by John Corwin
Max bit his lip, then took a gamble. Tell Yancy to relax. All is well. Back tomorrow or the day after.
The reply came seconds later. Admit it. You're having the time of your life. Better you than me.
You know I like to hunt, Max replied.
Just don't make the boars extinct. I'll tranquilize Yancy for you. See you when you get back.
Max blew out a long sigh. Apparently the other ranger bought the deception, granting him a little more time. He spent a few minutes looking through the other icons on the map and found a list of tasks.
Examine Babar's left hind leg for injury.
Locate Panthra, evaluate well-being.
Cull thirty boars, shoats first, adults last.
The first two items were crossed out. Creed had apparently never started on the boar culling. Instead, he'd switched to making Max extinct.
Another icon brought up a bestiary filled with facts about animals. The index boasted thousands of entries. The information would be very useful in the travels ahead.
Max tucked the epad into a pocket on the backpack and focused on the next task—finding more airlocks, should they exist. Searching thirty miles of wall seemed insurmountable, but so had crossing the red wastes and defeating an armed ranger. As Max remembered it, the control panel for the airlock leading back to City 7 had been about chest high, so he pressed his hands to the wall in that general vicinity and began the search.
By using both hands to press the wall as he walked, he made slow but steady progress, thankful to have the flat perimeter path to walk instead of muddy swamp water. By noon he was nearly to the black line indicating the southern point of the dome. He ate a quick lunch from one of the meal packs and was preparing to resume his journey when he heard blaster fire whining through the trees. A brilliant red flash exploded a hundred yards to the north in a stand of hardwoods. Max dropped to the ground.
His ruse with the messages hadn't worked. The other ranger had come looking and already found him.
Chapter 28
Max growled and pounded the dirt with a fist. Why couldn't people just leave him alone?
Crimson lasers zipped through the trees, exploding against bark and bare dirt. The swamp had receded half a mile ago, giving way to tall trees and a jungle floor carpeted with leaves and ankle-high ferns, granting a view obstructed only by the thick tree trunks.
After a few more seconds of seemingly random blaster fire, Max began to realize whoever it was wasn't after him unless they were a terrible shot.
An inhuman scream filled the air followed by an all-too-human shriek.
Max didn't know what in the hell was going on, but decided to find out. Using the trees as cover from the random blaster bolts, he made his way into the jungle.
Something huge exploded from behind a tree and knocked him over. Max rolled to his stomach and looked up into the golden eyes of his first nemesis, Patch. This time, the big cat didn't seem so eager to eat him. Instead of advancing, it backed away, muzzle peeled back in a snarl.
A smoking black streak ran down the hide on its left flank where a blaster bolt had grazed it. Max pulled Creed's knife from its sheath and slowly rose to his knees.
"Easy now," he said in a soothing voice. "Why don't you just run away, Patch, and we'll finish this another day?"
The leopard's muscles coiled, as if preparing to pounce. Max tried to unsling the blaster rifle from his back, but the steady rumbling in Patch's throat grew louder.
Max prayed that whoever shot the leopard wasn't coming up behind him right now. For all he knew, it was a scientist who'd come looking for Creed only to find a leopard that wanted to eat him for dinner.
Patch prowled closer, the growl rising in his throat.
"Fine, you want to finish this now?" Max snarled and brandished the knife. "Come get me, you bastard! I reckon I'll cut you to pieces before you kill me."
The leopard lunged forward. Max dodged to the side just in the nick of time. He spun and tried to stab the leopard's flank, but the big cat was too fast and twisted around. Patch slammed into Max, but he jabbed the knife forward and felt it stab into bone. The hilt jammed his hand and he lost his grip before rolling over backwards and losing the blaster rifle off his back.
Patch screamed and leapt away, blood trickling from a cut on its chest, but the cat wasn't done. Max spotted the knife on the ground between him and the enraged leopard. There was no way he'd get it in time. The rifle was just a few feet away as well. They both might as well have been a mile distant for all the good it did him.
The trees were too thick to climb here. His only chance was to run and come back for the weapons later.
He heard a groan and then blaster bolts exploded all around him. Patch roared and dashed away in a blur.
"Turn around, now," said a commanding voice.
Max gritted his teeth. He'd just traded one death for another. He put his hands in the air and slowly turned around. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open with horror when he faced the attacker.
Chapter 29
The Past
Protestors lined the streets outside City Hall, waving their signs and chanting the same mantra over and over again. "We say no! The mayor must go!"
"Your poll numbers dropped another three points." Rick Connelly dabbed sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "We should rethink your strategy, sir. I have some ideas how we can repackage this and save face."
The mayor squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will not back down from these illiterate thugs."
"The unions see your reforms as direct attacks on them," Rick said.
"I gave teachers a choice," the mayor said. "Corporate wages for shedding the bureaucracy. I offered them a golden age of education."
"The unions think it will usher in the dark ages." Rick shook his head. "Sir, we both know your reforms are the right thing to do, the problem is, they aren't politically feasible."
It seemed every union in the city had bussed protestors into town. Garbage trucks blocked intersections and people clogged the roads. Even religious leaders from both sides of the aisle held their own signs. Keep God In School!
A growl rose in the mayor's throat. "I'm sick of politics, Rick. It's time we stopped pandering to the unions, business leaders and anyone else who thinks they own the government."
Rick patted his forehead with the damp handkerchief. "I understand, but you need political support."
The mayor slammed a fist on the desk. "To hell with political support! Do you know why we have crime? Do you know what breeds street thugs, extremism and terrorists?"
"Socioeconomic stagnation, poverty—"
The mayor waved slashed a hand through the air. "You're talking symptoms, Rick. The root cause is ignorance. We don't educate people anymore. We give them free babysitters and throw test after test in their face without teaching them any real-world skills. We're not reforming education here, we're transforming it." He scowled at the thousands gathered outside. "None of them understand what I'm doing. They just want to wallow in their own ignorance. Nobody wants to work for the future."
"You're changing things too quickly." Rick loosened his tie and collar and fanned his red face. "Please, sir, I'm begging you. Let's slow this down before it derails."
"By that time I'll be out of office." The mayor shook his head. "Take out bureaucracy, take out religion, pay the teachers corporate wages and treat them like professionals. It all works together, Rick. Once we open the new academies, New York will rise to the top of the world in science and technology. We won't be importing our brains from overseas. We'll ensure the future of the human race."
"But it goes against the unions, against organized religion, sir. Even the corporate community thinks it's a waste of money."
"Because they want to profit off education!"
Rick pressed a hand to his chest and took a deep breath. "You can't change human nature overnight."
Someone rapped hard on the door. Rick op
ened it and a pale-faced Patricia Morgan stepped inside. She whispered in Rick's ear.
"Enough!" The mayor stepped across the room. "What's the word?"
Patricia swallowed hard. "Sir, they have enough signatures for a recall vote. Barry Smith is demanding a meeting. He said if we don't go with the coalition's demands, he'll take the petition to the election commission and push for the recall."
"To hell with him." The mayor clenched his fists. Backing down meant losing everything he'd worked for. He'd spent two years building political capital with the city council, with the board of education, and with teachers. He'd even had the support of the people until organized religion stepped in and worked the ignorant masses into a lather about removing God from schools.
The world wasn't ready for change.
"Sir, I think we should listen to what he has to say." Rick clasped his hands together in front of his chest as if in prayer. "Please listen to me. We need to do something if you want to stay in office."
"Do you think I resigned as CEO of my company and ran for office so I could be the puppet of fear-mongering fools?" The mayor said. "I will not back down just to stay in office."
Tears trickled down Patricia's cheeks. "You're a good person, sir."
"Everyone clear out," the mayor said. "I need time to think. Tell my secretary I don't want to be disturbed."
Rick motioned Patricia through the door and stopped on his way out. "For what it's worth, sir, I believe in what you're trying to do. Realistically, I think it's over for now." He looked down and closed the door.
The mayor sat in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin and watched the raucous crowd below. The door clicked open and shut behind him. "I said not to disturb me." He turned, expecting to see his secretary there. Instead, a woman in a black suit stood just inside the door.
"Who the hell are you?" the mayor asked.
"You have proven yourself a worthy candidate," the woman said. She stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Mayor Alderman, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Answer the question," he said coldly.
She lowered her hand. "What if you had the power to implement any policy you wanted without political interference?"
"Where?" he scoffed. "In a third-world country? I don't think so."
"Mayor, I represent a consortium of power people who are sick and tired of the way the world works." She removed a laptop. "For decades, they've been working on a solution. Now we're just recruiting the right people."
Alderman stared at her, unsure if this was a trick, or if someone mentally unstable had slipped past his people. "I'll ask you one more time before I have you thrown out. Who are you?"
The laptop screen flickered on. She turned on a program and suddenly the faces of people filled it—men and women he recognized from the news. It took a moment to register that they were talking.
"Is this live?" Alderman asked.
"Hello, Mayor," one man said. "I'm glad you've decided to hear our proposal."
Alderman's throat went dry. "Yes, of course, Mr. Musk."
The billionaire smiled. "Just call me Edward."
Present Day
Terrence Alderman stood on the narrow bridge leading from Overlook to the top of the dome wall, a stiff breeze making his eyes water. The best and the brightest minds worked on the science campus far below, the fruits of his dedication to education. He'd once thought that educating everyone equally was the answer to the problems vexing humanity. Unfortunately, when everyone had access to equal education, only the morons were left to do the menial work still required by a functioning society.
Until robotics were perfected, humans were still required for maintenance. Society still needed cogs in the machine, an infrastructure to support the higher functions, just as the brain needed the heart and lungs. Everything had to work together so the brain could find ways to improve conditions for the body.
So far, this socioeconomic model worked the best, even if it increased the statistical chances of an insurgency. Alderman was doing the best he could with what he'd been given, but it seemed apparent that humanity was poor clay from which to mold perfection. Once formed into even the finest of vessels, cracks soon formed until they fell apart. People had the inherent tendency to do more harm than good. They destroyed themselves.
Just as Richard Barnes had done.
Alderman's own trusted second had tried to cause a revolt. In retrospect, his motives seemed clear—wipe away humanity. Instead, Scarlett Flynn had ended him before throwing herself out of the airlock and into the merciless arms of Mars. Both problems had solved themselves, but there was still the aftermath to deal with.
It was impossible not to compare this situation to what had happened before. It seemed City 7 would not stand the test of time without serious adjustments.
Alderman checked the time. Simmons was running late.
He walked across the bridge where the dome met the top of the wall. The translucent solar glass blurred the view except in one small place. Alderman cupped his hands around his forehead and pressed them to the glass. Far in the distance across the dusty red plains rose another sparkling dome.
Utopia. The Promised Land.
One day he would make this work and lead his advanced society across the plains to their new home. Founder Musk had promised him. City 7 was just a manmade purgatory, an incubator for perfection.
Alderman envisioned blue skies instead of dreary green and a verdant landscape instead of red. Someday even the domes would no longer be necessary, but he would be long dead by that glorious day.
"Dreaming again?"
Alderman contained the reflex to flinch in surprise. "Took your time getting here, Oswald." He turned around slowly.
"I had to stage an accident for Deputy Flynn." Simmons stepped up to the window and peered outside. "We can't have everyone knowing she exited the airlock of her own accord."
"Your marshals know to keep their mouths shut, I hope."
"Of course." Simmons sighed. "Do you suppose we'll make it over there in our lifetime?"
Alderman stiffened. "Of course. We need to smooth out the societal substrata until wrinkles like Planck and Flynn don't exist."
The investigator pulled away from the glass and turned around. "As of today, they don't exist anymore. Flynn might have a few hours' worth of oxygen, but she'll be dead soon enough."
"Maybe we should send someone out to retrieve the bodies," Alderman said. "I don't like knowing they made it out of sight."
Another figure left Overlook and strode across the bridge. Gavin Kearns raised a disapproving eyebrow. "How many times must I tell you not to look to the future when the present needs attention?"
Alderman ignored the mantra. "Who do we have to replace Barnes?"
Kearns scoffed. "The man is irreplaceable, but I suppose we'll have to promote someone."
"Fucking mankind." Simmons glared at the land below. "Maybe Barnes was right."
"Starting over again is not an option," Kearns said. "At this rate, we'll all be dead before making significant progress."
Simmons barked a laugh. "I'm not talking about starting over." He spat over the side of the bridge. "I think it's time we flush humanity down the toilet of bad ideas."
Alderman looked into the eyes of one of the few people he called friend and saw absolute conviction and sincerity. It was enough to make his own resolve waver. Maybe Oswald was right. Maybe humanity was too deeply flawed.
Maybe it was time to end it all.
Chapter 30
The airlock door clicked closed behind Scarlett Flynn and air hissed into the room. She knelt next to Sarah Planck. The perfect stillness of the woman left little doubt in Scarlett's mind that she was dead.
"Max Planck, you son of a bitch." Scarlett banged a fist against the padded wall. "Looks like you kept that air I gave you all to yourself." Just when she started to feel like he might deserve a second chance, he proved he didn't give a damn about anyone but himself.
Had Sarah had known about this airlock door? The toughsuit Max stole for her made more sense now, but those plans had fallen apart when Scarlett found the toughsuit and reported Max. In the end, Sarah must have told Max about this place, and the fool man thought he could carry his sister inside before she suffocated. All he had to do was share the micro-breather with Sarah for a few seconds and they'd both be alive.
Apparently, Max had left his sister to rot in the airlock.
Scarlett hadn't known Sarah very well, but despite being a scientist, Sarah had been very nice the few times they'd met. She didn't deserve to decompose in here. Scarlett punched the button and the door slid back open. She dragged the body out into the red sands and put Sarah into a respectful repose, arms crossed across her chest. The cold would preserve her unless and until the day Mars breathed warm air.
"Sarah Planck, I reckon I didn't know you too well, but you deserved better than this. I don't know what you did to commit treason, but I'd bet it was something brave." Scarlett secured the protective facemask over the dead woman to keep dust out. "I wish your brother wasn't such a worthless coward and hadn't left you to rot. I hope you find peace." Scarlett wasn't sure what more she could say, especially since she had nothing good to say about Max.
Scarlett retrieved her duffel bag and bladewheel where she'd dropped them earlier before heading back inside the airlock and sealing it. Instead of removing the bubble helmet, she went to the second door and hit the button to open it. Scarlett frowned in confusion when lights flickered on to reveal a tunnel vanishing into darkness. Despite her misgivings, she removed the bubble helmet and was relieved to find breathable air.
Scarlett's legs suddenly felt weak and she leaned against the wall for support. Even though it was well staged, the red wasteland outside the airlock was not the real surface of Mars at all, but a huge room designed to kill anyone sent inside. Simmons would soon find out that Scarlett entered the kill room with protective gear and he'd send someone after her, giving her no choice but to continue down this tunnel to whatever lay at the end.