Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1)

by John Corwin

  Having an entire door made of solid wood seemed incomprehensible. Max admired the tall round columns with their wide etched lines and square bases. He touched one and realized it was some sort of glossy stone veined with traces of brown and beige.

  "Ahem."

  Max flinched and turned to see an older gentleman in a black and white uniform standing in the doorway, looking at him expectantly. "Constable Max Planck here to see Governor Alderman," he said quickly.

  "He is in the back garden," the man said with well-oiled precision. "Please come inside and follow me."

  Max took a deep breath and steeled himself. This was his last chance to save Sarah.

  Chapter 4

  Max stepped inside and his eyes went wide. The entire floor was made of solid wood stained a deep brown. A portrait of a faintly smiling woman with long brown hair hung inside the small entrance room; beyond that, a sculpture of a naked man standing casually, one arm draped over his shoulder.

  "This is amazing!" He drew in the scent of foreign odors. Was it the smell of wood, cloth, or something else?

  "Sir, if you'll follow me out of the foyer, I'll take you to the back."

  "This room is called a foyer?" Max turned in a circle, taking it all in, then followed the servant. Most domiciles had a main room for cooking and eating, a bedroom, and a bathroom. As the constable, he had a kitchen separate from the den. This place had more rooms than he could name. It had its own hallways, stairs, and even an elevator. As they walked through the house, Max's wonder grew heavier until it sat like a stone in his stomach.

  What gave one man the right to all this? The administrators made strict rules for the civvies, and a completely different set for themselves. The conservation of limited resources was right near the top of the Constitution, and yet the leader himself openly flaunted the rule.

  The servant opened the back door and ushered Max onto a lush green lawn. On a plot of dark earth, red flowers grew on thorny green stems. Vines bearing round berries clung to a wooden frame across from them. Fruit-bearing trees and manicured shrubs ran the length of the huge yard.

  Terrence Alderman worked on his knees next to an apple tree. It was one of the few fruits in this place Max could actually put a name to.

  The servant stopped. "Sir, the constable is here."

  Alderman rose and turned around. Though his skin bore a few worry lines and traces of gray ran through his dark brown hair, the governor didn't look much older than his mid-forties. The man had been in this position even when Max's parents were young, and they'd been executed in their forties. That put Alderman at much higher an age than anyone else in City 7.

  "Thank you, Clarence." Alderman's voice was deep and rich—a voice that sounded naturally commanding.

  The servant nodded and walked back toward the house.

  "I hear you wanted to talk to me," Alderman said. He turned back to the tree and inspected the fruit. "Care for an apple?"

  The invitation to eat fruit straight from the tree was nearly too tempting to ignore, but Max wasn't here to enjoy fruit. He was here to save a life. "No thank you, sir."

  "Your sister loved these apples," the Governor said, using past tense as if she were already dead.

  His words stabbed like a dagger into Max's heart. "Sir, I'd like to respectfully request that you commute Sarah's sentence. I'm sure that whatever she did can be forgiven. She was off her meds and you know how that makes her act."

  Alderman grunted and turned toward another tree. He plucked the lone dark brown fruit from the end of a barren branch and looked at it. "Out of everything in this garden, this pear tree has been the most troublesome." He ran his fingers along the bare limb. "Look at this branch. Do you see what's wrong with it?"

  Max hid his annoyance at this change in subject. "It doesn't have any leaves." He looked at the rest of the tree. The other bell-shaped fruits were green or yellow. "The fruit is brown, maybe rotten."

  "Every so often, one of the branches on this tree dies." He leaned down and picked up a saw. "This branch is useless. It produces rotten fruit, if any, and if I don't prune it, it might kill the rest of the tree."

  "Sir, that's fascinating, but—"

  "One moment, son." Alderman cut the thin branch with a few swipes, then put it on the ground. He looked around. "I'll have this chipped and added to the rose bed. I think that'll look nice."

  Max bit the inside of his lip hard enough to taste blood. He wanted to interrupt this meaningless conversation, but without drawing the ire of the one man who could save his sister.

  Alderman picked up the branch and handed it to Max. "Better yet, I'll give this to you so you'll have something to think about."

  Max's forehead pinched with confusion. "What do you mean?"

  "This dome has served us well, Max, but everything in here is finely tuned and perfectly balanced." The governor picked up a hose and watered the base of the tree. "When you question the rule of law that's kept mankind from extinction for so long, you risk everything, son. One ripple in the order could cause chaos that brings everything to the ground." He turned off the hose and pointed to the branch. "One blighted branch could kill the whole tree."

  Max dropped the branch as if it were a snake. "Surely Sarah wasn't questioning your authority, sir. I promise she's not going to kill anything or anyone."

  "I can't tell you what she did, son, but I wouldn't have agreed to the classified execution if I thought it was reversible." He sighed and put a hand on Max's shoulder. "I take no pleasure in it, believe me."

  "What does Robb think about it?" Max's stomach twisted and knotted painfully. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  "Robb hates it, but he knows it has to be done."

  Tears clouded Max's vision. He wiped them away. "Please, sir, please. I'll do anything. Just let her live." His voice croaked with desperation.

  "Son, your sister is infected with the blight of treason." Alderman plucked a round red fruit from the vines behind him. "If I let her live, that blight will spread. It will kill all we've worked for, if allowed to remain." He popped the fruit in his mouth and chewed. "These grapes, on the other hand, have never failed me."

  Max didn't care about grapes or fruit tree analogies. His sorrow began to fester into rage. This son of a bitch had ordered the execution of his parents, and now Max was going to lose the last person he loved in this forsaken dome.

  "I know you're angry, son, but take comfort. After she was arrested, I ordered her eggs harvested. Even after she's gone, she'll have children with Robb." Alderman rubbed his thumb on the stump of the cut branch. "A fresh disease-free limb will be grafted back onto this tree. Hell, it might even bear different fruit."

  The saw looked sharp enough to cut deep into Alderman's throat. All Max had to do was pick it up and swing it hard. It would be suicide to kill the governor, but at this moment, Max had completely run out of concern. The thrum of blood drummed in his ears and the world narrowed to a single point.

  Alderman turned back toward the pear tree, almost as an invitation for Max to cut him down. But then he remembered the suit. If Sarah had done something warranting a classified execution, it meant she knew something Max didn't. Maybe she had a plan that would actually keep her alive. If he murdered the governor, he'd end up in the airlock with his sister, and that might wreck everything.

  The world refocused and the thrum of blood faded.

  Without even turning around, Alderman gave one last order. "Son, pick up the branch and take it with you. I want you to think long and hard about this conversation."

  Gritting his teeth, anger seething like a broken pipe in the brassworks, Max bent down and retrieved the branch. It would almost be worth dying to pounce on Alderman and club him to death with fists. Instead, he turned around and returned to the back door since a fence guarded the governor's garden sanctuary.

  A gangly man, all skin and bones motioned Max inside when he knocked at the door. Robb Alderman had his father's long nose, dark eyes, and hair, but
seemed unable to put on any bulk. Sarah had never been attracted to him, but you didn't turn down the governor's son when he chose you for his mate.

  "How is she?" Robb asked after he closed the door. His voice, high pitched and nasal, was the opposite of his father's.

  "Locked in the vault with a silencer on her throat." Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "How do you feel about the situation?"

  Robb beat the bottom of a fist against a wooden table. "She's mine." He hit the table again. "Mine!" He clenched his fists in impotent rage. "He won't listen to me at all. I tried explaining that Sarah does important work at the labs, too, but none of it matters."

  Max repressed a shudder, hearing this boy in a grown man's body talking about Sarah like she was property. If anything, it could work to an advantage. "Whatever she did must be awful for him to take away your mate."

  "He won't even tell me what she did," Robb replied. "She was working with the terraforming group, using gravitational equations for spore dispersion. Real simple stuff that's not even classified. It just doesn't make sense."

  "That's what's supposed to bring a breathable atmosphere to Mars, right?"

  He nodded. "She asked me for access to the gravitational charts about four weeks ago, so I sent her a copy of the file."

  Robb's timeline matched about the time Sarah started acting strange. The few times Robb had spoken with Max, he hadn't been talkative or even that pleasant, but Sarah's pending execution gave them a common cause Max might be able to exploit.

  "Was there anything unusual about the gravity charts?"

  "Gravitational." Robb rolled his eyes as if Max was an idiot. "I was over in Gavin Kearns's office waiting on him when I got Sarah's request." He shrugged. "Kearns had stepped out for a moment and left his workstation unlocked, so I transferred the file from there."

  If Terrence Alderman was the governor, Kearns was his lieutenant governor and the man who ran Science Division on a day-to-day basis. "Do you have the same level clearance as Kearns?" Max asked.

  Robb snorted. "Hell no." He backhanded the air. "Then again, that doesn't matter for low-level charts.

  "Anything else you can remember?"

  "Yeah, she wanted to go up to Overlook." Robb pursed his lips. "Access is restricted, of course, but my taking her up there wouldn't amount to treason."

  Max knew the next question might not go over well, but asked anyway. "Can you see out of the dome from there?"

  Robb didn't even pause. "Sure, you can see a big red blur if you stare long enough." He laughed. "Everyone thinks there must be something magnificent to see, but the solar cells buried in the transparent carbon cloud the view."

  If that was the case, why was it restricted?

  Robb leaned closer. "There's not another woman in under the dome I want more than Sarah, but even I can't save her." He beat his pitifully small fist against the table again and again and again. "What the fuck did she do to get herself in this mess? Stupid bitch."

  Max sucked in a breath before a growl erupted from his throat. He had no illusions Robb even looked at Sarah like a person. She was just an object to own—precious, perhaps, but replaceable. Restraining his growing hatred for this grown child, Max tried one last tactic. "She's definitely one of a kind, but hey, you can't have everything you want, I reckon."

  The words drew a sharp look from Robb. "Oh, I can." He pulled up his sleeve and looked at a priceless gold watch with a wireless communications interface. "I've got eight hours to change his mind."

  Max stared at the technological wonder on Robb's wrist. It was a testament to how spoiled he was. Lab coats were allowed mobile wireless, but even they couldn't take it off the science campus. Only Governor Alderman, Gavin Kearns, Investigator Simmons, and Lyle Babbage, the head of techworks, had free reign.

  "Good luck," Max said at last, uncertain what else he could do to motivate the spoiled brat.

  "Yeah, okay." Robb already seemed bored.

  The servant entered the room. "Sir Robb, your one o'clock is here."

  "Yeah? Great. Send her up to my bedroom." Robb nodded toward the door. "See the constable out."

  "Yes, sir." The servant motioned me out. "This way, please."

  Max followed the servant. A young girl dressed in the green work clothes of the farmlands looked up at him, wide-eyed and nervous. Max stopped and grabbed the servant. "Why are you taking her up to Robb's bedroom?"

  "Sir, that is none of your concern."

  Max looked at the girl. "What are you doing here?"

  "My parents told me to do whatever Robb Alderman says," she replied in a timid voice.

  "How old are you?"

  "Eighteen this month." She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

  "I suggest you leave," the servant said. "Otherwise, I'll be forced to call security."

  Max stared at the girl, but there wasn't anything he could do. She was past the age of consent, plus her parents sent her. Just one more thing the supposed lawman in the town was powerless to prevent. He directed a look of disgust at the servant then walked out of the house and to the road.

  A marshal in a beige security uniform waited outside. "I'll see you out of the gates." The man stood a good head taller than Max and had the muscles of a corn-fed cow wrangler or a mechworks welder. He wore a black blaster on his hip with an extended battery in the clip, and three spares on the belt.

  Max thought he knew all the marshals under the dome, but he didn't know this man. "Don't believe we've met," he said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm Constable Planck."

  "I know who you are," the big man said. "This way." He gripped Max's arm, but Max jerked it loose.

  All the repressed anger boiled over. "Touch me again and I'll break your fingers."

  The big man just stared at him. "This way." He motioned toward the gate.

  Max had failed Sarah and now there was nothing he could do but leave.

  Chapter 5

  Max walked around the circular road, the marshal right behind him. He saw children still playing in the swimming pool. Some of them even had inflatable toys. A house blocked the view for several steps then the blue liquid rippled back into view. There was more water in there than the weekly ration for a hundred people. Every bit of resource usage by the civvies was carefully monitored in a control room by the techworks.

  Luxville obviously didn't have rations.

  Max wondered if this marshal received any perks, or if he was just another cog in the machine who didn't care about anything unless it was his own sister on the chopping block. The gates opened and Max trudged the remaining distance down Founders Lane to Alderman Street, his mind lost in bitter thoughts.

  He was no different than the marshal. In his seven years as constable, he'd done what he was told to do, avoided asking too many questions, and kept his nose out of anything the lab coats told him to ignore. After feeding his parents to the father, he'd just stopped caring.

  "They did the crime, they pay the price," he told Scarlett every time she protested his decisions.

  His parents died for breaking the law, why should anyone else get a break? Why should he care? The part of him that cried out and felt sick every time he received the name of the next feeder grew quieter with every death. Only now, with his sister's life on the line, had it come fully awake again and finally, finally said, "Enough!"

  "Max, wait!"

  He spun around and saw Scarlett jogging to catch up with him.

  "Sorry, I didn't see you."

  "You can't see, and you can't hear." She wiped her face with a cloth. "Guess that makes you perfect for your job." She looked at his hand. "What's the branch for?"

  "A reminder of what I am."

  "Huh?" She wrinkled her nose. "You asked Alderman for a reprieve?"

  "Yeah." His throat went dry.

  "It's strange seeing you actually do your job." Scarlett took a drink from her canteen. "Remember Brad Cooper, the twenty year old kid they dropped in the grinder because he asked too many questions about
Overlook?"

  Max knew what was coming next and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Scarlett pushed on. "Just a stupid curious kid. You didn't even try to save him." She spat on the ground. "If I recall, you said something like, well, he's got two more brothers. Maybe they'll learn to keep their mouths shut."

  The memory was like another stake driven in his chest. So many stakes until the pain turned to numbness. Every night he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of the old, the young—all of them probably innocent, all of them just a twig to be pruned from the tree of life and ground into fertilizer. Every night he pushed away the ghosts until he found the black oblivion he wanted. His soul had withered and died from abuse and neglect.

  Sarah's pending execution had ripped his soul from the afterlife, dragging it kicking and screaming like a wounded beast back to this sad world. "Remind me all you want, Scarlett. This is the most pain I've felt since putting Mom and Dad out the airlock. Considering what I've done since then, I reckon I deserve it."

  Scarlett's cheeks went red. "Well, you reckon right, Max!" She shoved him hard in the chest. "Don't you dare stop feeling the pain, you son of a bitch!"

  Max grabbed her wrists and squeezed. "Maybe you just feel too damned much to keep a clear head, Scarlett, but don't you worry a bit. This pain keeps me going. It's gonna see me through to one end or another. If I feed, if you become the constable, you remember what you told me, Deputy Scarlett Flynn. You go up against Governor Alderman and Administrator Barnes and all the lab coats. You ask them for justice. They'll give it to you along with a platter of red sand and a feeding suit."

  "Let go!" Scarlett tugged her wrists until Max released them. She rubbed them and glared at him. Finally, her eyes softened. "I might like seeing you feed, but not your sister. She isn't a lab coat, not at heart. I know what Robb is like, that degenerate little goat."

  "That's treason you're talking," Max warned.