‘I knew that.’ Kevin stood up straight. ‘Just a little overreaction by the assist servos, that’s all.’
Simone smirked. ‘Right.’
Suddenly, there was a loud crack and a cloud of dirt puffed into the air a couple of metres in front of them. The sharp retort echoed off the ruined buildings.
Kevin jumped back, his servos apparently malfunctioning again. ‘What the hell?’
Simone had dropped to a crouch and was scanning the windows on those buildings that were not completely collapsed.
‘Stay where you are, don’t move.’ A woman’s voice. It was hard to tell where it was coming from. Somewhere in front of them was as good a fix as Kevin could get. He recognised the accent as South African from some of the old Science Fiction films he’d watched with his dad.
He whispered, ‘That was probably a gunshot.’ Again, he recognised that noise from the world of film. There were no guns on Mars. Using them in a pressurised colony building would be dangerous for the shooter as well as the target. In the early days of the colony, before fabrication facilities that had the capability to manufacture firearms were available, they were possibly the last thing that anyone would pay to ship from Earth. Once the fab-units were up and running, nobody bothered. What would you shoot at on Mars anyway? Apart from each other that is. Nobody wanted some Martian cracking under the day-to-day hardships of colonial life and taking it out on the other members of his (or her) communal hab.
‘A gunshot?’ asked Simone.
She seemed to be having trouble getting to grips with the concept, so Kevin stepped forwards, trying to interpose his body between his sister and whoever had them in their sights. ‘We don’t mean any harm.’ Kevin raised his hands, empty and palms forward.
‘Put your tech on the ground and put your hands on your head,’ instructed the hidden gunwoman.
‘What?’ asked Kevin.
‘She means our servos and cuffs,’ whispered Simone.
Kevin kept his voice low. ‘We’ll never make it back without the assist servos.’
‘Stop whispering to each other. I can see you doing it.’
Kevin thought the voice was coming from a building that was relatively intact about twenty metres ahead of them. A sign above the door and large broken window read ‘KFC’ in red on what probably used to be a white background. It was so encrusted with dirt it was hard to tell. There was a stylised picture of a smiling bespectacled gentleman next to the letters.
‘Where is everyone?’ asked Kevin.
‘Stop playing dumb and drop the tech.’
‘But we won’t be able to get back without it,’ said Simone.
There was a moments silence. ‘What are those boxes strapped to you anyway?’
‘Servo assist units. They give us the help we need to walk here,’ said Simone.
‘You two cripples?’
‘No,’ said Kevin. Kevin wished his sister hadn’t announced the fact they couldn’t walk easily unassisted.
‘Why do you need help walking? You sick?’ This time, the woman’s voice was tinged with a genuine note of fear.
‘We’re not sick,’ said Kevin. He didn’t see much point in being coy about where they were from. ‘We’re from Mars.’
‘Mars?’
‘The red planet. Fourth rock from the sun. You know, Mars,’ said Kevin.
‘Less of the bullshit. Who are you?’
‘It’s the truth. We just got here. Wherever here is,’ said Kevin.
A figure stepped out from the cover of a doorway. She wore khaki fatigues and had a rifle levelled at them. ‘You’re in Akpoort, or what’s left of it.’
‘Hi, I’m Kevin.’ Kev gave a little wave which was accompanied by the whirr of his servos.
‘And I’m Simone.’
‘She’s my sister,’ said Kevin.
‘Kevin and Simone, I am asking nicely. Put your tech on the ground.’
‘But I told you, we need it,’ said Simone.
‘If what you’ve told me is true, then you’ll be easier to handle without it.’
‘What do you mean, easier to handle?’ asked Kevin.
‘No more talking. Do it.’ The gun was waved menacingly in their direction.
Kevin didn’t like it, but it looked like they had no choice. First he took off his cuff and tossed it to the ground, then he sat down in the dirt and started to take off his leg assist servo units.
‘You too.’ The gun was moved so it pointed squarely at Simone.
By now Kevin had removed the leg servos and was struggling with the straps holding the unit on his right arm. ‘Give me a hand Sim.’
Simone, who had been hesitating, got to her knees and helped him remove the assist servos. Then, Kevin helped her do the same.
‘Now stand up.’ The business end of the rifle was waved to emphasise the request.
Kevin put his hands beneath him and laboriously heaved himself to his feet. Working unaided against the full force of Earth’s gravity was distinctly unpleasant. It was nearly three times as strong as Mars gravity, making his limbs feel like they were made of lead. He had to help Simone to her feet; she grimaced and let out a small grunt as she stood up.
‘Now over there,’ instructed the woman. She pointed at the centre of the road.
Kevin, half supporting his sister, shuffled towards the indicated spot.
The woman moved to the pile of tech, slung her rifle over her shoulder and, with one eye on her captives, picked up one of the servo assist units.
Kevin just watched her, his shoulders stooped under his own body weight.
‘These are plastic.’ The woman’s voice was half accusing, half full of wonder.
‘Uh, yes,’ said Simone. ‘I wasn’t thinking of the expensive carbon fibre units.’
‘What anti-bacs are you using? I can’t feel any residue.’
‘Anti-bacs? What?’ Simone sat down. Kevin could actually see the strength leaving her as she struggled against the fierce pull of Earth’s gravity.
‘No anti-bacs?’ The woman looked shocked and dropped the unit. Then, she pulled a small glass bottle of clear liquid from a pocket. The top was fitted with a metal pump and she sprayed the servos liberally, making sure she coated every plastic surface. The woman thoughtfully looked from the pile of assist servos to the pitiful state of her captives. ‘You two might really be from Mars. Put these back on. You’re coming with me.’
CHAPTER 14
Daniel wondered how he had ended up here, sneaking into sector seven of the water mine. Sneaking was maybe overstating it. Dimitri had loudly announced their presence to the miner working the night shift in the extraction plant. Bannon had seemed to know the agri-dome worker and let them through, taking a bottle of Dimitri’s hooch in exchange. Now, the three of them were walking down the dimly lit access tunnel to where the artefact used to be. According to Bannon, the scientists had all gone home leaving cameras watching for the possible return of the disappearing giant grey cube.
‘What about the cameras?’ asked Daniel.
‘Don’t worry about that. They’ll see what I want them to see,’ said Lula.
She was carrying her ruggedised laptop. Daniel assumed she would work some programmer magic on the digital cameras.
‘Here we are,’ said Dimitri.
Daniel almost didn’t recognise the cavern now that it had been emptied of most of the technical equipment and the multitude of scientists who had been here during his last visit. The hole that used to contain the enigmatic grey cube was floodlit and had multiple cameras trained on it. From this vantage point, the void left by the departed artefact looked cavernously large.
‘Hah, all the cameras are watching that hole,’ said Dimitri.
Daniel realised he was right, all the tripod-mounted cameras were pointing in the same direction, leaving them free to poke around the rest of the cavern undetected.
‘Saves me a job,’ observed Lula.
‘But here is another one for you,’ said Dimitri. He was pointing at a pi
ece of computer equipment on a steel workbench. Daniel had no idea what it was for, but it was powered, the winking of green LEDs showing the flow of data to and from the unit.
Lula scooped up a chair that was lying on its side, forgotten during the exodus. She plopped it down in front of the workbench, sat on it, then opened her laptop and plugged it into the mystery bit of equipment.
‘Let’s see what you have to tell us.’ Lula’s fingers were a blur over the keyboard as she did something that, as far as Daniel was concerned, was bordering on techno-magic.
Dimitri was poking about a small pile of detritus. Daniel went over to join him.
‘Best stay out of the way, eh Danny?’
‘Your wife is very talented,’ said Daniel.
‘Don’t let her hear you say that. Her goddamn head is big enough already.’
Daniel picked up a discarded black folder. It was empty.
‘There’s nothing here Danny.’ Dimitri kicked the pile of rubbish in disgust.
‘Let’s hope Lula has more luck.’
Dimitri nodded and strode over to his wife’s side. ‘Any luck my little love muffin?’
‘Sort of,’ said Lula. She did not look up from the screen.
‘Do you care to explain to your somewhat simple husband?’
‘There’s no information here,’ started Lula.
‘Crap,’ said Dimitri.
‘Before you turn the air blue, I haven’t finished.’
‘Sorry.’ Dimitri shuffled his feet reminding Daniel of a chastised child. A six foot chastised child.
‘I have inserted my code to spoof the camera inputs and monitoring programs to transmit any alerts to my cuff instead of their control application.’
Dimitri clapped his hands and kissed the top of his wife’s head. ‘Good! I knew there was a reason I married you.’
Lula tilted her head back to look him in the eye. ‘Just one?’
‘One of many, one of many.’ Dimitri spun on his heel. ‘Come, Danny. Time for us to go.’
Lula snapped her laptop shut and stood up. The three of them then retraced their steps and, waving to Bannon on their way through the extraction plant, made their way back out of the mine to the surface.
CHAPTER 15
Kevin and Simone walked further into town. Connie was taking no chances, keeping them in front of her at all times. She had finally decided to introduce herself while they were strapping on their assist servos. Kevin had been trying to guess her age. Her features were weathered, but the post-apocalyptic vibe Kevin was getting from Akpoort suggested that life was hard, and Kevin had indecisively settled on ‘somewhere between 30 and 50’.
Connie took them down deserted streets until they arrived at what looked like the town’s hospital. Kevin was still getting used to the buildings. They were all so square and covered with non-pressure safe windows and doors. Most of the hospital buildings were as run down and abandoned looking as the rest of the town. Connie herded them towards a building whose windows had been modified around the seals with strips of painted metal fixed over where the glass joined the frames.
The sight of a biohazard sign at the side of the access road made Kevin stop. ‘Biohazard?’
‘Just keep moving.’ The waving gun barrel left him little option.
‘What is this place?’ asked Simone. There had been a sign above the door, but it had either fallen off or someone had removed it.
‘Home,’ said Connie. She strode past the pair and banged on the door. ‘Open up, its Connie. I’ve brought home a couple of strays.’
A stooped old man in a tartan bathrobe opened the door. He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose which he peered over like a disapproving headmaster.
‘Strangers, Connie? I don’t think Ray will like that.’
‘Ray can kiss my black arse,’ said Connie.
‘Mind your language young lady. What will your guests think?’
Another wave of the gun indicated that Kevin and Simone were to enter. Kevin stepped through first, shooting a nervous smile at the old man, who had backed off to a second door that presumably led into the building proper. Kevin realised the room they were stood in reminded him of the airlocks back home.
‘Ok, strip,’ said Connie.
Kevin looked at her in surprise. ‘What?’
Connie had rested her rifle against a wall and was undoing the metal buttons on her khaki jacket. ‘And Charlie? You can go now.’
The old man, Charlie, muttering to himself, turned and left via the internal door.
‘Your clothes, put them in the basket.’ Connie pointed at a large wire basket.
‘Why?’ asked Kevin.
‘Because I said so.’
Kevin hesitated.
‘And they need to be sterilised.’
Kevin looked at her. His expression must have accurately conveyed his lack of comprehension.
‘Got to make sure we don’t carry any polly inside,’ said Connie.
‘Any what?’ asked Simone.
‘Polimero ethanolica.’
‘Is that some sort of bacteria? That doesn’t particularly help,’ said Simone.
‘The goddamn plastic eating superbug.’ Connie shook her head and peeled off her trousers. ‘Strip off. Now.’
Kevin and Simone proceeded to remove their assist servos and clothes under the watchful eye of a now naked, gun-toting Connie. Kevin revised his age estimate downwards in light of new facts revealed. He was glad the danger, oppressive gravity, and general weirdness of the situation was suppressing any natural reaction he might have had to the sight of Connie.
Once they had finished, Kevin awkwardly covered his modesty with both hands (not that he needed both), and Connie opened the interior door. This led to a second room which was tiled and fitted with chrome shower units.
‘In you go.’ Connie pushed Kevin’s shoulder, propelling him towards the open doorway.
Kevin took the hint and stepped over the threshold and stood under one of the showerheads. He studiously averted his gaze from his sister and Connie as they followed him, instead focusing on the tarnished chrome shower fittings above his head. He shut his eyes as water blasted down onto him. There was a strong disinfectant smell to the water, and he guessed this was to make sure any stray bacteria on his skin was definitely dealt with. This, he felt, was a good thing. A plastic eating superbug sounded bad.
After their awkward group shower, Connie herded them into a third room containing steel lockers. She gave them a blue hospital gown each. Kevin noticed that she had left the rifle leant against a locker, and he hoped she had stopped viewing them as a threat.
‘Sorry,’ said Connie as she pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans; a view that Kevin found distracting. ‘Your stuff is being washed.’
‘Thankyou, Connie,’ said Simone.
Kevin donned his gown facing into a corner of the room, counted to thirty, and then turned around. He was relieved to see that the two women had finished dressing. A glance at his sister's face told him she was struggling with the gravity as much as he was.
Simone fixed Connie with her tired gaze. ‘Connie, I need to sit down.’
‘So you say. Well, you’ll be able to rest while Ray talks to you.’ Connie opened the next door and stepped through. She still held the rifle loosely in her right hand.
Kevin offered his arm to Simone, who gratefully took it, leaning on her brother.
Connie poked her head back through the door. ‘Come on.’
* * *
Kevin sagged into the chair, his arms hanging heavily into his lap. Next to him, Simone was leaning forward, elbows on her knees and her head cradled in her hands. A middle-aged man, he had introduced himself simply as ‘Ray’, was sitting across the desk opposite, regarding them through steepled fingers. They were sitting in a cluttered room filled with paper and filing cabinets. A half empty bottle of whisky perched on the corner of the desk. Kevin reflected that, on Mars, that bottle represented luxury only enjoyed by the most s
enior council members.
‘Would you like a glass?’ asked Ray.
‘Yes, but it’s probably not a good idea. I’m feeling tired enough as it is,’ said Kevin.
‘Because you’re from Mars,’ said Ray.
Kevin nodded.
‘As in the red planet.’
‘That’s the one,’ said Kevin.
‘Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe,’ said Ray.
Kevin couldn’t muster the energy to say anything.
‘However" – Ray looked at Simone, who was still bent over holding her head – ‘either you’re good actors, or you are indeed suffering from the effects of being at 1g.’
‘Trust me, this isn’t an act,’ said Kevin.
‘In that case, it would be unconscionably rude of me to keep these from you.’ Ray gestured at the assist servos which had been stacked neatly on a nearby chair after being thoroughly sterilised. ‘Please, go ahead.’
With a sense of relief, Kevin first helped Simone fit her servos, then gratefully accepted her help to don his. They made quite a sorry sight in their hospital gowns and servos, more like decrepit victims of some muscle wasting disease than healthy adults.
‘Oh, that’s better,’ said Kevin. Servos whirred, assisting him as he flexed his arms.
‘Remarkable. If what you say is true, I would really like to know how and why you are in Akpoort.’
‘It’s going to sound crazy,’ said Kevin.
Simone kicked Kevin under the desk. He glanced over and saw her shake her head almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, the sound of her neck assist servo gave the motion away.
Ray’s eyes flicked from Kevin to Simone and back again. ‘Interesting.’
‘Uh,’ said Kevin.
‘Continue, and please leave nothing out.’
Kevin looked at Simone. She shrugged.
‘We, uh, we came in an alien box,’ said Kevin. He didn’t really know what else to say.
‘Excuse me?’
‘A box. Made by aliens,’ said Kevin. ‘It’s quite big.’
Ray looked at them in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time before he said, ‘This alien box, where is it now?’
‘It’s not far,’ interjected Simone.
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