“I understand your loss and how resentment can grow and fester from such tragic disasters. But how exactly do you plan to get revenge?”
Carter’s hand rested on the briefcase. “I’d rather not go into the specifics yet. First and foremost, we need to steal a shuttle. That’s the only way we can leave Mars.”
Magnus gave a nod of agreement. “Agreed. There’s another uniform in my room that should fit you.”
Sylvia returned with Digger wrapped in a wet towel. She grinned at Magnus.
Carter asked her, “Do you think we could pose as guards to get aboard the shuttle?”
“Guards seldom get on the shuttles. It’s rare. Being close to a shuttle would automatically draw scrutiny from the perimeter guards.”
“Maybe,” Magnus said. “But all we need is enough time to get aboard.”
“They’d stop you before you ever got inside,” Sylvia replied.
“Then who’s going to pilot the shuttle?” Magnus asked.
“Me,” she said. Her eyes brightened with excitement. “I know how to set the controls and the coordinates.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m a mechanic, so I have access to all the manuals. When I’m not repairing something, I spend a lot of time reading those books.”
Her statement caught Magnus’ immediate attention. “Since you’re a mechanic, could you get Carter and myself some mechanic coveralls?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Guards might draw suspicion by being near a shuttle, but a group of mechanics wouldn’t.”
Her smile widened. “That’s true. But you’ll need the guard uniforms to get inside the storage room in the landing bay where they keep the jumpsuits. You’ll want to appear invisible, so that’s a good idea to disguise as mechanics.”
Carter rested his elbows on top of the briefcase. “Dressed like mechanics we won’t have a problem getting to the shuttle, but once we reach Earth, we’re going to need funds.”
“I have money that I can access through an ATM when we land,” Sylvia said.
“Using your earnings from here?” Carter asked.
She nodded.
“No. Any funds that we’ve earned through Grayson Enterprises will be frozen. We won’t have any access to whatever money Grayson has paid us.”
Magnus said, “He’s right.”
Sylvia frowned. “Why?”
Carter replied, “Once we leave the landing bay Grayson will know who took the ship, or at least he will check the surveillance cameras in the landing bay to discover who we are. We’ll be surrounded when we land in California. I can guarantee that.”
She smiled. “We won’t have to be aboard the shuttle when it lands.”
Carter frowned. “What?”
“Are you suggesting parachutes?” Magnus asked.
“There are emergency chutes, but they’re seldom ever used. I can set the shuttle for autopilot and slow down the velocity. When we reach the right altitude, we jump near a city where we can hide.”
“That might work,” Magnus said.
Carter nodded. “True. But it still leaves us stranded without money.”
Magnus clapped his hands together with such force that both Carter and Sylvia jumped. He smiled. “I know how we can get more money than all three of us could ever earn from Grayson during our contracts.”
“How?” they asked in unison.
“It’s why the miners are slaving in the pits. It’s what I was mining for. The MarQuebes. They’re the most desired gems on Earth.”
“Where do they keep them?” Carter asked.
“They’re locked in the storage corridors on the other side of the mines. I’ve watched other workers push carts full of the stones into that corridor. And now I have a security key to get inside.”
Carter frowned. “Are you certain that key will access the storage units?”
“I don’t see why it won’t,” Magnus replied.
“There’s always the chance that guards are only allowed access into certain areas based upon their security levels.”
“We won’t know unless we try.”
Carter sighed. “And if it doesn’t, we’re right back where we are now.”
Magnus shrugged. “If we can’t use the key, we’ll brainstorm some more. We’re bound to find a solution.”
Carter looked at Sylvia. “Are there cameras in the corridors?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a chance we have to take,” Magnus said to Carter. “But you’ll need the other guard’s uniform that’s in my cell.”
Carter stood and picked up the brief case. “Then let’s go get it.”
Magnus smiled at Sylvia. “Do you mind taking care of Digger while we go?”
“Not at all,” she said, scratching behind the ferret’s ears. “It’s nice to have a pet. We were supposed to get to place orders for cats and dogs, but our supervisors seem to have forgotten about that.”
Carter shook his head and frowned. “I doubt the animals would survive the trip from Earth to Mars.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
“Thanks, Sylvia,” Magnus said. “Come on, Carter.”
Magnus opened the door, and he and Carter entered the hallway.
6
Magnus and Carter stepped briskly, yet cautiously, along the corridor, hoping not to come into contact with other patrols or off duty staff. They didn’t want any confrontations. Carter wore his helmet with the visor partway up. Once Carter had the other guard’s uniform, they’d be less suspicious wandering through the corridors. However, that didn’t make Magnus any more confident of going unseen.
According to Sylvia there were cameras in the corridors, but he had not discovered them. Carter kept his head looking downward as though he was avoiding the chance of an overhead camera capturing an image of his face.
Carter’s breathing was rapid. He lowered the visor all the way. His hands trembled so badly that Magnus wondered if the doctor would hyperventilate or pass out before he could get the suit. He looked more frightened than a cat dropped inside a cage full of angry dogs.
“How far is your room?” Carter whispered.
“A ways yet.”
“The suit will be a good way to be out in the open unseen.”
“If you mean that no one suspects you of harboring a prisoner and planning to escape from Mars, you’re probably right.”
“Should we take the guards’ guns?”
Magnus glanced at Carter. “Do you know how to use a gun?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer then. If you carry a gun, you’d best be prepared to use it. Without one, we won’t be considered as hostile.”
“Okay. I’m nervous. I’ve never done anything like this.”
Magnus chuckled. “And you think that I have?”
“Well, you are a prisoner.”
“So?”
“Why were you in prison?”
Magnus shook his head and kept walking. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you at another time when we’re not looking over our shoulders every few minutes.”
Carter nodded. “Okay.”
Magnus stepped to a smaller tunnel to the right. “Come on, let’s go this way. It’s quicker.”
Carter followed without question. This narrow tunnel was darker, which comforted Magnus a bit more but seemed to set Carter on edge even more. His paranoia was getting the best of him. He brushed away invisible cobwebs, ducked when there weren’t any obstructions, and gasped when he thought something had flown toward him.
“Keep moving,” Magnus whispered.
“I am. You’re certain this path is safe?”
“Safer to keep us hidden from cameras and guards, but there’s nothing here that should alarm us. Other than all the humans that have travelled here, there aren’t other living creatures here.”
“You never know.”
“So you believe there might be life on Mars?”
“As a doctor and a scientist, I would never rule it
out,” Carter said.
The short path circled around and led to the open mining pit. Magnus stopped at the edge of the door. His eyes widened with surprise.
“What is it?” Carter asked, in a near whisper.
“This is where I mined. I never knew there was another shift that worked after ours ended.”
Carter edged to the side of Magnus where he could see the pit.
Rows of miners swung picks while adjacent rows used shovels to scoop up the loose volcanic soil. The sifter machines rattled and hummed. Large front loaders scooped up the outer edges of the mine where drillers were carving out new passages.
Carter shook his head. “Damn.”
“Yep. It’s worse than my words can describe. But you’re a medical doctor. I know it’s hard to discern from this distance, but notice how none of these men ever slow their pace. They don’t interact. Hell, even the guards looked bored.”
The patrols around the perimeter had their laser rifles slung over their shoulders. Most stood in pairs and talked in causal conversations, smoking. None were on high alert. And if any noticed Magnus and Carter, they never reacted to their presence.
“Come on,” Magnus said. “We’re almost there.”
Magnus turned down a wider corridor where he had walked daily and stopped outside his room. “Well, here we are. My palace.”
After they stepped inside the cell, the doors shut.
Magnus walked to the shower and looked in the stall. The shorter man frowned with evident fury and hatred. His face was flushed red from trying to yell for help while struggling with the cuffs. The other guard was still unconscious and not moving.
Magnus shook his head and looked at Carter. “Perhaps I hit him a bit harder than I intended. Is he breathing?”
Carter knelt and felt for a pulse. “Yeah, he’s breathing. His pulse is strong.”
Magnus sighed. “Good.”
Magnus found the keys to the handcuffs. He leaned down to the conscious guard. “I’m going to take the sock from your mouth. Unless you want to sleep a while like your friend there, I suggest you be quiet. Understood?”
Matt’s jaw clenched tightly and his eyes narrowed even more.
“Do you understand?”
Matt nodded.
“Good.” Magnus took the sock out.
Matt said, “You’re going to pay severely for this.”
“Uh-uh!” Magnus said, pointing his huge thick finger. “Think about what I said, and look at Cain. I don’t want to hit you again, but you best believe I will if you force me to. Don’t make me feel worse than I already do that Cain hasn’t roused yet.”
“You know you two are going to die for this, right?” Matt hissed. Spittle sprayed from his mouth.
Magnus formed a massive fist and reared back. Matt cowered and closed his eyes.
“That’s better,” Magnus said. “I’m unlocking your cuffs. One wrong move on your part, and I’ll drop you worse than I did before.”
“All right. Fine. What do you want?”
“I want you to strip of your uniform and hand it to my friend there. That’s it, and nothing more.”
“Hell no!”
Magnus gave an even grin and his eyes narrowed. “Voluntarily or involuntarily, you will give up that uniform.”
Matt rose to his feet, glanced down at Cain, and turned his cuffed wrists toward Magnus. His eyes lost their hostility when Magnus neared and towered over him. A sense of renewed respect and fear reflected in the guard’s eyes.
Magnus unlocked the cuffs and took a step back. He halfway expected Matt to attempt to fight or charge, but he didn’t. He unzipped the uniform, slipped out of it, and placed his hands out to be re-cuffed.
“No, behind your back,” Magnus said.
Matt obeyed.
Magnus clamped the cuffs tightly behind Matt’s back, seated him against Cain, and then he interlocked Cain’s cuffs around Matt’s.
“Thanks for your cooperation,” Magnus said with a smile.
Matt opened his mouth to reply, and Magnus stuffed the sock back into Matt’s mouth. He patted Matt’s cheek. “Wow, and I didn’t even have to ask.”
The look of contempt returned to Matt’s gaze.
Magnus tossed the uniform to Carter. “Pull that over your clothes. We need to hurry before these men are reported missing. Once they come looking for them and find them in my cell, they’ll begin searching for me.”
Carter hurried and pulled on the uniform. Magnus handed the helmet to Carter. “Put this one on and lose your pilot helmet. Hurry up and let’s go.”
7
Grayson Enterprises, California
Senator Ralph Johnson pulled his silver Cadillac with mirrored windows through the security gate of Grayson Enterprises. He drove along the winding blacktop to the rear parking lot until he reached his reserved parking spot.
The senator stepped from his car, brushed his pants with his hands, and closed the door. Pressing his thumb against the car security panel, he said, “Doors lock.”
The doors audibly clicked into the locked position. The horn beeped once and the computer set the alarm. Johnson nervously glanced at his golden Rolex, sighed, and walked up the concrete sidewalk. God, he hated coming here, but only because of Boyd Grayson. Everything else about the property was pleasant, and if he had come for any other reason, he’d have taken the time to enjoy himself.
The sidewalk cut through a most brilliant, lavishly landscaped quad. Bright orange-red leaves on the spreading Japanese maples were breathtaking. The concrete path curved and meandered through a slender forest of weeping cherry trees, lilacs, palm trees, and hardy junipers. Two large brown squirrels bickered over a shriveled cherry, but quickly dispersed when Johnson’s hard-soled shoes clicked in his approach.
In the entire glorious splendor of Grayson’s landscape, Johnson held a bitter taste in his mouth. His stomach churned so badly that acid burned the back of his throat. No matter what Grayson’s empire looked like on the outside, it reminded him of nothing less than the glossy peel on a rotten apple—spectacular to behold, but inside it was filled with putrid, runny goo.
He hated visiting Grayson, but keeping his seat in the California Senate meant he had to appease the wealthy entrepreneur and his unusual political demands. Without Grayson’s financial support, Johnson held no hope of being elected simply because he was an old man and the people wanted someone younger, more popular, and much better looking. He entertained retiring, but he liked the cameras and luxuries as much as anyone else in southern California did. He’d rather die in office than lose his socioeconomic status.
The harsh noon sun struck the towering brass columns with silver-mirrored windows, forcing Johnson to put on his dark shades to shield his eyes. Even with the shades on, the intense glare stung his eyes, making him cup a hand above his eyes because it was impossible to look up. Grayson’s need to shine was even incorporated in the architecture of his enterprise.
Where the sidewalk leveled with the building, a row of gigantic, polished MarQuebes—each weighing well over a ton—were centered as attractive centerpieces to grace the building entrances. The MarQuebes were the first gems discovered from Grayson’s Mars exploration. The stones were dark like rubies but when held into direct light, they revealed their inner purplish hue. The blend of contrasting colors made them a prized stone, and since Grayson was the first and only man to land and stake a claim on Martian mining rights, he controlled the market without the fear of any competition.
Johnson paused outside one of Grayson’s gift shops where tourists often bought small bottles of Martian soil, pebbles, and rocks. On Mars, these were worthless, but to tourists, these prized novelties sold for untold millions. He shook his head in disgust. Were there items people would not buy?
Grayson had invested billions into his Mars excavation projects and reaped one thousand times more than what he had spent. With these endeavors, though, not one soul in Congress had ever dared breathe the words aloud, but they understo
od that Grayson owned Mars, Deimos, and the crashed remains of Phobos. His status wrought power, numerous friends, and a vast number of jealous enemies.
Johnson climbed the narrow cement stairwell, stopped, and wiped sweat from his brow. Excited children ran around the retired Vortex Shuttle, which was the first successful vessel to ever make a trip to Mars and back.
Other youths played virtual reality space battles on the laser tag field. Another school field trip, Johnson thought. For a price, of course. Everything connected to Grayson Enterprises had a price. Nothing was free. Not even water. No water fountains existed inside of Grayson Enterprises. If anyone wanted water, the vending machines were the only way to acquire it.
Johnson despised Grayson as much as he possessed a treasured need to be considered his friend. Grayson’s greed ran deep, and Johnson’s desire to feast from the table of plenty overwhelmed his rationality to flee and reclaim his soul. Grayson’s money lined Johnson’s pockets. The senator understood that no one stood in Grayson’s way. Opposing Grayson brought painful repercussions, physically or financially. Or both. Sometimes even death.
Several of Grayson’s most outspoken opponents had disappeared without explanation. No conclusive evidence ever surfaced to lay the blame on the tycoon. Money silenced a lot of people—prosecutors and judges alike. Johnson didn’t know a single person who had ever crossed Grayson and walked away unscathed.
Johnson kept his sunglasses on while he walked past several schoolteachers. He couldn’t tell from their expressions if they recognized him or not, so he ignored them. He had better things to worry about than hearing more complaints from parents who insisted that he do something about funding the state’s educational system. Sadly most parents placed the blame on the wrong groups. The more money given to the schools meant the less the students actually learned. School administrators tended to give themselves raises, install unnecessary testing programs, or simply squander the money on other projects rather than inject the money into hiring better teachers or buying educational books. However, no one ever correctly understood those correlations. By the time parents finally figured it out, Johnson would be long dead and gone, if they ever figured it out at all.
ESCAPE FROM MARS Page 5