Mission Mars (27 page)

Pagan, PGN, had been tested in the South Polar region by the first generation of colonists. It turned rock into gases to thicken the atmosphere, but was banned long before the anti-terraforming laws were passed—too dangerous.

“Keeps the colonists scared and in line,” Ford said. “Keeps the Rebels wondering what's out here waiting for them . . . That way, we keep order.”

Gheitley closed his eyes and let the implant do its job—flooding his system with oxytocin and endorphins, soothing him to accept what he had done.

“You did good today,” Ford said with a flat smile. He put his hand on Gheitley's shoulder. “You'll do better tomorrow.”

“I'm just saying, I don't see the point in coming here, Avenici.”

“Yeah, yeah, Johnson, we know. You've only said it a dozen times. Today,” I retorted. Usually, I didn't have any problems keeping my patience with him. But out here, over a week away from home, and with only him and Hopkins as company, it was much harder. If he kept this up, even Hopkins, ever patient, was liable to strangle him. And I might not stop him. All joking aside, being stuck with Arthur Johnson for any length of time was not easy. “Now,” I continued, “unless you have something constructive or useful to say, keep your mouth shut.” Hopkins gave me a thumbs-up as Johnson retreated to another room in the rover.

As it was, I didn't think we would find anything, even though the Areo Corp headquarter satellites apparently acquired a few blurry, unfocused pictures of a shuttle on the
ground along the edge of one of the larger canyons, with what looked like tracks leading away from it. So, Areo Corp, seeing as they'd paid good money for sole development rights in the area, decided it needed to be checked out. Hence Johnson, Hopkins, and I had been sent here with one of the extended-range rovers, and enough supplies for a month.

Now, after four days of driving just to get here, and three charting the area, while looking into an unauthorized landing, we hadn't discovered anything significant. The trip was looking to be a complete waste of resources. Even so, the Noctis Labyrinthus region was breathtaking; but even these massive canyons got old after awhile. Still, the mornings did make it a bit easier to deal with the monotony. There was something about waking up, rolling in the lead shutters that kept radiation out when the windows were not in use, and staring out into misty fog created by the sublimated frost that soothed my frayed nerves.

But as of now? Nothing. No tracks. No burns. And absolutely no sign of a landing anywhere along the canyon edge. If we didn't get recalled for some reason or another, we'd be spending the next few weeks scanning every nook and cranny in this area for anything unusual. Considering how tight security was on everything and everyone coming to, and already on, Mars, I wasn't really expecting much of anything to turn up.

Another week drifted by and more of the omnipresent red dust—or fines to be technical—wormed its way through the
filters and into our hair, clothes, and food. Even at the major habitats, the red crap somehow manages to wangle its way in, but not near in the amounts that infiltrate our rover. The mornings now, too, were repetitive. Monotonous. Sand, rock, and even more sand, interspersed with the drifting fog made for a tiresome day. And down in the valleys, we couldn't even see the sunrise.

Another day of driving was nearing its end, so close that I could imagine the scratchy, dust-filled sheets I'd be climbing into soon. My fantasies were put to an end by an urgent beep coming from the console. It was an incoming call from headquarters.

“Hey, Avenici, I've got some good news for you.” I groaned inside as I realized who it was: my direct superior and least-favorite person in the world, Arnold Plumm. He was the head executive for Areo Corp here on Mars, and as such got away with everything. I knew he was corrupt, but couldn't do anything about it.

He didn't even wait for me to acknowledge him before finishing, “You're being recalled. A dust storm is brewing in the Hellas Basin, and I'd get know end of shit from the investors on Earth if I let their big security chief bite the dust that way. Be back here in a week.” The call cut out with nothing further being said. As much as I hated the man, it was better to get back to civilization than be stuck out here with Hopkins for much longer.

Since I was the one driving and in the control room at the time, I had the privilege to surprise my two comrades with the good news. As I reached the main room, I stopped, confused at what I was seeing. “What the hell?” I said. Johnson and
Hopkins looked up at me. Seeing the frown on my face, they turned to where I was looking. Johnson spoke first, “Why the heck is the outer airlock cycling?” Before any of us could react, the distinctive click of the airlock closing rang out, followed by the inner door opening. Three figures stood inside, clad in the sealed bio-suits that had replaced traditional pressure suits for fieldwork on Mars. Then, the center figure rolled a small ball into center of the room. Having had a career as a detective, I knew what was in the container—a gas meant to disable—but, like Johnson and Hopkins, I wasn't fast enough to get away before the world around me faded away to darkness.

The most startling thing about waking up was the fact that I actually was waking up. More than that, I was surprised to still be alive. Mars was a cruel mother, much more so than Mother Earth. People couldn't afford to do things by half-measures on Mars when the addition of one or two extra people could lead to an entire colony failing. Someone obviously had bigger plans in motion, if I wasn't dead.

Second-biggest surprise? I wasn't restrained. I was sitting in a rather comfortable chair, and across a glass-topped table from me there was a blonde woman, propped back in her own chair, thumbing through a worn copy of Dante's
Inferno
as if she hadn't a care in the world. The way she exuded confidence, I doubted that she was as harmless as she tried to appear. Besides, there was a rather bright light angled into my eyes. This, I knew, was an interrogation. It was odd to be on the receiving end of the third degree, however.

“It's nice to….”

I raised a hand to cut off the woman as she spoke in a backwoods Texas drawl that belied the intelligence in her eyes. “Look, lady, I've done this enough times to know what you're doing. The fact that I still alive means that you need me for something. So, shall we spare the chit-chat and cut to the chase?”

She frowned slightly, then realizing she'd let her guard down, her face smoothed out into a blank mask again. She dropped the Southern drawl and leaned toward me. “We need you and your people to work for us.”

“Sorry, lady, but I already have a job with Areo Corp. Talk to them if you want to buy out my contract.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms, like I didn't care one way or the other who I worked for. Plus, I wanted to see if I could get under her skin.

“Mr. Avenici, you don't seem to understand the situation. The only reason you're still alive is because we recently experienced a setback—an accident—that resulted in the deaths of three of our members. As such, we decided to give you and your compatriots a choice.”

“So, you consider drugging us, and then kidnapping us, to be a choice?” I rasped out a harsh laugh. “I'd hate to see what you consider coercion.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Look, if you want to die, just say so. Let all my other cohorts prove me wrong for wanting to offer you three a chance to live, rather than killing you outright.”

I shrugged. “Look, don't get me wrong,” I said, “I want to live as much as the next guy. I just doubt that you'll keep me
alive for very long, once you don't need me anymore. After all, you just admitted that you and your people were going to kill us anyway.”

“So, will you, or will you not work for us? If you say yes, I promise that we'll keep you alive and safe for the foreseeable future. If not, my less-than diplomatic associates, just outside the door, will be more than happy to end your life painlessly.” The woman leaned forward. “Yes, or no?”

Huh … that was quicker than I thought. I'd assumed it would take another minute at least for her to issue the ultimatum. Still, I took my time making up my mind. Finally, I said, “Yeah, I'll work with you. Can't be any less interesting than working at Areo Corp. Besides, this way I don't have to make good on that bet I made about anything coming of those pictures of an unreported landing. The shuttles were yours, I'd assume?”

“You'd be correct. That shipment was the last of what we needed to establish ourselves as self-sufficient. It was a fluke that your people even caught the landing on satellite. Rest assured, however, there will be no more slip-ups like that.” She smiled and slid a clipboard complete with an attached pen over to me. It made sense, to be that low-tech, I supposed. Paper records were a hell of a lot harder to steal. The woman again leaned back in her chair. “Take as long as you need, then sign on the dotted lines. Your contract comes up for renewal in five years.”

I skimmed through it. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Standard Non-Disclosure Agreements for an obviously secret organization like this, decent pay and benefits, and a clause stipulating that leaving the grounds of the facility without
express permission from a superior was grounds for immediate termination of the contract. Which, in this particular case, my life. Nowhere in the contract did it say exactly who I was working for. But, then again, I didn't expect an obviously pre-prepared document like this to do so. I signed and slid the clipboard back to her.

She tucked it under one arm and stood, gesturing for me to do the same. She offered a hand as she said, “Welcome to Atlantis.”

There was a brisk tour of the admittedly impressive, facility before I was put to work. Hopkins and Johnston both accepted their own offers, I was told, but they wouldn't be allowed near me, or each other. The place was an arcology, and by far the best one I'd seen on Mars. Paolo Soleri would have been proud. There along the central promenade, actual redwoods grew along the boulevard, and real, live birds and flowers added to the surroundings. One side of the promenade ended at the doors to an airlock. There was even a concealed garage for the few rovers housed here. The other end terminated in a series of blast doors, which I was told were off limits. Along the walls, various hallways branched out to allow access to the residential areas and various low-level security labs. All of this somehow dug into the side of a canyon, without anyone noticing.

With a series of pipes to disperse the heat emissions through an area large enough to keep the entire base from lighting up like a Christmas tree on orbital scans, the design
was brilliant. Everything that couldn't be produced under the rock, invisible without close inspection, was cleverly concealed throughout the entire area of the canyon. Though I hated to admit it, even to myself, we probably wouldn't have found this place unless we'd walked into one of the outside machines, and our feet hit the metal. I still had no idea how over a hundred people had gotten here under the noses of all the satellites in orbit. And I definitely had no idea how they'd managed to build this place without anybody noticing. All in all, it really did live up to its name. Just like Atlantis, this was truly a hidden city.