The hologram face reddened and craters appeared across its huge cheeks. Mars reappeared, spinning.
“Life did flourish here, during the Hesperian Era. That was nearly two billion years ago. An entire ecosystem that vanished along with all its oxygen. Our best archaeologists have scoured Mars for decades but few clues remain. No record of their appearance, their culture or history survives. Only the extremely rare artefact that occasionally turns up in the sand.”
The revolving planet changed. The surface smoothed over. Grooves multiplied around its circumference, forming patterns and symbols. Zeke’s heart skipped a beat. It was Professor Magma’s orb!
“Only four have been found and each proved deadly. If you ever, EVER, come across a Hesperian relic, whatever you do, do NOT touch it. Do I make myself clear?”
The shocked students murmured in agreement. The orb picture dissolved to reveal the woman herself, standing at her podium. They were all seated again, as if nothing had happened.
Chapter Nine
Ophir Chasma
Zeke pushed the pedals faster and faster. The Rover raced effortlessly along the dirt track. After a lifetime in Earth’s gravity, cycling on Mars was easy.
He twiddled the brake lever, which activated the rear cam. A holoscreen popped up above the handlebars. He searched for a glimpse of the others. Nothing but dust. Then Zeke lifted his head. The cool Martian sun was dipping to the west. Ahead a vast slope towered five miles high, the remains of a colossal prehistoric landslide.
“I LOVE MARS!” he hollered at the empty canyons.
An outcrop of tall, sharp rocks like switchblades loomed in front. Zeke pedalled between them. As he emerged from their shadows the path dropped sharply. The bike plummeted but Zeke skilfully skidded to a halt. Moments later, Pin-mei zoomed over the rim. She lost her balance and landed in a cloud of red sand.
“Mars is fun!” she smirked. But the smirk was short-lived. Pin-mei picked a handful of dirt and allowed it to drop through her fingers. “But I still miss my mummy and daddy.”
Zeke pulled her up, trying to think of something a big brother might say. A few kind words to chase away her glum expression. As nothing popped into his head he decided to change the subject.
“Where’s Scuff?”
“Here,” came a voice.
They glanced up to see the Canadian, dismounted and pouting.
“Pedal-power is for jocks, not boy geniuses,” he grumbled, and gingerly walked his bicycle down to join them.
“I brought chrysanthemum milk and rice cakes,” Pin-mei said more cheerfully.
The friends sat down on a convenient boulder. A single furrow formed on Pin-mei’s smooth forehead. A milk carton rose from her backpack as if on a string. It glided through the air and landed on Zeke’s lap. A second floated into Scuff’s grasp and a third to Pin-mei. Three sweet dumplings, coloured candy pink, also levitated up and out. Scuff hungrily swallowed one.
“Pin’s getting good at psychokinesis,” Zeke said.
“It’s easier on Mars,” Pin-mei replied.
“The weaker gravity?”
“Yes, and no magnetic field. I feel like my mind’s waking up.”
“Me too!” Scuff interrupted, clearly a little jealous.
He stared intensely at his yellow carton. It wobbled into the air and then—KERSPLAT—exploded! Zeke and Pin-mei tried very hard not to laugh. Scuff was dripping with milk.
“You need to practice,” Zeke said through gritted teeth.
“At least I’m not a bad luck magnet, bro.”
“Huh? You mean me upsetting the Principal?”
“And, like, stopping the Televator, jamming the wings on my sycamore, not to mention your hallucinations.”
After seeing the orb in Lutz’s ‘slideshow’ Zeke had blurted out what really happened onboard the Televator. It all seemed too unbelievable, not to mention scary, to keep secret. The truth had escaped him like air from a balloon. At first his friends had reacted with scepticism, then bewilderment and finally concern.
“It wasn’t a hallucination. It was more of…a message,” Zeke replied.
“You should tell the Principal. Remember what she said. Martian relics can be fatal,” Scuff warned. Pin-mei nodded in agreement.
“That would only show I went through Magma’s belongings without permission. And I’m not sure I trust Principal Lutz. She’s strange. But Magma is up to something and I’m going to find out what, before I speak to the authorities.”
“Don’t you think you’ll be too busy fooling the instructors?” Pin-mei asked with a sweet smile. Every muscle in Zeke’s body tightened. She knew! He threw an accusing glare at Scuff.
“Bro! I had to tell someone. And she is your bud.”
The Chinese girl placed her hand on Zeke’s and fixed him with her intense stare. Sometimes, Zeke thought to himself, Pin-mei seemed a lot older than eleven.
“Scuff and I have a plan,” she said.
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Just stick close to us in class. If the teachers tell you to perform a psychic act we can do it for you. I like being part of a secret.”
Zeke grinned. “Well I don’t think that will be necessary. By the start of next term and psychic practice I’ll be long gone.”
Pin-mei’s face dropped.
“But you can help me track down my dad’s records,” Zeke added quickly.
“How will you do that, smart stuff?” Scuff asked in a sceptical voice.
“Um, well, I’m still working on that one. But they must keep records somewhere.”
“Then all you have to do is get back into space and hitch a ride on a Far-Ship going in the right direction. While you’re at it, why don’t you lasso a black hole and ride it side-saddle?”
“Hey, I’ve got this far, haven’t I?” Zeke snapped, trying to sound confident.
Pin-mei beamed at him. “Zeke is very clever for a non-psychic. If he says he can do it, he can. Don’t forget, thought is the most powerful force in the universe.”
“Hey look!” Scuff pointed to the distance.
A column of dirt, caught by a breeze, danced across the plain.
“A mini-whirlwind!” Pin-mei cooed.
“Albie, do you register that weather phenomena? What is it?” Zeke asked.
His bike bleeped into life. “It’s called a dust devil, Mr Zeke. Hot air rising off the ground through cold air starts to rotate, commonly found in desert environments. Some Earth cultures think of them as bad spirits. The Martian dust-devils have been observed since the first landings.”
The dust devil petered out and another picked up a few feet further on. Pin-mei stared strangely at the tiny cyclone.
“Pin?” Zeke asked.
She shook herself. “There’s something really creepy about them. As though—”
Scuff stamped his foot. “Enough with the cloud spotting. My belly’s busting and it’s dinnertime.”
“OK, last one back to School’s a Martian tomato,” Zeke cried, and pedalled off.
~~~
The Cranny Cafeteria had been a simple crack in the cliff for millions of years. Then the school’s architects came along and transformed it into a glassed-off canteen. The sweeping view of Mariners Valley was breathtaking.
Zeke and his friends walked in to find a long, hungry queue of students. At the front automacs were serving food over a counter. These robotic workers resembled bulky vending machines with extendable arms and legs.
“Cajun chicken with fries,” Scuff ordered.
“With ketchup, Sir?” the machine droned.
“Sure, you got low cal?”
“Yes, Sir, anything else?”
“Nope.”
The automac made a mechanical grunt and the meal popped out of an opening in its belly. The spicy smell tugged at Zeke’s stomach.
“Same for me.”
Once Pin-mei had her noodle soup they found a spare table. All three dived ravenously into their meals.
“
Oi! Move!”
It was Snod, flanked by a couple of beefy older boys.
“This is Trixie’s table. Don’t you know anything?”
“Sorry, we were here first. Can’t we just share?” Zeke suggested.
Snod flashed them a look of alarm. “Trixie Cutter rules the roost here. She’s a powerful psychokinetic. Stronger than some of the teachers.”
“Sheesh, I’m wetting myself,” Scuff replied casually.
The tall girl with the perfect ponytail strode up, carrying a tray of salad. She smiled at them with all the charm of a piranha.
“I’m counting to three then you Earthworms better disappear,” she said.
Zeke felt his temper rising.
“We aren’t going anywhere.”
Electricity crackled deep in the girl’s eyes. Zeke’s dinner plate flipped a somersault and chicken sauce splattered his head. Scuff suffered a worse indignity. An invisible hand pulled back the waistband of his slacks and dumped the contents of his plate inside. Pin-mei’s chair toppled and she fell to the floor. Her bowl whizzed into the air, drenching the three friends in soup.
Zeke leapt to his feet. Before he could protest a chicken wing rammed itself into his mouth. He began choking.
“You really must chew first. Let me help,” Trixie said in a cold voice, and chucked her glass of water over his head.
Spluttering, he coughed out the wing and rubbed his eyes.
“Still here, bluey?” Trixie sneered. “Your pals had more sense.”
Zeke turned to see Scuff and Pin-mei bounding for the door. There was nothing he could do but join the retreat.
~~~
That night Zeke’s sleep was plagued by nightmares. He dreamt again of the fiery landscape. This time, instead of the giant inhuman face, it was Trixie Cutter as big as a skyscraper. She came storming over the smoking volcanoes. Laser beams zapped from her eyeballs and incinerated everything they touched.
Zeke turned to flee and saw a tall brawny Mariner beckoning in the distance. His father! Before Zeke could move a huge wall burst from the red soil, blocking his escape and cutting off his father.
One large word was carved into the bricks.
Zeke read the letters aloud, struggling with syllables impossible for human vocal chords.
“Klriinthnga.”
Inexplicably Zeke recognised the word. The Spiral-Killer!
Chapter Ten
Translocation for beginners
Zeke glanced at his schedule. He was definitely in the right place. A long flight of steps had led him down to a subterranean chamber and the creaky door before him. Not the impressive location he’d expected for the most important subject in the solar system. Telepathy classes took place in the shiny new annexe across the courtyard and at least Psychokinesis 101 was above ground. The name over the doorway proclaimed a Mariner Adrian Knimble. Zeke wondered what kind of teacher passed his working hours at the bottom of this hole.
Inside the windowless classroom the purple and silver of photon-lamps danced on the shadows. Zeke took a seat in the back row and looked around. Replicas of famous rockets dangled from the ceiling: a Saturn V, a Russian Tsyclon, the early Go-Ships. The walls were decorated with atomic symbols and equations, quite meaning-less to Zeke.
“It’s not as difficult as you think.”
Zeke jumped to his feet. He hadn’t realised anyone else was there.
A bald, wiry man with a goatee beard stood by the plasma-board.
“Excuse me, Sir! I didn’t see you.”
“You couldn’t have,” replied the teacher with an Australian accent.
The penny dropped. Mariner Knimble had translocated into the classroom. Well, it was his field.
“An early student. This indicates a keen thirst for knowledge or—”
Zeke puffed out his chest and tried to look scholarly.
“—a total lack of friends, and therefore nothing better to do.”
Zeke deflated rapidly. The teacher was right.
“Name?”
“Hailey.”
“Hailey you say? And with hair the colour of ink!”
Knimble breezed down the aisle. His deep, pale eyes gazed through Zeke like an X-ray. “Any relation to Cole Hailey?”
At last someone who remembered!
“My father, Sir. Did you know him?”
“Never play poker with a telepath. Your father won a fortune in Martian dollars from me.”
Zeke forced a smile.
“So he was good at mind-reading then?”
“Skilled all-rounder, as I recall. Ah, I see! You were too young to get acquainted before he went Deep Side. Sad.”
Knimble’s faraway stare pierced Zeke briefly then focused beyond, as though observing the far side of the galaxy.
“What did you think of Dad’s mission?” Zeke said, trying to sound casual.
“His mission? Where did he go?”
“You don’t know?”
“Why should I?—Oh, you don’t know either? You’re fishing, but why?”
Zeke squirmed under the Mariner’s scrutiny. He decided to change the subject.
“My hair? Mum likes to say a cartridge of—”
“Nano-dye fell on your head. I see you have inherited your father’s jokes, as well as his peculiar hair,” Knimble remarked dryly.
Thankfully, at that moment, a couple of Zeke’s classmates dived through the door.
“Ah, come in Earthworms, come in.” Knimble beamed and held out his arms in welcome.
More students piled in quickly. Knimble greeted them all, ticking names off the digital register, before returning to the front.
“Firstly, congratulations on entering the Ophir Chasma School for Psychic Endeavour. Or the Chasm as you probably call it.”
The class giggled politely.
“Of all the psychic sciences Translocation is the most crucial. As Principal Lutz explained in her welcoming speech, it makes the Cosmic Migration happen. Conventional space travel takes thousands of years just to get from one star to another. Turtle travel I call it.
“But thanks to us, humanity is sprinting across the Milky Way like hares. This is Man’s defining moment, all thanks to translocation. Psychokinesis, precognition, telepathy, well, they’re just party tricks in comparison.
“So, can anyone explain the science?”
The Mariner surveyed the class for an answer. Only one student was cocky enough to reply. Scuff raised a chubby finger in the air.
“The Big Bang Theory, String Theory and various other theories all agree that the Universe started out the size of a dime—”
“Canadian propaganda! I heard it was a penny!” Snod cried.
“Quiet!” Knimble said through a steely smile.
Scuff sent a look of scorn in Snod’s direction and went on. “On the sub-subatomic level the Universe is still that size. But our brains see the world in three dimensions—”
“In other words the dimensions of length, width, depth. What mathematicians call Euclidean Geometry.”
“Yes, Mariner Knimble. The average human can’t see the interconnectedness of everything. In fact he’d go totally nuts if he did. Then a famous egghead, Doctor Kajacofski, came up with the Theory of Unrelativity. This suggested the psychic brain could sidestep reality, pass through the sub-subatomic level, and emerge anywhere in the Universe.”
Scuff paused to take breath. A sea of baffled faces surrounded him.
“And your name is?” Knimble asked.
“Surly Bum-Brain,” Snod piped up, but the entire class ignored him.
“Barnum, Sir.”
“Very good, young Barnum. Very good indeed. I’ll take it from there. Let me demonstrate.”
Mariner Knimble drew himself to his full height. He took a step towards the front desks. On the second step his eyes crackled. On the third he blurred and by the fourth he was gone. Mouths dropped all around the classroom.
“Over here!”
Twenty heads swivelled a hundred and e
ighty degrees. Knimble sat on an empty desk munching an apple.
“Pinched this from the canteen. Don’t tell the automacs.”
More giggles.
“So I just bypassed laws of physics. I walked from here to the canteen and back by the most direct route, the sub-subatomic. But why couldn’t I pick this apple from a tree on Earth?”
Scuff yawned and raised his hand once again.
“Someone else?”
Pin-mei gave a little wave. “Gravitational distortion. To get to Earth you must escape Mars’ gravity. But just as we can’t jump off Mars, we can’t translocate off it either.”
“And trying to do so would be very, very dangerous. That’s why interplanetary travel starts and ends up there.” Knimble pointed heavenwards.
All this science was hurting Zeke’s brain. He raised a hand.
“So psychics can just imagine their way across the galaxy?”
“In time, with years of practise and some technological assistance, yes.”
“And other galaxies, could we think ourselves there?”
“In theory, yes. But no human has the brain power to get that far, even with our bio-mechanical boosters.”
Scuff waved his hand. “String Theory states that countless parallel universes exist. Have the Mariners ever tried to translocate between dimensions?”
Knimble laughed as if Scuff had said something very stupid. “Do parallel universes exist? Probably. Can we visit them? Never.”
The students stared at him vacantly.
“Strewth! Okay, imagine the universe is a motorway. Every time a new universe is created it’s like the motorway branching off into two. Then four and so on till there are gazillions of motorways running parallel. You are a car driving along one motorway. There’s no way of leaving your motorway and joining another as once they split they are separate forever.”
“So why not go backwards till you come to an exit?” Scuff asked.
“In case you hadn’t noticed motorways are one-way. The same with universes. You’d have to travel back in time, which is also impossible. But even if you could, and tried to change lanes you would end up on the same motorway. That’s what we call Quantum Decoherence. The motorway would adjust itself at a faster-than-light speed. You’d never even notice.”
The Infinity Trap Page 5