The Colony

by Rishi Sriram

  THE COLONY

  RISHI SRIRAM

  THE COLONY

  From the Author of Mystical Trials

  RISHI SRIRAM

  Copyright © 2019 Rishi Sriram

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-0-578-46264-6

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019901667

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 Leaving Home

  Chapter 2 The Launch

  Chapter 3 The Red Planet

  Chapter 4 Martian Animals

  Chapter 5 Chaos

  Chapter 6 The Hunt

  Chapter 7 What now?

  Chapter 8 The Research Lab

  Chapter 9 Fire

  Chapter 10 The Book

  Chapter 11 Sandstorm

  Chapter 12 Revolution

  Chapter 13 Hope

  Chapter 14 It Can’t Be!

  Chapter 15 Home Sweet Home

  Chapter 16 The Conference

  Chapter 17 The Chancellor

  About The Author

  References

  CHAPTER 1

  LEAVING HOME

  Fact: A day on Mars is 24 hours, 39 minutes and 35.244 seconds, only

  forty minutes longer than a day on Earth.

  The autumn day started like any other in the town of Minneapolis. The

  streets were busy, the weather blustery and teeth were chattering. Most

  children were tucked into the comfort of their blankets, sleeping through the

  first hours of the day. All but one thing was normal. There was a grim silence

  in the air. There was a strange sense of foreboding, something was going to

  happen. Something big! Something disastrous!

  It was barely first light. The sun was rising at the brink of dawn. The light

  shone through the window and glazed Nathan’s skin with warmth, rousing

  him up. Nathan was wide-awake, perched on the edges of his bedsheets. It

  made sense; it was a big day, not only for him, but many others as well. The

  future of the world rested on their shoulders; there was no time to sleep. He

  reached out to his side and grabbed his glasses.

  Swinging out of bed, Nathan walked over to the window. Rushing wind

  rattled the edges of the windowpanes, snow seeping through the cracks. He

  pulled on a leather jacket, navy trousers, and grabbed his new sneakers.

  Stepping out, the freezing air whistled past his ears, bringing shivers to his

  spine. As he inhaled the heavy gust of air, the icy cold secured him to his last

  warm breath. The morning light was dull, and he couldn’t see ten feet into the

  mist he was nearing. Damp snow in his front yard soaked his shoes, numbing

  the tips of his toes. A cold wind threw dead leaves so they formed small piles

  in the roofed corners of houses. The amber leaves crackled under his feet,

  scattering across his lawn. He randomly kicked the leaves to the side.

  The leaves out of his way, he felt at ease, walking down the sidewalk

  toward the town square. He kicked a lump of snow into a bush, which rolled

  down the trembling branches. The morning air was cold, and spring felt

  further and further away. Of course, by twelve o’clock that day, none of that

  would matter anymore. Cold or not, it wouldn’t affect him any bit. A breeze

  blew in from behind, lifting him slightly off his feet. He rubbed his hands

  together and put his wintry palms over his eyelids. The world was changing,

  and not with the best intentions.

  The area was a little more habited, people with stiff limbs and chattering

  teeth filling the streets. Whispering between cold breaths, people murmured

  about the “SS Noah,” the answer to everyone’s pleas. The ‘SS Noah” was

  part of a momentous step towards fighting the overpopulation issue that had

  befallen the world. The plan was to periodically send troops of one hundred

  thousand colonists to Mars, on a mission to relocate a large portion of Earth’s

  population. The reason for the expedition was simple: Earth was running out

  of resources, both renewable and non-renewable, as well as space to sustain

  its people. The population was rising at a tremendous pace.

  Many things were becoming more and more polluted. Water in many

  areas of the world was completely undrinkable. Gas exhaust from factories

  and excessive vehicles on the road were taking its toll and polluting the air,

  causing many lung-related issues. The wealthier people could afford to spend

  money for clean oxygen, visiting “OxyParlors,” as they were called, and

  pollution-free air masks had become more of a necessity. That was only the

  beginning of all of the problems that would come.

  The only option was to distribute some of the growing population to

  Mars, a planet that had long ago been established to be habitable in

  atmosphere-controlled domes. Due to the similarity in its soil, relative

  temperature patterns, amount of sunlight, easily adaptable gravity conditions,

  as well as a thin atmosphere that protected the planet from radiation. Not to

  mention that the day and night revolutions were also very similar to Earth’s.

  There were still many differences between Mars and Earth, although it

  was the closest planet in comparison when it came to possible habitation.

  Colonizing Mars would also benefit people in numerous other ways. One of

  them would be the expansion of scientific knowledge which could lead to

  making more discoveries. It would also help understand Earth better, given

  another planet with related characteristics. It could even boost morale for

  people around the world knowing that things were actively being done to

  better their lives. It would be a monumental voyage.

  The groups of one hundred thousand colonists were set to colonize

  thirteen atmosphere-controlled domes, creating the first “colonies” on Mars.

  It would change the entire future of the human race.

  Nathan accidentally wandered into the street, as a maroon sedan jerked to

  a stop. The window rolled down, and an old man stuck his head out the

  window and scowled, “Watch it!”

  Nathan nodded, absorbed with thoughts about the SS Noah. A knowing

  smile curved his lips as he continued down the nostalgic street. This would be

  the last time he would set foot in the city of Minneapolis.

  As a child, he never worried about how much could change in the near

  future. Scurrying through the crossroads, causing mischief, everything had

  changed since then. It certainly hadn’t crossed his mind that he would ever

  colonize another planet. Even as time passed, the situation was different, and

  the world had become distorted. It had all seemed so far away, and now he

  was eighteen, and it was happening.

  Oh, they’ll take care of it, he used to think. It’s nothing of my concern. He

  often wondered if the world hadn’t so dramatically adjusted, whether his life

  would have taken a different turn. As soon as the second Pangea hit in 2066,

  when all of the continents had realigned with one other into one large

  supercontinent, the world’s living conditions had particularly decreased. The

  shifting of the continents had caused massive earthquakes and tsunamis, to

  name
a couple aftereffects. And a few years later, the world had been united

  by one man: The Chancellor. His actual name was Mason Tait, although no

  one referred to him as that. It was always just “The Chancellor.” He brought

  order to the newfound supercontinent, which in effect made him the king of

  the world. In the eyes of the people, he was a righteous, fair leader, with his

  motives set on the people’s needs. However, since he moved to Minneapolis,

  the city was often ridden with his opposition, wreaking havoc in the land.

  And now it was 2074, his presence still inherent in the world.

  There were millions of The Chancellor’s followers who went as far as to

  call him an “angel from heaven,” but Nathan knew better. The true face of

  their leader was nothing like that. To Nathan, without reservation, The

  Chancellor was entirely the opposite. The people’s beliefs were far from the

  truth, and only Nathan knew why. In his younger years, Nathan’s father,

  Rafael Shaw, used to tell him stories about what the world was like before

  their ruler came into power.

  Nathan’s mind wandered off to a memory of a certain day, when Nathan

  was ten or so years old, and his father was telling him a story: “The citizens

  had more freedom, the world wasn’t as tyrannical back then,” he told

  Nathan. “They set their personal boundaries…as did the leaders. If only that

  was the case now.” The glass doors of his father’s cafe had slammed open as

  a platoon of The Chancellor’s bodyguards muscled through. They were

  covered in armor from head to toe, each armed with their own rifle.

  “What lovely timing,” Rafael gritted, “How may I help you?” The

  division sifted into two flanks, as The Chancellor himself strolled through.

  His voice was thick with conviction, almost apologetic. Almost!

  “I’m afraid this cafe is no longer under your ownership.” He clicked his

  teeth, picking up a plate, “Destroy everything.”

  “This wasn’t the deal!” Rafael growled, clenching the margins of a

  tablecloth, ready to take them all on. The soldiers looked right past him,

  kicking down the tables. Filled with fury, young Nathan stepped up on a

  chair, grabbed a soldier by the cuff of his neck, and pounded him in the face.

  The soldier flicked him off in irritancy, and Nathan flew into the wall.

  That was his call, his father was infuriated. Rafael pushed aside a soldier,

  and surged up, flinging a plate at the intruder’s forehead. The Chancellor fell

  back from the impact, and banged his head against the glass window, blood

  seeping down his forehead. The soldiers shuffled around Nathan’s father,

  thrusting the barrels of their guns at his head.

  The guns were loaded, and their fingers rested on the edge of the triggers,

  slowly pulling backward. The Chancellor, his eyes glinting, and his fists

  balled, he was taken aback by the attack. He gestured to one of the larger

  soldiers, “Shoot him. Leave him alive but only enough that he wishes he

  wasn’t. Hurry up, I need to get my wounds treated, this imbecile hit me

  hard.” He sneered at Nathan and spit in his father’s direction. The following

  events to Nathan fell out in slow motion. The sound of his father’s cries, two

  bullets implanting in his thighs, and the last bullet piercing his left lung,

  leading him to never breathe the same way again. And then the cafe was

  destroyed piece by piece.

  It was a despicable evening, one Nathan would never forget. He had

  despised The Chancellor ever since, from his rash decisions to the way he

  breathed. One day, just one day, he was going to…

  There was a loud explosion in the near distance; it was the roar of an

  engine. Nathan couldn’t see far into the stretch of mist ahead. An engine

  revved and he heard secluded squeals and jolts spurring out. He walked

  further into the deep snow, banks of dirt sifting to either side of the road. In

  the thick of a mechanical purr, a tank’s turret pivoted around until the barrel

  was facing directly above Nathan’s head. There was a deafening roar and

  Nathan threw himself to the side of the street, the ground blasting a few feet

  behind him.

  Nathan gawked crazily at the tank. The tank groaned, and a bullet round

  whizzed past the side of his head, embedding itself into the mortar walls of a

  supermarket. Nathan tumbled over the bank and zigzagged past the street,

  slipping on the damp snow. He fell, face-first as a shot nearby erupted in a

  parking lot—someone was attacking the town’s square. Knee-deep in the

  snow, he lugged his feet out and barreled across the pale terrain. His joints

  trembled, every step heavier than the one before. The tank rolled down the

  slope with ease, hills of snow showing no obstacle to the deadly weapon.

  Nathan squinted, a hundred yards away flaky underbrush lay behind

  mounds of icy snow. The dunes in front of him exploded, rains of snow

  drizzling over his head. He dashed to the horizon, leaping over a bullet round

  and stumbling through the snow. He dove into the prickly thicket, branches

  enveloping the meat of his body. Nathan cursed, “What is going on?”

  The tank engine buzzed, turning its gears around and treading away from

  the city. Nathan jumped to his feet and crawled out of the underbrush. In the

  shape of an arc, an entire acre of the city had been cleared, leaving nothing

  but dusty remnants of debris behind. The entire shopping complex had been

  destroyed, though nearby buildings around the line of impact remained intact.

  He looked at his leg, there was a whiff of pain by his knee and he had bruised

  his elbows a little, but all things considered, he was fine. In short time,

  emergency services arrived at the scene, escorting the injured to the hospital

  and putting out fires. He walked back toward his home, quite disturbed.

  These attacks have been happening too often, at least once a month. Last

  week it was a raid, and now a tank? The Chancellor had formidable enemies

  who directly opposed his ruling. These events were their form of rebellion,

  except they endangered innocent human life in the way. Nathan was

  flustered, but concentrated on the road ahead of him. His mind rested on the

  brink of anxiousness and anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a few

  hooded figures rushing into the damaged convenience store, with trash bags

  in their hands. He could tell they were going to steal!

  Nathan started after them. The entrance to the store was left intact, but the

  side had been destroyed. He opened the front door and looked around,

  quickly noticing an aisle missing countless items. He rushed toward it and not

  too far away he found the thieves. There were three of them, and the bags

  they held were half-full. One of them had a gun pointed at the store owner,

  who was frantically pulling out money from inside the cash register.

  Nathan was surprised. He was subtly reminded of his traumatic

  experience with his father being held at gunpoint long ago, and he had the

  urge to take them all on right then. But he remained calm, took his chances,

  and spoke out: “Hey! If you wouldn’t mind leaving the poor manager alone,

  and putting those things back, I’ll consider not c
alling the police.” The

  thieves were alarmed at first, but then they relaxed seeing who was

  confronting them.

  The man on the right set his things down and spoke in a hoarse voice,

  “It’s just one guy, I can take him, and then we’ll get out of here.” The other

  two nodded in consent and the first man moved toward Nathan confidently.

  That was a mistake.

  What they didn’t know was that Nathan was a Fourth-Degree Dan in the

  martial art of Soo Bahk Do. The first guy pulled out a knife from his pocket

  and rushed Nathan. He jabbed the knife at Nathan’s head, and Nathan

  stepped aside stopping the hand. Nathan then kicked the knife out of his hand

  and thrusted his elbow into the thief’s face. Blood dripped from the thief’s

  nose and he staggered back into the other two, who were unnerved. The other

  two moved forward, surrounding Nathan on both sides. And then suddenly

  they both moved in. Nathan slid away from them, dodging their attacks. He

  quickly shifted again, and now the three of them, the two thieves and Nathan,

  were in a straight line. This way Nathan would only have to face one of them

  at a time. The thief in the back tried to move around, leaving Nathan in the

  middle. However, Nathan grasped this advantage and took on the person in

  front. Nathan leapt at him in the air and kicked him cleanly in the chest,

  knocking the air out of his body. By this time the last thief had made it

  around and was promptly greeted with Nathan’s fist to his forehead. Out of

  fear, the last guy dropped everything in his hand and ran away; and his

  companions did the same.

  Nathan sighed in relief, helping the store manager up, “You OK, mister?

  You aren’t hurt or anything, are you?”

  The man replied gratefully, “No I’m fine. Thanks to you. I truly

  appreciate it.”

  “Oh, it was nothing,” Nathan smiled.

  The manager wiped some sweat off his forehead and sat down in a chair.

  He grabbed the bag with the money inside, and pulled out a stack of bills.

  He gestured towards Nathan, “Please take it as a form of thanks.”

  Nathan waved the money away, and started to help arrange the items back

  where they belonged, but the manager stopped him.

  “You sure you don’t want the money?” he asked Nathan. Nathan nodded,