The Particle Beast

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The Particle Beast Page 11

by Ian C Douglas


  “It’s the chance of a lifetime.”

  Scuff twiddled his fingers. “Sure. But Pin-mei’s in danger. That trumps everything.”

  “I guess so.” Zeke didn’t mean to sound reluctant, but he did.

  “And you got a few days. The sooner we go, the sooner we get back.”

  “I’ve just got this horrible feeling. If I go, I’ll never make it to the Space Catapult.”

  Scuff placed his hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “Bro, if you miss the Dayo express, I’ll rent a far-ship for you.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly. That would cost millions.”

  “What’s the point of having a rich Daddy if you don’t splash the cash now and again.”

  “Even your Dad’s not that well off.”

  Scuff chuckled. “Maybe, but anyways, lets vamoose.”

  Zeke’s head swam. Events were spinning faster and faster. But he had to hang onto one thing. Like Scuff said, Pin-mei’s safety trumped everything.

  “Shouldn’t we prepare first?”

  Scuff scratched his chin. “Nope. We’re going to Edenville. How tough can it be?”

  “A colony without technology?”

  A wobble passed through the folds of Scuff’s fat.

  “I’ll steel myself then,” he said, only half-joking.

  Zeke glanced around the cafeteria. “I’ll be back in no time. Definitely.”

  Sure! said his inner voice.

  They stood up and Zeke put his arm on Scuff’s shoulder. “Edenville. Bricks and ponies,” he mumbled, conjuring up memories in his mind’s eye.

  The Cranny snuffed out like a candle.

  The darkness kindled with stars. Countless blue sparks, filling the sky with cold fire. Zeke traced Cassiopeia and then Cepheus. It was hard to believe his father was up there, somewhere.

  “Wow,” Scuff said.

  Zeke looked at the sleeping Edenville. Red brick igloos panned out around them. A wind blew down from the ravines, moaning like a ghost. The paths were deserted.

  “Where are they all?” Scuff asked.

  “In bed,” Zeke replied. “They rise with the sun and sleep when it sets.”

  “Sheesh, whatever for?”

  Zeke gestured at the rosy glow in a nearby window. “No tech, remember? Oil lamps instead of photon bulbs.”

  “I just don’t get it,” Scuff remarked. He pulled his collar up and rubbed his hands. The Martian night was as chilly as ever.

  “Is she here?” Zeke asked.

  The blue in Scuff’s irises gleamed. “Nope,” he said at last.

  Zeke cursed. “What about Bartie, can you pick him up?”

  “I’ve never met Bartie. How would I know his brainwaves from John Doe’s?”

  “Come on, then,” Zeke said.

  They walked through the homes until they found Cain’s. Zeke banged on the front door.

  “Where do they get this tin from?” Scuff asked, examining the door.

  “Recycled scrap. Some of it dates back to the first landings.”

  The door flew open. It was Josiah Cain, in a cotton nightshirt and his black preacher’s hat.

  “What in the Lord’s name—”

  “I’m very sorry to disturb you, Sir,” Zeke said.

  Josiah grabbed Zeke in a huge bear hug, lifting him clean off the ground.

  “You’ve come back to us. Praise the Lord.”

  He dragged Zeke inside, with Scuff on their heels. Josiah’s wife sat in a rocking chair beside the hearth. She wore a nightgown and was darning socks. The log fire crackled with heat.

  “I told you, Mary, I said young Ezekiel would return to the fold.”

  Zeke and Scuff traded uneasy glances. How would they break the news?

  Zeke cleared his throat. “Sorry, but it’s not like that. We’re here about Pin. And Bartie.”

  The smiles died on Josiah and Mary’s lips. Before Zeke could spit out another word, Mary dashed off to the bedrooms.

  “Brother Josiah?”

  A hairy man with arms like tree trunks stood in the doorway. The blacksmith.

  “Forgive me for coming at this hour.”

  Mary burst back into the room, shaking her head. There were tears in her eyes.

  “I thought you should know,” the blacksmith went on. “Two of the ponies are missing.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Earth’s Orbit

  Sunlight bloomed on the horizon. The glistening Pacific emerged from the dark. A vast, shining ocean of sapphire. Clouds as big as countries drifted overhead. Land masses swung into view. The green tapestries of Asia. Zeke recognised Sumatra, the Malay peninsula, the Mekong Delta. Singapore gleamed like an electric diamond.

  He was high above the Earth. Watching.

  Something was happening. Something wrong. The planet shuddered. A tsunami rippled across the Pacific and hit China. It kept going, and mountains toppled in its wake.

  The colour drained away. Continents broke apart. The Earth imploded, collapsing into its own core. It hissed as gigantic geysers of lava ruptured the crust. Zeke heard one telepathic scream as humanity cried out to be saved. Then silence, as the inferno snuffed out all life. Dead.

  Zeke struggled to escape.

  “Bro?”

  “The apocalypse quark.”

  “Excuse me, bro?”

  Zeke was sitting in Mary’s rocking chair. The feeble Martian dawn seeped through the windows. A coffee pot was boiling on the log fire.

  “Let me get you a drink,” said Scuff. He donned oven gloves and poured two beakers of coffee. The stench of the beans chased the fog from Zeke’s head.

  “That sounded one helluva dream.”

  “Huh?” Zeke mumbled.

  “You were kicking like a dog with night tremors.”

  “Was I?” Zeke said, and sipped the coffee.

  The dream faded. He tried to recall the details. An image of burning cities flitted through his mind and vanished.

  “Where are they all?” he asked, sitting forward.

  “Josiah’s saddled up and galloped off,” Scuff said. “And Mary took her daughters to the chapel to pray.”

  “Fat use that’ll be,” Zeke replied. His voice was hostile.

  Scuff pushed out his bottom lip. “Dunno, isn’t the Mariners’ creed that thought is the most powerful force in the universe?”

  “I used to pray every night for my dad to come home. You know how that turned out,” Zeke replied with a stony face.

  Scuff rubbed his chin. “I think I prayed once. For my old man to run off and leave us.”

  Their eyes met and both boys laughed.

  “So what do we do now, smart stuff?” Scuff asked.

  Zeke shrugged his shoulders. “You’re the A plus telepathy student. Can’t you scan for Pin?”

  “Track down a single brainwave in this huge wilderness? I’m not that good, Zeke. Not yet.”

  Zeke sipped the bitter coffee.

  “I think we should inform the teachers,” Scuff added.

  “How? The only long distance communication round here is a couple of tin cans on a string.”

  “I told you the Marmish were nuts. But we ought go back to the Chasm.”

  Zeke scowled. “And get clapped in detention? I don’t have the time. It’s just two days now till the rendezvous.”

  “Can’t Dayo wait for you?”

  “Not much,” Zeke explained. “Just another three days after that before he reports to Earth.”

  Another image flitted through his mind’s eye. Earth, cracked open like an egg and in flames. It passed.

  “So…?” Scuff said.

  Zeke stood up. “We go to the mine and find her. It’s the only way.”

  “Translocation?”

  Z
eke frowned. “That’s hard. I’ve never been there or seen any photos. I’ve got nothing to visualise.”

  Scuff fished his magnopad out of his pocket. He fiddled with the controls. “Typical Marmish! No signal.”

  “You’re trying to bring up a map?”

  Scuff nodded, sighed, and put the pad away. “Looks like the best option is back to the school and do some research.”

  Zeke wrung his hands. “No! We’ll get bogged down by the teachers.”

  “Hey, we can’t walk there! It must be a good hundred kilometres”

  Zeke clapped his hands together in a moment of inspiration. “Why walk when you can ride?”

  Scuff flashed him a look of cold dread. “I ain’t no cowboy!”

  “We’ve flown an autogyro and blasted a gravscooter into the stratosphere. How hard can hooves be?”

  “Very,” Scuff remarked, and poked out his tongue.

  The horses galloped across the northern plain of the Melas Chasma. Long plumes of dust trailed behind them.

  Zeke sat upright, bouncing up and down on the saddle. His mother sent him once to a stable for lessons. He gave up after three weeks; it wasn’t his thing. But in that time he’d mastered the basics.

  Scuff was to his left, crouched over the reins, white with terror.

  “Your posture’s all wrong. You’ll get sore,” Zeke hollered across.

  Scuff was too overwhelmed to reply. It was all he could do not to fall off.

  Good thing Red Sugar is so docile, Zeke thought. Red Sugar was a mustang, chestnut brown with a white underbelly. The perfect steed for beginners.

  His horse was called Serendipity. She was a Friesian mare, with a coat as glossy as polished jet. Zeke leaned forward and breathed in her mane. Hay and sweaty fur. The only word to describe it was ‘earthy’. And it was exactly the kind of smell he associated with Earth. Nothing like it came from Mars.

  Zeke studied the landscape. Great ash dunes rose to the south. Spires of basalt loomed ahead. Long before life spawned on Earth, some cataclysm had rocked Mars from pole to pole. The equator split open like an overripe peach and the Valley was born. But the spires had survived that disaster. Centuries passed as the wind sculpted them into bizarre shapes. Zeke looked at them and saw cathedrals and castles. It was easy to imagine monsters lurking there.

  “Argh!”

  “Whoa,” Zeke cried, and tugged on the reins. Serendipity slowed to a graceful halt.

  Red Sugar galloped on, her saddle empty. Scuff lay in the dust, his face caked in grey.

  “I have had enough. Translocate me back to the school. Now!”

  “Are you hurt?” Zeke asked, pulling up alongside his friend.

  “Only my butt,” Scuff muttered. “And maybe my pride.”

  Zeke dismounted, grabbed Scuff’s hand and yanked him to his feet. Red Sugar trotted back and nuzzled Scuff’s chest.

  A smile broke on Scuff’s scowling features. “Okay, I’ll give it another go.” He brushed the dust from his blond locks.

  Red Sugar neighed. And then again. Serendipity joined in. Their neighing grew louder. Both ponies shook their heads and twitched their tails. They shifted anxiously from foot to foot. Red Sugar suddenly reared up, kicking her forelegs. Serendipity did the same.

  “Something sure as hell’s spooking them,” Scuff remarked.

  Zeke grabbed Serendipity’s reins. But she was bucking so hard he couldn’t hold on.

  Scuff peered into the distance. “What’s that?”

  Red Sugar let out a terrified whinny.

  “Look, Zeke. There,” Scuff said, pointing.

  At that moment the horses bolted.

  “Come back!” Scuff caterwauled after them.

  A lump of imaginary ice slid down Zeke’s spine. A dust devil was striding purposefully towards them. The whirlwind grew thicker. In its core the spinning grains of sand glowed and formed a figure.

  “Quick!” Zeke shouted, and threw his arms around Scuff. He closed his eyes and pictured the Chasm school. It was the first image to pop into his panicking brain. Nothing happened. Zeke opened his eyes again to see Scuff’s horrified face.

  Zeke’s mind raced. His translocation powers weren’t working. They were trapped! He didn’t want Scuff to get caught by the devil.

  “Zeke—”

  Before Scuff could spit out his words, Zeke gave him a hard push. Scuff tumbled over. Zeke broke into a sprint, running as fast as he could. He glanced over his shoulder. The dust devil was on his heels. With every step it coasted a couple of metres nearer.

  “Mnthax! Mnthax!” he hollered in Hesperian.

  The creature ignored his pleas to stop. It reached out its arms of swirling dust.

  “No, no, no!” Zeke screamed.

  It lurched forward and smothered him. Sand gnawed at his skin, like a plague of mosquitoes. He lost his footing and fell into the chaos.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  In a High Place

  Freezing air clawed at Zeke’s lungs. Everything was a blur. As his eyes focused he realised he was on a ledge. A basalt cliff towered over him.

  “Oh, great,” he remarked. There was only one possible explanation. He was stranded halfway up one of the canyon walls.

  Zeke shuffled towards the edge and peered over. The sheer drop to the valley below was easily five kilometres. In the low gravity, it would take a minute of falling before you hit the ground. But you’d still burst like a water balloon.

  Dizziness overwhelmed him and he rolled back. Where was the dust devil? Why hadn’t his translocation worked?

  Zeke lay there for a while, gathering his energy. But his hands were turning pink. The coldness would kill him if he stayed there too long. He staggered to his feet. His head swam again and he steadied himself against the rock face. A vast expanse of sky surrounded him.

  The ledge petered out to the left. On the right it disappeared around a bend.

  “The Chasm. Take me back to the Chasm,” Zeke said, and closed his eyes. He opened them to find he was still perched high above Mariner’s Valley. He stomped his foot. A few centimetres of the ledge crumbled.

  Zeke gulped. Apparently, the Dust Devil had tampered with his powers. But why had it brought him here?

  A soft murmur came from beyond the bend. Zeke knew exactly what was making that noise. He had no desire to see the Dust Devil again. On the other hand, there was no way of getting down. Zeke reminded himself that he had faced a dust devil before and lived. Maybe the same one? His only option was to confront it.

  Zeke inched slowly along the narrow path. The footing was treacherous. He looked down. The valley floor seemed so distant, a faraway sea of pale cinders. For a third time, nausea washed through him. He let it pass, then continued, hands pressed against the cliff. At the bend, the path reduced to a sliver. It was barely wider than his feet.

  “I can’t stay up here forever,” he muttered.

  Zeke swung round so his chest was against the wall. He took a deep breath of the thin air, and stepped onto the sliver. Then another footstep. And another. He gripped onto protrusions in the rock.

  One slip now and you’re doomed, his inner voice warned. Thanks, I know that! his thoughts replied.

  The ledge behind him vanished from view as he slowly crept forward.

  Supposing there is no ledge in front?

  Well, then Scuff and Pin would be on their own. Images of them stranded in the wilderness flitted through his imagination. And what of his dad? He would never know Zeke died looking for him.

  I’m NOT dying up here.

  A new ledge stretched in front of him, leading up to an outcrop. A wedge of rock that jutted out over the valley. The Dust Devil stood, spinning, at the brink. Zeke glanced down. Thankfully, the ledge grew sturdier. But as he shifted his weight onto his left foot, the rock behind cracked and s
plintered.

  No!

  He leapt. Fragments fell away and clattered down the cliff side.

  Zeke let out a deep sigh. Despite the chill he was soaking in sweat. But the main thing was he lived! And now to confront his kidnapper.

  He walked, carefully, up to the devil.

  “Kshnmlnwa!”

  The creature gazed out across Mariners Valley and ignored him. Zeke studied it closely. There were two parts. An outer funnel spiralling endlessly like a tornado. Inside was the spinning, glowing humanoid form. But this devil differed from the first. This one had a face. The gusting sand formed crude features.

  Zeke stroked his chin. There was something familiar about the face, the high brow, the long nose, the thick lips. Hadn’t he seen it before somewhere?

  “Kshnmlnwa!”

  The devil’s head turned, without moving its squat neck. Zeke’s skin crawled. Still it said nothing.

  Zeke cleared his mind. The Hesperian language bubbled up from his subconscious.

  “Why have you brought me here?” he asked in the alien tongue.

  “This place is high.”

  Zeke swallowed hard. That wasn’t exactly a reassuring answer.

  “What have you done to, um, my powers?”

  There was no word for ‘translocation’ in Hesperian.

  “Generating a magnetic field.”

  Well, that was one riddle solved.

  “I see. And why are you so angry with me, anyway?”

  “You hurt me.”

  Zeke stiffened. What on Mars was it talking about?

  The devil suddenly flung back its swirling arms. It opened its mouth and let out a piercing squeal. The high-pitched cry echoed across the canyon. Despite himself, Zeke glanced over the edge. It would be so easy for the devil to toss him to his doom. His heart pumped faster.

  “How?” he implored.

  “Don’t remember. Awoke with one purpose. Destroy you.”

  Zeke rubbed his brow. This was all so messed up. And he really didn’t need it right now. Maybe he should change the subject.

  “You awoke in a city. The city of my kind?”

  “Yes.”

  Mars only had one city. Tithonium Central.

  “So where were you before that?”

 

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