Mars, The Bringer Of War

by George P. Saunders

  It was another alien, bigger than the other Sel warriors, and the sight of this one struck fear into Anna's heart. The Controller moved slowly from a high bluff, negotiating for a closer angle of attack.

  Mars' world turned into a spinning frenzy of pain. "John, you have to get up," Anna cried again.

  Mars didn't need further prodding. He was on his feet a second later, analyzing his shoulder. It was a flesh wound, more painful than damaging, but it was bleeding profusely, and Mars' first concern was how the scent of blood would affect the sand dragon.

  Hopefully, that Sel was a big meal and fully satisfying, he thought humorlessly.

  He glanced up at the shoreline and studied the big alien coming through the thicket. Mars turned to Anna.

  "We have no choice, darlin'," he said. "When I hit the sand, you run for the opposite shore."

  "That's suicide," Mars said. "Our friend down under will come after one of us for sure."

  "That's the idea," Mars nodded. "And that someone will be me."

  He threw himself onto the sand and began running for the shore, firing at the Sel Controller. The Controller took immediate cover, as John continued to lay down a strafing pattern and bee-lined for harder land.

  The sand dragon, predictably, surfaced and began its dreadful pursuit of Mars. Anna didn't hesitate; as soon as she saw the alien monster, she jumped off her rock island and sprinted for the opposite shore. The dragon gave her a cursory nod, but decided that Mars was the most realistic goal to pursue at the moment.

  The Controller saw Mars running directly for the shore below him. He took aim, yet hesitated; the big man was such an easy target, and not going anywhere. The more elusive target was running in the opposite direction. The Controller raised his weapon, and lined Anna up in his sights.

  But his timing was off. The thermal ray went wide, and missed Anna by a foot; trained in combat tactics, she dove over a low ridge. When the Controller raised his weapon again, Anna had disappeared.

  Mars turned to check on Anna's fate. He saw no residual ether from the disintegrating ray, which meant the alien had fired and missed the target. Mars took some heart from this, even as he couldn't help but notice that his old friend, the sand dragon, was almost on top of him, drool contraling behind its massive jaws, now open and ready to devour.

  Suddenly, the sand dragon exploded directly behind Mars, throwing the big man forward and face down. He turned over and looked at the huge reptile, its head blown off and its massive body flip-flopping like a dying fish on land. Mars looked toward the shore.

  Ravers lowered his thermal pulse rifle. He grinned. Then suddenly his face contorted with agony. Something huge protruded from his chest; Ravers turned, and looked at the Controller. The Controller had thrown the Sel equivalent of a dagger at Ravers, and the mark proved deadly accurate.

  Mars was stunned, but he suddenly was having problems of his own. He was beginning to sink.

  Quicksand, he decided quickly.

  He forced himself not to struggle; in any event, it seemed like his problems were about to be ended for good. Ravers dropped to both knees and sunk over on his side. The Controller walked over to Ravers' still body, then turned to Mars.

  For a moment, both man and Sel stared at one another. Mars continued to sink, and the Controller sensed the end was very near. Besides, it reasoned, there were other targets still on the move. This one, John Mars, the most dangerous of the humans and the leader, would soon be dead.

  The Controller moved along the shoreline, its attention now focused on the opposite bank. It would come back for John Mars later. Such a prize could then be savored in earnest…

  Mars tested the sand around his body; he was able to free his arms, but this would do little good against the miring affects of the sand. It was up to his neck now; in another minute, he'd be completely submerged.

  Ravers' body twitched suddenly, and then he turned toward Mars. Blood streamed out of his mouth, and his eyes looked painfully dilated. But he was not yet dead, and for this relief, Mars gave much thanks.

  "Chase," Mars hissed. "Why -- why did it do that to you?"

  "Not -- part of the plan," Ravers whispered painfully. "Don't move, old buddy. I -- still might redeem myself yet."

  Ravers unlooped the heavy rope he'd carried for miles. Crawling to the sand line, he tossed one end of it to Mars. Mars caught it, while Ravers secured the other end to a large rock which he used as a prop for his dying body.

  Mars dragged himself out of the sand, and marine crawled over to Ravers, who was breathing with a rasp.

  "John, I'm sorry," Ravers managed. "You've -- you've got to get back to Earth. Fight them. Don't trust them."

  "I never did. And as for fighting them --"

  "You can do it. You can tell everyone how," Ravers said, his every breath punctuated with agony. "You were right, old buddy. I blew it. I --"

  Ravers never finished. Mars closed the other man's eyes and looked toward the direction that the alien Controller had disappeared.

  There was very little time left.

  Anna had not obeyed Mars. Hiding among some twisted thicket a few feet above the sand line, she watched the Controller murder Ravers, and then move past the sinking Mars, in her direction. Her first instinct was to stay and fight, to confront the hideous alien that was responsible for Mars’ demise in the sand; but another part of her responsible, command-decision training kicked into automatic.

  Mars was dead. He would sink beneath the sand within a few seconds. And she would also be a lost casualty if she didn’t move. Now.

  She followed training and instinct, versus her heart, screaming inside for the man she loved.

  They’ll be time for payback later, she thought to herself. But I have to survive to extract that payback. For you, John. It’s the decision you would have made.

  In fact, there was no choice. The alien Controller had a more formidable weapon than her simple laser pistol. Further, he was bigger and faster (and clearly more intelligent) than the soldier Sels that had tracked them all thus far. The wisest strategy was to fall back.

  Good bye, John. My only love.

  She turned, and ran for dear life.

  EIGHT

  ONE ON ONE

  She could hear the Controller hacking through the underbrush distantly behind her. But the growing howl of a wind that sounded like no other wind she’d heard before began to distort the immediate threat to her rear. She chanced a look upwards, and a shudder passed through her as she saw a huge funnel begin to form and snake its way earthward only a few miles on the horizon.

  It must be a mile wide, Anna thought, trying to gauge some perspective with the wind giant. She had never seen anything like it. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins, and her muscles knotted, galvanizing every tissue into frozen shock.

  The funnel shifted malevolently, one moment slim and almost recognizable as an old style Kansas twister, the next into something truly believable as a thing from a distant world in a galaxy a million light years from Earth.

  Barry was about a thousand yards ahead, holding tight to Sally, who maintained a steady pace forward to a bluff that obscured the land beyond.

  If that spaceship isn’t over that hill, we’re dead, Anna thought. Dead, and the Sels get to take over Earth and then all is lost.

  She snarled to herself, and pushed forward into the increasing backward pull of the wind.

  The Controller suddenly bounded forward in a burst of speed Anna could never have expected. It fairly flew, utilizing the increased gyrating windspeed from the tornado as a kind of tailwind. The result was that now the Controller landed directly in front of Anna, pulse rifle raised, ready to fire.

  Anna froze in her tracks. The rifle began to glow red. And Anna knew she was moments away from oblivion.

  “Hey, you,” a voice screamed from behind the Controller. The big alien lowered its rifle, and turned to Mars, standing between two rocks, Ravers’ pulse rifle aimed directly at the humongous creature. />
  The Controller regarded Mars with immutable, expressionless surprise. It raised its weapon to fire, faster than Mars was able to discern with his dreadfully inaccurate human perception.

  The Controller’s weapon failed to fire.

  Mars responded just as quickly, and just as inaccurately, surprised that the Controller would risk the move of drawing on him. The thermal blast shot wide of the Controller and it gave the alien time for one more counter-maneuver.

  It lurched near Anna with incredible speed, the massive tail dangling over her head like an alien Damoclean sword. The deadly stinger pulsated lethally, ready to impale her in a split second. The Controller turned its massive head to Mars one more time.

  A Mexican standoff, Mars thought. It was out of ammunition, but it still had Anna. If I took another shot, I might miss, or worse, injure the thing, and then it would kill Anna for sure.

  Mars cursed his luck, but did not hesitate a second longer. He lowered the pulse rifle, fighting to stand against the increasing force of the winds at his back. He, too, had seen the massive funnel approaching, as did Anna, and in fact, the Controller as well.

  “You and me,” Mars said, pointing at the Controller. “Without this.” He threw the pulse rifle into a nearby ravine, now just as weaponless as the Sel giant. He then pointed at Anna.

  “But you let her go.”

  The sensory mechanism that allowed the Controller to understand, at least in part, the alien language of the human was duly impressed with the challenge. It was a sporting move, one his Sel brethren would have admired for sheer spirit and courage.

  It will be a pity to kill this magnificent specimen, the Sel thought in its own fragmented, and oftentimes, mathematically oriented language. It has a will to live, to fight, to combat on a level field of play. Well done. Well done. If in fact it survives this encounter (unlikely) … I will let it flee back to its world.

  Still, for the moment, the objective was to make Mars die. The Controller lowered its ponderous tail and backed away from Anna. Anna immediately raised her weapon to fire at the Sel.

  “No, Anna,” Mars shouted. She snapped her attention toward him, stunned by the admonition.

  “I’ve got it,” Anna pleaded. “We’re free.”

  “I made a deal. This thing, whatever it is, trusted me. Get out of here.”

  “You’re crazy,” Anna said, and again brought the Sel into her sights. The Sel turned its head toward her, waiting for the interchange to pass between Mars and the other human. It did not seem alarmed by the by-play.

  The Controller now understood the principle of personal human honor.

  Intriguing… it thought.

  “Go, Anna,” Mars said again. “While there’s time. I know what I’m doing.”

  Anna hesitated still.

  “Please,” Mars said for the last time. The word covered the entire spectrum of human emotion; hope, fear, anger ... and command. There was no further argument. She held Mars’ eyes, her face draining of blood.

  Anna lowered her pulse pistol, nodding in disbelief at Mars. But this time, she turned, and ran up the bluff in the direction that Sally and Barry had run minutes earlier.

  Mars now turned and faced the big alien proper. The Controller moved toward him, and Mars backed up, knowing he was about to attempt the damn near impossible: outrunning the Sel warrior on its own ground.

  But Mars had passed a gorge on the way up to this bluff, and he hoped now that timing and luck would be on his side. The Controller bore down on him, and when he came to within twenty feet, Mars made a dive down the opposite side of this bluff. He rolled, as easily as a tumble weed, coming to rest at the base of the bluff. He turned upwards, and saw that the Controller had indeed been caught off guard.

  Mars used the seconds to his advantage. He got to his feet and ran through the patch of jungle which he knew would provide some cover for his escape.

  He was not prepared for what transpired next.

  He fell, rolled, this time in no kind of controlled, trained descent. Rocks tore at his flesh, and bramble scratched his face, as he continued to spiral down a steep grade.

  Then he was flying. His hand clawed the air, reaching for solid ground, hell, anything. One hand found and held tight to something long and ropy.

  A vine hung some forty feet from the lip of the cliff he’d gone over. Mars fought back the million stars in his head, holding fast. He chanced a look down. Big mistake. Vertigo stung his vision and his stomach. Below him lay a thousand feet of nothing. In fact, he was hanging over what appeared to be a huge caldera of some ancient volcano. On a second look, Mars revised his original estimate as to the drop ration. Three thousand feet, easily. And the core was red hot. Fire and black soot shot upwards.

  Not good, not good, his mind, always a thing in need of commentary on any given situation. A long drop and a very hot landing.

  He snapped his head to what was above him, half expecting the huge Controller to be standing on the cliff ledge, laughing some alien laugh at his deplorable circumstances. But the huge Sel was nowhere to be seen.

  Mars sized up his options to his right and left. A ledge loomed out only twenty feet away. Problem would be generating enough momentum on his vine (without the added tension severing it) to swing it and himself to safety.

  He took a breath and used the cliff-face as a rappelling base to get the vine going. It took only one shot, as the vine swung one way and then almost directly over the edge of the ledge.

  And then the vine snapped.

  More the fool me for thinking it would sustain my weight, he chided himself, doing a mid-air ballet of tumble-turn.

  He was falling again. For about two feet, but was able to grab onto the lip of the ledge just before he went plummeting two thousand feet into the volcanic furnace.

  Well, sure, this is great, but --

  He looked down. A tremendous fireball rocketed toward him from the broiling magma below. He hauled himself over the ledge, just as the projectile flamed past him; he could feel the heat char part of his flight suit. He closed his eyes, catching his breath, wondering distantly what else could possible go wrong. Correction, had yet not to go wrong.

  Something shuddered beneath his body. He opened one eye. The Controller stared at him from six feet away, a tower of malevolence, tail up, stinger twitching.

  Mars was exhausted, but from somewhere deep inside, he found a reserve to force him to stand. The Controller did not immediately move toward his adversary; odd, Mars thought in that instance, because the big alien could easily have dispensed with him quickly and with minimal effort.

  Suddenly, the alien took a few steps back and lowered its tail. The claws relaxed and the persistent hiss that accompanied all the Sel species ceased.

  The Controller began to change.

  Molecular transformation. But into what?

  The Controller vanished. In its place -- Anna stood before him. An exact replica; identical, right down to the small bangs that continuously fell in her eyes. His Anna.

  Not good. This was not good.

  If he could have backed up, retreated, or run now, high, wide and handy, Mars would have done so, hands down, no questions asked. But there was no place to run, short of a two thousand foot precipitous drop into hell itself.

  The Anna-thing looked at her hands, studying the new physical form. Her fists clenched and unclenched. She raised her arms, tested her legs, craned her neck to the right and to the left. Then the Anna-thing grinned. The effect gave her an eerily human quality. Creepy enough ... until she spoke.

  “Now -- we fight like humans,” the Controller-turned-Anna thing said, the voice oddly sonorous, yet unmistakably Anna’s.

  Options were gone, evaporated, flushed out of existence by this new scene of madness before him. The Anna thing stepped toward Mars, and threw a lumbering punch at him. The blow connected, and Mars went down to the ground, hard and bloody. The Anna-thing reached for him, caught his flight jacket, and lifted him up bodily. He slam
med his skull into the alien’s forehead, but the attack was symbolic. He had put no force behind it whatsoever. He was having difficulty mustering any semblance of combat instinct with the form the Controller had chosen.

  The Controller Anna-thing threw him abruptly against the rock face. The blow was hard, painful, but not one which he couldn’t recover from -- and not one which froze his senses. He reached for another vine, and tried to crawl up the rockface. Again, he decided in an immutable span of microseconds that running was the only sound decision remaining.

  The Anna thing was on him once again, this time holding him against the cliff and delivering exploratory blows to his body. Again, Mars realized he was being toyed with; the Controller that had assumed Anna’s form was simply testing his limits of human combat capability from a hand to hand aspect.

  Probably getting quite an education, Mars thought in a weird kind of fragmented thought process. Alien thuggery and fuckery taken to the next exponential level of madness.

  He was thrown again, but this time the Anna-thing did not release its grip from his jacket. He found himself at the ledge-edge, now half hung over the side, staring into the molten lava pit thousands of feet below.

  Your funeral pyre, laddie, a mind fairy taunted from somewhere far away.

  The Controller flipped him over, but not before he saw one last piece of hope jetting upwards from the magma lake. Another fireball, huge, with discernible mass, was headed directly for both the alien and him. It would be a long shot, but ...

  The Anna-thing hit him again, this time a good connect to the jaw. The blow snapped his head down again, so he could view the approaching fireball. He held his breath, prayed that the alien would not again hit him again. Stars speckled beautifully in his head, and one more blow would send him nighty-night for good.

  He moved, grabbing the Anna-thing and kicking its right leg. Predictably, the tactic surprised the alien. She crumpled to one knee, glancing at it with some puzzlement, as if its failure to sustain the attack was incomprehensible to the extreme. Mars flipped the Anna-thing over his chest. For just a moment, the Controller screamed in that weird hissing-howl of a Sel when faced with the unexpected.