by Casey Wyatt
~ * * * ~
Mars, how I hate thee, let me count the ways.
Sleep had healed the bangs and bruises from the landing. With rest came wide-eyed clarity. The situation still sucked. The stark tiny room with a fold-out camp cot was a long way from my cozy bed back on Earth. I missed the birds and the gentle breezes that rolled off the lake. All I could hear was the sound of equipment banging, shouts, and the occasional high pitched wind gust.
I sniffed the air. It was dry and fresh. Obviously no air pollution on Mars. Not yet anyway. Give it time. Vampires were no more virtuous than our human brethren. Heck, we started off life as humans. Even though our bodies never aged and hearts didn’t beat, we were essentially the same people we used to be, except older, more careworn, and, depending on the person, wiser. At least I hoped I was wiser than I had been a hundred years ago.
I rolled off the cot and stretched out my muscles. I didn’t need to dress because my clothes were still on. One look at my tattered jumpsuit sent me searching my Spartan quarters for fresh clothes.
The foot locker at the end of my cot contained a dozen jumpsuits and other clothing essentials. Each in my size too. I wondered if that was the zombie… no Louis’ doing. Time to let go of the prejudice and think of him as an equal.
Ian was right. We didn’t have time to worry about Earth based alliances. Or feuds.
There was a metallic rap on my door.
“Ms. Cordial, the morning briefing is about to begin,” Louis said.
I stepped out into the hallway. “Lead the way.” See, I could be officious when I wanted too. Yup, this was the new me. Forward facing, no more whining. I could do this.
I followed Louis through the maze of tubular hallways. The layout wasn’t nearly as confusing as the ship.
“How long have you been here, Louis?”
“Oh, about six months or so. We were dropped, much like you were, along with equipment and supplies to create the domes. We’re still missing a few of the cargo crates. We have small team combing the planet looking for them. You see, the trajectory must have gone awry…”
Blah, blah, blah was all I heard, but the gist to me was someone f-ed up the math and the boxes didn’t land where they should have. When I screened out the techno-babble, I was able to understand the gist of the situation.
“Have all of my family arrived?”
“Almost. There is one more drop scheduled today. In about an hour.” Louis held open a door. “Ladies first.”
A zombie with manners. Who would have thought? The mess hall was packed. Every seat was filled: my family, Ian’s rogues, revenants and zombies. Prior and Ian stood by a podium in the front of the room.
Ah, hell. I was not good at making speeches. If I had to shake my ass and remove my clothes, no problem. But I doubt Prior would appreciate a strip tease act.
Ian intercepted me before I reached the pedestal and handed me papers. “Here’s what you have to do. Greet everyone, read the schedule of events and give out work assignments. After, there’s a briefing with a few key persons.”
I know Ian was trying to help me out, but I resented the implication I needed someone to tell me what to do. My back stiffened. I smiled politely, reminding myself any displays of temper in front of the colony would be a bad idea.
“Thank you, Ian.” I marched over to the podium with way more confidence than I actually felt. After glancing at the papers, I spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Good day, everyone.”
They responded in kind. So far, so good. “I’m glad to see everyone made it to the surface in one piece.” The zombies laughed. For some reason, this was humorous to them. “Here are today’s scheduled events . . .”
Everything went smoothly until I completed the work assignments.
Pearl stood up and loudly demanded, “Why are you up there? Where is Jonathan?”
Ian cursed behind me. I inched down the mental barrier enough to find my bond with her, then filled my voice with compulsion. “Pearl, sit back down in your chair.”
She dropped into her seat like her ass was made of lead. The members of my family looked scared as they realized what was happening.
“Silence. Please,” I said, stepping in front to the podium, minimizing the distance between us. “Jonathan gave his life so we could escape. Thalia killed him.”
Gasps of horror swept around the room. Anger followed in equal measure. I watched Pearl carefully, ready to smack her down if she sassed me. Her bottom lip quivered, but she remained silent.
“He passed the family bond to me. I know I may be an unusual choice for the job, but I took care of everyone in the club, didn’t I?” There were murmurs of agreement and some nods of the head. “Jonathan trusted me to care for you. We need to make this colony work. This is a chance for us to start a new life. I suggest you make the best of it. Now off to work.”
The group slowly filtered out of the room, muttering between them. Right before Pearl left she flashed a glance at Trent. He smiled back. Interesting.
“Cherry. Nice job. A bit unconventional,” Ian said. “Good recovery at the end.”
Again, with the assumption I couldn’t do anything for myself. “Ian, I know you’re trying to help me, but I can make my own mistakes just fine.”
Ian’s blue eyes narrowed, taking my measure. “You can’t afford to make mistakes here.”
Louis interrupted before we could start a full blown argument. “Right this way, please.” He ushered us to a small meeting room behind the mess hall.
Prior already sat at the head of the table. He wanted to play that game, did he? I sat on the opposite end. Ian took the chair on my right hand side. Louis sat to my left. The final person to join us was a female revenant. I leaned forward for a closer look-see. Rarely seen in public, revenant females were supposedly rare and highly valued. Why they’d be willing to sacrifice a precious female on the altar of Mars was beyond me.
She sat next to Prior, declaring she was in his camp. So much for female solidarity.
“Ms. Cordial, I don’t believe you have met Harmony Banks. She is a Priestess of the Moon Clan.” Prior said.
Harmony nodded her head, then resumed studying the papers in front of her.
“The Moon Clan. I thought that was an urban legend,” Ian cut right to the point. He must have been reading my mind again, because that’s what I was wondering too.
“I assure you, we are very real.” Harmony’s milky white skin and pale hair were vaguely translucent. But not as ghostlike as the revenants I encountered in the alley. God that seemed like a lifetime ago. Nipping the train of thought in the bud, I focused on the here and now.
She continued, “The Moon Clan is devoted to locating the Ancients. The beings we are descended from surely originated from Mars. I’m here to prove it.”
Among Earth’s undead community, anyone who believed in an ancestral race was considered to be on the left side of crazy. Like the humans who believed every technological advance originated from little green men landing and bestowing their wisdom, the Moon Clan’s viewpoint was considered fantasy.
No one knew where we came from. The common myth was we were children of Cain, cursed by God. I didn’t buy that any more than I believed in aliens. In yet another myth, we were created by the ancient Maya, in a blood sacrifice gone wrong.
“Regardless of what you’re trying to prove, while you’re here, you’ll work for the betterment of the colony.” I needed to lay down the law right up front. My variation of if you don’t work, you don’t eat.
“Of course. That goes without saying,” she said. I tried not to imagine the sub-text behind her words. She would play along while it suited her.
“Shall we get down to business, now?” Louis interjected. “We have a long agenda today.”
For the next three hours we plotted and planned the establishment of the colony. Prior reviewed the extensive list of scientific experiments our illustrious benefactor had sanctioned. On the docket: mining, various scientific studies, agr
iculture, geological surveys and archeological digs.
Finally, I had to break in. “The mining I can understand. And the gamma ray experiments. But farming? Don’t you need water to grow plants. There’s no water on this planet. At least not enough for crops.”
Prior smirked, his lips twitching in advance of the lecture he was about to deliver.
Louis cut him off. “NASA has concluded water exists underneath the rocky top layer of the planet, in the rocks and seasonally at the poles in the form of frost. We’re planning on exploiting the water, through hydroponic growing methods which require a lot less water.”
Louis was really growing on me. The hangdog look on Prior’s face was priceless. Since we were stuck with each other, basically forever, I decided to throw him a bone.
“Prior, I would appreciate it, if you could provide more details about the mining initiative.”
And he did, for another hour, until I think my brains melted in my head. I did my best to appear attentive even though I only understood the prepositions he used in between the big words.
Ian, Harmony and Louis seemed to be following along nicely. Though it could have been an act. In any case, Prior eventually stopped blabbering. The meeting adjourned so we could tend to our work assignments.
No one in the colony got to sit on their ass. Even me.
My job: Sweep out Dome Three. I could handle a broom. When Louis had created the day’s work list he hadn’t know that Jonathan wasn’t coming. I assured my new assistant that I didn’t mind manual labor.
Ian didn’t seem to mind it either. I didn’t bother to ask why he had joined me. I already knew the answer – to keep me safe. The balance of our relationship had changed somehow. Perhaps the fall to the planet’s surface damaged my brain. Or knocked some sense into me.
At any time during the landing, he could have killed me. No one would have been the wiser with the rough touchdown.
Realization knocked me in the gut. I could trust Ian.
I glanced over at him. Big mistake. Sunlight danced across his hair. The golden strands glinted in the light as he deftly wrangled the dust, with economical and swift movements. Unbidden, my gaze fixed on his hands. Strong and skilled. Fingernails clean even amidst the grime. The flood of emotion that had assaulted me back on the ship coursed through me again, settling in my belly.
I wanted him. It didn’t scare me so much to think it now.
Who was I kidding? I was terrible at the relationship thing. Jonathan and I were dysfunctional on a good day. Always bickering. I chaffed at the simplest requests. While our relationship had been platonic for at least ninety years, I never trusted my heart with anyone.
The scritch-scratch of the brooms stopped. Silence blanketed the dome. Ian watched me for a moment then turned his attention back to the dirt and resumed sweeping. It bothered me that I knew nothing about him, yet he knew things about me. Time to change that.
With a totally lame question.
“Ian,” I asked in between sweeps, “did you understand anything Prior said about mining?”
Ian chuckled, “About every other word.”
“Thank goodness. I thought it was me. A Victorian lady’s education didn’t include Martian mining practices.” I had received a fine girl’s education, befitting my family’s station in life. If my mother had her way, I’d exclusively read the Bible and learn the art of heading a household of servants. Thankfully, my more progressive father sent me away to the finest boarding schools where I received a pretty good education for the times. Too bad survival training wasn’t on the curriculum.
“In my day, most people didn’t receive educations.” Ian turned his back and swept a dust pile into the far corner. I wanted to ask more, but the tight shoulders and vicious broom strokes told me to leave it alone. For now anyway.
I fumbled the broom. It slapped to the floor with a bang. My previously tidy pile puffed into a huge dirt cloud and spread across the floor.
Crud. I’d have to start over. The dust was a total pain. No matter which direction I swept the dirt danced away, billowing in different directions.
“What I wouldn’t give for a vacuum cleaner right now.” I groused as the dust once again scattered when I went to scoop it into the trash receptacle.
“Blame Martian gravity. And the dryness in the air.”
“How about I blame the nob-head who didn’t think to pack vacuum cleaners?” Mental note to self – as soon as I establish communications with Jay, ask him to check the ship. There had to be something we could use.
Caves popped into my mind. Kasia had told me to find the caves. “I feel like mining duty tomorrow.”
Ian stopped his broom. “I thought you said you didn’t want to, and I quote, walk the crappy, mother fucking Mars surface ever again, end quote.”
“We won’t walk. I’m the boss and I can change assignments if I want. I’ve had enough of this Stygian task. Are you in?”
“As you wish,” he said with a soft smile.
I snorted at the Princess Bride reference, “I’ll let Louis know.”
“I thought you loathed zombies.”
“I actually like Louis. He seems very capable.” I admitted.
“Excellent. Now about the mining assignment, since when did you fancy geology?”
CHAPTER TEN
Leadership had its privileges. The following day, I was off dust duty and on a hovercraft with Ian. Our mission, to locate a missing cargo box believed to have landed in Gusev Crater. Perfect.
Equipped to stay a few nights if necessary, we had tents and other camping gear. Ian insisted on escorting me. The juice pouch poisoner remained unidentified and I was happy for the company. Now that I’d decided to trust Ian, he seemed more forthcoming in the information sharing department.
The evening before, he invited me to “dine” (sip juice) with his rogues. They were very polite, despite their hardcore exteriors. And they respected the hell out of Ian. One by one, they managed to find time to tell me how they met him. In each case, he had offered them hope or provided a helping hand when no one else would.
I really had no clue what life was like outside of a vampire family. In many cases, it had been living hell for some of the rogues. I heard tales about blood slavery (which has been outlawed for centuries) still occurring. A lucrative, black market trade, the vampires were kidnapped as human children and raised to be compliant— first as sexual playthings and later as vampire blood donors. If they survived the turn, they remained slaves even in death.
Slaves were sold to the highest bidder for a specified length of time and the purchaser could do whatever they wanted. That explained some of the terrible scars on a few of the rogues. Some were missing fingers or ears – parts deemed unnecessary for slaves to perform their duties. The mutilation was a message to the rest of the slaves – keep in line or else.
I shuddered, thinking about their stories.
“Cold, luv?” Ian asked over the hum of the hovercraft’s engines.
“No. Thinking about how lucky I’ve been.” Their fate could have been mine, if Jonathan hadn’t been such a good sire.
“Fortune has smiled on both of us. If this Mars thing hadn’t come along, we’d still be on the run.” Ian’s attention was fixed on the path ahead of us. The hovercraft, equipped with a GPS device linked into an orbiting NASA satellite, would beep when the crate’s transponder signal came into range.
“I seem to recall, you thought running was better than coming here.” Since we’d arrived, I wasn’t convinced Mars was a good idea. My opinion of the planet hadn’t improved. It was still barren, dusty and cold.
“I now see the error of my ways. Think about it. For the first time, the rogues don’t have to hide or be worried about exposure. They’re free here. The future is whatever we want to make out of it.”
I admired Ian’s sense of optimism. I couldn’t share it. “I still miss my house. My comfy bed. A hot shower.”
“Those things will come with time.”
<
br /> I snorted, “We certainly have plenty of it.”
Beeps emitted from the dashboard. A red dot appeared on the GPS screen. We were in the box’s vicinity.
“Up ahead. Not too far, I think,” Ian slowed the craft.
Moments later, we could see the sharp edge of a camo-green metal container jutting from the rock strewn soil. Airbag remains, partially buried in sand, flared around the crash site in a semi-circle. Hefty dirt piles had settled against the side of the container.
Ian stopped the hovercraft and we jumped out for a closer look.
“Bloody hell! It’s jammed in there good,” Ian groused, hands on his hips. “Right. We have to dig it out.”
Lovely. It was better than the alternative, mindless sweeping for hours on end. “I’ll grab the shovels and the gear.”
The work was hard and took longer than we expected. After freeing the crate, we devised a method for leveraging it onto the transport rig so the hovercraft could tow it back to the colony.
I refused to call the colony New Roanoke. A stupid and cursed name if there ever was one. When I mentioned it to Ian, he agreed.
“Bring it up at the next meeting. It’s not like they’ve had stationery made.”
True enough, I thought as I tightened the last hitch line. “Ian, come make sure I knotted this right.”
While Ian tested the lines, the pale sunlight faded and the sky darkened to an ominous gray-orange color. “Funny, I thought sunset wasn’t for another few hours.”
“That’s not sunset.” Ian hopped into the hover craft, fired up the engine and lowered the vehicle and cargo container to the ground. “Help me get the landing anchors out.”
Red Martian soil sped across the plain, blasting grit into my eyes and ears. Orange dust spiraled skywards reducing our visibility to near zero. I quickened my efforts, using every ounce of my superhuman strength to jam the anchors into place.
“Get in the vehicle!” Ian grabbed my waist and hoisted me over the side.