The Mendelssohnian Theory: Action Adventure, Sci-Fi, Apocalyptic ,Y/A

by Toker, Dor

  Elizabeth quickly transferred her eyes to tactical mode and webwired the inner communication center in her implant. A deluge of news bulletins and messages flooded her eye-screens. She screened all messages other than Dmitry’s and opened it. “You’ve trained him well,” the brief message said. Elizabeth established a connection to Dmitry in a secure space line (safeguarded space link) and the image of the space smuggler gang leader appeared immediately. “Is he all right?” she hurried to ask and Dmitry laughed.

  “Hello to you too,” he said, “yes. He’s fine considering the fact he hasn’t eaten almost anything in the past two weeks and struggled to adjust to his different body weight on Mars.”

  “Can you keep him safe?”

  “That depends,” said the smuggler, “if he draws fire to him, it won’t be good for my business, you know how we like to keep a low profile.”

  “I’ll see to it that no one will know you have him,” said Elizabeth.

  “You know it’s not easy with us,” Dmitry warned her, “we don’t offer any free meals. Those who can’t carry their weight get thrown away.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth said, “and I’m not asking you to give him any free meals. You’ll see,” she added, “he’ll surprise you with his Durability.”

  “It’s been a long time since anyone’s been able to surprise me,” Dmitry laughed, “and what do I get in return?”

  Elizabeth was prepared for that. That was the smuggler’s first and foremost rule – scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. “A fully equipped landing area, hidden in an Australian base, for a full year,” she said and Dmitry nodded appreciatively.

  “He must mean a lot to you.”

  “That’s right,” answered Elizabeth, “he’ll mean a lot to you too.”

  “We’ll see about that, Elizabeth,” said the smuggler, “always a pleasure doing business with you,” and with that, he disappeared from the eye screen. Elizabeth leaned back and for the first time in days, allowed herself to relax. Adam was alive and with him; hope for the human race was still alive as well. She allowed herself another moment of tranquility on her bed before she sent Joseph an inner-text message. “He’s alive,” Elizabeth wrote with the aid of the ancient technology they used so as not to be discovered by the corporation’s cutting edge technological means, “we need to create a camouflage diversion.” The answer immediately arrived from Joseph as a brief text message in the shape of a smiling, yellow little face.

  During the next few weeks, contradicting technological traces regarding Adam’s whereabouts were found, on Europa and on Earth, in Siberia, in Old Brasilia, Quebec, New Manila and next to Washington DC. Joseph and his team of technicians had done their job, and Elizabeth felt, for the first time in a long, long time, that they just might have a chance.

  Chapter 21

  Adam sat in the locked and sealed technicians’ room and waited. The door was locked behind him as soon as the two men who’d caught him on Asimov Street, the longest street in the Odyssey American Space Base, admitted him there. He had surprised them when he lifted his head from among the shadows, while they went out a side window, carrying the equipment they had stolen from the nearby office. They stormed him and took a hold of him. If he hadn’t been so weakened by starvation, he wouldn’t have allowed them to capture him, but two weeks of foraging for food in trash cans and sleepless nights, have taken their toll, and in spite of his resistance and struggle, he was captured and bound by the two thieves and their assistants. Actually, he didn’t really care about being captured. Once, he thought he’d be able to run forever. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Ever since the space shuttle explosion, he’d been busy with surviving, but now he couldn’t think of a good reason to keep on running.

  *

  The small evacuation vehicle in which he’d managed to escape the damaged spacecraft landed on a secluded part of Mars, far from any human settlement. He remained seated in the pilot seat long after the engine of the small hovercraft had died. The reality of his life struck him and discouraged him. He placed his head on the control panel in front of him and shut his eyes, filled with emptiness. If until now, there was always someone who had followed him, had taken care of him, had kept him safe from afar all the time in which he was being chased, now he remained alone, in a new world, removed from anything he had ever known, without refuge or any definite purpose. He found it difficult to believe anyone would continue to search for him after the shuttle explosion; he assumed no one would find him in the Martian wilderness that surrounded him in every direction. Where could he go? How will he survive? What was even the point? He asked himself, but could find no answer within him. He began to feel a prickling sensation in his eyes and realized these were tears, his own. His sobs intensified, and the tears trickled down his face and on the dashboard, which supported his head. He heard a shrill cry, and it took a moment for him to realize it was the sound of his own screams. Fear of the future rolled itself into a ball in his diaphragm, connected with the pain over the death of Jewel, a pain that he finally allowed himself to feel, a pain that went out into the air with a maddened, aggressive scream. He will never allow such a moment to return, will never allow himself to be in such a situation again, and never allow others to harm him without putting up a fight. A white light suddenly blinked at the bottom of his eye-screens, diverted his attention and repressed the pain and anger. This wasn’t the time to be idle. He opened the screen, and a map appeared in front of his eyes, showing his location and indicating the nearest military bases on Mars. A space suit was hung on a hook next to the hovercraft door, and he hurried to wear and adjust it, before leaving the hovercraft into the great Martian wilderness. He chose a course leading to the nearest base. There, he thought, he will try to survive and wait to see what will transpire. There was no point in trying to make any plans beyond that, if he’d learned anything from the moment the chase had begun, it was to expect nothing and everything at the same time. There will always be surprises, and he will only survive if he will react to them quickly.

  Adam quickly adjusted to the planet’s low gravity. He advances with high, long leaps toward the nearest American stronghold. According to the map in his eye-screens, his destination was about three thousand Earthly miles away. He hoped the suit would last till he gets there; that was his only chance of surviving. In time, he learned to balance himself in the thin air, and once he had mastered the technique, his leaps and bounds became so wide, he actually managed to hover above the ground and inspect his surroundings. That was how he discovered the coming metallic sandstorm, which quickly advanced toward him. He stopped for a moment, knowing unless he will immediately find shelter, the storm will carry him away with it, and that will probably spell his death. He lunged into the air a few times while turning around and examining the lay of the land. His eye sensors discovered a half-hidden crevice down one of the hills, about a mile and a half from where he was standing. He doubted whether the crevice was wide enough to accommodate his body but had no time to seek a better shelter. Aware of the fact the storm was drawing nearer, about to catch up to him, Adam felt its strength shoving the atmosphere around him, felt the wind blowing sand clouds that threatened to blind his way. He’d nearly reached the crevice, had almost jumped into the narrow opening, had almost held a hand to grab its walls, when a gust of thick and sticky wind snatched him from the ground and carried him with it. The storm whirled him, tossed him from side to side and quickly carried him away from the escape hovercraft’s landing place. Splinters of metallic rocks bumped against his body, the grating sound of sand gusts hurt his ears and threatened to injure them. He could only raise his knees to his chest and protect his head with his hands. Adam felt as if his senses were bombarded with information. The noise, the light, the sensation of contact, he could nearly feel, through the sealed protective mask that covered his head, the taste of the dust that closed on him from every direction. He tried to straighten himself and discovered that he was able to navigate and maintain his
stability with the aid of swimming motions while being pushed by the strong wind. He balanced himself and hovered on the sandstorm, then directed himself above it and actually managed to ride its back. Heavenly starts were spread in front of his eyes, below him stretched a black and gray abyss. At least up there, above the storm, it was quieter and balancing his body had become easier. For a moment, he felt as on top of the world and was literally there. It filled his heart with thrill and glory, ‘I’m Invincible’, he almost shouted.

  He had no idea how long he’d hovered like that, while maintaining his equilibrium, gliding on the back of the wind like a rider in a rodeo ring, but he eventually got tired and lost his concentration. In a single moment in which he’d lost his attention, he lost his balance and swirled in the air. His head bumped against his knees, and a stone immediately hit his back and whirled him round and round. Darkness engulfed him, and he slipped from the back of the beast into the heart of the crushing tempest.

  When he woke up, his ears hurt, and his mouth was dry and itching. Another moment had passed before he realized the pain in his ears was due to the absence of the rumbling sound of the storm. In the pale light that snuck its way through the haze it had left in its wake, he examined the terrain around him. The storm had cast him on the slope of a tall hill, beneath which lay a wide and shallow valley, strewn with large rock formations whose color was paler than that of the earth they were embedded in. Adam wondered whether the storm had brought the rocks as well and whether the storm he’d ridden was the most powerful Mars had to offer. His body was aching, but he began to sense a comforting itch that indicated his body’s biological nanoparticles were vigorously busy with healing and mending his body. He was about to stand up, when a small ground hovercraft passed him by, less than thirty feet away. Adam hurried to hide and lay still while the hovercraft surrounded the area in which he lay, probably seeking what had activated the motion sensors on the driver’s monitor. The pilot must have thought nothing living could be there and following a short circle around the area, abandoned his searches and the hovercraft continued on its way, gliding slowly, carefully passing between the rock formations. Adam waited till hovercraft disappeared and then, thanking the pilot’s rational thinking that’d caused him to fly away, rose and examined his aching body once more. In spite of being battered by flying rocks, he was happy to discover not a bone in his body had been broken. His protective suit was quite damaged, but still sixty percent functional and Adam knew he had no choice but settle for that.

  Adam was certain that the fact the hovercraft had appeared in the area indicated the proximity of a human settlement, as if it was a seagull and he was piloting an ancient sailboat. He began to follow it, first with small and hesitated footsteps, but the more he advanced, the more he accelerated his gait, until he was leaping from place to place, just as he’d done before the storm had grabbed him. He passed through the rocks. From up close they seemed even vaster, each one more than sixty feet wide and thirty feet high. His leaps had brought him to the edge of the valley, where the largest rock lay. Adam circled it on foot while regaining his breath and relaxing his muscles. He counted a hundred and seven steps from one side of the rock to the other, and then leaped up the giant chunk of stone. His leap brought him halfway up the rock, and there he found foot and hand holds. He continued to climb the rock until he stood on its very top and viewed his surroundings. In front of him, in the distance, which he measured with the aid of his brain implant, about two miles from where he was standing, he identified the mining base the hovercraft must have been headed to. He sat on the edge of the rock, feet dangling in the thin Martial air, and stared at his destination with tired disinterest. It was the first time in a long time he actually relaxed his muscles and allowed his mind to settle down. His tiredness threatened to overcome him, and he permitted himself to rest. Lights began to blink on his eye-screens, announcing that the functionality of his suit had been damaged and he should quickly reach an Earthly atmosphere bubble (Human Atmosphere Bubble ©), such as the one entrapping the mining base in front of him. He sighed and began to carefully descend from the vast lump of stone. Once his feet had reached the ground, he headed toward the human base, without a shred of an idea how he will infiltrate it without being revealed and arrested as a trespasser and an escaped criminal.

  *

  The door of the technicians’ room opened, and Adam lifted his eyes to see who was entering. To his surprise, he couldn’t see anyone. He rose to his feet and approached the opening, then, after a moment, he stepped outside hesitatingly. He found himself in a narrow and winding corridor, which reminded him of the giant space shuttle’s corridors. “Move along,” a voice commanded him, “second door to the left.” He tried to understand where the voice was coming from and when he’d failed, obeyed the instruction and entered through the door.

  In the bluish light, which illuminated the room, Adam discovered a standard desk with a single chair in front of it. The rest of the room was devoid of any furniture, other than a pixelated wall painting depicting Earthly views. He could not associate the view in the painting with any place he was familiar with, but the forested mountains in the painting reminded him of an old picture. Way back then, before his world had shattered forever, a similar picture was hung on the wall of Michael Krupnick’s office, the manager of the high school he’d learned in, not too long ago, in the Jewish reservation. The bluish light did not evenly illuminate the entire room and from one of its darkened corners, a tall and skinny man emerged into the light. To Adam’s eyes, he appeared much like Joseph, other that the fact the man in front of him was beardless and Joseph did not have so many scars on his face. The man instructed Adam to sit down with a gesture that indicated he was accustomed to being immediately obeyed. Adam sat in the white chair in a seemingly relaxed posture, but inside was tense and ready to spring through the door that remained open. “My men tell me you’ve interrupted their work,” the man said, “at least the one who can still talk, the other one needs a facial reconstruction after the ‘treatment’ you’ve given him.”

  “He shouldn’t have attacked me,” Adam attempted to justify his actions.

  “You were in the wrong place and saw things you weren’t supposed to see,” said the tall man and a thin smile stretched the scars on his face. He examined the youth in front of him once more, knowing even professional soldiers tried to avoid confrontations with his men. Yet this tot had struggled with them unarmed. If two additional men hadn’t been called to help and threatened him with their weapons, he might have even escaped. The youth’s emaciated and tired visage and tattered appearance hid a large, mysterious question mark. The drastic shift from indifference to savageness that’d showed itself in his struggle with his men piqued the interest of the scarred man.

  “I’m Dmitry,” he said, “Dmitry Bialystok.”

  The youth nodded with incidental politeness. “What do you want from me?” he asked.

  “To give you a greeting from far away,” answered Dmitry.

  “A greeting?” the youth seemed confused and it appeared to Dmitry that a crack had opened in the mask of indifference covering his face.

  “From someone who must really love you and care about you,” said Dmitry, and when the youth did not respond, he added, “Elizabeth asked me to keep you safe if I found you alive.”

  “Really?” asked Adam, a marked suspiciousness in his voice, “and why should I believe you?”

  “You don’t have to,” answered Dmitry, “as far as I’m concerned, you can get back to the same hole we’ve found you in and keep on foraging the recycled trash cans for spoiled food and hide from the police, the corporation and everybody else. On the other hand, I can offer you food and shelter. Clean clothes as well.” Adam stole a glance to his worn suit, then raised his eyes and met Bialystok’s steady gaze.

  “And what’s the price?” he asked, dressing his voice with a chill.

  “The price is that you’ll need to work with me,” answered Dmitr
y Bialystok, “if you’re as talented as Elizabeth says you are, you may come in handy.”

  “I don’t belong to you or to anyone else,” said Adam.

  “I demand discipline,” Dmitry continued as if he hadn’t heard Adam, “and loyalty. With me, people do as they are told without asking any questions. Consider whether you’re capable of doing this and weigh your alternatives. Remember that with me, no one has any special privileges, and there’s no such thing as ‘special’ or ‘the one’ and that’s the last I’ll say on the subject.” Dmitry turned around and left the small room, and Adam had a feeling of déjà vu. Dmitry was trying to recruit him in the exact same way in which Elizabeth had tried to recruit him almost a year ago. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice and did not need to do a lot of thinking to realize if he wanted to survive, he had to join Dmitry. He went out and wondered where he should turn to in order to meet the man again, when a voice called from down the corridor: “Well? Have you made up your mind?” Adam approached the voice. Dmitry was leaning on the corridor wall, sucking a false cigarette (False Cigarette ©).

  “I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to?”

  “Yes,” Dmitry answered, “but only once you’ve finished working six Martial months for me. Then you’d be free to leave, if that’s what you’ll choose to do.”