ESCAPE FROM MARS

by G. T. Appleton

  Sylvia closed her eyes again. Perspiration dampened the back of her neck, beneath her arms, and trickled down her spine. She had never been afraid of crowds. Had she been locked away so long that she feared stepping into a public place? Most of her interaction inside the Olympus Mons Landing Bay was with a few mechanics and an occasional guard. Any time she had encountered a prisoner, she never experienced the possibility of a threat, mainly because the Sleeper Chips controlled them. Their eyes were frozen without judgment or any leering. The prisoners were nothing more than machines, obeying whatever commands the guards programmed. But here, in this bustling room of gambling hopefuls, they had the free will to gaze however they chose, but fortunately most were too busy counting their chips or rationing their tokens to give her the slightest second thought.

  Those seated at the slot machines whispered, prayed, and cursed while a few of the crazier ones chanted, rubbed their lucky charms, and busted. In what most considered faint noises and rhythms, to Sylvia the commotion was thunderous and aggressive. Would she ever be able to blend in with society without this sickening anxiety?

  “Miss?” a woman asked.

  Deep in her mental prison of desperate fear, she didn’t hear the waitress.

  The woman nudged her. “Miss, are you okay?”

  Sylvia jerked and her eyes opened. She screamed but quickly clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle her cry.

  “I’m sorry,” the topless hostess said, setting down her empty tray. She combed her blonde hair away from her blue eyes while she studied Sylvia with a concerned expression on her face. “Are you okay?”

  Sylvia’s eyes widened when she noticed the lack of attire this woman possessed. “I’m fine. I . . . I didn’t mean to scream.”

  “It’s okay. Is there anything I can help you with?” The woman straightened the hem of her emerald-studded miniskirt, which barely covered the V of her green panties. She also wore fishnet stockings and emerald high heels.

  Sylvia read the waitress’ sticker nametag and nodded. “Yes, thank you, Marti. I need to cash this chip in, but I don’t know where to do that.”

  “A thousand dollars? Wow, dear, Lady Luck shone full blast on you, eh?”

  Sylvia blushed and nodded. “I suppose so.”

  Marti smiled. “They’ll cash that for you at the cashier’s window. Follow me, and I’ll show you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Are you sure that everything’s okay?” Marti asked, glancing back. “You look a bit frightened.”

  “Crowds make me uncomfortable.”

  “You do look out of place,” Marti said with a gentle smile.

  “It has never bothered me before.”

  “Perhaps the excitement of winning is partly to blame?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sylvia followed Marti, but she kept her attention on Marti’s shoes to prevent making eye contact with anyone she walked past.

  “Here you are,” Marti said, waving her hand toward the window.

  “Thank you.”

  Sylvia walked to the bulletproof glass window and placed the chip through the small window. The cashier was a young man with tanned skin. His jaw was firm, and his brown eyes, piercing. His endearing smile caused her to blush.

  “Can you cash this for me?” she asked.

  The man behind the glass took the chip and nodded. “Certainly. How would you like it? Large bills or different denominations?”

  “I need a room, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “I can put it onto an in-casino card if you plan to use it here. Will that work?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, what’s your name?”

  Sylvia hesitated, trying to remember what name she told Carter she’d use. Then she said, “Tory Jones.”

  The man adjusted his black tie, smiled, and typed the name into the computer. A second later he looked at her.

  “Do you have some identification, Tory?”

  Sylvia patted her pockets and nervously shook her head. “No. I lost my purse.”

  “Okay, in that case, I’ll give you large bills.” He licked his thumb and counted out ten one hundred dollar bills. After she took the money, he pointed. “Take the money to the registry desk over there. Casey can help you get a room for the night.”

  “Will I need identification?”

  “Usually,” he said, “but if you, erm, tip her, I’m sure she’ll make an exception.” He grinned. “Tell her Burt sent you.”

  Sylvia returned the smile. “O-okay, thanks.”

  She hurried to the desk where a heavyset older woman stood. Her silver hair twisted upward in a strange bun design. Casey wore more eyeliner and rouge than most of the stage girls, and her red lipstick made the woman look cheap and childish. She chomped on stale chewing gum, much like a cow chewed its cud.

  “I need a room,” Sylvia said in a near whisper. “I don’t have any identification, but Burt over there said that you could help me, provided I give you a decent tip?”

  The woman glanced over at Burt. He waved and grinned. “Sure, honey. Let me see what I can do. How many nights will you be staying?”

  “Tonight.”

  “And your name?”

  She hesitated in giving her name. Her mind went blank. Her eyes looked up, and she bit her lower lip while he searched her memory. “T-t-tory . . . Jones.”

  The fake name didn’t flow smoothly, and the expression on Casey’s face indicated that a lot of people probably made up names for discretion’s sake.

  “I see. Will you be staying alone, Tory?”

  Sylvia shook her head. “No. My friend will be here soon.”

  “Oh, your friend.” Casey rolled her eyes. “Does your friend have a name?”

  “Yes. Rick Davenport.” Sylvia thought it odd that she remembered Carter’s fake name better than her own.

  “So how much money do you have?” Casey asked.

  “One thousand dollars.”

  Casey slid a coded door key to her.

  “How much?” Sylvia asked.

  “One thousand, honey.”

  “All of it?”

  Casey nodded. “Welcome to Vegas, honey. But the good news is that you have a penthouse suite since I had a cancellation.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” Casey replied. “Unless you’d like something a bit more modest?”

  Sylvia swallowed hard and shook her head. After what she, Carter, and Magnus had experienced, she agreed with Magnus that maybe their luck in finding the chip was a good indication that their lives were turning around.

  Sylvia slid the money across the desk. Casey eagerly took it. “When your friend gets here, I’ll send him to your room.”

  “Thank you.”

  Casey grinned, counting the money. “No, my dear, thank you.”

  Sylvia’s heart plummeted, thinking of spending the entire amount of money for one room, but then she thought about what Magnus and Carter were selling. Those stones were worth much more than the casino chip. Carter would return with possibly more money than what she’d ever seen before she went to prison.

  She smiled and took the room code key. The first thing she wanted to do before Carter returned was to take a hot bath. The quick, modestly lukewarm showers on the shuttle hadn’t made her feel clean. She wanted to fill the tub up to her neck and soak for as long as she could. Life, she believed, was about to get much better for her.

  Subtlety of life has often never been what the imagination built. True lessons in life are usually paid with a heavy, unexpected price.

  68

  Eli nervously glanced over his shoulder at Magnus and Carter while he tapped the code into the electronic security door lock. Beads of sweat formed on the pawnshop owner’s brow, which made Magnus wonder if the man was extremely nervous about their deal or if the man had a more sinister plot in mind. Either way, Magnus didn’t trust taking his eyes off this man, and he refused to until the money and gems changed hands. Once they were safely outside the pawnshop, he�
��d forget about Eli and Vegas forever.

  The door lock changed from secured to green. The lock clicked. Eli smiled and pulled the door open.

  “Seems everything’s all electronic anymore, eh?” Eli said, stepping into his small office.

  “Yep,” Magnus replied.

  A small desk was on the far side of the room. Several rusted filing cabinets were behind the desk and were covered with a thin layer of dust.

  “I suppose you don’t spend much time back here, do you?” Magnus asked, trying to keep a polite conversation going.

  Eli shook his head. “No. I have a young woman that works with me during the morning hours until I arrive at noon. Since I work the rest of the day, I never get a chance to be back here. Someone needs to watch the front for customers.”

  “Why not hire more people?” Carter asked, gripping the briefcase handle tightly.

  “Less profit and more paperwork to do. Besides, I don’t trust people that much.”

  “And your father?” Carter asked.

  Eli rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Never around since he married that stripper a few months ago. Always on vacation.”

  “It happens sometimes,” Magnus said.

  “I guess. I always thought that midlife crisis crap was made up, but hell, you should see the young woman he’s with. He drives a Corvette convertible. His money is the only reason she’s into him. Hell, my stepmom is younger than me.”

  “Maybe you should flash money around, too,” Carter said.

  “Believe me. I’ve thought about it.”

  Eli walked to one of the filing cabinets and knelt at the floor safe. After fidgeting with the combination lock for a few moments, he lifted the small metal top of the safe. A second later a loud click broke the silence. Before Eli stood and turned to aim his gun, Magnus hit him hard enough to send the Eli to the floor. The gun scraped across the grimy tile floor and out of their reach.

  With one hand, Magnus grabbed the front of Eli’s jacket and hefted the man off the floor and pinned him hard against the wall. His feet dangled a good twelve inches off the floor.

  Eli grimaced as Magnus pressed against the man’s throat. “I had a bad feeling about the two of you. Take what you want, okay? Please don’t kill me.”

  Magnus looked back at Carter and nodded toward the open safe. “Carter, count out fifty thousand from the floor safe.”

  Carter walked to the safe while Magnus frowned at Eli and shoved harder against the man’s throat. Carter found an empty gym bag and pulled it near the safe.

  Magnus glared into Eli’s eyes. “Your bad feeling was that you didn’t pull your gun on us fast enough. All we wanted was the trade. Nothing more.”

  “Sorry,” Eli said softly.

  Carter placed the bundles of large bills into the gym bag beside his briefcase. “That’s fifty thousand, but I don’t think he deserves the gems.”

  Magnus shook his head. “No, a deal’s a deal, no matter how badly greed controls him.”

  Eli’s face was nearly purple.

  When Magnus eased his grip, Eli said, “I’m sorry. I honestly thought you were going to hold me up, keep the gems, and take the money. Honest. I’ve been robbed many times. Besides, my father’s almost bankrupted us.”

  “That you need to work out with him,” Magnus said, pressing Eli against the wall.

  Eli nodded nervously.

  Magnus released him. The man dropped to the floor and backed against the wall. Magnus took the envelope of MarQuebes and tucked it into Eli’s jacket pocket. He picked up the gun and the gym bag filled with money. Then he nodded toward the door adjacent to the desk.

  “Is that a back way out?” Magnus asked.

  “Yes.”

  Magnus smiled. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

  He tossed the gun across the room, and opened the door that led to the quieter alley. Before Magnus stepped outside the door, Carter grabbed the gun, stood over Eli and pointed the gun at the man’s head.

  “Carter, what are you doing?” Magnus asked.

  In a low, almost hypnotic tone, Carter replied, “We can’t afford to have any witnesses.”

  Eli covered his face with both hands. “Please, don’t kill me.”

  Tears streamed down the man’s face as he peered through opened fingers. He whimpered like a pathetic spoiled child.

  “You were going to rob us, possibly kill us,” Carter said in a hypnotic tone.

  “I’m sorry!” Eli shouted. “Okay? Please?”

  Carter steadied his aim. His eyes became distant, cold, and black. The cold expression on his face reminded Magnus of the hardened prisoners he had seen in the Texas prison. People like that were heartless and killed for the pure sport of it. He understood Carter had some issues with possible posttraumatic stress after what had happened on Deimos, but he never expected to see this kind of callousness in a man that had once been a medical examiner.

  “Carter,” Magnus said. “We have what we came for, so put the gun down.”

  Carter’s eyes narrowed. He inched the gun closer to Eli’s face. His hands didn’t shake, but from what Magnus knew about Carter, the doctor didn’t know how to use a gun. Or at least that was what Carter had implied on Mars.

  “Carter! This man is not Grayson. We got what we came for. Now, let’s go!”

  Carter shook his head. “No. Sorry, but I can’t. He’s seen us. He has to die.”

  Carter squeezed the trigger, Eli winced and screamed, but the safety prevented the gun from firing. Carter squeezed harder. Still nothing. Magnus lowered his head and charged at Carter like a giant linebacker determined to tackle a quarterback. Magnus hit Carter and lifted him off the floor, and then he landed on top of him. The gun slid even further across the room.

  Carter blinked in surprise and groaned, clutching his ribs. “Damn! What was that for?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? We have the money. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Magnus rose and yanked Carter to his feet. Carter grabbed the briefcase with one hand while still clutching his ribs. He quickly checked to see that Magnus’ tackle hadn’t jarred the case open. He sighed with relief that the latches had held securely.

  Magnus grabbed the money and shook his head in anger as they headed out the door into the alley. His back and arm muscles were pumped with swollen veins. A small growl rumbled in his throat as he stormed ahead of Carter, not looking back. The coming night darkened the alleyway where several dumpsters rested against the rough walls alongside the alleys.

  “Wait up!” Carter said, sprinting to catch up.

  Magnus huffed. His muscular jaw tightened, but he held his anger back, refusing to answer. His huge hands tightened into thick fists.

  “What happened back there?” Carter asked, running around in front of Magnus to stop him.

  Magnus shoved him aside.

  “You best get away from me, Dr. Carter.”

  “Please, Magnus, tell me what I did? Why did you knock me to the floor?”

  Magnus glared into Carter’s frightened eyes. The doctor looked completely different than he had inside the pawnshop when he held the gun on Eli. The darkness in his eyes had faded. A childlike innocence looked questionably at Magnus.

  “You really don’t know?” Magnus asked.

  “Honest. I don’t.”

  “Don’t be bullshitting me,” Magnus said in an angered growl.

  Carter shook his head in defeat. “I don’t remember anything other than when I counted out the fifty thousand dollars while you were choking Eli.”

  “If that’s true, Carter, you need to take part of your share and seek medical help. A good psychological examination would be in your best interest.”

  “Okaaay?” Carter said. “Why?”

  “You had the gun aimed at Eli’s head and tried to pull the trigger twice. If the safety had not been on, you’d have become a cold blooded killer.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hell, yeah. Why would I start lyi
ng to you? You need to get your shit together before you go on a killing spree or something, man.”

  “You’re right. I need to have a doctor check me out. Things black out on me from time to time.”

  “You keep going into some kind of trance.”

  “I feel fine though.”

  “That’s the danger. You have no forewarning of slipping from your present reality and zoning into whatever crazy state of mind you veer to. Come on. We need to get out of this alley before the shop owner has the cops bust us.”

  Carter frowned and looked back over his shoulder. “You think he’d do that?”

  Magnus shrugged. “Depends on how pissed he is that you held that gun on him. The best you can hope for is that you scared him too much that he doesn’t want the chance that we’ll ever go back there.”

  “We’d best hurry then.”

  “That’d be my thinking, too.”

  “Thanks, Magnus,” Carter said.

  “For what?”

  Tears formed in Carter’s eyes. “Thanks for stopping me from killing that man. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

  “I won’t be around much longer to stop you when you shift into a different psychological zone. You’d best get some medical help soon. I’d hate to get the news that you killed Sylvia. She’s been good to you and deserves a better fate.”

  “I know. I would never hurt her.”

  “And if you ever hurt her, there’ll be no stopping me from finding you and making you pay. Understand?” Magnus held a fierce unyielding stare.

  Carter nodded.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  69

  When the elevator opened on the penthouse floor, Sylvia slipped off her shoes. Her bare feet sank into the lavender plush carpet with its golden patterned designs. The soft fibers seemed to hug the rough bottoms of her feet. The comfort of the carpet was the most pleasurable amenity she had experienced in a long while. As tired and stressed as she was, she pictured herself stretching out on the carpet and sleeping more comfortably than she had during the past couple of years on Mars and during the shuttle trips.