Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1)

by John Corwin

  "Arranging accidents is a lot of work," Simmons said. "We kill off that many steamworks personnel and we'll have issues finding qualified replacements."

  "We need to move Dominic Barnes from his new position to something else." Alderman bit his lip. "He'll do nothing but inflame the population if we leave him there."

  "I think he'll just drink himself to death if we let him." Simmons shrugged. "Might be easiest. From what I understand he hasn't done much but visit the saloon."

  "Accident or wait?"

  That didn't take much thought. "Wait. We'll have enough accidents on our hands with the insurgents."

  "On the other hand, we could sweeten the deal. Add favorable variables and maybe they'd stop thinking about revolt."

  "Yeah, well, you could try." Simmons scratched his chin. "With Britain and Barnes gone, who's the next population regulation expert?"

  "I don't know yet. If Richard trained anyone, he didn't tell me." Alderman frowned. "We might have to wing it."

  Simmons chuckled. "I don't think the founders would like to hear that."

  "Yeah, well I don't either." He narrowed his eyes. "One of our own tried to fuck us, Oswald. If you decide to go crazy, let me know in advance, okay?"

  "We're already crazy," Simmons replied. "We just haven't admitted it yet."

  Alderman pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe so. We need a conference. Get Babbage out of his damned lab. I'll call Kearns. We've already had six failures. I don't want a seventh."

  "Lucky number seven." Simmons flicked off the call. He briefly wondered what the founders would think of City 7 right now. Were they any closer to that perfect goal, or as far away as ever?

  He sure as shit didn't know. Something burned deep in his blood as he considered the road ahead. For the first time in ages he felt alive. That girl, Flynn, had disrupted the entire system with no small help from Barnes. It had been forever since he'd last felt the call of chaos tugging on his insides.

  "Humanity, Flynn?" he said aloud. "Who needs humanity when you can be a god?" Simmons burst into laughter.

  It was going to be an interesting day.

  Chapter 20

  One Day Ago

  darkness and pain. Darkness and Pain. DARKNESS AND PAIN.

  Max shouted and flailed. A cloud of red dust drifted around him. His head ached so badly he could barely open his eyes. A cry of agony tore from his throat.

  Wait a minute—I'm in pain?

  He broke off in mid-scream and tried to understand how he was still alive and breathing. The skin near his jaw felt as if it were on fire. Max gripped the mask protecting him from the cold vacuum. It was slightly askew. The seal must have broken when he fell, releasing carbon dioxide, and letting the air from the micro-breather take its place.

  Just an instant of vacuum had done something awful to the skin on his jaw. Then again, it was nothing compared to what would have happened if the mask came off. He saw another form lying in a heap nearby.

  Sarah!

  Max scrambled over to her and rolled her onto her back. She wasn't breathing—she hadn't been since his first footstep on the dune. How long had he been unconscious? It couldn't have been long or he'd be dead. The awful headache building right now meant he was slowly poisoning himself to death with his own exhalations.

  He almost didn't dare look into the blackness, afraid that what he'd seen hadn't been real. But the silver doors were there. If it was another airlock, he might save his sister.

  Max grabbed Sarah beneath her armpits and dragged her to the door. He felt around on the door but saw no way to open it. His gloved hands found a box on the side of the door, the black metal barely visible in the poor light. If there was a latch, he couldn't find it. His fingers gripped an edge where a cover fit over the box.

  It wasn't much, but he gave it everything he had. Groaning with exertion, a hammer pounding his head, Max jerked and tugged until he felt like passing out again. The metal bent just a little, but unless he vented the gasses in his mask, he'd die in short order. That meant lifting the mask long enough to let the carbon dioxide escape. Die of asphyxiation or die of vacuum exposure—he'd rather try and die.

  Max lifted the mask a fraction. Air exploded from his mouth and he felt as if he were about to turn inside out. Somehow, he clamped the mask back down and sucked in a harsh breath. It felt as though his lungs had nearly collapsed even in that brief moment of exposure. Still, it hadn't been instant death as he'd feared.

  Salt stung his eyes as he looked down at his sister. He had the means to save her if she still lived, but would he die? Even if he saved her, did this door lead to salvation or death? Fuck it—he had to save Sarah if possible.

  Max sucked in a deep breath and held it, letting the oxygen soak into his lungs. He leaned back his head and let the micro-breather roll against his chin then quickly lifted the mask. The canister rolled out and all his air rushed from his lungs. When he lowered the mask, he felt light headed, but it seemed he still had some air trapped under his mask.

  He put Sarah into a sitting position, her back leaning against his chest. Positioning the canister with his fingers, he lifted her mask and slid it under. Frosted air clouded from her lungs as the vacuum sucked it from her. Max slid the canister underneath and lowered the mask. He didn't know what more he could do but pray she started breathing.

  Unfortunately, he didn't have the time to wait and watch. He had seconds of air in his mask and had to make use of it all. He stood and turned to possible salvation. The metal cover yielded a little more to his prying fingers until finally he saw a button on a panel. His vision swam and he staggered backwards as the level of CO2 reached poisonous levels in his mask. Max held his breath and hit the button. The doors shuddered and abruptly sprang apart, revealing a small airlock with a flashing red light on the ceiling.

  Numbers counted down on a wall display shielded behind a plate of glass. Max didn't know if the countdown was good or bad. Anything was better than staying out here. He staggered to a knee and blew out his breath. Unless he did something quickly, the next dose of CO2 might overwhelm him.

  Max took back the air canister from Sarah, shoving it under his mask and enduring the extreme cold on his face. He gulped enough air to steady his body and dragged Sarah inside the airlock as the timer reached 10 and continued to countdown.

  Those ten seconds seemed like a lifetime. For all he knew, nothing would happen, or the airlock would expel him. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1—the doors zipped shut. Air blasted from vents and Max shouted in surprise. The red light went solid green and a peaceful chime sounded. He lifted the mask a fraction.

  The air was chilly but not frigid like outside. The air didn't explode from his lungs. I can breathe!

  He dropped the mask to the floor then ripped off Sarah's mask and put his ear to her lips. Nothing.

  "No, no, no!" Max pressed his hands to her chest and pumped it like he'd learned during his law enforcement training. He stopped and blew into Sarah's mouth. No breath. No movement. "Don't die on me, Sarah!" he screamed. "Wake up!"

  He pumped her chest until his arms burned and his tears ran dry. Sarah had asphyxiated long ago. She'd died before he'd ever reached the top of that dune. Max could have saved her if only he hadn't been afraid to switch the micro-breather with her. If only he'd done that just once, they'd both be alive right now.

  "No," He whimpered. "No, no, no!" His ignorance had killed his sister.

  Max stood and leaned his head against the padded wall. Sarah was gone forever. Maybe he'd die too within the next few minutes, depending on what waited on the other side of this airlock. What was the red wasteland he'd just endured? If it was truly outside the dome, why were there walls and a door?

  Is the entire thing a trick?

  He considered everything he'd seen and could draw no other conclusion. The outside could not truly be outside. If anything, it had to be an extension of the dome. One of Max's former prisoners had filled his ears about something called plays. Crews constructed sets
to mimic a place in the real world so people called actors could pretend they were actually there.

  It wasn't a difficult concept to understand, but Alderman considered such constructs from the past treasonous. The actor had fed the daughter for trying to make a play. Was it possible Alderman and his people were guilty of staging a scene to make everyone believe the surface of Mars was right outside the dome?

  Too much about it didn't make sense. The only reason for building a set of Mars was to convince the population they were actually on the red planet. Max thought back to his coded conversation with Sarah while she was locked in the vault. The actual gravity of Mars was about a third that of Earth's. She seemed to think the gravity here was too high to be Mars.

  Max sucked in a breath. What if this wasn't Mars, but Earth?

  If that was true, the other side of this airlock might lead to blue skies and a green world. Maybe that was what Sarah had hoped to find with the toughsuit.

  Grief swallowed him whole and it was all he could do to remain standing. If only he'd known. If only Sarah had told him more! He hugged her limp form and kissed her forehead. Max had accepted the deaths of many. Each one had burdened his soul a little more until the weight felt like a pile of bodies on his back.

  Sarah's death had doubled the load. Max didn't want to move or stand. Lying down and joining his sister seemed the easiest thing to do. But thinking back to the smug look on Barnes's face lit a fire in his guts. He wouldn't just lie down and die like Alderman and those bastards wanted. Max had another shot at life and a fresh chance to kill the governor.

  Sarah, I'll make them pay before I die.

  If this place was on Earth, it meant his chances for survival were much greater than he'd originally thought, unless the planet had been rendered uninhabitable by war, as the official history stated.

  Max put on the mask and found a button next to the other airlock door. It was time to meet his fate. He braced himself and pressed the button.

  The doors hissed open.

  What appeared before him was certainly not Earth. Then again, it didn't seem to be Mars either. A long gray tunnel vanished into darkness. Max looked back at Sarah and decided to leave her in the airlock for now. He could come back for her later, provided he survived. For now, carrying himself forward was burden enough.

  Max lifted the mask a fraction and found breathable air so he turned off the micro-breather and held the mask in one hand. The moment he stepped across the threshold, lights flickered on for several yards ahead. As he continued forward, darkness swallowed what he left behind. After what felt like an hour, he came upon another door.

  He turned on the micro-breather and fitted his mask just in case.

  The doors hissed open into another airlock identical to the last one. What if another fake wasteland lay on the other side of this door, and beyond that, another dome like the one he'd lived in all his life?

  Max imagined a circle of domes connected by long concrete tunnels—an endless loop trapping him from the outside world. Even if he made it across another freezing vacuum, he couldn't exactly knock on the airlock door and ask to come in. Another dome would surely have its own murderous administration that wouldn't want its citizens knowing another civilization existed outside its walls.

  He lifted the mask and exhaled, sealed it back over his suit, and pressed the button.

  The door hissed open.

  Green, green, everywhere. Max gripped the side of the door to keep from stumbling. There were trees in all directions and bushes so thick they blocked his view. Hums, chirps, hoots, howls, thrummed against his eardrums. Compared to the relative quiet of the dome, it was almost too much to handle.

  Max took off the mask and drew in a breath. The air was warm, humid—not unlike some areas down in the brassworks. A rich fruity aroma filled his nostrils and was just as quickly replaced by something dank. He left the airlock and took a step into this new world. Something sticky clung to his face. He jumped back, spitting and pulling on nearly invisible threads. Something big and yellow crawled down his arm. Max shouted and swiped at the many-legged thing and it fell to the ground.

  He tried to squash it, but the little monster ran away on eight legs and vanished in the wide green leaves of a bush.

  Sitting on a stump, Max cleaned the rest of the sticky thread from his face. The forest was so dense, the trees nearly blotted out the sunlight. The thought of stepping further into a wilderness crawling with strange insects and unknown animals filled him with apprehension. But if he wanted to survive, he had little choice. He'd seen creatures at the science zoo, but that small experience hadn't prepared him for surviving out here.

  Max needed water and food. He hoped his life on a farm prepared him for the tasks that lay ahead. Unless he happened upon fruit-bearing trees, he'd have to kill an animal and eat it. To kill anything, he'd need a weapon of some sort, and unless he wanted to eat raw meat, a fire. Without weapons or any idea how to start a fire without man-made means, the future looked daunting.

  Though doubt burdened Max's future, one thing seemed certain. City 7 and its inhabitants were not on Mars.

  They were on Earth.

  Chapter 21

  Finding water topped the list of tasks, but before taking another step into the forest, Max needed a way to find his way back to the airlock. Until he was more confident in his abilities to find shelter elsewhere, it seemed this place would be the safest place to sleep, meaning he had to find his way back here before dark.

  Unfortunately, he had nothing except the suit, the mask, and the micro-breather. Making sure the air canister was off, he placed it and the mask back inside the airlock. He searched the small space and found a maintenance panel similar to the one back in the dome airlock. Pipes and cables on the other side offered nothing of use. He felt around for a piece of loose metal, or anything that could serve as a weapon.

  Clamped to the inside wall, he found something nearly as helpful—a headlight. Max strapped on the small light and tested it. The battery still worked and the light was strong. He poked his head through the large square hole and looked around. Next to the clamp for the headlight, he saw an epad plugged into a charging niche.

  Max unplugged the epad and turned off the flashlight. Why is there an epad inside the maintenance panel? Several icons appeared on the screen when he turned it on. Most of them matched what he'd seen on Sarah's epad, but there was one that caught his attention: Emergency Procedure Manual. He touched it. A red scanning eye appeared on the screen.

  He'd seen Simmons use these to gain access to restricted areas and assumed it was the same thing. His thumb did nothing but provoke an Access Denied message, so he closed the program and looked at the others.

  Video Recorder

  Camera

  Maintenance Logs

  Repair Request

  Entertainment

  The only two that worked without further authorization were the video recorder and camera. He didn't see much use for either of them. Max wondered if Sarah might have clearance to look at the other items, or if they were restricted to administrators. The walk back to her body was too far just for a test, so he plugged the epad back in its niche.

  With a flashlight, the shaded forest didn't seem quite as menacing, but Max still didn't have a weapon. It seemed unlikely he'd find anything inside the airlock so he went back outside and searched. He found a fist-sized rock and a flat one. They were better than his bare fists, but still not terribly reliable.

  Max's throat felt dry. He wasn't sure how long he could last without water—survival tips weren't something they taught in school—but he assumed it was probably about a week. He'd once endured two weeks without much food, giving up rations to help the Coopers after their son fed the daughter, so he reckoned he could go at least that long. The problem would be maintaining enough strength to hunt or gather food while starving.

  The edge of the flat rock felt dull. It might cut warm butter, but not much else. The concrete wall had a rough su
rface, so he worked the edge of the stone against it, flipping it back and forth to wear down the sides evenly. Max wished he had the metal grinder from the farmhouse. It would make short work of this, but for now it was all down to elbow grease, as his father used to say.

  A roar rumbled through the forest. It sounded like one of the big cats Max had seen at the science campus zoo. He tested the edge of the rock and knew no matter how sharp it was he couldn't fight a lion or a tiger with it. Running away would remain the best option. The feeding suit was tough and durable, but he didn't want to test it against fangs and claws.

  Though it wouldn't kill a large predator, the sharp rock would still come in handy for marking the trail. There were plenty of trees to draw arrows on, each one pointing back in the direction of the airlock. In the meantime, Max would keep an eye out for a sturdy branch he could use for a handle, and something to bind the rock to it. It would be quite a luxury if he could manage it. For now, his hands would have to do.

  Before leaving, Max decided it best to close the airlock to keep dangerous animals out. He didn't want to return only to find a predator lurking inside. Max hit the red button on the control panel. The airlock door slid from inside the wall and pressed snugly into place, leaving no trace, and concrete slid down to conceal the control panel, leaving only blank concrete where an airlock door had been.

  The wall looked perfectly smooth as if no door or control panel existed.

  A shock of dismay chilled Max. How was he supposed to open the door again? He pressed his hands against the wall where the control panel had been. Something clicked and the small section slid up to reveal the buttons. Max groaned with relief and left the control panel open so he could find it again.

  Gathering the fist-sized rock and the blade rock, Max prepared to face the wild. Before he even stepped into the shadows of the trees, he realized how much dimmer the light seemed and realized it was probably getting close to night. He'd have to limit the distance he traveled. If he died or fell prey to one of the creatures, there would be no rescue, no help. All that would remain of him would be animal dung and bones. Somehow it seemed worse than dying back in the red sands.