Mars Rising (Domeworld Saga Book 1)

by John Corwin

  "Dead is dead," he muttered. He didn't reckon there was a worse way to die than suffocating on your own breath. Then again, being eaten alive sounded plenty horrible.

  Max turned on the headlight and stepped into the forest before he thought about it too much. A few paces in, he turned back and could barely see the airlock through all the foliage, so he etched an arrow into a tree just above his head to keep it visible above the bushes. He moved in a straight line as best he could, marking arrows and looking back.

  He quickly discovered several more of the big yellow bugs on their sticky woven threads, thanks to the flashlight gleaming off them. He noticed they liked the areas where light shined down between the thick canopy of leaves, as did the flying insects. Max stopped and studied one for a moment, straining his memory. He'd seen a picture of this bug before, and vaguely remembered the woven threads were called a web.

  A spider.

  That's what it was. Roaches were the most plentiful bugs in the dome—red ones, black ones, and even some truly large brown ones far down in the shitworks. Barlow McGee once boasted about tripping over a roach the size of his foot. Then again, it was probably one of those stories where the bug grew with every telling.

  Max marked another tree and ducked beneath the web so he could keep in a straight line. He had to stop and break thin branches on bushes so he could push forward. The gloves on the feeding suit protected his hands, but they probably wouldn't last long against nature. In the dome, breaking a tree branch was grounds for reduced rations or even a week in jail. Max had once locked up someone for that very reason. Now he was breaking enough branches to earn a lifetime in prison.

  It seemed every step was filled with a new variety of tree he'd never seen, new insects, or some small furry creature dashing off into cover. Palm trees, the likes of which he'd only seen in Luxville, grew everywhere and in dozens of different varieties. One stood tall and thin with no branches, thick stilted roots supported another, while others were short with spiky bark.

  There were also hardwoods aplenty, though Max didn't recognize most of the varieties. The most common trees bore smooth bark that leaked a creamy white sap when cut. Max was afraid to touch the stuff in case it was toxic.

  Some areas of the forest were so heavily shaded by canopy, Max had to use his flashlight. It would probably be easier to see during full daylight, but the onset of dusk and so many roots and bushes underfoot made walking treacherous.

  As Max pushed past a large squat shrub, a flock of colorful birds burst from cover, squawking. Max's heel caught on a root in his haste to back away. When he landed, something big and green slithered into the bushes to his right.

  Max shouted and jumped off the ground, clinging to the trunk of a palm tree to avoid the huge snake. Thankfully, the reptile seemed just as scared of him as he was of it. He slid down the tree, now keeping a close eye on the ground, and moved forward at an even slower pace. Salty sweat trickled over his lips, and the feeding suit felt squishy on the inside as moisture gathered between his skin and the rubber insulation.

  His throat felt dry, but tolerable. With so much vegetation, there had to be an ample water source somewhere, like a pond. If he was lucky, he might even see his first real life creek or stream.

  That wasn't what he saw at all when he pushed through the next bush. Something huge flashed from cover. Max saw gleaming yellow eyes glow in the beam of the flashlight before a feline body crashed into him and knocked him on his back. The creature screamed. A paw slashed across Max's chest. The feeding suit shredded down to the inner layer.

  Somehow, Max had the presence of mind to swing the big rock against the cat's head. A loud crack echoed and the rock dropped from Max's fingers. The creature staggered sideways, freeing Max. He rolled away before the cat recovered, pushed up and ran, rubbery legs threatening to collapse at any second. The big cat crashed through the foliage after him. The airlock was too far away, leaving Max little choice but to hunt for an alternative means of escape. He found an oak with a low limb and jumped up to grab it.

  The cat screamed and leapt. Max jerked his legs up just in time to avoid swiping claws. Looping his legs over the branch, he pulled himself up then scrambled higher while the cat came back for another pass.

  The feline looked like a lion, but with a black and tan checkered pattern—probably a cheetah or a leopard, if he remembered correctly. This one had a distinctive white patch on the bridge of its nose. The cat dug claws into the wood. It bounded upward, proving that a tree was no obstacle between it and dinner.

  "Shit!" Max shouted. He grabbed branches overhead and climbed higher. A paw slashed between limbs and knocked his feet out from beneath him. Max clung to a narrow branch, feet swinging free as the leopard tried to claw him again. He flailed with a foot and nearly lost his grip. The feline stalked onto a large limb a few feet beneath Max and lunged upward.

  Max jerked his feet up, hooking one onto the limb. Panting, he looked down at the pacing leopard. The cat turned back to the trunk and began to climb again. Max looked up and realized he was running out of tree. The branches and the trunk grew thinner a few feet up. They might support him, but they wouldn't support the predator. Even so, the cat would probably keep on coming until it had him. Max saw one chance to save his hide.

  As the leopard drew level with its prey, Max swung out from the branch and kicked the feline squarely in the side. The beast screamed and lost its grip, tumbling through the branches with a chorus of yowls until it vanished in the leaves. For a moment, Max thought the leopard was dead, but a defiant roar quashed that notion.

  Max went down a few branches and saw the leopard limping beneath the tree, a front paw gingerly held up to keep it from touching the ground. It might be possible to drop to the ground and run for the airlock, but even with a hurt paw the beast might catch him. One swipe would have disemboweled him if not for the tough inner layers of the feeding suit.

  "Go away!" Max shook his fist but it did nothing to deter the animal.

  Yellow eyes regarded him angrily. The leopard bounded up the tree, but dropped back to the ground with a yowl when its front paw refused to cooperate. Remaining within sight of the leopard only seemed to antagonize it, so Max clambered back up the tree as close to the top as he dared. He found a group of limbs close enough together to support his weight and sat down facing the trunk.

  Twilight faded to black. Max couldn't see more than a few feet all around him even with the flashlight so he turned it off. A growl far below told him the leopard was willing to wait this out.

  "Go away!" Max wearily leaned his forehead against the tree trunk. His throat felt parched and his stomach rumbled, but there was nothing he could do. It seemed he would be spending a long time up here, so he adjusted himself in a more comfortable position and wrapped his arms and legs around the trunk.

  Closing his eyes only brought Sarah's pale face into focus. Tears burned his eyes and trickled down the sides of his nose. His sister was dead and he was stranded in this strange outside world. The task of finding food and water seemed impossible with vicious predators lying in wait. It seemed Max would be feeding after all, but in a more literal way than he could have imagined.

  A gentle breeze swayed the tree. Max looked up and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Bright twinkling lights filled the night sky. The dome over City 7 obscured the view, turning the stars into blurs. Here on the outside he had a clear unobstructed view of the wondrously jeweled darkness.

  "I'm free," he murmured. A bitter laugh followed the foolish statement. Trapped in a tree by a carnivorous monster, Max was anything but free. To be truly free, he'd need to escape his newest prison and find food and water. Being trapped beneath the thumb of an oppressive government took little work. Do what you're told and you might survive. Resist, and die.

  Being free meant working hard, building a shelter, and foraging for necessities. Being free meant no one would defend him except himself. The prospect was almost enough to make him yearn for the sa
fe womb of City 7, for the nanny state that provided everything except for liberty. But life there had merely been an existence. This was an experience none of his fellow civvies could even dream of.

  It was completely up to him to live or die.

  Max drifted into an uneasy sleep that cold rain soon interrupted. The first splashes of water startled him awake. Only his position against the tree kept him from tumbling over backwards in surprise. The drizzle soon turned into a downpour. Max opened his mouth to the sky and drank as much as the leaves overhead released to him, relieving his parched throat.

  The water smelled and tasted different. It lacked the strong odor of chlorine he was accustomed to and had a sweeter taste. Just as quickly as it had begun, the rain stopped. The ripped outer layer of the feeding suit let the water saturate the insulation, leaving Max feeling cold despite the humid environment.

  He was too tired to care. Leaning his head back against the trunk, Max drifted off to sleep once again.

  Scarlett stares down at the food on her plate. "We've got to make them see, Max. This doesn't work and it never will."

  The room looks familiar. A framed picture on a shelf tells Max exactly where he is—in his apartment. But why is Scarlett here?

  Daylight burrowed beneath Max's eyelids, prodding him awake. He blinked and groaned at stiff muscles and bones. His lower back ached, and his butt felt raw from the branches digging into it. One of his legs felt numb from the poor positioning. Once he pulled himself up, the skin prickled as blood rushed back in.

  Something whined in his ear and then his neck felt as if someone had pricked it with a needle.

  "Ow!" Max slapped a hand over the spot and pulled back dark blood and a crushed insect. He heard more whining and saw more of the bugs hovering in the air around him. It seemed everything in this forest wanted his blood—some all at once, and others a little at a time.

  The sunlight grew brighter, illuminating even the dark spaces beneath the thick leaves, but not quite reaching the ground where the leopard might still wait. Max didn't like being blind to the landscape. In the dome, nothing could hide, but this place hid everything until it was too late to escape.

  Max decided it would be a good idea to get the lay of the land, and what better place to do it than at the top of a tree? His tree rose only a little further, but the one next to it climbed several yards higher and offered thicker branches. Max had to climb back down to a broad limb on his tree that touched the other one, then crawled over on hands and knees and began another climb.

  The exertion drove blood to his stiff muscles, driving away the stiffness and pain until they were barely noticeable. A few minutes later, he reached a branch higher than most of the nearby trees and found a whole new world waiting above. It looked as though he stood above a great field of broccoli, with trees stretching as far as he could see.

  Large black birds circled overhead, and in the distance, another flock darted this way and that in the morning light. It was so strange being on the outside after a lifetime of confinement to just a few square miles of space. The bright yellow sphere of the sun, unfiltered by a translucent dome, seemed even brighter than he could have imagined as it rose in the east.

  Max ignored his grumbling stomach and sat down on the broad limb, content to feel the gentle breeze and let the sun dry his suit. His eyes wandered the greenish-blue sky overhead, searching for the mythical clouds he'd once read of, or some other wonder of the outside world. One of the big black birds screeched and dove into the trees. A cloud of green, red, and yellow birds exploded from the canopy and swirled up into the air like living art.

  Nature was beautiful. One of the large birds speared a smaller one in its talons and landed on a tree to eat it. Nature was also damned deadly. Max watched the swirling flock as it climbed higher and higher. It seemed to bounce off something and then reversed course. A cluster of dead birds fluttered from the air and into the jungle. Some of them drifted close enough for Max to snag one from the air. He held the small body in the palm of his hand and examined it. It looked as if it had broken its neck.

  Max shielded his eyes and looked up. It didn't take him long to see what the bird had hit. Though it was transparent and nearly invisible, now that he looked more closely, Max saw sunlight glinting off the obstacle. He wasn't outside at all.

  This wilderness was under another dome.

  Chapter 22

  Max turned around and looked back toward the airlock. Though trees blocked some of the view, he saw a tall gray wall a few hundred yards away where the edges of the crystal-clear dome rested. The top of the wall rose just higher than the tallest of nearby trees, though far off to the northeast, trees with red bark towered even higher.

  Unlike the dome of City 7, this one hid nothing of the outside world. Max wished he could find a nearby tree tall enough to see everything outside. To the west he saw the crest of the translucent dome over City 7, but what he really wanted to see was what other surprises he might find on the true outside. Climbing the wall might offer such a view.

  It seemed his assumption that this was Earth might be premature. Sarah's question about gravity aside, these domes might still be on Mars.

  Max came up with a simple checklist in order of importance:

  1. Find food

  2. Locate water

  3. Climb the wall

  It was time to unravel the truth about this place.

  Max prodded the dead bird and wondered if it had much meat on its bones. Even if it were big and juicy, he needed fire to cook it unless he wanted to eat it raw. Max's stomach rumbled, but the thought of tearing into raw flesh roiled his guts.

  He slapped one of the irritating blood-sucking bugs and looked below. A world of spiders, more bugs, and hungry leopards waited. Unless he wanted to give up and die, he had to climb back down and find a way to survive.

  Despite his farm and ranch training, Max knew nothing about hunting or surviving in the wild. He wasn't a genius like his sister, and barely knew the names of the creatures he'd encountered so far.

  "Ouch!" Max slapped his neck and pulled back another glob of blood. "I don't even know what the fuck this bug is!" He wiped his gloved hand on the tree and sighed. "Make up your damned mind, Max. Do you want to live or not?"

  Simply surviving didn't appeal to him at all. He needed some other reason to live. Sarah was dead, along with everyone else he'd ever loved. Revenge might be one reason, but what hope did he have of breaking back into the dome and killing the oppressors? Zero chance.

  Despite all the reasons to give up, he felt something stirring in his gut—a feeling he hadn't encountered since childhood. Why was there a great domed wilderness here? What else lay beyond these walls? Was this Earth or Mars? When had humans built this?

  Max felt a sense of wonder—the tug of adventure. A whole new world of discovery beckoned, and he was probably the only human in this entire habitat. Or was he? Did Alderman and the other administrators know about this place? Surely, they must have some inkling. If that was the case, why hadn't they sent people out into the red sands to make sure Max didn't make it through the other airlock door? What if they knew he'd breached the door and entered this place?

  Right this very moment, there might be marshals tracking him down.

  Then again, why would they care if he'd made it this far? This place was even more dangerous than living under Alderman's iron-fisted rule. In City 7, there were rules to follow. So long as you stayed between those narrow lines, you could live a decent life. Out here, it was chaos. Only the strong and the smart survived.

  I'm just delaying.

  There was no sense waiting any longer. It was time to go back to ground.

  Before he went, he took another good look around. He spotted a large clearing to the northeast. A body of water might be there, but he needed to climb a lot higher to see, and no other tree in the vicinity offered such a vantage.

  Max made his way back down the tree, but the limbs thinned out considerably and the t
runk widened too much to shimmy down, so he crossed back over to the smaller tree he'd climbed last night. The leopard was nowhere in sight, but that didn't mean it was gone. It might be hiding nearby.

  He spotted his sharpened stone lying on the roots below, and the other rock resting in a patch of mud. Quickly, he dropped to the ground and retrieved his puny weapons, then crouched and waited. No attack other than biting bugs came over the next tense moments, so he decided to proceed forward since there was no use going back to the airlock.

  Max marked the trees and headed northeast toward the clearing. The tree cover grew thicker and the smaller foliage thinned until there was little but roots, trees, scattered bushes, and twilight as the sun struggled to reach the ground through the leaves. It was still bright enough to see clearly and, with most of the underbrush gone, Max felt he had a better chance to spot predators. The flashlight helped a little, but he kept it off to preserve its battery.

  Fallen trees covered in moss, and a scattering of ferns and other short plants painted a beautiful landscape, but Max couldn't afford to drink it all in. Even without the biting insects, the hairs on his neck stood on end. It was as if something about this place activated a forgotten part of his brain, something inherited from his earliest ancestors.

  The dome's official history mentioned ancient man and his tenacity. It celebrated how humans rose from people with clubs to a species advanced enough to reach the stars, though there was little detail in between the two. Max hoped he had some of his ancestors' ability to live without technology. If he felt like he was being stalked, it probably meant he was.

  Max ducked beneath a fallen, moss-covered tree and looked at his surroundings. He spotted movement. Something large lumbered his way. It stopped and pawed at a bush, long snout sniffing. Max knew what it was—a bear, all big and black and covered in hair. It didn't seem to have noticed Max, or else it didn't care.