The Particle Beast

by Ian C Douglas

  Zeke followed the other first years into the class. Orions, Saturns and other model rockets dangled from the ceiling. Knimble kept them as examples of ancient space travel. Clunky, expensive and dangerous, humanity was glad to see the back of them.

  Zeke took a seat at the rear of the class, next to Scuff.

  “Didn’t expect to see you, bro.”

  “Might as well pass some time here,” Zeke replied.

  Scuff gave him a sad look, but said nothing. Zeke glanced around for Pin-mei but she was absent. Unusual. She took her studies very seriously. Was she still upset about this thing with Justice? Zeke shrugged and turned his attention to the lesson. Two metal sheets were standing in front of the plasma board, the size and shape of doors.

  Knimble waved his magnopad in the air. It whirred as it took the class register, scanning every DNA signature in the room. A lot quicker than name taking.

  Knimble stroked his goatee a few times and launched into the lesson.

  “Observe this strip of aluminium.”

  He tapped the first metal sheet, like a conjuror about to perform a trick.

  “Solid metal. Two metres tall. One metre wide. One centimetre thick. Anyone care to walk through it?”

  A few of the students tittered.

  “Impossible,” remarked Dedy, the Indonesian student.

  “Really, mate?” Knimble replied, his faraway eyes twinkling.

  He rotated the sheet till it was facing him, and backed off a few paces. Then, he strode purposefully towards the aluminium—and passed right through it as if it wasn’t there!

  The entire class cooed.

  Knimble lifted up his hands. “Ta-dah!”

  More laughter.

  “But how did I do it, huh?”

  Aku raised her hand. She was from Ghana, with cropped stubbly hair and big soulful eyes. “A form of translocation, Sir?”

  Knimble beamed at her. “Yep, you’ve aced it.”

  “Woah!” Scuff cried, wide-eyed. “You rearranged your molecules to slip between the metal molecules? That’s awesome.”

  Knimble’s grin transformed to a pitying smile. “A common misconception. But think of the gazillions of molecules in your body. That would need a greater brain power than the human. Instead, I used FTT. Finely Tuned Translocation. I imagined myself leaving our atomic reality this side of the aluminium. And returning on the opposite side. No different to me translocating from here to the staff room and back again. Only on a much narrower scale. Here.”

  Knimble pushed his arm clear through the sheet up to his elbow.

  For a moment, Zeke forgot to breath. It was miraculous. Surely Knimble’s arm should be cut off, like a guillotine? Yet there it was, emerging from solid metal with wriggling fingers. A twinge of regret gnawed at Zeke’s heart. He was walking away from the college of gods.

  “So the atoms in my arm are not inside the aluminium. That section of my flesh and bone is currently outside our universe. I’m reaching out and back in again.”

  Knimble slowly withdrew his arm.

  “It’s easy when you know how. But get it wrong and you’ll be ‘armless’.”

  Knimble chuckled at his own joke.

  “What’s the second sheet one for?” Scuff asked.

  The teacher cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Barnum.”

  Knimble turned the second darker sheet away from the students. Once again he stepped back. He burst into movement, walking towards the second sheet at full speed. Wham! Knimble crashed into the sheet. It reverberated like a gong while Knimble fell backwards.

  Zeke winced. That was quite some collision. Knimble struggled to his feet, his nose an ugly red.

  “Strewth,” he gasped, rubbing the unfortunate nose. “I tried to translocate through that sheet, just like the first one. So why did I fail?”

  Juanita Almera threw up her hand.

  “Does that sheet have very dense molecules?”

  “Not at all, young lady,” Knimble replied. A drop of blood trickled from his nostril.

  Murmurs flowed around the room but nobody ventured an answer.

  “This second sheet is made of iron,” Knimble said. “Does that help?”

  Scuff stirred in his seat, eager to redeem himself after his earlier mistake. “Iron can be magnetic. Even though it’s not generating a magnetic field, it has magnetic properties. These would cancel out your psychic power.”

  “Bonzer!” Knimble exclaimed, fishing a tissue from the folds of his teacher’s robes.

  “Sir,” Zeke asked, “Aren’t there small magnetic fields scattered across Mars. Caused by heavy iron deposits in the soil. I found one once and my powers stopped till I was clear of it.”

  Knimble nodded, pressing the tissue to his nose.

  “Depends how much iron is in the rock. It has to be very high before it creates a noticeable magnetic field. However, a much lower concentration would stop you translocating. Take this iron sheet. It’s right here, without affecting our abilities. But we can’t translocate through it. As you saw. Its magnetic electrons form a barrier. You could sit next to a slab of iron ore and nothing would happen. But if the concentration was rich enough, you’d not be able to translocate through it.”

  “Like we’re ever going to need to know that,” Scuff muttered, still grumpy from his wrong answer.

  Blood spurted from Knimble’s wound.

  “Homework, write up today’s little demonstration. Now I’m off to the Medical Facility. G’day.”

  And Knimble vanished, leaving the floor spotted with blood drops.

  Scuff leaned over towards Zeke. “Fancy the Cranny? It might be our last time to share a moonshake.”

  Zeke looked at his shoes. “Sorry, Scuff. It’s time to pack.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Zeke’s Room

  The suitcase floated up. The suitcase floated down .

  Zeke yawned. He had three days to kill before leaving for the Space Catapult. So he was sitting on his bed, bored to hell. He telekinetically raised and lowered the case again.

  The buzzer rang. He couldn’t be bothered to peer through the spy-hole.

  “Open,” he said to the door.

  Mariner Alistair Knimble entered. “G’day there.”

  Zeke smiled. Knimble’s nose was a little swollen. Then Zeke saw his sombre expression and the smile waned.

  “Anything wrong, Sir?”

  “Kinda. We just got news from Yuri-Gagarin Freetown.”

  Zeke looked at him blankly. “Lutz Senior passed away.”

  “Oh,” Zeke said. A darkness passed through him.

  Knimble sat down. “She slipped away quietly. No pain or discomfort.”

  Zeke didn’t know what to say. After a pause he said, “That’s good.”

  “That’s life, I’m afraid. People get old,” Knimble said, more to himself. His voice sounded croaky. Zeke wondered what the Mariner was really thinking.

  “I guess so,” Zeke replied. The fact that everyone dies suddenly seemed rather cruel. But nobody could change that, anymore than they could stop the planets from spinning .

  Knimble moved the chair nearer. “I understand she made one final prophecy. To you.”

  Zeke shivered. He didn’t want to dwell on Lutz’s final words. Surely, the ravings of a sick mind. He kept telling himself she was wrong.

  “So what did the old goose say, mate?”

  Zeke gazed into those electric blue eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

  Knimble grimaced. “Don’t fib, Hailey. I can read your thoughts like text messages.”

  Zeke’s back stiffened. “Unsolicited telepathy is illegal.”

  “Correction. It’s against the Mariners’ Code of Conduct. But it’s not a crime. And as a teacher, I’m allowed to browse your brainwaves. As long
there’s good cause.” His voice oozed confidence.

  Zeke flushed redder than a Martian beetroot. “Try it,” he snapped.

  A sudden image of bricks sprang into Zeke’s mind. His forehead tingled, as if hardening into concrete.

  Knimble rolled his eyes in amusement. He focused on Zeke’s head. His cocky expression gave way to concentration. Then a frown. His faraway eyes began to glow. They grew brighter.

  Zeke felt imaginary fingers flicking through the contents of his mind. But every synapse they examined was as blank as copy paper. Sparks sizzled around Knimble’s shining eyes. He was sweating.

  “Open up, mate, I’m on your side,” he cried.

  “Gkngza ytran ii,” Zeke replied, Hesperian words too insulting to be translated.

  Knimble threw up his hands. “Enough!”

  His sockets dimmed, revealing red eyelids. He laughed uneasily. “Sorry mate, didn’t mean to go off the deep end. Never could resist a dare.”

  “Alright,” Zeke said, a little angry.

  “Your firewall was gobsmacking! Where’d you learn a trick like that?”

  Zeke shrugged. “Don’t know, I just do.”

  Knimble stroked his beard. “And why so secretive about Lutz Four?”

  “She didn’t say anything that made sense, Sir,” Zeke said. “May I ask why you want to know?”

  “I’m not a complete dipstick,” Knimble replied. “First you and your little mates go walkabout up at Noctis Labyrinthis. And one of them still hasn’t come back.”

  Zeke stared intensely at the floor.

  “Then we rescue you and that wrong’un Crawley in a cavern full of floating rocks. Seconds before the whole place is blown up, according to you, by a Martian bomb.”

  “Hesperian,” Zeke said softly. “Not Martian.”

  “Meanwhile, Jimmy Swallow goes totally whacko, is admitted to the mental hospital where he vanishes without trace. Nothing but a scattering of dust in his cell.”

  Zeke chewed on his thumb. Why dust?

  Knimble continued, “You’re involved in something and I’m trying to help.”

  “Three days from now, Sir, and I’m not involved in anything.”

  “I get it, you’ll jaunt off to the galactic outback. But what about the rest us, down here on the Little Pumpkin?”

  “Sir?”

  “Is there any danger we need to know about?”

  Zeke looked at his feet. None of the adults knew of the Spiral’s existence. He liked it that way. Zeke figured the more folk knew about the Spiral, the more might go looking for it. He lifted his head to face Knimble’s searchlight stare.

  “Who knows what Hesperian technology might be inside the pocket universe. As long as it’s out of reach, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Knimble held Zeke’s gaze for a moment. “Alright. But what about this dust devil? You say it’s out to get you.”

  Zeke scratched his blue locks. “I’ve no idea where he came from. He just seemed to have a grudge against me. But we haven’t seen him since.”

  “Maybe it’s as well you’re leaving Mars.”

  Zeke nodded.

  Knimble picked up a leather bound journal lying on the desk.

  “The Beagle UK Research Station Logbook 2090,” he read off the cover. “And you really think this Cratan creature is one of the early astronauts? Mutated out of recognition?”

  “Yes, Sir. And if he could be made to remember his identity, I believe he could reveal where the rest of the crew are.”

  Knimble whistled. “Surely they must be long dead”

  “But the Cratan’s alive. Why not them?”

  “Why not indeed,” Knimble said, wide-eyed,

  “I’m convinced that the journal contains clues. That’s why I’m giving it to Scuff. He’s going to go through it, see if he can solve the mystery. So when I return we can see what we can do.”

  “If you return,” Knimble remarked quietly.

  Zeke pursed his lips. Did Knimble know more than he was letting on? Why none of the deep space trips ever returned. Were they all in on it? Lutz and every Mariner in the school? Zeke focussed on Knimble’s farseeing eyes. He stared deeper, into their intense blueness.

  An image drifted into Zeke’s mind. Planet Earth, burning, collapsing, crumbling. And then, a sea of dead bodies. Every corpse wore the white uniform of the pilot Mariners.

  “Hey, stop it!” Knimble shouted.

  The image evaporated. Zeke shook himself as though waking from a trance.

  “Now who’s breaking the Code?”

  “Sorry, Sir, I don’t get you.”

  Knimble stared at him, open-mouthed, and said, “Oh, nothing mate.” He leapt to his feet. “Bon voyage and all that, I’ll miss you,” he garbled, and dashed from the room.

  Zeke yawned and reached for his magnopad. Maybe a few games of solitaire would pass the time.

  Zeke!

  He jumped to his feet and wildly looked around his room. It sounded like Scuff but where was he?

  Zeke!

  Oh, it was Scuff’s thoughts, not his voice. T-mail. But the desperation was unmistakeable.

  “Where are you?”

  The Cranny.

  Zeke didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward. Let go, he thought. Let go of the room, of its atoms, of its sub-atomic particles. Slip the tether of reality. Outside!

  The second step plunged him into darkness. A void that was infinite, like the cosmos. At the same time it was small, no bigger than a closet. Endless ringing poured through his ears. The music of the spheres. Atoms singing in the fathomless night. The murmuring tide of existence.

  Zeke pictured the Cranny cafeteria. Sure enough, shapes formed out the blackness. Chairs, tables, macs. The world was reborn.

  His appearance startled Scuff who was balancing on a barstool.

  “Take the quantum shortcut, why don’t you?”

  “Scuff! What is it?”

  Scuff paled.

  “It’s Pin. She’s run away.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Cranny Cafeteria

  Zeke collapsed onto a bar stool. “This is about Justice, right?”

  Scuff nodded.

  “Did she leave a note?”

  “Nope.”

  Scuff pointed over Zeke’s shoulder. A group of fifth years sat clustered around the panoramic window. They laughed and guzzled glasses of craterade. One huge, oafish boy with a face like a Neanderthal waved back.

  “Drufus Slatts!” Zeke groaned.

  Drufus was a farm boy from Idaho with a fondness for gambling. Although not a model student he was good at one thing. Translocation. He often hired out his services to pay for trips to the Tithonium casino.

  “I just found him counting his M-dollars and he told me all about it,” Scuff explained.

  Zeke buried his face in his hands.

  “She’s walking into a death trap. Enki is bound to be there.”

  “No, bro. Drufus didn’t take her to the mine.”

  Zeke looked through his fingers.

  “Drufus took her to Edenville.”

  “Why on Mars would she go there?” Zeke asked.

  Scuff hesitated. “To collect Bartie Cain.”

  Zeke reddened. “I should have guessed. I bet this is all his doing.”

  Scuff sighed. “Bro, it’s most certainly not. Pin emailed him on the Mars-Wide-Web. She asked him for help. According to Drufus.”

  Zeke glowered. Was it his fault? He’d refused to help Pin-mei, so she’d turned to Bartie. But what use was a non-psychic anyway? Prayers wouldn’t stop a particle beast.

  “Drufus left them there. Pin didn’t have enough cash for another mind-leap.”

  Zeke said nothing.

  “Come on. Let’s translocate over befor
e it’s too late,” Scuff added.

  Zeke chewed on his knuckle.

  “Zeke?” Now Scuff flushed. “You’re not abandoning her, are you? Your honorary Martian sister and all that jazz?”

  Zeke slammed his fist on the tabletop. “I don’t know what to do!”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Scuff replied crossly.

  Zeke took a deep breath. “Remember Enki needs a key to enter the citadel. One thing he doesn’t have?”

  Scuff nodded.

  “And the key is a psychic brain,” Zeke continued.

  “Sure. Like the Infinity Trap.”

  “Yes. Plus the codes, but Enki could work those out.”

  “So what are you waiting for? Let’s get Pin before she reaches the mine.”

  Zeke lowered his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “It’s Lutz. The old one. She died today.”

  “Oh? What’s that got to do with anything?” Scuff asked.

  “She gave me a prophecy. That it would be me who opened the way for the Spiral.”

  Scuff lost the glow from his cheeks. “How?”

  Zeke shrugged. “That’s all she said. But all the more reason for me to leave Mars. So it can never happen.”

  For a moment neither of them spoke.

  “Deathbed prophecies are considered pretty accurate,” Scuff remarked, rubbing his chin. “But this sounds a tad vague. Maybe she was delirious?”

  “Is it worth the risk? If the Spiral got into our universe it would mean the end. Everyone would die.”

  “Bro, the future isn’t fixed. That’s one thing the pre-cogs always say. Now you’re forewarned and forearmed.”

  Zeke ran his fingers through his blue hair. There was something else. Supposing he missed the rendezvous with Dayo?

  “You’re worried about missing your free ride to Alpha Cephei?”

  “Are you scanning my synapses?” Zeke replied with a scowl.

  “Nope, bro. I just know how my best bud works.”