The Birth of a Rebellion

by Adam Sipperly

  “The subterranean river,” Flupotia mumbled and Do-lar jumped back, knocking the table behind her to the floor with a loud clang.

  “What in the Gods names?!”

  “It runs along the southern wall.”

  “Fl… Flupotia?” Do-lar slowly stepped forward and noticed that Flupotia was still as motionless as she could be.

  “The soil is fertile, your sun lights advanced. With the water, you can grow food quickly.” Only her lips moved.

  “I’m going to get the doctor…” Do-lar ran out of the room to fetch Dr. Jont, perplexed and more than a little afraid.

  ◆◆◆

  Agent 3527AS wasn’t feeling too great. As punishment for letting Patrick escape, he had been tasked with joining a small team down the tunnel to the chamber of the snakes. This wasn’t what he signed up for and he had quite literally been shaking in fear as they made the trek down.

  “Enough!” Agent 0032ZL shouted.

  In one swift motion, the Agent whipped his gun up at the Snake closest to him and fired off an explosive blast. The chamber echoed with the sound of the blast and the wailing hisses of the sole remaining Snake who coiled up quickly to catch his fallen sibling.

  “Why have you done thissss!”

  “You forget your place, snake.” The Agent had already tucked his gun back in its holster and was walking back to base. The rest of the Agents hurried to keep up.

  “Sir, was that wise?” Agent 3527AS dared to ask.

  “You question my actions? We’re in this mess because of you!” Agent 0032ZL stopped abruptly and landed his fist on the side of the other alien’s face. “Don’t you dare question me.”

  “Yes, sir.” He hung his head, defeated.

  As the rest of the team followed Agent 0032ZL, Agent 3527AS stood behind and looked back to the chamber with the remaining snake. That kid managed to not only get past the snakes but killed two in the process. He trembled with fear. If he gets his hands on the orb, there will be no stopping him. He pushed the thoughts from his head and turned to run up the tunnel and rejoin the other aliens.

  ◆◆◆

  The heat was really starting to impact Patrick. With each step, it felt as if his body was going up in larger flames. He was quite honestly shocked that his clothes hadn’t spontaneously erupted yet. Both Patrick and Gin-us believed the heat was playing tricks on their minds, the flames now appearing to follow them. Patrick shook his head and wiped the sweat from it, not knowing how much longer he could manage to go on like this.

  “I have to say,” Gin-us cut into the silence, “the heat is probably the biggest danger down here. It’s even starting to get to me. I swear I’m seeing things. The walls keep moving.”

  “You’re seeing things, too? I could swear I keep seeing little men poking out from behind the rocks.”

  Gin-us stopped, placing a hand on Patrick's shoulder as he looked around them, “Stay alert,” he warned, “maybe we aren’t seeing things.”

  They continued on in silence yet again, but this time both on high alert. This new fear of the unknown still wasn’t enough to keep Patrick from fading in and out. He was constantly blacking out, not remembering the past few yards he had traveled. He was yelling in his head to stay awake, but it didn’t stop his vision from blurring. Gin-us wasn’t fairing much better. He was still alert, but his vision was fuzzy and he was having a hard time making out specific lines in the space around them. Everything seemed to blur into one. But there was definitely something moving around in the blur, a flame, jumping from rock to rock. Gin-us was sure of it, despite his declining vision. Patrick was the first to pick out the small man made from fire, who had finally worked up the courage to walk beside him.

  At first, Patrick played it off in his own mind as a mirage, a manifestation of the Jaguars warning. It wasn’t until Gin-us noticed the small man as well and bumped his shoulder into Patrick’s, nodding his head at the ground. The two made eye contact, realizing simultaneously they were no longer seeing things that weren’t there. The little man made of fire was actually there, walking with them as if they had always been together. They both stopped in their tracks in a state of shock, staring at this new creature, waiting to see if he was a threat.

  The small man looked back and forth from Patrick to Gin-us and finally stretched out a small hand. “Hello there! I was wondering when you would notice me walking with you. The name is Flee!” His smile spread from one ear, if you could call it that, to the other.

  The small man reached Patrick's kneecap in height and had a bright, cheerful face. Although bright was an interesting way to put it, considering he was quite literally on fire. Despite this small stature, the man of fire stood with confidence and left his hand hanging between them.

  “Hello, Flee,” Gin-us spoke first, using a firm but also warm and friendly tone. “My name is Gin-us, and this is Patrick.” Gin-us motioned to Patrick.

  Flee’s smile flashed even brighter and larger. “Nice to meet you both! Not the handshaking type then, huh?” He made a sort of laughing noise as he finally dropped his outstretched arm back to his side. “No matter! Don’t you just love the weather we’re getting down here? Gorgeous heat year-round, never cold. Why would anyone want it to be cold? Heat is the very best thing in the whole universe!” Flee rattled on, his eyes shifting rapidly from Gin-us to Patrick with each sentence.

  Gin-us interjected in the quick moment Flee stopped to take a breath. “I can’t say we love this heat as much as you do.”

  Flee stood there, tapping his foot on the ground, studying both Patrick and Gin-us. “No, it would appear not. You and your friend do not appear to be well.”

  “We are not well. The heat is hurting the both of us, my friend more than I. It’s making us both quite sick.”

  “That is far too bad a thing for you. It only gets hotter the deeper you travel, there is no relief for either of you in sight! Say… what brings you two Martians down here anyway?” Flee’s face scrunched up in confusion as if he just realized this was no place for outsiders.

  “We are on a mission. Patrick here is actually a human. He is trying to retrieve an orb from the center of this planet. He has plans to free his world and all the others in the skies from an evil king who wishes to rule over it all.”

  Flee contemplated this for a few moments, remaining silent. Patrick was in shock over the conversation he was watching unfold. At first, it seemed wise to let Gin-us take the lead. He knew of the men of fire and Patrick had no idea how to handle them. But for Gin-us to just reveal their master plan to this stranger? It was preposterous in Patrick's mind. There was no telling whose side Flee was on, or how many others like him were hiding in the rocks around him.

  “I know the orb of which you speak,” Flee hesitated for a moment as if trying to judge their character based on the short interaction they’d had. “This orb, it isn’t at the center of the planet.”

  “What?!” Patrick blurted out, now fully alert. His shouting startled both Gin-us and Flee, who looked shocked that Patrick had even spoken.

  “Well, yes. The good news though, I can point you in the right direction! There was a turn off back the way you came, and that’s the way you want to go.”

  “That’s a solid half a day’s walk,” Gin-us stated plainly.

  Patrick sighed, deeply annoyed. They were on a race against the clock to save basically everyone, and they had taken a wrong turn. But had they? Gin-us had mentioned a rough past with the Firemen.

  Patrick wondered aloud, “How do we know we can even trust this guy?”

  “Well, I can’t speak to you trusting a stranger, but that is definitely the way you need to go,” Flee responded, “I’m sorry to say it.” Patrick noted that he didn’t sound sorry. “I can take you back and make sure you make it though! But I can only go so far, if I travel to far into the cold lands, my flame might be put out. Not deadly, I assure you, but most painful.”

  Patrick turned to Gin-us, blocking Flee’s line of vision. Even in this h
ellishly warm atmosphere, Patrick could still feel the heat of Flee on the backs of his legs. “Gin-us, how do we know he’s telling the truth? We really don’t have any time to waste…”

  Gin-us considered this for a brief moment. “I’ve told you of my unfortunate interactions with the Firemen in the past. There are also Icemen back on Mars. Now they are known to be most helpful and true through and through. These are strange times, however, and there is something different about Flee. I believe we can trust what he says, but we have to move now.”

  Flee piped up as Patrick turned back around. “When we get too far for me to go on any further, I can have one of my Ice buddies bring you the rest of the way. If you’d like!”

  What are the Icemen doing down here too? Gin-us thought to himself.

  “It would be greatly appreciated,” Patrick replied. If Gin-us knows and trust the Icemen, then so do I. Hopefully they can provide us a true path forward.

  “Well then, follow me!” Flee skipped off ahead, humming a cheerful tune.

  ◆◆◆

  “You did what?!”

  Agent 0032ZL stood before the General in the stark white room. He stared out to the jungle, praying his fate did not send him there.

  “What on this or any other planet compelled you to kill one of the guardians?!”

  “Sir, they failed to protect the orb.”

  “True. And now, thanks to you, they may fail to protect us if Patrick returns!”

  Agent 0032ZL finally understood the ramifications of his actions. “Sir, I do not believe the human will make it to the orb.”

  “Never say never, Agent. Do you not remember what happened after Jupiter?”

  “No, sir. I remember. But the defenses we had in place were weak. The orb may as well have been handed to the Jaguar.”

  “Do you realize what a fool you’ve been? Leave now, while I figure out what to do with you.”

  Agent 0032ZL saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out of the room. The General sat down at the table and dropped his head to his hands. The whole situation had taken a drastic turn. How Patrick had managed to not only escape, but get past the snakes, was a complete mystery.

  “We need leverage, an insurance policy,” he was speaking to nobody, the room around him empty. “He still has family up here. Humans, they let their emotions guide them. We’ll use that against him.”

  He stood from the table and walked to the intercom at the far end of the room.

  “Send in Agent 0032ZL, I have a new assignment for him.”

  “Yes, sir,” the voice crackled over the radio in response.

  Yes, I can still manage this. The General pulled at his collar, suddenly hot. We still have time, there’s no need to panic.

  ◆◆◆

  The new party of three spent the half day walking back the way they had come, with Flee leading the way. This walk was very unlike the walk down, Flee constantly talking. Each time he stopped to take in a breath, Patrick would hold his hoping that Flee had finally finished. Without fail he would continue on each time. Patrick had thought the heat was going to drive him crazy but never imagined this little ball of heat would take his insanity to new levels. Even tuning Flee out was near impossible, his fast-paced speech the only distraction from the heat.

  Flee told stories about his family, his friends, his job and even his King. Patrick and Gin-us learned quite a lot about Flee and his people. Flee had a wife named Flan whom he had two children with. A daughter, Gran, and a son Flee Junior. He had three very good friends named Flint, Match, and Sniff who he played some card game with once a week. Their King’s name was Lord Fire. How original, Patrick thought. Lord Fire ruled from the area they were currently in, all the way down to the Earth’s core.

  He wasn’t surprised to find out that Gin-us and himself hadn’t even broken through the first layer of the Earth’s crust. Flee almost laughed at them when they told him they thought the orb was deeper down, “how ridiculous,” he had said, “that the aliens would put their main power source in a place even they couldn’t reach?” Patrick felt foolish like he should have picked up on that fact. Flee didn’t harp on it though, much to Patrick's appreciation. Flee quickly moved on to talking about work, he was a blacksmith in his village, which surprisingly were scarce. He talked on and on about his work, something he truly loved. Especially working with the new metals they had found on Earth.

  As Patrick became wrapped up in Flee’s stories, he hadn’t noticed the heat slowly dying around them, hadn’t noticed the flame Flee was emanating get a little dimer, hadn’t noticed that he could breathe easier again, hadn’t noticed the sweat pouring off of him had slowed. All of these things went unnoticed until Flee stopped suddenly and Patrick bumped into him, jumping back more out of shock than pain. Odd, he thought, no burns.

  “Sorry, but this is where I leave you.”

  Gin-us went to shake Flee’s hand but stopped realizing this probably wasn’t the best idea. “Thanks for taking us this far. You mentioned your ice friend; where can we find him?”

  “We can shake hands.” Flee smiled to Gin-us as he held his hand out.

  Gin-us reached out carefully and shook his hand, the sensation of climbing into a warm bed consuming his body. “My friend, his name is Frize. He’ll be able to take you both the rest of the way. It’s a few more miles west of here until you get to their small village. I do believe at the time you get there will be the middle of their day, so, unfortunately, there is going to be a lot of Icemen walking around. Most of them are hostile to outsiders, so please be careful. If you can hold off until night, then I would. And make sure you tell Frize I sent you.”

  “We will. Again, thank you for all of your help.” Patrick reached his hand out to shake Flee’s, no longer worried about being burnt.

  “Well, it’s not a problem at all! Last bit of advice, if you can’t wait to get to Frize, just ignore the Icemen in the streets and they might leave you alone. Once you’re in town, take the second left. Third house down, just walk right in. There will be a staircase to the left you need to take. Two flights up and down the hall, last door on the left! Good?”

  “Think I got it. Second left, third house, three flights.” Flee held up his hand. “Nope two flights, and last door on the left. Correct?” Patrick hoped Gin-us had it down too because he had never been particularly good at recalling directions.

  “You got it. I guess this is goodbye for now, then.”

  “We hope to see you again sometime soon, perhaps on our return journey.”

  “As do I. Good luck!”

  Patrick and Gin-us left Flee behind to continue on their journey, hopefully in the right direction this time. The air around them wasn’t nearly as hot anymore, although the heat was still present on their skin. It had left a slight stinging sensation as if a Band-Aid had just been ripped off. All Patrick was left with now were thoughts of Flee and the Firemen, wondering if Flee was a true representation of them all. On the flip side, he hoped the Icemen weren’t the Ying to his Yang.

  “I think it would be wise to rest before we head into the village,” Gin-us said as he stopped. “If we rest for a few hours, we should approach the village while most of the Icemen sleep.”

  “But didn’t you say you knew the Icemen? That they were the friendlier of the two species? Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “As I said, something is different here. Flee, the things he said. I worry just walking into town could be a tragic error.”

  “You’re probably right. And to be honest, I’m absolutely exhausted.”

  “I’ll get the tent set up for us.” Gin-us began to rummage around in his backpack.

  In mere moments, Gin-us had a giant tent set up and disappeared inside. Patrick stood outside, wondering for a few moments if he was to follow. He didn’t wait long though, his body eager to finally rest. The technology of the Martians was just as incredible as the aliens. Inside the tent, there were two built-in cots swinging out from the sides. Both cots were fully mad
e with sheets and a pillow, and Patrick's body ached to lie down at the mere sight of it. The temperature inside the tent was near perfect as well, the heat evaporating rapidly from their skin. Gin-us was already lying in his cot, eyes closed, and Patrick jumped into the cot adjacent to him. A feeling of happiness and calm surrounded him, a welcome distraction from his racing thoughts. With the safety of the shelter around him, Patrick didn’t have to wait more than a few seconds before he was out cold.

  ◆◆◆

  Waking up hours later, Patrick felt more rested than he had since well before starting high school. The thought of waking up for school and worrying about being late felt like it was a different life. Gin-us was still sound asleep, mumbling something about the Firemen. Patrick sat up as he checked the time, 12:47. His watch was analog, a prized possession he had inherited from his grandfather. Given that it was an old watch, and there was currently no sun to track by, Patrick had no idea if it was AM or PM. He ran some quick calculations in his head, figuring out they had been asleep for either nine or twenty-one hours. Sure feels like I slept for twenty-one hours, but there’s no way. Right? Patrick jumped from his cot, sure that it was now the middle of the night.

  “Gin-us,” Patrick gave his cot a small push, “it’s time for us to get up.”

  Gin-us’ eyes opened suddenly with a scarred look that faded when he realized where he was. “That was a good rest,” he said, getting up, pretending as if he hadn’t just mentally gone someplace else. “What time is it?”

  “Close to 1:00 now, your guess is as good as mine for AM or PM.”

  “Let’s hope AM, and that the town is asleep.”

  Does time work the same down here?

  “We should eat something quick, and then let’s keep moving. We’ve already wasted too much time.”

  They both ate quickly from the food in their packs and Gin-us took the tent down as quickly as it had gone up. There was a dusting of snow on the ground outside the tent, a fact that struck Patrick as odd, snow falling beneath the Earth’s surface. While this was a welcome change in temperature for Patrick, he still shivered and pulled out a sweater and pants the Martians had provided him. The Martians’ technology was fascinating. As soon as he slid the extra layer on it was as if his body was surrounded by warmth – the clothes seeming to emanate heat themselves.