The Particle Beast

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The Particle Beast Page 7

by Ian C Douglas


  “Oh,” Zeke mumbled through tears.

  Outside, a dust devil was following them. The vortex of dust glowed in the shape of a man. The legs moved and with every step covered several metres. It effortlessly kept pace with the MUV.

  “It’s been following us since we left Edenville,” Isla explained.

  “Just great,” Zeke muttered.

  Isla hugged him tighter. Zeke closed his eyes and listened to the hum of the engine as they drove deeper into the alien desert.

  End of Part One

  Part Two

  Chapter Thirteen

  Biosphere Three

  “Wakey, wakey!”

  Zeke forced his eyes open. The tiny cubicle where he’d spent the night stunk of plastic. He hauled himself out of the sleeping bag, teeth gritted against the pain. His fracture throbbed painfully.

  “I’m shattered,” he grumbled.

  “Take this,” Isla the Incisor said, and tossed him a vial. “A pick-me-up.”

  “A what?”

  “Red Martian. It’s a high energy drink.”

  Zeke held the vial up to the photon lamp. Crimson liquid bubbled like soda.

  “Quickly, you’re summoned.”

  “Eh?” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  An odd expression spread across Isla’s face.

  Zeke gazed into her wistful green eyes and thought two things. A: she had stunning looks. B: she was sad about something.

  “Lutz wants to see you, asap.”

  “You mean your Lutz, Lutz Senior?”

  Running the most important school in the solar system was, of course, one of the most important jobs in the solar system. No one could do it as well as Lutz. For that reason every time she died, another Lutz was cloned from her DNA. A computer chip in the brain recorded each Lutz’s brainwaves. So each clone contained the memories of all her predecessors. It was a kind of immortality.

  Unfortunately, Lutz Four had gone missing and was declared dead. The much younger Lutz Five was put in post. Then, Lutz Four turned up embarrassingly alive. Five banished Four to the Freetown where she now reluctantly worked as Ptolemy Cusp’s psychic advisor.

  Isla nodded glumly. “She’s confined to bed.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s sick, Zeke.”

  “Sick?”

  “Mars isn’t like Earth, you know.”

  “You don’t say!” Zeke replied sarcastically.

  A short-lived grin flashed across her delicate lips. “The harsh radiation. People don’t go on for decades the way they do back on Earth.”

  “Are you saying she’s—?”

  “The last few weeks she’s suffered visions. Hallucinations. Sometimes she screams the roof off. There again, I’ve found her sobbing.”

  “About what?”

  Isla bit her lip before answering. “She won’t say. Not to me anyway. It’s you she keeps calling for.”

  “Me?”

  “You. Now look lively.”

  Zeke and Isla emerged from Biosphere Three into the cold Martian dawn. Daylight trickled down from lofty peaks. The light caught the tents and prefabs in a sea of angles. Yuri-Gagarin Freetown was a clutter of makeshift homes.

  “This way,” Isla said, striding into the gloom.

  A surge electrified Zeke’s body. He hobbled after her, swinging his crutch with a new confidence. Red Martian clearly had the punch of an atomic bomb.

  The morning air was heavy with bacon. Someone was cooking breakfast deep in the canvas maze.

  “Where do people get their food from?” he asked.

  Edenville was built around farming. But he’d never seen any crops or livestock at the Freetown.

  “From the market, naturally. Where else?” Isla replied. Her tone suggested it was a dumb question.

  Zeke’s brain raced, giddy with Red Martian.

  “Can I buy nanomacs there?”

  “For your broken leg?”

  He nodded.

  “No, you need the weekly Techno-mart. You’re in luck, there’s one today.”

  Before Zeke could thank her they arrived at the entrance to Biosphere Four.

  “Put on your best bedside manner, Zeke.” Isla said. “If you upset the old lady, I’ll have your guts for space garters.”

  A bed filled the middle of a bare room. A wizened face peered out from a nest of pillows and bed sheets.

  “Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong room,” Zeke said.

  A hand emerged from under the bedding and beckoned him nearer. He scrutinised the face. It was Lutz Four after all! Yet she’d changed so much. When they first met she was gnarled with age, true. But she stood tall and proud, a formidable presence. Now she looked withered, as though the life was being sucked from her. Zeke pulled a chair up to her bedside.

  “You came,” she rasped in a weak voice.

  Her face was shrivelled like a rotting apple. A halo of ashen ringlets flowed onto her pillows. The eyes were dull and cloudy. Zeke stared at her dark skin, pocked by deep creases. She smelled of soap and sweat.

  “I had to see you. Before—”

  “How are you feeling?” Zeke heard himself ask quickly. She waved her hand as though to bat the remark away.

  “I’m seeing things.”

  “Things?”

  “To come.”

  Zeke nodded. Every Mariner excelled in one skill above all others. For Lutz it was precognition, the same as Pin-mei.

  “Terrible, terrible things.”

  Lutz tried to sit up, only for a coughing fit to overwhelm her. She sank back onto the pillows. Zeke passed her a glass of water from the nightstand. She sipped a few mouthfuls and gave it back. Instinctively, he held her hand. It felt cold and leathery.

  “You should rest,” he said. As sorry as he was for her, he was also uncomfortable. There had to be some excuse to leave without seeming impolite.

  “I must tell you, about the things. The visions.”

  A shiver danced on Zeke’s neck. “Why me?”

  “Because you’re in them.”

  Goosebumps tickled his arms and legs. “Me? It must be a dream.”

  She tightened her grip. There was a surprising strength in the old woman. Fear burned through the glaze on her retinas. “The Spiral is coming.”

  His throat ran dry. “What do you know of the Spiral?”

  Lutz trembled. A tear ran down her cheek like a raindrop in the desert. “It’s coming, Zeke,” she rasped. “In the sky.”

  “What do you mean?” The urgency of his words surprised him.

  “I see…” she trailed off. Her eyes flickered and closed.

  “Wake up,” he said loudly.

  She opened them again. “Terrible things. Storms of blood. Giant jaws. People screaming. Everywhere!”

  Horror etched the old woman’s face.

  “How? How does the Spiral get back?”

  “A portal is opened.”

  “Who? Who would be stupid enough to do that?” he cried.

  Lutz sat up. Zeke could see the effort was almost too much for her. She pulled him close and whispered in his ear. “You would.”

  Her hand slipped out of his grasp.

  “Me? Why me?” Zeke said.

  The gleam in her eyes ebbed away. She sighed and rolled over.

  “The future. Must be stopped,” she mumbled. Then she fell quiet and her breathing grew deeper.

  “She’s asleep,” said a voice. Isla the Incisor was standing in the doorway. How long had she been listening?

  “I have to know more,” Zeke protested.

  She frowned. “She’s dying, Zeke. What you want doesn’t matter.”

  “B-b-but—” he stammered.

  Isla pointed her rifle at him.

  “Out. N
ow!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Techno-Mart

  A woman barged into Zeke. For a split-second he tottered on his crutch.

  “Look where you’re going,” he snapped, but she was already gone.

  The crowds were too busy shopping to notice a boy with a fractured limb. He’d lost count of how many had collided into him. They poured through the maze of tents, busily hunting for bargains. The scene reminded Zeke of descriptions of ancient Morocco.

  A cold wind whistled through the market, flapping the canvases like sails. Traders stood in front of every tent, beckoning customers inside.

  “Hard drives, fresh from Earth!”

  “Domestomacs. Never wash another dish!”

  “Electrobooks. Buy one get one free!”

  Zeke sighed. An hour and he still hadn’t found what he needed. He approached one burly trader with an eye patch and black teeth. The man bowed low.

  “And what’s the young sir seeking today? I have the latest thing in diginoculars, able to spot a footprint on the Moon.”

  “I’m looking for medical supplies.”

  The man lost his dirty smile.

  “Try the Doc-Shop. Four tents down and two across.”

  Zeke cast an eye at the torrent of bodies and then down at his crutch.

  “Is there a way around all these people?” he asked.

  “Sure, if you don’t mind squeezing round the rear,” the trader replied, pointing over his shoulder.

  Zeke limped to the back and carefully stepped over the anchor pegs, into the shadowy gap between tents. He ventured deeper, trying to work out which tent would bring him out at the correct spot.

  Footsteps!

  He wheeled around. A figure was following. It dived out of sight.

  Zeke picked up his pace. He emerged at a small wigwam with a red cross emblazoned on its side. A blond woman sat in the entrance, sipping from a flask. Her breath stunk of Martian whisky.

  “Hello,” Zeke began.

  “What’s ailing you, lovey?”

  She was dressed in a grubby medical coat. Her skin had the weathered look that distinguished true-borns from Earthies. Sunlight on Mars was a shade weaker than Earth, but its radiation a lot harsher. Long term exposure wreaked havoc on the complexion.

  “I need nanotherapy,” Zeke said.

  “Come inside, lovey and we’ll do business.”

  “But have you got calcium-bonding nanomacs? I’ve got a—”

  “Broken leg? The crutch is a dead giveaway.”

  He nodded, ashamed of his injury.

  “Ah, don’t feel bad. Nurse Sandra will have you fixed in a jiffy.”

  She lifted up the flap. A smell of disinfectant wafted out.

  “I can do you a nice discount,” she went on.

  Zeke’s jaw dropped. At the Chasm nobody paid for medical treatment. It hadn’t dawned on him that the rest of Mars might be any different.

  “Discount? You mean, it’s not free?”

  Nurse Sandra doubled up with laughter. For a brief moment. Then the laughter died.

  “Scat!”

  “But I’m sick,” Zeke cried. “Please, help me.”

  She pushed him away.

  “Don’t waste my time. Scarper!”

  Zeke felt a bubble of desperation building inside his chest. He had to get his leg fixed.

  “Give the young man what he needs,” came a steely voice.

  It was Josiah Cain.

  “Where’s your magnocard?” Nurse Sandra hissed.

  “I don’t have e-money. I have this.”

  He fished a gold necklace out of his pocket.

  “Ooh, that’ll do nicely, Sir.”

  Nurse Sandra disappeared inside. There was a sound of rummaging through boxes and cartons. She then re-appeared, clutching a hyper spray.

  “Don’t waste your gold on me,” Zeke protested.

  Josiah laughed. “Done,” he said, swapping the gold for the medicine.

  “Follow the instructions,” Nurse Sandra said. “And lay down for a few hours.”

  “Come, Ptolemy Cusp is waiting for us,” Josiah said, offering Zeke his arm for support.

  Zeke shook his head and limped alongside. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Bless the Lord, son. Why ever not?”

  Zeke couldn’t think of a reason.

  “One of the Lord’s sacred duties, assisting the sick,” Josiah went on. “You shouldn’t be so reluctant to accept help.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes. “Why were you shadowing me?”

  Josiah stroked his beard. “I was searching, not shadowing.”

  “But that was you, wasn’t it, behind the tents?”

  “No siree.”

  Zeke glanced back. Nurse Sandra was hastily un-pegging her wigwam.

  “Eyes forward, son,” Josiah said.

  Zeke whirled around and smacked into an elderly man clutching a plasma screen. The sharp corner banged his forehead.

  “Ouch!”

  “Look where you’re going,” Josiah said to the man in a raised voice. “See how addicted they are to technology?” he continued in a softer voice. “Scrambling in the dirt. For what? Baubles. Lumps of alloy. Flashing lights.”

  A woman cut in front of them. “Updates! I need updates!” she shrieked.

  Zeke hated to admit it, but Josiah had a point.

  “People fill their lives with all this trickery. And it blinds them to what’s really important.”

  “Which is?” Zeke asked.

  Josiah slapped him on the back. “Spend some time at Edenville. You can make up your own mind.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask,” Zeke said. “Why did you accompany us from Edenville?”

  Josiah raised his eyebrows. “I’m responsible for you. The Lord dropped you into our hands for a reason.”

  “I told you, that wasn’t the Lord, that was a two-billion year old energy robot.”

  Josiah chuckled. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, son.”

  “Whatever,” Zeke replied.

  “But, to speak truthfully, I was also summoned.”

  “Summoned?” Zeke asked.

  “By Ptolemy Cusp. In point of fact, he was with me the day I found you outside that British barn.”

  Zeke stiffened. That sounded like a put-down. “You mean, the Beagle UK Research Station.”

  “Don’t take offence, Ezekiel. You’re Martian now. Leave national pride on Earth, were it belongs.”

  “So you’re part of the Unpros?”

  “That’s why we were meeting at the Beagle. A secret pow-wow.”

  “Edenville’s going to rebel?”

  Josiah appeared sad. “I told him we wouldn’t. The Marmish are a peaceful people.”

  Another passer-bye knocked into Zeke.

  “So, Cusp asked you here to talk again?”

  Josiah whistled. “You sure those chains are blocking your powers. It’s as if you’re reading my mind.”

  “I know how determined he can be,” Zeke replied.

  Josiah nodded.

  At that moment Zeke froze. A man was rushing towards them. A huge man covered in red tattoos. Ricasso!

  “Josiah!” Zeke cried.

  Ricasso exploded from the river of people like a crocodile. In one swift movement he shoved Josiah aside, scooped Zeke up over his shoulder and broke into a sprint. The crutch fell from Zeke’s hand. Desperately, he beat his fists against Ricasso’s back. It was as useless as attacking a statue!

  Ricasso ripped through the crowd. Anyone in his way got trampled. The more Zeke struggled, the harder Ricasso gripped him.

  Do something! Zeke’s mind screamed.

  Someone was running through the mass of people. Josiah! He leapt through
the gaps created by Ricasso, waving the crutch aloft.

  Great, he’s going to save me by prayer!

  Ricasso ran faster. So did Josiah, a blur among the shoppers. And Josiah was gaining. He reached out with the crutch. Nearer. Nearer still. He poked the crutch between Ricasso’ legs. The huge man tripped, tumbled, and crashed in a cloud of dust. Zeke rolled free.

  Ricasso jumped up and roared. He raised both fists above his head, ready to beat Josiah to pulp.

  He’ll kill him! Zeke thought.

  The preacher stood calmly as Ricasso lunged forward.

  Whack!

  Josiah made one solitary punch. A single punch. Ricasso crumpled into the dirt, blood spurting from his nose. Josiah booted him in the stomach for good measure, but he was out cold.

  Josiah heaved Zeke to his feet and handed him the crutch. Then he straightened his hat and said, “That is one helluva lost sheep.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Biosphere One

  “But Ricasso was dead!” Zeke protested.

  Cusp was reclining on his throne, an oriental teak chair carved with rockets and dragons. Zeke was sitting beside him, bad leg resting on a stool. Bartie kneeled at their feet. Josiah had gone to his room to do some ‘repenting’.

  They were at Cusp’s courtroom, inside Biosphere One. There were five biospheres in Yuri Gagarin Freetown, all like gigantic golf balls. The Russians built them two centuries before as research stations. Recently, the biospheres were awarded Martian Heritage Status.

  Pin-mei and Isla were locked in combat. Isla was throwing the tiny Chinese girl around a judo mat in the centre of the room.

  “Come at me!” Isla commanded.

  Pin-mei clenched her fists, her round face a picture of determination. She bellowed a Mandarin war cry and charged. Isla sidestepped and grabbed Pin’s waist. In a split-second Isla heaved her over her hip. Pin-mei landed on the mat

  Zeke held his breath. Was she okay?

  Pin-mei sat up, laughing her head off.

  “My turn!” she cried.

  This time Isla ran at Pin-mei, baring her teeth with the ferocity of a rabid dog. But Pin-mei executed a perfect replica of the move. Now she stepped back, grabbed the much taller woman and yanked across the hip. Isla toppled. Thud!

 

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