By this point Kyle had recovered sufficiently to chime in. Waving to his surroundings he countered, "Have you seen this place? I'd rather live in LaLa Land than in Crazy Town."
Liz and John rolled their eyes in practiced synchronicity.
John took advantage of the opportunity to change the subject. “And just how in the world did you get out here?” he asked.
“How above the world might be more accurate,” Liz replied. “Let's just say I had to make an emergency landing from a ship. As it turns out, these people seem to have a keen interest in things that drop out of the sky. After finding me, they flew me to this quaint little village.”
Liz stuck her arms straight out in jest. “Before you can arrest me, however, we're going to need to get off this forsaken birds nest. These creatures have served their purpose in rescuing me, but they cannot get it through their brains I need to leave.”
Kyle was ready to move on. “As much entertainment value as these stories hold, I have to agree with her, John. We lost a night somehow, I'm sure there are some folks looking for us by now. We need to get back to the ATV.”
John nodded his head and walked to the edge of the platform. From there he could see two of the winged men working in the distance. He focused his thoughts on one of them and tried to project an image into its mind. An image filled with thought of returning to the ATV at the outpost.
He could see the two of them take flight, but instead of flying toward him, they flew off away.
“So much for that,” John muttered.
“What'd you do? Try to communicate with them?” Kyle asked pondering for a moment.
John nodded.
“You're going to need some corn feed for that I'm afraid,” Liz joined in. “I've been trying for hours to get them to understand. They don't have the sense for it.”
“Where did they come from anyway?” asked Kyle. “It's not like they were living here before we terraformed the place.”
“Then I suppose you have your answer,” Elizabeth replied being purposefully coy.
“Speaking of impossibilities,” John started. “Just how is it that you look the same, almost exactly the same, from twenty years ago?”
“Mars is a planet full of wonders,” she replied, “and you're just a neophyte here. If you help me get back to my people, perhaps I can share some of what I've learned.”
John turned to her with a look of genuine anger in his eyes.
“I should abandon you here, just like you left us, fending for ourselves,” John said in low seething tones. “But in the end, that's just one of many ways we will always be different. I lend a helping hand, not let a hand go.”
Elizabeth's lips pursed while she struggled to find the words to counter his accusations. Without a word she chose to let it go. A drop of moisture formed in the corner of her eye. Thanks to her genetic disposition, it evaporated before becoming a tear.
Their arguing distracted them from the party of winged men flying in their direction. A keen observer would have identified it as the same group that met John. They landed near the three visitors and approached. The leader once again held out the metal necklace and voiced his musical words.
This time, however, John did not try to talk. Instead he conjured a video in his mind based on Jessica's retelling of her "encounter". He added her description of sights and sounds from that moment and sent them to the winged man.
A look of surprise, if such could be read, appeared in the leader's eyes. He again pointed toward the sky. This time though, he held out the necklace to John. John took the necklace and closed his eyes. He tried to block out everything around him and hear the thoughts of this winged man. The sounds of the wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the creaking of the platform all disappeared. Even the tingling smells of sweet fruits cleared from his nose.
His surroundings were replaced with another time on the same platform. In this time, however, it was not John standing on the platform, but Admiral Conrad. She was several years younger than when they had met. The admiral was talking through her Ksync in the same vocal tones that the winged man used. After their conversation ended, the leader placed a metal band with sparkling stones around her head.
John's head pounded under the strain, breaking his concentration and returning him to his current surroundings. He was left with a strong thought a name that stood out in the songs. Peacemaker.
Coming out of his fog and shaking his head, John groaned. “Sheesh, it had to be vocals. I play guitar for a reason you know.” John cleared his throat.
In a mildly musical voice, John looked at the leader and sang the name given to the admiral.
The group responded energetically, with a clap of their hands and seemingly, their wings.
Kyle looked to John and said, “For a musical people they're sure appreciative of your attempt to sing.”
“Not everyone can be Sinatra,” John shot back.
Kyle was about to respond in kind, but before he could, the leader sang out a loud boisterous lyric. It was followed by a song that weaved through the trees. Within seconds, two dozen winged men and women flew to the platform from every part of the surrounding canopy. The leader motioned toward John, Kyle, and Liz. He gave a command by song, and the winged people gently picked them up. They were flown down into the canopy toward a lower level of platforms.
They landed on the largest platform in sight. This one was more circular in nature with a hollowed out center. Stadium style seating was ornately carved around the center as though meant for a great gathering area. The perimeter of the area was marked by tall hollowed out logs. Much like Native American totem poles, the logs were carved and shaped to form a variety of designs. What caught John's curiosity were the odd assortment of items placed inside them. The gear could not be manufactured by the winged people. Its technological level was far superior to wooden huts and platforms.
The three of them were herded down the stairs and into the open middle. There they were joined by the leader. The remainder of the winged people tightly packed themselves into the circular seating.
With a low bass tone, they began to sing. One by one the richness of their voices added to a song. John's curiosity grabbed the better of him as he tapped into his neuroband. He recognized his skills were slowly building with each use of the band. John decided to give himself a test and hoped he would pass. He opened his mind to the song, listening to the thoughts of each voice adding to the harmony.
Like a dream taking shape, his mind transformed the notes of the song into a movie. Their thoughts transported him once again into the past. He saw the MARC outpost anew. Unlike today, the terrain was barren, and the building stood upon the red rock of Mars. People wearing full environmental suits worked around the building. Then the scene shifted. The great rains came forcing everyone inside the building. They ran to shelter in terror. The drops of rain tore at the ground ripping apart the rock and turning it into a muddy sea. When the rains stopped, the sun appeared. Another great storm came. This one, however, was a storm of dust and seed. The outpost was battered by the storm, but the people lived.
As they left the building, sprouts of green thrust themselves from the red soil. The once barren rock exploded with an ecosystem of color. Shrubs appeared, and then trees. The people of the outpost smiled and played in the rainforest. They feasted on the fruits of the trees and grew their own plants.
John's consciousness felt the song change, matching the darker thoughts taking hold of his mind. The people grew sick and some perished. Those that survived began to change with their environment loosing substantial amounts of body mass.
The trees grew to massive proportions. With the jungle came the insects, the Martian locusts, ants, and beetles. Something else came; strange beasts of amazing build. Some looked as though they had descended from Terran animals, others were completely foreign.
As a result, the people sought the protection of the trees and began living amongst them. Within weeks their bodies began to change.
Some formed massive muscular structures and wings. Others became larger, their entire bodies adapting to the environment. Some people grew sleeker and moved with unmatched grace.
Once again the song’s feeling changed this time to angst. Great battles took place amongst the New Martians. They fought not as humans, but with a sense of their new found heritage. Great cat warriors hunted the winged people at night. The winged people hunted the cats through the jungle by day.
The song changed yet again this time to hope. Great lights came down from the sky. People in massive metal flying ships swarmed into the forest. A woman led the sky warriors. She walked as they once had walked. She spoke as they once had spoken. In time she learned the new languages of the winged people and the cats. From her words with them came peace, and the suffering ended.
The song was fading in intensity as it came to a close. The leader of the winged people gave the peacemaker a necklace of shimmering stones. Gathered from the titanic mountains of the west, these stones glowed when held close. It was the greatest treasure they could give her for the great gift she had given a people.
The song ended. John nearly collapsed on the floor, caught, as he fell, by Kyle and Elizabeth.
He regained consciousness several minutes later. The best he could tell, he was propped up on a bench. Elizabeth was wiping his forehead with some sort of wet cloth and Kyle was running a med scan of him with his Ksync.
John was confused, “Where did you get that Ksync?”
“Up there from the hollow tubes,” Kyle replied. “What’s left of our weapons and uniforms were bundled up in one of them too.”
John struggled to get to his feet. He tried to run up the stairs to the hollow logs, faltering as he went.
“Hey John!” Kyle yelled, “take it easy!”
John ignored him and finally reached a hollow log. Pulling the equipment out of the log, he haphazardly looked at each piece of gear. Finally he pulled out a uniform. It was a MARC issue uniform, circa the establishment of the dome cities. He sat down on the stairs half-collapsing again, but managing to catch himself.
Still holding the uniform, he held it up for Kyle to see.
“These are people Kyle,” John tried to get out. “These are our people. They're from the outpost.”
Kyle clearly looked confused. “What do you mean? John look at them, there's no way...”
John reached into the hollow log and pulled out a pistol, interrupting Kyle. “So where did they get these from?”
Kyle jogged up the stairs. Reaching the top, he knelt down and looked at the pistol he was holding.
“That’s a GII standard issue MARC pistol,” he confirmed, drawing from his area of expertise. “They must have found it down in the outpost John and flew it up here.”
“They flew it up here alright,” John confirmed, “but they didn't find it. This weapon was issued to one of the winged people. Maybe even someone here who's still alive.”
By this time Elizabeth had walked up to them.
“You discovered the truth to your first Martian mystery I see,” Elizabeth stated.
Kyle looked at her in dismay.
“It's okay, you're a warrior,” Liz spoke to Kyle as an adult would converse with a child. “It's not for you to reason why."
“I'm not some bone-headed grunt, Your Highness.” Kyle took offense to her remarks. “I can add with my fingers and toes and everything.”
John thought about breaking it up, but he didn't have the energy in him. Kyle could hold his own. He looked through some of the items inside the logs. There was some old tech in there, but the winged people seemed to have taken good care of it.
John listened to them argue for long enough and was about to intervene when something moving with incredible speed bounded by them. It lifted Elizabeth clean off her feet. The creature was the size of a panther and moved like one. John, however, caught a glimpse of its eyes and his jaw dropped once again. This was no panther, it was a person from the winged people's song.
The man… panther… man… whichever, fired his powerful legs and jumped down the platform with Elizabeth. Meanwhile the residents burst into a cry of alarm that carried through the trees.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Kyle managed to get out.
Without wasting the time to comment, John grabbed a lift pack that he had spied moments before. Strapping the pack around his back, he sprinted in the direction they had left. He could only hope the integrity of its outdated fuel cells were functional.
Kyle looked around wondering what he should do then ran after all of them. Following up from the rear were a pair of winged men. Kyle continued running toward the edge of the platform, quickly running out of room. Ahead of him, John had fired his lift pack and jumped off the platform.
As he reached the edge, Kyle stopped. He didn't have the means to continue. What he did have was the Ksync he had retrieved from the hollow logs. Kyle activated the scanner and locked it to John's position.
He then sent an all call on the Ksync. “This is Lieutenant Jennings. If anyone receives this, Commander Quinn needs emergency assistance. I am broadcasting his location, please assist if possible.”
#
The closest experience John had with a lift pack was during his physical activities class as a teenager. They used something like it to play an adapted version of American football. John hoped he could use the pack like he did as a linebacker.
He couldn't see much through the vines and trees. Thankfully the toga Liz was wearing was designed to give off a muted glow in the dark. It was meant to add an angelic haze to those that observed her, but in this case it made for a poor man's homing beacon.
As he sped through and around the giant leafy plants of the canopy, John tried to think of what he was going to do if he caught up to them. He was still holding the old pistol from the hollow logs, but it didn't have a stun setting. It had only one setting--shoot to kill. His uniform could have stunned the man, but it was lying in pieces back on the platform.
John hoped he had another ace card up his sleeve. He waited until he saw a clearing ahead and then made his move. Composing an image of his first meeting with the winged men proved difficult as he was dodging vines from trees. He tried to capture how they smelled, what they wore, and how they sounded. Twisting the senses together he conjured up an image. He heaved the image ahead of him like a mental net.
The effect was immediate. The panther man dropped straight down to the forest floor hoping to avoid his new captors. John continued his pursuit projecting his thoughts as he dove to the forest floor after them. He knew the speed of the chase would soon turn deadly for one of them. Ahead a cluster of trees gave John an idea. Pushing his mind to the limit, he dropped a projection of winged men in front of the panther. The threat forced the panther to cut left into the wooden dead end. As they landed, he turned and gave a screeching hiss in all directions as if to warn off an advance.
John fought to maintain the image he was projecting. He needed to know what the kidnapper was thinking. This was the proverbial corner he had backed the man into. He didn't want to find what desperation could drive him to choose. John tried, but couldn't communicate and maintain an image. He did pick up an empathic list of feelings instead: jealousy, fear, pain, and anger came through crystal clear.
John backed the winged men off slowly. At the same time he dropped his pistol, hoping to show a sign of good faith (not that he was going to use it anyway.) The man relaxed slightly buying John a moment to examine him in more detail. It was probably inaccurate to call the man a “panther”. He was, however, covered head to toe with a short fur. His muscles rippled all over especially in his legs. Unlike the winged men who wore layers of clothes, his features were more distinctly animal in nature. This lent to the minimalist approach of a loincloth and no more.
The next move was made for them. Several nets fell from trees directly above him. The "real" winged men decided to try to capture the panther man. Although he deftly avoided the first two
, the sheer number of nets would defeat his most nimble moves. Thought the nets hit their mark, both Liz and the kidnapper were tangled together.
John let his mirage drop as he rushed to them. The winged men stopped hovering and landed as though they would move in for the catch. Motioning for them to get back, John tried to keep the man in the netting calm. If he tried to shred the netting, his claws could tear Liz to pieces. Without having to split his concentration on an image, John tried to communicate. He was at a loss, however, of what kind of image could possibly sooth him.
Through the netting John caught of glimpse of Liz. Her eyes were trembling. Somehow that look tapped into a passion he had locked away some time ago. If John was to save her, he would have to place that feeling into the panther's heart.
Using the last bit of mental energy he had left, John closed his eyes and sent his memory to the man. Classical music played in the background with a trio of violins carrying a melodic tune. A room full of people, all dressed in their finest clothes, danced to the music. Those who were sitting dined at luxurious tables. His father was one of those people, sitting next to his mother. They seemed so happy back then. If their happiness was echoed anywhere else in the room, it was in the center of the floor where a young couple danced. She wore a stunning white gown, and he was dressed in a finely tailored tuxedo. As the couple spun their faces beamed of joy. For that moment in time Jonathon Quinn and Elizabeth Quinn were happily wed. The strain of projecting the memory left John barely aware of his surroundings. His exhaustion blinded him to the reality that he had sent the memory to everyone in the gathering.
His attention was broken by a crashing noise in his head that hit him harder and harder with each crash. The last crash was so intense it felt as if the ground was shaking. Instead of his head bursting, however, The Compromise burst through the treetops. It splintered trees as it forced a path through to the group and landed. Its lights banished the darkness of the forest floor, bringing even more sunlight through the opening it created.
Curious Sols (The Sol Principle Book 1) Page 26