by Paul, Alan
“My pleasure, Jason.”
Jason looked on to her blood-covered body, and based on the inappropriate timing of her coming on to him, he thought, “There might be glitch in her programing.” However, the Technician at SYNTECH did warn him that combining Freewill and Combat Programming into a Synthetic’s sophisticated neural network, was a dangerous combination.
They hastily bypassed the Captain’s bridge, where moments ago Lexis had shot Captain Asaph Hull point blank, killing him instantly; also, she terminated his Synthetic Co-pilot without pause. Next they entered the passenger compartment where Lexis ended the life of the Crew Person.
“I don’t think he’ll be rolling his eyes at anyone anymore,” said Jason after nearly slipping on the oozing blood coming out of the contorted body.
In a cadaverous stare, the Crew Person gawked up expressionlessly, almost as if he were a double-jointed circus freak, waiting for the final applause. Staged like some freakish diorama in a wax museum, a macabre presence set the scene; frozen in a deathly scream, his jutted chin mouthed a silent cry for help that never came. Lexis had snapped the Crew Person’s head back in an unnatural pose, and with such a force, it had caused his cervical bone to protrude from what was left of his stretched neck.
“Death was swift for this man,” she coldly said.
“We all live on borrowed time, and some have more time than others.” Jason’s remark was a sign of approval for her actions.
When Lexis’s Terminate or Combat Programing initiated, she became an unstoppable killing machine, and dispatching the Crew Person, who was wearing a silly blue outfit, was merely just an act of war in her encoding.
HAMMER OF THOR
Lexis’s plan was simple; deactivate the Ring Technology and detach the Cargo Sleeve from the forward Command module. This would create a slight course deviation, veering them from the Polaris Space Station circling Mars; and after overshooting the Space Station, the Sleeve and its contents would either skip across the upper atmosphere, shooting into outer space, or the Chameleon would safely enter at a typical 40 degree angle.
Hacking of the Polaris Transport computer took some work for Lexis but once she was inside, she initiated the emergency abort command. Alarm sirens blared throughout the Cargo Bay Sleeve. However, inside the hermetically sealed Chameleon the noise was nil.
From his Captain’s chair, Jason gently touched the laser scar on his forearm. Lexis had removed his Polaris Citizen Chip, and placed it into the dead body of the Crew Person. This would elude the authorities who would believe Jason had died.
He now watched the countdown reach zero, several interior safety bolts securing the command module, exploded in a fitful force of pent-up dynamism, releasing it from the Cargo Sleeve. Momentum of the exploding bolts pushed forward on the Module, easing it into space. After a few seconds lapsed, rocket boosters engaged, hurtling it towards the oncoming planet. Thanks to the outer bulkheads and the airlock hatch, the Cargo Sleeve safely enclosed the Chameleon.
Before activating the Transport’s Emergency Abort, Lexis sabotaged the ship by inserting a worm into the computer, altering one of the rocket boosters to slightly burn hotter, giving the ship a steeper angle of attack when entering the Martian atmosphere. Also the virus would deactivate the landing rockets and parachutes. Jason wanted no evidence to survive.
Jason sat watching the separation on the Skin and thought about his next move. At this point, he was relying heavily on Lexis’s abilities and high functioning brain. “How do I get back to Earth safely?”
“Lexis, as soon as we hit the surface I want to send a priority one message to Aldiss Spline, explaining our situation, and please ask how to advise? Also, we’ll need to egress immediately from the Sleeve and redeploy under cloak.”
“I have calculated with our trajectory, a landing site within a twenty-five mile radius.” Lexis’s neural net was already two steps ahead of him.
“Dry or wet land?” Jason asked.
“We will land in close proximity to the Cydonia Pyramids in the northern hemisphere.” Shaped like faces and built on a high plateau, the three Pyramids were built by the ancient Martians to align with Orion’s Belt.
“The terrain?” Jason asked.
“Mostly rolling savanna, however there are some swampy lowlands to the immediate south.”
“Lexis, plot a route across the grasslands and through the lowlands. We’ll take the unexpected path, and head to the southern pole city of Promethei. Anyhow, they’ll be looking for us in the Northern region, expecting us to head into the city of Gramilda.”
P ART 3 CHILDREN OF EVE
E UGOLORP
The crater-pocked and irregular shaped Phobos dominated the astral night azure, waxing a pale moon over Mars. Contrarian long shadows creased the folds of opposing gestures as spikelet and blade glistened. The inflorescence sea shimmered in endless waves of near tessellate pallid colors when wild gusting winds whipped at the greensward top.
Tickling a display of frantic rushes, gamboling shadows of frolicking fauna danced amongst the swaying tall grass. Descendants of archaically classified extinct Pecora, presented common inheritable factors of all Martian creatures. The genetically modified hairless deer’s thick silvery-grey integument, offered a decorative tiger-like stripe in a flash of robust survivalism. The subdued dark brown arrangement, against a highly reflective skin, easily disrupted the visual acuity of any predator, giving them superior camouflaging unfound within the DNA sequencing of their Earthly ancestral link.
Air flowed naturally up the slow moving terrain, signifying the advantageous high ground the hunters claimed. Strong olfactory glands detected a distinct musky smell drifting on the morning breeze, indicating the beginning of the rut; and the hairless deer’s movements down below would have gone unnoticed if it were not for their upsurge in activity.
The hunter’s large eyes spotted the prey’s aggressive display of ritual mating. Too preoccupied to realize they were being stalked, the deer unwittingly brandished loud demonstrations of hoof stomps, grunts, and whistles. A testosterone-laden froth-like foam coated all the stag’s skin, and parading their masculine splendor of tongue wagging excitement, they pranced aggressively around the gathering doe. In a show of ultimate dominance, the large bucks locked antlers during battle while the doe waited for an eventual outcome. When the largest of bucks consolidated enough victories, he would rein supremacy over the herd.
Igniting a glisten off the spear tip’s surface, and edging at the evening’s firmament, a beaconing new dawn glinted a crackle of light at periphery. The clan leader clenched his weapon tight; gripping on to the moment’s sensation, he crouched low, pressing forward the hunt through the thick grass. Several more clan members instinctively followed, and slowly they all ascended in short bursts, frequently pausing so as not to give away their positions; panicking prey might mean failure, and clan survival could be at risk.
The Giant hunters of Mars lived a precariously fragile existence, and the seasonal subsistence hunting necessitated life for the clan; providing rich protein they so desperately needed. One failed hunt could spell disaster. This tightrope existence determined only the strongest survived in the leanest of times. During periods of near starvation, and despite their cooperative nature, Martian Humanoids demonstrated forms of cannibalism which included eating their own dead before resorting to predation on other clans.
The masking wind suddenly died, causing their movements to be chancy. However, they didn’t stop prowling forward, until reaching spear-throwing distance. Now scattered amongst the tall grass, the Humanoids respired creating purloins of silent gasps of steam in the equable moment of cool morning air. Deliberately pointing right, the formidable leader signaled half the clan to move, and in near unison, they flanked the unsuspecting hoofed animals.
When cresting over the hilltop from behind, the glimmering sunrise overwhelmed the moon’s radiance in a fight for supremacy, and the deer precipitously appeared under an astrophysical bat
tle of projected morning light. The welcoming warmth of the growing light, caused doe and stag to freeze, for the Humanoids’ dark outlines presented through long shadow in their direction.
The leader focused on a single animal, separating it out from the rest. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, when an iris dilating adrenaline rush, surged throughout his large body. He stretched back before violently releasing his spear, signaling the others to unleash a volley of finely sharpened spears.
The ambush’s lethality, created a succession of deathly squeals, groans and grunts, indicating some animals had been mortally pierced. Terror gripped the animals, scattering the herd in all directions; they bolted for safety. Straightaway, the tip of the leader’s spear met its mark, collapsing the animal’s lung cavity, destroying its capacity to breathe.
For all to see in a display of exuding confidence and prowess, he calmly perambulated up to the agonized deer, and cut open the jugular with a stone knife, mercifully splaying blood on the ground. The mere act of dropping the prey animal in one quick throw, flexed his superiority, ensuring his place as clan leader for the unseen future. For the rest, they would give chase after the mortally wounded deer; following blood trails for miles.
The hunting party strode in single file, carrying the product of the hunt back to their settlement, when again, the winds began gusting, pushing down the tall grasses, momentarily contracting in bands of swaying madness.
As the sun reached full rise, and with heads held high, each clan member welcomed the warmth of the early morning’s sun. And as the hunters relaxed in their mutual accomplishment, a large fiery object streaked across the Martian sky. Breaking the sound barrier like the Hammer of Thor, the sonic “BOOM!” vociferously echoed, shaking the very ground beneath the hunters’ feet.
Exploding in a fit of thunder, the object slammed into the Martian soil, releasing a large, mushrooming fireball in the sky. The hunters watched in horror as it rose from the direction of their settlement, plunging the primitive Humanoids into a state of panic and fear. Gasping protests of ear deafening shrieks, puffs, and loud chest thumping shrills, dominated as they darted around angrily, throwing spears in the direction of the rising black cloud.
Over the Cydonian plain, the Cargo Bay Sleeve spun violently out of control; two of three large parachutes tangled on deployment. However, all was not lost for the Chameleon as the properly unfurled chute claimed enough drag to avoid complete and utter disaster. A total free fall would have dealt a deathblow for Jason and Lexis.
With the black mushroom cloud to his front, the clan leader turned and looked upward at the descending Sleeve. Wildly, he jabbed his spear at the alien craft twisting over the savanna. The terrified hunter marveled excitedly in pure wonderment at the alien sight. Cautiously, doubling back in the direction of the early morning hunt, a closer inspection was needed to see exactly what had invaded their territory from above.
SURVIVING NATIVES
The Sleeve landed intact at the edge of dense bamboo forest; the tall pliable tree-like structures, along with the swampy bog surface, helped cushion the impact significantly. Jason was knocked out cold from the sudden blow. Lexis’s sophistical neural net scanned Jason’s unconscious body. “CRANIAL DISPLACEMENT, improbable…CONCUSSION, 95.28% viability… overall estimated physiological recovery time, 2 weeks…overall estimated physiological recovery time, 8 to 10 weeks…psychological impact, digressive affects of previous psyche status. No other injuries identified.”
She could not get the Chameleon online; the ship was dead inside the Cargo Bay Sleeve. Lexis checked the fuel cells to see if they were charged and intact, which they were but no power would transfer. She surmised that some nefarious type of programing glitch incapacitated all systems; maybe John Grier sabotaged the ship during the trip to Mars.
Without panic, she followed an alternate plan and punched out through the Cargo Sleeve’s emergency hatch, and dragged Jason’s bio-suit protected, unconscious body through the dense bamboo. A heavy fog filled the damp Martian lowland. A continuous mist rained down on them, drenching her tight body suit that now clung to her subtle synthetic skin. When Jason’s physique got snagged on the thick undergrowth, her breast perked right through the material after gently fishing him out.
In places, large brackish swamp puddles gathered between spongy bog surfaces, her footing bounced beneath their combined weight on these small islands.
Her internal sensors picked up a group of large animal-like signatures that hardly presented themselves in the visual range but under infrared they glowed in human-like form. Lexis could see their shimmers of refractive light moving amongst the plethora of bamboo. They never came close enough for her to actually see what they looked like.
Mile, after mile, trekking through the swampy forest, she carried Jason’s unconscious body without being enervated. Albeit, she was relieved when the scenery began to ascend in elevation, and the humidity started to fritter away. Bamboo forest gave way to a more diverse selection of trees that mostly comprised of oaks, maples and pines.
The changing landscape opened to a large rock outcropping castling out of the forest, signaling that this would be a good place to seek shelter. Lexis used her ground-penetrating radar, and discovered a small network of tunnels running under the rock; their depths would be ideal for hiding from satellite detection, and protecting Jason from the elements including surface radiation. He was in no immediate danger from the radiation but long-term exposure would be deadly. Keeping him out of the elements minimized the chance of him getting radiation sickness.
Lexis came around the rock to where the mouth of a tunnel hid; after setting the gear down, she studied the opening with Jason tucked under her right arm. By analyzing the markings on the cave entrance she surmised the network of tunnels belonged to some kind of indigenous animal. Her sensors scanned for any kind of Martian life forms inside but came up empty, however she felt the prying eyes of the large Humanoids present but they remained well hidden. She gently laid Jason down, raised her pistol at the ready, and ducked down entering the low rock opening.
After a quick investigation, Lexis discovered an open area about twenty feet in. She could easily seal both ends to protect them from the possibility of a forcible eviction by a returning Martian animal. She pulled Jason and the gear through the narrow opening until reaching the interior’s chamber; where they could actually stand upright. A small opening in the ceiling not only allowed light to beam in, but also allowed air to circulate through. Her nano-carbon and alloy frame permitted her superior strength to easily pile heavy boulders at the rear of the chamber where another tunnel ran deeper into the rock; dust temporarily filled the air when she pulled down the ceiling over the rear entrance, completely blocking it off.
Only having to worry about the front entrance, Lexis worked at a fever pitch building a framed structure. Angling downward, she drove two opposing rows of sharply pointed bamboo logs into the ground; and with high-tensile strength wire she tied them together, thus forming heavy walls. Lexis invented a hinged trapdoor, and securely attached it to the A-frame assembly, opening upward so it could easily be locked down to safeguard the entrance. Lastly, she camouflaged the structure with piles of deciduous branches.
Lexis felt she could leave Jason securely behind while she trekked back to the Chameleon; there she would quickly cannibalize it for their survival. With the Chameleon’s parts and supplies, she estimated they both could survive for an indefinite time or for at least enough time to hatch a plan on how to escape their situation. After checking Jason’s status, she set out to the crash site where the Chameleon remained incapacitated.
C APTAIN HARGROVE
“You’ll take a team through the Teserak, secure the Chameleon.”
“What is a Teserak? And what about Bjorn?” Learner stiffly asked.
“The Teserak is a Quantum Foam Generator, and you’ll kill Jason Bjorn with prejudice if he becomes a threat to the mission,” Captain Elena Hargrove smartly answered.
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“Wait, this sounds way too risky!” Learner objected loudly, while shaking his head no. He continued, “You need a QFG at the end terminus. How do we know where he is or do we even know if Jason Bjorn is still alive?”
Albeit, Learner Rotterdam wasn’t under her command, the Devonian Officer’s face angrily turned bright red; she was not used to insubordinate behavior in her ranks.
Elena Hargrove plaintively responded. “We’ll assume Bjorn is alive until further confirmation. Regarding the equipment, we were able to miniaturize a Quantum Foam Generator, and hide it aboard the Chameleon. Regarding time travel, we can send you through the Quantum Foam Generator to when they crashed. However, there are a few variables in the space-time fabric, so we have to surpass the variable time to make sure you don’t prematurely end up in outer space or in free fall over the Martian surface.”
“Geez, that’s a load off my mind.” Learner sarcastically spoke.
“How much time are we talking about? Longcra sharply asked.
Sergeant Longcra would direct any combat actions on the other end.
“They landed almost three weeks ago but your team will arrive three to five days after the crash,” Captain Elena Hargrove responded.
“He has a Synthetic,” Learner added.
“Your team will consist of two combat SYNs to help neutralize any threat.”
“We are going to need at least two more SYNs,” Learner insisted.
“The Teserak will only allow four to safely pass at any one time. Besides, Longcra and his two combat SYNs will suffice.”
“I disagree, Jason’s SYN is different. And what about his ship?”