'Dixon Cragg!
You damn well pull up, you hear me?'
'Misty?'
'Pull up, damn
it.'
Cragg opened
his eyes. 'Shit!' He was seconds away from crashing.
No freighter
pilot could have pulled a ship up at that speed, with a still
partly open shield and thrusters determined to make another crater
on the pockmarked planet. Nobody but Dixon Cragg.
'Come on, you
piece of..'
'Cragg!'
'I'm onto it,
Pottsy. Kinda busy right now.'
The freighter
was level with the ground, so close it ploughed a furrow in the
soft red sand, creating its own sandstorm, sending up a sun
blocking cloud.
'Cragg. You're
heading right for the Bases.'
'I noticed.
Going up.'
Several hundred
suited people ducked and dived for cover as the freighter roared
towards them. They waited for the crash, as the ship skimmed the
ground. The crash didn't happen, as the freighter and pods missed
the top of Base three so close its passing blew the dust off the
top of it. Again he tried the shield. This time it closed up
completely allowing him to win back control of the ship.
'That was
close,' said Cragg, remembering to breathe. 'Sorry about that,
Pottsy.'
'Craggy. Turn
that damn bus around and park it.'
'No
appreciation of real style, some people.'
Cragg flew up
to a reasonable height, banked in a wide arc, lined up on the
cradle, landed and waited for something like a normal heart-rate to
return. He didn't even remember unlocking the pods and stepping out
of the airlock. He only remembered seeing Misty, smiling, and
Pottsy, still recovering from the entire Mars Bases almost being
obliterated.
'So. What's a
guy gotta do to get a beer around here?'
Two years
later.
Marsopia was a
vibrant city of nearly three thousand people. Their colour, ethnic
origins, and ancestry were largely forgotten. For weren't those
some of the human condition that had ultimately destroyed the
Earth? They were bonded by the need to survive and to tame a
hostile world, with a burning desire to get it right. They were all
just people. Nothing more, nothing less.
There were now
eight Bases, and one thousand self contained homes. Moon had been
abandoned completely, a cold dead rock, circling a lifeless planet.
It stood like a silent sentinel, guarding something no longer
needing guarding.
And by
unwritten rule, no one spoke of the Earth. Rumours frequently
circulated about pockets of survivors, but no radio communications
were ever received. It was now as inhospitable to human beings as
the great gas giants. To be untouched by human hands.
The relentless
growth on Mars was fuelled by the baby boom, with no limit on the
number of children a couple could have. Children were good. They
were the insurance for the survival of the race.
The development
of the second city on the far side of the planet, yielding vast
deposits of various ores the veracious humans consumed, meant there
was still a need for pilots. Freighters were crossing back and
forth between cities. It was a busy time for everyone.
Commander of
Freighter Control, Fawn Dillow, wondered if the “new” smell of Base
Eight would ever go away. It was oval in shape, with a covered lush
garden with a water fountain in the middle of it. This was the Base
of Education and Technical Development.
Dillow walked
past the many halls and classrooms. From one classroom, three
teenagers almost bumped into her. They apologised and walked away
in the opposite direction to her. She could hear their happy banter
as they went along the corridors that amplified every word.
'Can you
believe that old timer? Feel the ship? What the hell is that all
about?'
'Maybe he
hasn't heard about computers. Just an old fool.'
'Hey.' Dillow
had spun around on her heels. 'You three. Here, now.'
The three
shuffled towards her.
'Do you know
who I am?'
The three
looked at each other. One said, 'You are Commander of Freighter
Control.'
'Correct. You
three want to be freighter pilots?'
'Sure.'
'In that case
you'll need to get past the rookie approval panel, which includes
me. You just had a lesson?'
'Yeah. With
Craggy.'
'What's your
name?'
'Chris
Caldwell.'
'Well, Chris
Caldwell. You have just had a lesson from a living legend. I had
the privilege of learning from him. He gave me my tickets. Do you
know what once saved my life? Feeling my ship. As taught by that
man. So, if he tells you to feel your ship, you'd damn well better
wise up and feel your damn ship. Get me?'
Three heads
nodded.
'Good. Oh. And
if I hear any of you call him Craggy again, you'll find your
chances of becoming pilots sadly diminished. He is Captain of
Special Pilot Training. Captain Cragg to you. You have to earn the
right to call him Craggy. Get me?'
Three heads
nodded.
'Scram.'
They scrammed.
With a huge grin, she turned to see Dixon Cragg facing her. She
couldn't tell from his expression how much he had heard.
'Fawn.'
'Craggy. How
are you?'
'I'm fine.
Still getting used to flying a desk. But I'm enjoying married
life.' He looked down at her well pronounced bump. 'Being pregnant
suits you.'
'Thanks. I have
a feeling I have a little pilot growing inside of me. You and Misty
will have to come over for a meal one day.'
'We'd love
that. I saw young Rocky and Amethyst the other day. Who would have
thought they'd have twins?'
'They're cute.
Craggy. I have to go. I'll give you a call.'
'I'll look
forward to it. See you later.'
Dillow carried
on along the corridor and stopped at a door marked Department of
Freighter Design. She went in to find a man working hard on the
latest invention. He looked up and smiled. 'Is it that time
already?' he asked.
She kissed him.
She wondered if their baby would have his dark brown eyes.
'Come on, Joel.
I demand to be pampered.'
'Your wish is
my command.'
He packed up
his work and they walked off hand in hand to their home in
Marsopia.
Supervisor of
Geological Testing, Felix Hellicoyle, hated going outside. People
got hurt outside. People even died outside. He preferred just to
stay in the lab taking care of the sample testing. Outside was
outside of his comfort zone. But when the mining supervisor
beckoned, it wasn't something to be ignored. Giving instructions to
his three assistants, Felix suited up and in the airlock, climbed
into the dust covered people buggy, and drove through the outer
door which closed automatically behind him, as he ploughed
interesting patterns into the red iron oxide sand of Mars, towards
the mineral mines, eight miles away.
He drove up the
well worn ramp that took vehicles from Base Three and ancillary
much smaller working buildings, onto the plateau. Felix pulled up,
the electric motor humming beneath him, as he stared at the
permanent lights that illuminated the mine entrance and
surroundings. The tone of Deep Mining Supervisor Shamini Singh had
vibrated with hesitancy as he had called the Supervisor of
Geology.
'Felix. You
need to see this.'
'I do?'
'You do.'
'On my
way.'
Hellicoyle put
the buggy into drive and continued the short trip to the mine
entrance. The first thing that surprised him was that all work had
ceased. Nothing stopped the mining. Perhaps a death might hold
things up for a few minutes, but to stop completely, was so
unprecedented, Hellicoyle knew that he was about to encounter
something unusual. He had no idea just how unusual. Pushing the
lever into drive, he churned up the sand as he bounced along the
ruts and rocks to the mine. Shamini Singh was waiting for him.
'We found
something.'
'I sort of
suspected that. Is it far?'
'Seven miles
in,' said Singh.
'Seven? You
made seven?'
'We hit a load
of soft sand, and just ploughed through it. Come on.'
Hellicoyle
followed Singh into the mouth of the mine, and got into the mine
rider. It was a single railed, four carriage transporter that
whisked them along to the business end of the mine, seven miles in.
All miners had been evacuated, something else Hellicoyle noticed.
He stepped off the rider and followed Singh to the face of the
mine. At the face was a small, untidy hole, barely large enough for
a human to get through.
'In there?'
Singh
nodded.
Hellicoyle
scrambled head first through the hole. Two minutes later, he was
back out.
'You have to be
kidding me. Is this some sort of joke? Something to wind me
up?'
'No.' The reply
was emphatic and Hellicoyle realised, they had found something of
mind blowing importance.
Mars Commander
Tagg Potts and Deputy Mars Commander Anton Forbes had been summoned
into the mine by Felix Hellicoyle. The hole into the small “cave”
where the object was, had been opened up large enough for a person
to enter to examine it.
'Is it
dangerous?' Forbes asked.
'Sir. Your
guess is as good as mine. Not exactly geology.'
Potts asked,
'Man made?'
'Only if Man
was here millions of years ago,' said Hellicoyle. 'And before you
ask, yes, I'm sure. All this rock is about that old, although how
many millions is debatable. It was created from a volcanic eruption
from Olympus Mons when it used to be active. But I'm sure you've
noticed the perfect setting it's in. This room, for want of a
better word, has been fashioned from molten rock. It's a perfect
three yards in diameter and the surface is glass smooth and true.
Definitely not created by nature.'
Forbes said,
'I'm trying to get my head around this. This mine is about two
miles beneath the surface. And here we have a perfect little sealed
up room, clearly not made by nature nor Man, created some millions
of years ago.'
In the centre
of the room was a perfect cylindrically shaped plinth about a foot
in diameter and had the strange artefact exactly central to the
perfect wall. The plinth appeared to be moulded up from part of the
floor. Some strange creature had gone to a lot of effort to create
a home for the object.
'But...'
started Forbes.
'I know,' said
Hellicoyle. 'It's impossible. But here it is.'
Potts demanded,
'Do we move it?'
'How the hell
would I know?' said Hellicoyle. 'I mean, seriously. I'm a
geologist. Does that thing look like a rock to you?'
'Right,' said
Forbes. 'You get that thing over to your geology den and we'll take
a proper look at it.'
'Me?' said
Hellicoyle, horrified. 'But it might explode.'
'Felix,' said
Potts. 'It hasn't exploded in millions of years, now suddenly it
might explode?'
'And it hasn't
been moved in millions of years, either,' Hellicoyle reminded them.
'Moving it might trigger it off.'
'Look,' said
Forbes. 'If it doesn't explode, you've got nothing to worry
about.'
'And if it
explodes?'
'Hey. Then
you've still nothing to worry about.'
Hellicoyle
sighed heavily. 'Jeez. That is so reassuring.'
'You're
welcome,' said Forbes. 'Get on with it.'
'Nothing to do
with geology,' mumbled Hellicoyle as he inched the mini-grabber
towards the strange artefact. He had driven one before, but the
fact that he was completely alone in the mine, hadn't escaped him.
He was sure he could easily lift the object without giving himself
a hernia, but the extended arm of the grabber gave him a little
unfounded comfort if the thing did explode. The grabber required a
delicate touch. Not something he was famous for. The telescopic
pick-up extended, retracted, extended again, wobbled over the
prize, and Hellicoyle wondered if he was about to meet a solitary
and explosive demise. He had said his goodbye's to his wife and
daughter, but he was certainly unprepared to meet any maker with
time to spare to carry him into another existence.
'I can do
this.'
He worked the
controls and watched as the open mouthed metal toothed grabber
hovered above the artefact. Slowly, the grabber lowered to the
strange thing, pausing momentarily before it picked up the
object.
'Anyone
listening to me out there?'
'I am,' said
Forbes.
'Right here
with you,' said Potts.
'Hardly,' said
Hellicoyle. 'I go bang, you lot are okay.'
Forbes said,
'Come right out without it if you want. It won't reflect on
you.'
Hellicoyle
called to his wife. 'Janie? Are you there?'
'I'm here,
Felix. You know I love you.'
'I've left my
will in the bottom drawer. It's all yours.'
'I...I don't
know what to say.'
'That you love
me?'
'I do.
Felix.'
'So do I, Dad,'
said thirteen year old Marsella.
Janie said, 'Grab that damn thing and come
on out of there.'
'Grabber going
in. Bye.'
The mini
grabber jaws opened like some extinct veracious dinosaur, and
lowered slowly to gather up the object. They clamped gently around
it, and nothing went bang. Always a good sign, thought Hellicoyle.
Up went the grabber and Hellicoyle withdrew, knowing all he had to
do was to drive seven miles to the mouth of the mine. Why the
twenty minute drive shaved ten years off his life expectancy, he
would rather not think about. But he was there, in one piece, and
most of the Mars population brass there to greet him, but at a
respectfully safe distance.