A Wilderness of Mirrors

by R J Johnson

  “My imagination generally gets me in trouble most days,” Meade replied dryly.

  The professor smirked, and then forced a chuckle.

  “The big picture, that’s what we’re working on here,” the professor said waving his armbar in front of another door they arrived at. “What is the best possible teacher in life?”

  “My old Captain was a hard case,” Meade thought back to Captain Gozales and how he had always expected the best out of him. “He made sure I learned every lesson twice.”

  “I’m not talking about people,” the professor said.

  “Experience,” Emeline said, her voice echoing through the hall.

  The professor looked back at her nodding. “Precisely. Experience.”

  The door to the laboratory opened, revealing a series of people in lab coats working intently on a series of test tubes and computer screens.

  “These fine folks are working on one of our most important contributions to humanity,” the professor said, beaming as he waved to the people working in the lab. “The Methuselah Project.”

  Emeline looked over in shock at the professor. “Life extension? But I thought that line of research was illegal –”

  “It’s illegal for citizens who recognize the Last War treaties, which we do not here at Shangri-La,” the professor said. “Within our borders, we are free to pursue whatever secrets the universe is trying to keep hidden from us.”

  “Some things are meant to be kept away from barely conscious, stupid baby apes,” Emeline growled.

  “True enough,” the professor said, sounding amused. “But science inevitably leads into its own discoveries. That is to say, someone would be researching this stuff, why shouldn’t it be me? Someone who intends to use it to help humanity?”

  Emeline shook her head.

  “What if someone bigger comes along and try to take your toys?” she asked.

  The professor shook his head, “They have tried and have not returned since.”

  Suddenly, Meade felt a flash of insight and he felt like a fool for not putting it together sooner. The professor was Palmetto’s mysterious enemy that had the ambassador running scared.

  He glanced over at Emeline who seemed to pick up on the implication of the professor’s words as well. The only people around here who might try to take on the professor and his complex were the Barbarians or the Coalition. Neither party were shrinking violets in the violence category.

  The professor turned back to the lab, a smile spreading across his face.

  “Preventing research like life-expansion is a disaster. Do you have any idea how many Last War veterans are dying per day now?”

  Meade couldn’t say for sure. The war had taken place over sixty years ago, so it was hard to imagine there was a lot of them left.

  “Seventy-five,” the professor replied, deadpan. “And it gets worse every day. Soon, there won’t be anyone left alive to recall the horrors nuclear war brought humanity. We lose centuries of human experiences and knowledge every day – one of our most precious resources - and we throw it away because of a silly piece of paper diplomats signed sixty years ago.”

  The professor turned back to them, his face red from speaking.

  “Imagine what kind of discoveries await humanity if we could double, or even triple a person’s average lifespan.”

  “Our people don’t need extra years,” Meade said firmly.

  “Our people need food,” Emeline finished.

  The professor waved a finger.

  “If it’s food you want, it’s food you shall have. Thanks to the genetic modifications our people have been able to accomplish our crops have some of the highest yields in history.”

  “What kind of crops?” Meade asked. His stomach rumbled and he realized he was starving. It occurred to him that he hadn’t had a thing to eat since a leftover K-ration two days ago.

  “Corn, wheat, tomatoes, cucumbers...” the professor extended his hands. “We do it all and in short cycles. We can grow and harvest a crop of tomatoes within a week’s time. And once you taste what our crops have to offer, you’ll never want to eat anything else ever again.

  “But the Coalition and Consortium have a lockdown on everyone’s food supply,” the professor added. “They refuse to use our genetically modified crops, citing the treaty signed after the Last War.

  “The treaty brought peace perhaps, but it came at the expense of progress,” the professor continued. “Imagine how much faster the Homeworld’s recovery would be if they had access to the kind of technologies I’ve invented.”

  “What is it that you want from us?” Meade asked. Something didn’t feel right. There had to be a catch as to why the professor was giving them the nickel tour for free.

  “Your independence movement has similar goals to our own,” the professor said diplomatically. “The complete collapse of the Coalition’s hold on Mars. If you can take control of New Plymouth, the rest of the megacities on Mars will fall to your control. We can help you do that.”

  “And in return?” Meade asked, suspicious.

  The professor grinned. “We simply wish to be left alone so we can conduct our research in peace.”

  Meade and Emeline considered the professor’s offer in silence.

  “What makes you think we’re even capable of taking New Plymouth?” Emeline finally asked. “All the MiM’s really do is raid supply convoys and harass troop movements. We can’t do any real damage to the Coalition.”

  “You could with our technology,” the professor said eagerly. “We have handheld weapons capable of ripping an aerocycle-sized hole in the side of a Coalition fast attack ship.”

  Meade glanced at Emeline who returned his look with a quick shake of her head. She was right. No matter how the professor and his wife couched it, these people were kidnapping citizens of New Plymouth for their own nefarious means and that was reason enough to avoid getting into bed with them.

  “Thing is professor, we have a problem,” he said. “You and your people have been taking folks from the Lady Luck casino. Friends of ours. That’s going to be hard to explain without getting their consent on record somehow.”

  The professor grimaced. “That’s a fair point, but at this stage, secrecy is paramount to our success.”

  He paused, “I want to show you one last thing before you make your decision.”

  Emeline and Meade exchanged a look.

  He looked back at the professor. “All right.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Respect

  The ride to the other side of the complex didn’t take them long. The professor drove them to their next destination on a small golf cart that zipped through the hallways at breakneck speed.

  Meade was impressed by hallways which afforded them a view of the Martian canyon the colony was located above. The professor said the walls were made of a transparent ceramic that kept them safe from the elements.

  The hallway opened into an enormous antechamber where dozens of people were striding back and forth, going about their daily business. Meade marveled at the amount of people all in one space who weren’t pushing and shoving each other constantly.

  “Welcome to the Hangout,” the professor said, beaming with pride. “I like to think the living arrangements we provide our people here are easily the best in the system. The condos available to our residents rival some of the best ones you’d pay millions for on one of the massive orbital cities.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Emeline whispered to Meade.

  He grunted and allowed that the layout of the colony and the technologies he’d seen so far were impressive. The bright white interior and flashing neon everywhere spoke to the high-tech nature of the entire city.

  “My own penthouse is located at the top of the High Tower,” the professor said. “It’s not as extravagant as it sounds, I promise you that.”

  “You mentioned you had something to show us?” Meade reminded the professor.

  “Yes of course,” the pr
ofessor said. “Come along.”

  They walked through the outdoor market to one of the apartment buildings located on the eastern side of the massive antechamber. They entered the building where several people waved hello and greeted the professor as he passed by. He stopped several times, greeting each person, sometimes hugging them close. It quickly became clear to Meade and Emeline that the professor was someone who was greatly respected and admired in Shangri-La.

  After making their way through the glad-handers, the professor took them to an elevator and pressed a button for the sixtieth floor.

  “What did you want to show us?” he asked, sounding confused.

  “You saw it,” he said.

  Meade didn’t understand, but he could see by Emeline’s tight smile that she did.

  “He wanted us to see how his people treated him,” she told him.

  The professor grinned. “She’s a smart one.”

  “The smartest,” he said. “But I don’t get it. You could have set those people up in advance.”

  “Perhaps,” the professor said. “Did you sense any of that?”

  “No,” Emeline admitted. “They clearly respect you as their leader. That’s not easy, believe me. I don’t understand what you thought you could prove with that.”

  “It’s my way of proving to you I’m not a threat,” the professor said.

  Meade found himself finding respect for the man standing in front of him. “My mentor always told me you could tell the caliber of a leader by the way his people followed him.”

  “I’ve said something similar,” the professor said, smiling back at Meade.

  The elevator slowed and opened on an open home floor plan. He glanced inside the room and looked over at the professor.

  “This is where we have you staying for the next few days,” the professor said, waving them inside. “Please, do come in. It’s one of our best suites. I only want you to have the best while you stay with us.”

  “A shower would go a long way to mending fences,” Meade admitted.

  The professor clapped his hands in glee, happy at their acquiescence. “Excellent. And tonight, you shall join my wife and I at dinner and we can discuss how Shangri-La will assist the rebellion.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Emeline said. The elevator opened, and the professor stepped back inside.

  “It really has been my honor to show you around my little colony here. If you have any questions, simply tap the screen next to the bed and it will help you get anything you might need.”

  “Thank you, professor,” Meade said, extending his hand. The professor placed his soft hand in his, pumping it up and down.

  “I look forward to tonight Mr. Meade,” the professor said. “I have a feeling this is the beginning of a new and profitable relationship.”

  “Yeah, let’s hope so,” he said, releasing the professor’s hand.

  The door slid shut, leaving him alone with Emeline for the first time in two days.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Camouflage

  The moment the elevator door closed Meade took two steps and pulled Emeline into the tightest hug he had ever given her.

  “I thought I lost you,” he whispered. He wasn’t much of a crier, but the wetness at the edges of his eyes belied that fact.

  “You can’t lose me,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. “I’m gonna be around to kick your ass forever.”

  “Damn well better be,” he said. He kissed her, enjoying the sensation of feeling the warmth of her body up against his own. They hadn’t been apart this long since they getting together a few years ago.

  He was about to tear off the paper-thin clothing they had loaned them when she pushed him away, a finger placed at her lips.

  He cocked his head, confused at her reaction. She pointed all around them and then placed a hand to her ear mouthing they’re listening.

  His stomach sank. She was probably right. Even if the professor played the part of a straight shooter, there was no telling what the man’s true motives were.

  Still, the professor appeared to answer their questions honestly and without reservation. He even revealed his secret research lab. That alone could have a half-dozen Coalition’s fast attacks come after the city if Meade wanted to make trouble for the professor.

  It was possible the professor’s honesty was part of the ruse. There was no way of knowing what was going on at Shangri-La, but Meade’s gut was telling him not all of it was good.

  In fact, he was betting on it.

  There was something off about the whole colony. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but it mostly came from the professor’s example of how the people around here treated him. The residents here were more than grateful - they treated the professor as if he were their savior.

  He initially chalked that up to the man building a reputation through his astonishing inventions. But, after some of the people’s reactions in the courtyard, he wondered if there was more at play here.

  He stood up straight and looked at Emeline. “I like the professor’s ideas, and if we’re honest with ourselves, we could definitely use the help in taking on Palmetto. The enemy of my enemy and all that, you know.”

  Emeline grinned. Meade wasn’t really taking the professor’s side, she knew they needed to put on a show.

  “I suppose,” she said. “But the question is, can we count on them after the Coalition falls?”

  “I’m guessing the professor doesn’t have the stomach for all the politics it takes to lead the megacities,” Meade said. “You heard him. He’d rather stay in his lab all day tinkering with the secrets of the universe. That’s got to be a hell of a lot more interesting to a man like that.”

  “I suppose,” Emeline was busy typing on her armbar. She turned the screen so Meade could see what she had been typing.

  After dinner tonight, we go to that lab of theirs and find out what they’re up to out here.

  “His crops alone could be used to feed our people for years,” she continued, deleting the message.

  “They looked good enough to eat,” Meade admitted.

  “When will you tell him?” she asked.

  “I’ll take him aside at some point tonight and convince him to send us a shipment from his last harvest. Tell him if we want to convince our people, we’ll need a show of good faith. In return, we’ll do what we can to support his colony without committing to a total alliance.”

  “I can sell that to Kansas,” she said, musing over the idea.

  His face fell as he realized he hadn’t told her what happened yet.

  “About Kansas,” he started. “I have some bad…”

  A chime at the door interrupted him and she turned moving to the door.

  “Hold that thought,” she said, opening the door.

  It was Kelso Tate, the man who had kidnapped Emeline standing there holding two garment bags.

  Meade forced himself to ignore his instinct to attack Tate and beat him to hell for taking Emeline from him. He stepped forward but stopped after seeing Emeline wave him off.

  “What do you want?” she asked tersely.

  The albino didn’t seem to notice, or care. “Professor Benson and Dr. Hahn sent over these outfits for dinner tonight,” he said in a flat voice. “They thought you might be more comfortable in these instead of the scrubs.”

  He took the two garment bags from the albino and shut the door in his face, not caring how rude that might have looked. The man kidnapped Emeline.

  Meade glanced over at Emeline a quizzical expression on his face. “They’re dressing us now?”

  She took one of the garment bags out of his hand and unzipped it. Her face looked at the dress inside in wonder. “At least they didn’t skimp on the material. This is silk.”

  Meade opened the second garment bag and frowned. The suit inside wasn’t exactly his style, but Emeline seemed to love it. She looked over at him and burst out laughing.

  “I think they’re trying to
give you a hint,” she said. “Gotta get you to start dressing nicer.”

  He withdrew the tuxedo from the garment bag eyeing it, “I’ll have to think of it as camouflage. That’s the only way I’m be able to stuff myself into this monkey suit.”

  “You’ll need it,” Emeline said, looking at him trying it on in front of a mirror. “I have a feeling we’re about to enter an incredibly dangerous jungle.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

  Dinner was located on the top floor of the Shangri-La penthouse tower. Since gravity on Mars was not as strong as the Homeworld, architects could build skyscrapers that defied belief. Because New Plymouth was seated in the middle of a canyon, it had no need to build those kinds of structures. People lived, worked and died inside buildings that were carved into the canyon walls.

  In the outback, there was no limit to what engineers could do and Shangri-La had taken full advantage of that fact. With no restrictions on height, materials, or imagination, the professor built one of the tallest buildings on Mars with it standing at 156 floors above the Martian outback. The glittering glass tower was the defining feature of Shangri-La. It was also where all the residents of the complex made their homes.

  The ride to the 135th floor took several minutes. Meade felt his ears pop several times as they ascended.

  “Once dinner has finished, we’ll make some excuse about needing to leave early to talk about their offer,” Emeline said, laying out their plans for the evening. “Then, we go to the lab where we take a look around at what they’re really up to. They’ve put on a good show so far, but things aren’t adding up.”

  “You too?” he asked.

  “I can’t stop thinking about how I arrived here,” Emeline said, pursing her lips. “They said they took people here with their consent, but the way I woke up, I promise you, that was not anything I’d give my consent to.”

  “You think people were lying to us?” he asked. “Didn’t feel like it to me.”