposal was useless to him.

  “And if we say no to your offer?”

  The great leader sighed. “Then regrettably I must hand you over to the Mariners. Lutz and I go back a long way. Longer than you could imagine.”

  Zeke knew what he had to do.

  “OK, we accept.”

  “We do?” Scuff gasped. “Oh, yes we do.”

  “When will we be ready to leave?” Zeke asked.

  Ptolemy gestured at Isla.

  She scratched her ginger scalp. “A cross-valley mission? I think we could be ready in four days. But that tinplated gyro only seats two, so then another nine days to reach the Noctis Labrynthis on foot.”

  “So be it. Till then I advise you two to rest. We have some guest rooms at the top of Biosphere Two. Isla can escort you.”

  “Sir, shouldn’t we take some precautions?” Isla asked, with a filthy look at Zeke.

  Ptolemy threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Isla! The Freetown runs on trust. We must put faith in Zeke and his friend.”

  Zeke pursed his lips. Surely it wasn’t going to be that easy?

  “Oh, one last little thing,” Ptolemy said, as the boys turned to leave.

  “We’ll need the key to your Red Admiral. Just so Justice can service it, you understand.”

  Zeke and Scuff exchanged looks.

  “Oh sure,” Zeke said with a forced smile, and handed over the key.

  Chapter Thirty

  Bi
osphere Two

  The biosphere door swished open.

  “This is totally nuts,” Scuff whispered, as he peered over Zeke’s shoulder. Outside, beyond the doorway, the Freetown lay sleeping. The sea of shacks and tents and crates was dark and still.

  “Why don’t we take up Ptolemy’s offer?” he went on.

  Zeke sniffed. “We don’t have time, Scuff. And I don’t trust him. The way he’s set himself up as the Emperor of Freetown. The look on his face when we mentioned Hesperians.”

  Scuff chuckled. “The Emperor of Freetown. It fits. Still, I couldn’t help but like him.”

  “Me too, but this revolution is all that matters to him. We’d be pawns.”

  “So you really think we can get into Justice’s shack and find the key?”

  Zeke stuck out his chin. “We have to try.”

  He stepped out into the night. An ear–splitting siren erupted.

  “Oops! An infrared tripwire!” Scuff gasped, glancing down at the bottom of the doorway.

  “RUN!” Zeke barked.

  They sprinted across the dusty courtyard.

  “Where now!” Scuff squawked.

  Zeke desperately turned from right to left. Which way led back to the airstrip? The siren continued wailing. The nearest tents were lighting up.

  No, no, no, thought the little voice inside Zeke’s head. We mustn’t fail!

  At that moment an electrocab sped out from the shadows and pulled up in a flurry of dirt.

  “Shucks, you two just can’t keep out of trouble,” Justice said with an amiable chuckle. He pointed to the backseat. “Make with the hasty exit, boys! Before Isla and her goons come a-swarming like flies to a stale burger!”

  Zeke and Scuff needed no encouragement. They leapt into the rear of the cab and Justice stepped on the accelerator. The wheels shrieked. The electrocab zoomed forward into the forest of tents. Zeke grabbed onto the handrails and glanced back. Another cab was hurtling after them! He couldn’t make out the figures clearly, but Isla’s voice rang shrill and clear above the din of the alarm.

  “STOP IN THE NAME OF PTOLEMY CUSP!”

  “Faster!” Zeke cried to Justice, as the three-wheeler lurched over bump after bump.

  The path weaved deeper into the maze of makeshift homes. At every turn they narrowly missed a canvas-side or a tent peg.

  Justice hooted like a frog. “Sure is fun!” he cackled.

  “Why are you helping us?” Scuff asked, his voice wobbling with the shudder of the cab.

  “Heck, why not?” Justice replied. “Life was getting dull. I fancied a shakedown.”

  “Justice, you can’t come with us,” Zeke said sadly. “There isn’t room in the Admiral.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know!” Justice called back.

  “But, won’t Isla throw you in the slammer?” Scuff asked.

  Justice laughed again. “Slammer? What slammer? You need civilisation for a jail, boys. In case you ain’t noticed, Yuri-Gagarin Freetown is anything but!”

  Zeke steadied himself against the rails. “What will happen to you?”

  “Aw, don’t worry about me,” Justice replied. “A slapped wrist, a smack on the bee-hind, it’ll come right, y’all see.”

  Zeke and Scuff exchanged disbelieving looks.

  Justice said, “You boys are on an adventure. The whole damn sake of why I ran away was for adventure. I just gotta help, or my name ain’t Justice Leroy Planchett.”

  The way ahead suddenly cleared to reveal the airstrip and its tiny shack, dwarfed beneath the vast night sky.

  Justice hit the brakes, throwing the boys off the backseat. They landed on the cabin floor with a hard thump.

  “Oh, catch!” the older boy said, and tossed Zeke the key to the red admiral.

  Zeke clambered out and shook Justice by the hand as forcefully as he could. The words he wanted to say didn’t come, so instead he mumbled a simple, “thank you.”

  Justice’s eyes gleamed with fire. “Y’all go get yer lady friend. I’ll put a spanner in dear ol’ Isla’s works.”

  He revved up the engine and the vehicle zoomed around and back into the shacks.

  Zeke and Scuff sprinted across the tarmac. The loud sound of two unseen electrocabs colliding brought them to a temporary standstill. Shouting and cursing rang through the crisp air.

  Zeke picked up his pace again, aiming the key at the gyro. The admiral beeped into life.

  “Albie open up!” Zeke shouted.

  The windscreen slid over. The boys jumped into their seats. Zeke rammed the key into the ignition slot.

  “Emergency launch,” he yelled.

  The blades started to hum. One of Isla’s security men loomed out of nowhere, nearly upon them. The Red Admiral lifted a few inches. The man leapt onto the fuselage but with nothing to grip, slid off. The gyro turned away from the landing strip and ascended, up into the glittering stars.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ius Chasma

  Zeke peered through the windscreen into an ocean of night. Not a single photon lamp challenged its dominion over Mars. Earth was this way once, he thought, before the invention of electricity. Not the glittering diamond of today, but dark as a lump of coal.

  It was three A.M. They had flown non-stop since escaping Yuri-Gagarin. It was Zeke’s turn to keep an eye on the autopilot. Scuff was snoring loudly beside him.

  “This is about as much fun as Quantum Physics!” Zeke grumbled.

  He tuned into Mars Valley Radio, the only station on the planet. He wanted to catch the news for any mention of bad weather. But all he heard were the latest terra-forming reports. Oxygen levels were up but air pressure was down. Crop yields were stable but immigration was rocketing.

  “Lutz is lying through her teeth.” Zeke remarked to himself.

  After the bulletin the DJ came on the air.

  “This is Raymond Gamma the Third, the man who puts the crackle in the airwaves, here with another all night play list of Country classics. Country and Martian that is.”

  A slow, twangy serenade filled the cockpit. Zeke was exhausted. Listening to the soothing guitar chords he leant back and picked out his favourite constellations. There was Cygnus, Cassiopeia and Cepheus, all flickering like candles. He decided to rest his eyes. Just for a minute…

  ~~~

  He was running. Running and leaping pools of fiery lava. His chest pounded with fear. He glanced back. A vast nebula was gobbling up the horizon. A moon-sized phenomena in the shape of a spiral. His father leapt out from the surrounding flames, reaching out to save him. But, with an agonising scream, Hailey Senior flew into the air, snatched by a jagged tentacle.

  “WAKE UP!”

  It was morning. Scuff was shaking him by the shoulder.

  “LOOK!”

  Scuff pointed to the south. A long, mud-coloured cloud stretched over the canyon ridges.

  “It’s a sandstorm! We gotta land!” Scuff wailed.

  “No! Pin’s life depends on us. Everyone’s does.”

  Scuff ignored him. “Albie, is there any place we can sit out the storm?”

  “The storm will cross our flight path before we reach a colony. Recommend we shelter in the lee of Geryon Montes.”

  This was the mountainous curtain of rock to their north, cutting the Ius Chasma off from the neighbouring canyon.

  “Only till the storm passes,” Scuff implored.

  Their eyes met. Zeke’s burned with determination. The same determination that had brought him all the way to Mars.

  “Albie, whose voice do you obey?”

  “Yours, Master Zeke.”

  “Good. Ignore any command from Scuff and continue on course to the Noctis Labrynthis.”

  “You’ll kill us both, you nutcase.”

  Zeke glared at his best friend.

  “Trp yaa t-th,” he said darkly.

  “The same to you with ribbons,” Scuff retorted fiercely, and looked away.

  ~~~

  The sandstorm grew. With alarming
speed it reached across Mariners Valley, obscuring the sky. Invisible waves of turbulence reached ahead of the cloud front and buffeted the gyro. The boys bounced inside like peas in a rattle.

  “PLEASE LAND!” Scuff shrieked.

  “WE’LL RIDE IT OUT.”

  “WE WON’T!”

  The towering wall of dirt and dust bore down upon them. Zeke stared up at its shapeless crests, racing towards them like demon horses. His heart sank.

  “Um, maybe I made a—”

  Before he could finish the tsunami cloud struck. A cascading brown haze blotted out the daylight. A gale shook the gyro violently. Lightning flashed deep in the storm’s angry heart.

  “LAND, LAND, LAND!” Zeke shouted.

  He was too late. A bolt of electricity, generated by the friction of a trillion sand particles, licked the propeller. It exploded. The Admiral plummeted.

  “USE YOUR POWERS, ZEKE. LIKE THE SYCAMORE,” Scuff cried.

  Zeke was about to beg Scuff to use his. Then he remembered Isla had soaked Scuff with magnetism, temporarily erasing his psychic skills. Only Zeke could save them.

  A world of gusting sand howled outside. Everything was confusion. The seething chaos only distracted him. Zeke closed his eyes and took deep measured breaths. Old Flounder’s words echoed in his mind.

  Visualise and realise. Thought is the most powerful force in the Universe.

  Zeke pictured the falling craft. He imagined his hands surr-ounding the scorched fuselage and holding it tightly. His scalp tingled, as if energy was pouring from every pore. Their rate of descent began to slow. He’d done it!

  SMASH!!!

  They collided against an outcrop of rock, crumpling the gyro’s hull. It ricocheted away like a pinball.

  CRASH!

  They smacked into the ground at a shallow angle and kept rolling. Over and over and over. And then nothing.

  ~~~

  “Immediate evacuation recommended.”

  The blood-red mist cleared from Zeke’s sight. The Admiral had landed on its back. The console was suspended above him, spitting sparks.

 

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