Chapter Two
Granat watched the humans crossing the distant Nepenthe Valley. His thick lips drawn back in a sneer, for they were like insects, scrabbling in the dust and sand for the junk that others had discarded. Except that no one had discarded the precious trevanium, so it was not for the humans to take. It belonged to them, to the Taurons. He’d vowed to destroy any human that dared to stand in their way. Bring back the trevanium and defeat the humans, it was the mission they’d charged him with. One he’d pledged to carry out until the end. They reached the site and he watched the drilling crew set up their equipment on the Plain of Xanthe. They unloaded the solar powered buggy and placed the drilling rig over the shallow hole they’d dug the day before. He smiled, their sensors had picked up the activity in the Nepenthe Valley, so all he had to do was assemble his squad and wait for the pale slugs to return. He glanced across at his four troopers. They were more than he needed for such a simple operation. Perhaps he would take the humans himself. No, his men needed the experience, so he’d allow them to participate in the slaughter.
He was Granat. The most powerful warrior that Planet Tauron had ever known. At nine feet tall he was a foot higher than most of his compatriots and his skills learned in the gladiatorial arena were second to none. For some reason, these humans disliked fighting! How could anyone dislike fighting? It was meat and drink to him, as it was to most Taurons. They learned from their earliest days, how to fight, and how to kill. It was the only way they could survive, by honing and building their battle skills so that they were always ready to face any threat. Here on Mars, the humans had proved to be a more difficult proposition than they’d at first realized. Despite their puny size and apparent dislike of war, when they were attacked they fought back hard. It was why he’d been brought to the planet. It was good, the harder they fought, the more he’d enjoy killing them. And afterwards, the ceremony of tearing the bodies limb from limb, drinking the blood and then there were the warrior’s songs. It was a good life, truly. He looked down again, it was time. The drilling crew were intent on their rig, they wouldn’t see them coming. He nodded at his men. They would take what was their right, nothing less.
It was the Taurons who’d first discovered and exploited the precious mineral. For twenty years they’d travelled vast distances across space to reach this miserable flyspeck of a planet that the humans called Mars. They’d invested immense resources to exploit the precious resource and transport it back to Tauron, where it was needed so badly. It was not something they could ignore, for trevanium had the rare ability to scrub polluted air to make it breathable again. After thousands of years of building and advanced society, Tauron, unique in the Alpha Centauri system, was a planet polluted to the very edge of distinction. By a miracle they’d discovered trevanium here on Mars, and by making one last gigantic effort had put the enormous resources of Tauron into mining it and bringing it home. That meant the development of faster than light speed travel, a process that had bankrupted and pauperized almost the entire planet. Yet it had worked, the precious mineral was shipped back to Tauron on their transports. The atmosphere on Granat’s home planet was already showing signs of recovery. Until the humans arrived. They were searching for the same mineral, for they were also desperate for the trevanium for their own planet. They even dared to claim this planet as theirs. After the initial skirmishes, they’d met to discuss terms. It was difficult, they had no common language or speech patterns, so they used sign language. But they came away without an agreement, Tauron needed the greater part of the Mars resources and the humans insisted that the planet was theirs by right of its position in their own solar system. There was only one solution, if the humans would not retreat, they must be destroyed. He made a last check of the ground they would fight on. Then he nodded to his men.
“Attack!”
* * *
They’d been on Mars for eighteen months, with only mixed results. Every crew was working harder to make up the quotas, the bonuses were astronomical. But there were only six months left in which to achieve the targets. It meant they’d have to take risks. Grant Merkel was excited, the trevanium deposit looked better than anything he’d seen for several weeks. It was worth the risk of travelling further from base camp, despite the warnings. The colony manager had protested when he told them where he was going.
“Grant, there’s been a lot of Tauron activity in that sector, it’s too much of a risk.”
He grinned at his boss, Jacques Fechter. Drilling crews were contractors, and technically they could drill where they wanted. Jacques could only advise them, and he knew it.
“We’re going there, Jacques. The recent samples showed a strong concentration of the mineral in that area. Besides, there hasn’t been a Tauron attack in several months. I think we’ve got them beat.”
Fechter shook his head. “No way, my friend. They’re anything but beat, our recon team picked up transmissions that suggest a new military squad has arrived from Tauron to reinforce their mining operation. We think they could be planning more attacks.”
Merkel looked exasperated. “Jacques, I respect what you say, but we’ve had a lean time lately. When the relief gets here my boys want to go home with their boots filled with money. I promise you we’ll be careful in the Nepenthe Valley, and if there’s any sign of trouble we’ll come back. If the Taurons are already there we’ll stay away and find another drilling site. How’s that?”
Fechter shook his head. “You know I can’t stop you, so I’ll have to let you go, but at the first sign of trouble, get out.”
Technically, it wasn’t true. He could stop Merkel’s team by voiding their contract, but once that was done they wouldn’t be allowed to drill before the relief ship arrived with the General Manager of mining operations to re-negotiate it. That would mean he would lose many months of production, that wasn’t possible if they were to earn the big bonus when they returned to Earth.
“Make sure you’re well armed, Grant,” he ended lamely. What more could he do?
“We’ll be fine. I guarantee we’ll come back overloaded with trevanium this time.”
Grant took a last look around the rig and signaled to his crew. “Start the drill, Eddy, as soon as we’ve gone down the first thousand feet, get the vacuum retrieval system working. Let’s pull what we came for and get out quick.”
“Suits me, boss.” Eddy Moss, his toolpusher, felt uneasy. What was it about this place? Why had none of the other teams not drilled here before, all of the surveys showed it to be a viable site? He’d like to finish this job fast and get back to base for a cold beer. He made himself concentrate on steering the complicated series of rods and drill bits, for the last thing they wanted was a break. Crews were stationed on Mars for two years at a time, which mean everything they needed had to be here on Mars ready for them to use. The incredible journey was massively expensive and complex. It was also dependent on planetary and solar alignments, so that intermediate resupply operations were out of the question. Men, equipment, machinery, food, water and most precious of all, air. Thank God for the air scrubbers, before then they were dependent on huge tanks of oxygen and nitrogen to keep them alive. The slightest leak or damage meant the threat of an agonizing death, but now they used reprocessed air. It allowed for larger crews on the planet and the returning ship could take a much bigger cargo, which meant more money for all of them. Thank God for trevanium, it was the mineral that would make them all rich. The drill was biting down straight and good, it promised to be a good bore. He went to shake his head, for perspiration had formed on his forehead inside the helmet of his pressure suit. As he did so he caught a reflection in the clear faceplate. What the hell was that, had something moved? He lifted his head and studied the ground around them, but it was clear. With relief, he bent back to the drilling operation. It was more a sixth sense than anything else. It was enough to make him look up again. He gulped and stood up fast. Taurons. Five of them, and they were heading straight towards them.
They were huge, eight feet tall, powerful and muscular. They were humanoid in appearance; bipods with two claw-like arms each equipped with five digits. Their skin was scaly in appearance, tough and hard to pierce. Other than that their similarity to humans was uncanny, except that no human would wish to possess such ugly, angular features. In the early days they had even learned to adapt their speech so that they could communicate with humans, using a combination of grunts and sign language. Their superior skills were beyond doubt, as they’d developed faster than light travel just so that they could exploit the trevanium deposits on Mars. But the main factor that set them apart from humans was their behavior, their colossal brutality. When they fought it was with a savagery that would be typical of an insane serial killer on Earth. To the Taurons, battle was little more than a pleasant activity, part of normal life like eating and drinking. It was something to be savored and enjoyed. They even managed to combine the activities of eating, drinking and fighting. Early Mars crews had been horrified to see Taurons tearing apart the corpses of their victims, eating the flesh and drinking the blood. Grant heard Eddy scream into his helmet microphone, but it was too late. The Tauron that stood over him was gigantic, even bigger than most he’d seen. It leapt at him, and it was only because of the low gravity on Mars that he was able to twist away as the huge alien monster hurtled down on him.
He raced for the buggy where the weapons were stored. He could hear screaming inside his helmet and knew it was his own voice. Then one of his drillers shouted.
“Grant, where are the f*cking guns? They’re all over us.”
Merkel cursed the fact that he hadn’t noticed the attack earlier. He’d been busy checking the instruments that measured the drilling speed and depth, alongside the all-important sensor that detected the presence of trevanium. One of the Taurons snatched his body away from the equipment and dashed it against the Martian rock. Three other Taurons were slashing at the crew, two of them were already lying on the surface, their pressure suits ripped to ruin, the life-giving air pouring out of them. Two others were trying to draw their weapons. Damnit, how could he have been so stupid as to forget to put armed pickets out? Had he really expected the Taurons to have packed up and gone home? But there was no time for anger, as another Tauron loomed in front of him. They were so big, the Taurons, two feet taller than the average human. The only way to deal with them was to shoot the bastards and then they still kept coming. But this one was gigantic. He’d never seen one of the aliens so tall and muscular, like a two legged tank. He managed to claw his pistol out of the holster and fire a laser burst at the nightmarish alien. His scaly skin looked to be extremely strong, the shot punched him in the chest and he staggered but kept coming. He made for the buggy, it was his only chance. He was only halfway there when the huge Tauron was on him. He felt the impact drive the breath out of him as the creature smashed into his back. Despite the slow movements dictated by the low gravity, mass was unaltered. The impact was as heavy as if it had been on Earth.
He felt himself lifted up high and thrown down onto his back. He glimpsed the Hadriaca Highlands in the distance as he went over, the dramatic peaks they had yet to explore. Then the monster crashed down on top of him and started to rip his pressure suit away. As his air supply hissed out of the rips in the suit, he felt a sharp pain. He looked around wildly, no, surely not. The monster had ripped off his right arm, yet it was still clutching the pistol. It held him down with one huge paw while it tossed the arm to one side and started ripping off the other. He was going lightheaded with the trauma of his pain and loss of blood. When he blacked out, it was a blessing.
* * *
Granat ripped the rest of the body apart, and carefully stacked the body parts of the human into a huge game bag that he carried for the purpose. Granat’s feast was assured; tonight he would gorge on the flesh and blood of his victims. He would join his companions in singing the warrior songs that had been handed down to them over the millennia, songs that told of the many battles and conquests on Tauron. Discovering this rich source of trevanium had the potential to save his planet from extinction, from a slow, suffocating, polluted death. But since the ending of tribal warfare on Tauron, warriors like him had little to look forward to. The discovery of Mars had given fighters like him a chance to live again, to experience the fierce pleasure of warfare, of conquering an enemy. Of scattering fear and death over a battlefield and the joyous celebrations afterwards. Life was good.
* * *
They were in the canteen when the news came through. After six months on the planet they were veterans at traveling across the Martian plain, ripping out the precious mineral and returning to eat and sleep before the next day and the next, boring cycle. After the slaughter and decimation of the last relief, they’d expected more attacks, but so far it had been quiet. They returned after another hard day that was no different to the hundred-odd hard days that went before. Saul pulled face.
“My God, where the hell do they get that stuff from? They call that food? We ought to get a bonus just for eating that stuff.”
Rahm grinned. They’d all been thinking the same thing, the slops they served, thinly disguised as meals, and were not getting any better. “Maybe next time we should bring some supplies of our own with us.”
“They wouldn’t give us the weight allowance,” Kacy looked up and replied. “They even weighed every member of the crew, they’re like misers. They watch every extra ounce.”
They all knew why, the fuel required to escape Earth’s gravity was colossal. And expensive. Extra weight added to the expense. The balance sheet was the Mars Mining Corporation’s God. They wolfed down the usual tasteless meal and were sitting around drinking coffee that tasted like mud. Only the addition of a shot of bourbon made it palatable. There was a buzz in the room, something indefinable, but they immediately knew there was a problem. A bad problem, the Mars contract was a hard option, true, and it meant a life filled with risk, with difficulty, with the constant danger and threat of accidents that often resulted in death. But there was always the worry of other deaths that were no accident. Jacques Fechter, the site manager, entered the canteen and stood in the middle of the room so that they could all hear his words. He’d been dragged from his bed after being on duty the previous night. His face was haggard, his eyes bloodshot. He looked scared.
“Can I have your attention? We’ve lost a crew.”
The room had been buzzing with muttered comments, now it went quiet. They waited.
“Grant Merkel’s crew were working in the Nepenthe Valley, they’d found a rich seam of trevanium. It looks as if the Taurons were waiting in ambush for them. They’d barely started drilling before they were hit. One of our militia recon teams was able to set up an observation point on Hecate Mountain; they couldn’t get any nearer because of those damned aliens. As far as they could tell, all that’s left is the ruins of their buggy and a shattered drillhead. That’s it.”
“What about the bodies?” Rahm called to him. “Any chance of getting them back for burial?”
Fechter eyed Rahm with distaste. The crew boss was highly skilled, well-liked and respected by his people, and he brought back above-average yields. But for the management he was a pain in the ass, always criticizing, chewing them out to get more resources for his crew or more safety equipment. This was Mars, for f*ck’s sake, not New York City!
“There’s nothing left, no bodies. I’m sure you know by now what they do with them.”
“What were they doing out there without a security squad, Jacques? You know it’s too near the Taurons, we can’t drill in that area without armed backup.”
“They had weapons to defend themselves with, for Christ’s sake. They knew what they were doing.”
Rahm eyed him coldly. “How in hell do you defend yourself when you’re drilling a half mile into the Martian surface? It’s hard enough keeping the drill straight.”
Fechter shook his head. “It’s not my fault, I warned them it was dangerous, but they wouldn’t listen.” He made to leave, but Saul Packer blocked his way.
“We need to do something about the Taurons, Jacques. This could be the start of a new series of attacks, so we have to be able to defend ourselves a lot better than we have up until now. We can’t risk a repeat of last time.”
“Defend ourselves with what? You want me to send a battalion of militia out with every crew? Christ, this is a mining colony, I don’t have the men or the resources to do anything more than scrape by. You’ll all have to take a lot more care, that’s all. Make sure you always go armed and keep your eyes peeled while you’re working.”
“Peeled for what?” Saul spluttered. “You know as well as I do, those monsters are almost invisible, you don’t see them until they’re on you. We’re only lucky they’ve stayed away up till now.”
“What do you suggest, then, Packer? A miracle?” Fechter’s voice question was pitched almost as a sneering joke. But no one laughed.
“No,” he responded firmly. Fechter snorted and made to move past him, but Saul had the wide, muscled body of an Olympic weightlifter. “We need to wipe these bastards out, go after them and destroy them before they kill us all. You know that’s what they intend.”
“That’s crazy, Saul. We can’t start a war. We need to negotiate a way around this, that’s the professional way to do things.”
Rahm laughed. “Jacques, they already started a war. You know as well as I do that they won’t stop until we’re all dead or off the planet.”
“Or they’re all dead,” Rahm pointed out. “We should take the fight to them.”
“I think you’re all exaggerating the threat,” the manager fumed. “Look, I’ll talk to Damian Hacker and we’ll increase security, I can’t do any more than that. I’ll send out a squad with every team. But it’ll slow us down, and we’ll struggle to make the bonus at the end of the contract.”
He pushed past them and they let him go.
Rahm saw Kacy Lakkin moving towards them. The only female on his team, she was the technician responsible for keeping monitoring the drilling operation and maintaining their equipment. Even more importantly, she had the task of assaying the minerals they brought back, to check their purity and weight. Her figures were the basis of their bonuses. Fechter’s face fell, he was known to have kicked up a fuss when women were first recruited for the Mars Mining Corporation, but he’d backed down, albeit with bad grace. Kacy was the first female member of his team and had more knowledge of mining operations in her little finger than Jacques Fechter. She also had a lot more guts. On Earth she’d been a homicide detective. When her marriage broke up leaving her with a mountain of debts from a deadbeat husband, she’d been desperate to earn some big money. The Mars package came up, and she’d jumped at it. Kacy had become an indispensable asset to his team, hard working, always checking and re-checking every last part of her equipment. The crew said that she even had her tablet loaded with technical manuals for a little light bedtime reading. But she could also drink most of them under the table, and she was pretty. Those were huge assets in the eyes of his crew, especially Saul Packer. She looked angry.
“I don’t think they’re taking it seriously enough, Rahm. Those monsters will pick the crews off one by one if we don’t stop them, it’s like every one of them is a serial killer. I’ve dealt with them when I was a cop, but they were less than six feet tall and there wasn’t a colony full of them. One thing I do know, these alien sickos aren’t going to give up. They never do.”
He nodded. “You’re right. We can’t skulk around Mars Base like Fechter and Ryles. Besides, we need to be able to travel freely over our sector. The best of the trevanium has been worked out around here. I agree with Saul, we should kick their butts off the planet. Or bury them underneath it. But mounting a major assault on the Taurons is a bit more than we’re capable of right now. I could do with some suggestions.”
“The first thing we need is to find out what went down in the Nepenthe Valley. When we know, we can start to make plans.”
“I know what you’re saying. We need to recover the recorder.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. We need to look at the evidence, we have to go to the Nepenthe Valley and recover it.”
They talked long and hard over their options, but they were few. They all agreed that the first priority was to recover the recorder. It was dark when they went to see the manager. He was in his office, when he spoke, there was a distinct smell of alcohol that they tactfully ignored. Tobin Ryle was sat opposite, and they both looked startled when Rahm crashed open the door.
“Can’t you knock?” Fechter fumed. Rahm ignored him and moved aside to let Saul and Kacy enter the office.
“We’re taking a team out to recover the camera from Merkel’s site. We’ll need to take a buggy from the stores.”
“Now? No way. No one goes out at night. You should know that, it’s far too dangerous. Besides, I’m not going to authorize a buggy for a return to the Nepenthe Valley, you may as well drive straight to their Elysium base, knock on the door and hand yourselves in. Forget it.”
“The rest of the crews want us to do this too, Jacques. We need to retrieve that camera and find out what we’re up against, see if we can discover anything that will help us fight these bastards when they come gunning for us.”
Tobin Ryle jerked up, turned around and eyed Rahm. “You don’t need to discover anything, Rahm. We give you something to defend yourselves with, and I believe it’s still called a f*cking gun. The manager said no, so that’s the end of it. Are you deaf, we’re trying to have a meeting here?”
Rahm looked down at him. Ryle was barely five feet five inches and he was six feet tall. The assistant base manager was the kind of guy who took the height difference badly. He would always be inclined to bear a grudge against someone taller than himself. In his case, that meant pretty much all men in the human race. The acne scars on his bitter, thin face did little to endear him to the people he endlessly sparred with. Rahm wondered if he had ever had a close relationship with anyone. Probably not. He shifted his attention back to Fechter, ignoring Ryles.
“Is that your last word, Jacques?”
The man nodded. “It is, yes.”
“I’ll tell them,” Rahm nodded and made to walk away. “Let us know if you change your mind, it would be good to be able to start the drilling again.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The crews say that they want to see the recording and find out how Grant’s crew was ambushed, before they go out again. You can’t blame them. After all, we do need to know what we’re up against when we go out there again.”
Ryle jumped to his feet, bristling with anger. Rahm thought he looked somewhat like an outraged peacock, although less dangerous. His ravaged face was angrier than ever. “That’s horseshit, Rahm, and you know it. We’re well aware of what we’re up against; we know it’s the Taurons, same as always.”
“We?” Rahm arched an eyebrow and Tobin reddened and looked away.
“You know what I mean,” he muttered weakly.
Rahm made to walk out of the office, but Fechter called him back.
“Alright, take the buggy and get the recording. You’d better get going, because I want you back here ready to start the next shift.”
Rahm nodded. “I’ll tell the men.”
“Let me see that recording when you get back. And for Christ’s sake, keep your eyes open for Taurons. I don’t want to lose any more of my teams.”
Rahm walked out of the door and closed it behind him. Saul and Kacy were right behind him.
“Our manager has decided to see the light.”
They nodded. “I’ll get the buggy ready and the rest of the crew suited up and down to the garage,” Saul muttered.
“We’ll need heavier weapons for this trip, I’ll see to it,” Kacy added. Rahm nodded his thanks. They walked back to the canteen, and Saul peeled away to the garage. Kacy put a hand on his arm. “One thing I have to know. Did the crews really refuse to go out until they’d seen the recording?”
Rahm shook his head “I lied. With the management, it’s a question of knowing which button to push.”
Thirty minutes later they were rolling across the Martian landscape. The drilling teams operated with six men. Rahm drove, and Saul Packer and Kacy Lakkin shared the front of the buggy with him. In the back were the other members of his crew, Brad Haakon, Nathan Wenders and Kaz Yasan. As usual, Yasan was silent, so it was difficult to know what went on behind that inscrutable expression. Kaz was a Muslim, but it was only one of three religions he worshipped. The second was the pursuit of wealth, and he intended to leave Mars with a hefty bank balance. The third was fighting, and he allowed few of the Koran’s inhibitions about violence to stop him getting involved in a serious scrap. Perhaps he was a throwback to his Arab ancestors. With his swarthy face, Semitic hook-nose and dark, brooding eyes, he wouldn’t have been out of place leading a warrior band against the Crusaders that invaded the Holy Land in the twelfth century. He held a heavy laser rifle and kept darting glances around them, looking for something to use it on. Nathan Wenders looked nervous, licking his dry lips. Several times Rahm felt his gaze fixed on him. He didn’t think he’d done anything to upset him, and Nathan had never suggested anything like that. Maybe he was gay, so he’d have to disappoint him on that score. Brad Haakon was re-assembling the swivel mount for his beloved laser cannon. Doubtless he was bored with the endless target simulations and longed for something real to shoot at. In six months this was the first prospect of real action. Except that they were on Mars to mine the precious trevanium and go home, nothing more. Professional drillers, most of them were irritated at anything that interfered with the process of ripping the mineral from beneath the surface.
They drove for two hours until they began to near the Nepenthe Valley. Rahm swung the wheel over and began climbing into the Hadriaca Highlands.
“You’re going the wrong way,” Saul pointed out.
“I’m detouring to the higher ground, so that we can check out the valley for any sign of the enemy.”
“You’re treating this like one of our search and destroy missions in the Amazon basin,” he smiled. “We had some hairy missions, I recall.”
“They’re missions I’d sooner forget, Saul. I’m not proud of what we did in those days.”
“They attacked us first, if you remember. I was us or them.”
“Wouldn’t you have attacked if some huge corporation came in to your home, ripped up the land and poisoned the local rivers?”
“Well, yeah, but we were good at what we did.”
“You’re right, but we were damned good, too good, in fact. We became the company’s hired gunslingers, Saul, nothing more.”
Saul grunted and lapsed into silence. Rahm recalled their bloody, bruising battles with bands of hostile natives. Had be been trying to prove something to himself, after Christine was killed? No doubt a psychologist would say that he was. Thank God it was all in the past, Mars was a sure-fire way of concentrating your attention of other things. And perhaps, must maybe he’d find the answers to the dark nightmares that came to visit him in the night.
They climbed steeply uphill until Rahm stopped the vehicle on a plateau that overlooked the whole of the Nepenthe Valley. They climbed out and each focused their binoculars on the scene below. Grant Merkel’s buggy came into view, upturned and badly bent, otherwise it looked intact. Pieces of broken machinery littered the ground, and there was nothing undamaged in view. It was a scene of total desolation and destruction. Neither was there any sign of the aliens. The Taurons had departed. Rahm called over to Kaz.
“Your eyes are the best in the crew, Kaz. Take a good look around, what do you think?”
The Arab nodded. He seemed to look around for a second for somewhere to spit, for it was something he did before he concentrated on certain tasks. They presumed it was a cultural thing, for luck. But Kaz remembered in time that he had his helmet on, so he looked intently across the valley. After a few minutes he turned to face them.
“I can’t see anything, but they’re not far away, I can feel them. I’m sure they’re watching the site. It could be that they’re planning another ambush. We should drive straight in and straight out, that’s the only way to handle it, we need to move fast. We should keep the laser cannon manned, the lookouts as well. If Brad takes the gun, I’ll keep watch with Nathan.”
“We’re going in,” Rahm replied. “I’ll handle the buggy, and Kacy and Saul can recover the data drive with the recording on it. Let’s do it.”
He drove downhill fast, going fast across the Martian slope and then began the long, slow descent into the valley. There was still no movement, they reached the abandoned drilling site and he stopped the buggy. The crew climbed out fast and went to work. The Tauron regions of Mars were not places to explore at leisure. Brad kept traversing the heavy cannon while Kaz and Nathan mounted the top of the frame and used their binoculars to sweep the surrounding area. Kacy and Saul went to work retrieving the recording while Rahm looked around for any possibility of survivors. It was a forlorn hope, for the alien monsters didn’t leave corpses behind, they had other, grisly, priorities. He looked around to make certain that his crew was keeping a good watch, but he needn’t have worried. They were all professionals, experts in the dirty and dangerous work of mineral exploitation in the hardest and cruelest of environments. The silence was oppressive. Normally, they worked close to other teams and the constant radio chatter, the scream of the drills as they drove further and further into the ground were constant companions. But now there was nothing. It was the silence of death. He made a check of the buggy’s power reserve, there was more than enough remaining for the return journey, even if they needed to drive at full speed all the way. That thought made him look around again for any signs of the aliens, but the horizon was clear. Even so, he couldn’t rid himself of an ominous feeling. He went to speak to Kacy and Saul.
“How long before we can leave?”
Kacy looked up. “We’re almost there. The Tauron attack damaged the mounting. Saul had trouble getting it out at first. I think he’s got it now.”
In the slow motion forced on them by the low gravity, the huge toolpusher’s arm rose and fell, shattering the silence. Even through their helmets they heard the series of loud clangs. He twisted and wrenched back hard, his hand came out clutching a small, alloy container.
“I’ve got it. This is the recording data module.”
“Is it damaged?” Rahm asked. The last thing they needed was to come this far into enemy territory for nothing.
Saul shook his head. “I can’t tell yet, but it should be ok. Let’s take it back to base and we can check it all out.”
“Rahm!” He looked up as Kaz’s voice echoed in his helmet speaker. “Taurons at one hundred and twenty degrees, I'd estimate they're about five miles away.”
“Have they seen us?”
“Yes. They’re headed straight for us.”
“Mount up, let’s get out of here! Move, move, move!”
They clambered aboard the buggy and Rahm took off at high speed back to Chryse Gulf. They surged out of the valley and he skirted Isidris Bay to hit the narrow pass between Araby and the Schiaparelli Crater. It wasn’t the smoothest way back, but it was the shortest.
“Are they following, Kaz?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you make this thing go any faster?” Kacy asked him. “Their vehicle is quicker than ours.”
“Not a chance. Kaz, how many of them can you see?”
“It looks like three of them in an open Tauron transport.” They heard his cry of surprise. “No, by the Prophet, there’re just two. But one of them, he’s gigantic.” Even the normally taciturn Arab sounded worried. “Rahm, it really would be best if we didn’t tangle with these aliens, that big one, well, I wouldn’t like to face him without an armed squad behind me. A large, heavily armed squad. And even then I’d be worried.”
Rahm took the hint and concentrated on steering a straight course. If they kept driving at top speed they should make it back ahead of the Taurons, but it would be a close run thing. They were all silent for a time as they hurtled across the craggy Martian surface, then they dipped into a pass that skirted the crater. It was narrow and uneven, and the buggy lurched wildly as he fought the wheel to keep it on course. They lurched out of the end of the pass and began skirting the Plain of Xanthe, across the rolling sands that led back to Chryse Gulf and home. They were ten miles out from Mars Base when the full force of the storm hit them.
The Martian tempest smashed into them with more violence than anyone on Earth could possibly believe. The winds whipped up the sandy surface, picking up rocks and debris and hurling them around as if they were made of paper. Their whole world disappeared, one moment they were looking for the first signs of Mars Base, the next moment there was nothing. It was as if they had sunk into a deep dark hole. Once more Rahm cursed the management for not fitting the automatic navigational equipment that would have taken them directly home. Instead, they had to fix their course and position the old way, using a paper map and dead reckoning on their last known position. There was a rudimentary satellite navigation system, of course, but when a major storm hit it was rendered useless. He had to cut his speed down to a quarter and carried peering through the thick murk. At least the Taurons couldn’t follow them in this. It would be like looking for a dropped quarter at the bottom of a lake.
“How long do you to get back?” Saul asked.
“It should be about a half hour. Provided we won’t get lost,” he added. “You’ll have to wait a while longer before we can eat breakfast.”
He kept driving, clinging grimly to the wheel as the winds tore at the vehicle, threatening to turn it over every time they hit a bump and the wheels left the ground. Rahm estimated they had seven miles left to go, that was when the power on the buggy died.
They sat in the lifeless vehicle, buffeted by the storm, trying to shut out the ominous threat of the howling winds. The mesh framework would stop all but the largest pieces of rock or debris from hitting them, but every time something crashed against the alloy frame they were reminded of the fury that awaited them only inches away.
“Kacy, is there anything you can do to get this fixed?”
She was already looking inside the inspection hatch. “It could be tricky, but I’ll do my best to find the problem. These are not ideal working conditions, Rahm.”
They waited while she delved into the mysteries of the buggy’s inner workings. When she finally looked up, her face expression was grim.
“The main power distributor board has been cracked by something, it must have happened while we were escaping from those Taurons. I expect it got hit by a rock coming up from under the wheels.”
“Can’t you fix it?”
She shook her head. “That’s a negative. It’s a workshop job, when we get back I’ll talk to the mechanics, they’ll have to come out here and tow it in. I’ll switch on the locator beacon before we leave her, but that’s all I can do, this baby isn’t going anywhere.”
Rahm nodded. “We’ve no choice, then. We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”
“In this?” Brad looked horrified. “Listen, Rahm, listen to those winds, the debris smashing against the framework. We won’t get a mile. We should stay here and wait until it clears.”
“And if the Taurons are a mile away, waiting out the storm too? When it clears, they’ll come straight for us and we’ll be sat in a dead vehicle.”
His face fell. “You’re right, yeah. Ok, we’d better pull out.”
They equipped themselves with pieces of steel mesh from inside the buggy to use as wind shields, and then they climbed down onto the surface. The howling wind nearly blew them over, but they managed to assemble in a group.
“We need to keep together,” Rahm shouted over the howling of the wind. “If anyone gets separated we’ll never be able to find them.”
The storm was blowing in from Chryse Gulf, so they knew which way to head. They held the mesh shields in front of them and started to walk into the full force of the wind.
Less than a mile behind them, Granat stood on the surface; he enjoyed feeling the power of the storm, even the small rocks that thumped against his body. Unlike those puny humans, his people didn’t need to wear a full pressure suit. A simple life support mask was enough for them to breathe on this planet. All he wore on his body, like every other Tauron, was a simple pair of fighting trunks, mainly to cover his vulnerable areas, his genitals. He would hate to be confined in the coverings that the humans adopted, their ‘pressure suit’. It was yet another example of their weakness. Any kind of protective clothing was not fit for a warrior, their skin needed to feel and touch the air, to feel and touch the closeness of an opponent as they fought to the death. He grunted as a larger rock smashed into his chest. It was good to feel pain, it reminded him of the precious joy of battle, face to face with an opponent so that you could feel their breath on your face, suffer their blows to your body and know that your own blows were hurting them even more. He sniffed the wind. It was still strong, it would be two or three hours at least before it eased, by then the enemy would be safely inside their *base. The dome was too heavily defended, and it would be pointless to follow them. But his plan to take out the drilling teams one by one was good. He laughed to himself, soon there would be no teams left to drill on the planet. One by one, they’d be destroyed. When their relief ship arrived, they would find nothing but bodies. And he would be there waiting for the new arrivals, if they dared set foot on Mars. He lifted his head high and shouted to the storm. The war cry was pitched to overawe enemies, to terrify them before launching an attack. The terrible, eerie, tremolo echoed across the barren Martian landscape.
The going was cruel and hard. Rahm led, he guided them by using a primitive compass, the only navigational device they had that worked. Saul followed, he’d zipped the recorder into his pocket, and Kacy was right behind him with the rest of the crew. Kaz was in the rear, using his Arab hunter’s instincts to listen out, if it was possible, for any sign of pursuit. But there was nothing, only the storm that slashed at them, threatening to hurl them over and across the swirling sands of the plain that led to the Mars base. Rahm called a halt after five miles and they crouched behind a rocky outcrop. The going had been brutal, staggering into the teeth of a vicious storm. They were all exhausted, agonizing slog into that left them all battered and bruised.
“Any problems, anyone?”
There was a shout of ‘are you for real?”
“Good, that means you’re alive. Drink the rest of your water, we move off in three minutes.”
“Why drink all of the water?” Brad muttered. “We could be stuck out on the surface for some time, we’ll need the water.”
“We need our strength more. It’ll enable us to keep up a fast pace and get to Mars Base as fast as possible. If the storm clears and the Taurons come after us again, we’ll be in trouble. We need to be as strong as possible, so finish off the water. Our life support is running low, and most of us haven’t got more than enough air for two hours.”
They all stared at Rahm.
“Two hours? What the f*ck happened to our reserve air?”
“Brad, we abandoned the buggy, that’s where we carry the spare cylinders. Our only chance is to move fast and get back while we have the chance. If we delay and hang around out here, the chances are that we won’t run out of air, the Taurons will get us long before that happens.” He checked the time. “Let’s go, we should see Mars Base inside of an hour. We’ll be ok.”
He added the word ‘hopefully’, under his breath. Kaz saw his lips move and glanced at him, then gave a slight smile.
If they needed anything to spur them on, more than the threat from the Taurons, it was the danger of running out of air on the harsh Martian surface. Rahm pushed the pace hard and fast, by the time they’d traveled for another half hour he estimated that they should be close to home. If only the storm would abate for a few minutes they could check their bearings. He smiled grimly to himself. So many of life’s failures had been pinned on ‘if only’. The storm showed no sign of easing, if anything it was getting worse. They’d have to manage.
“Pick it up, we need to move faster.”
They slogged on for another hour, the storm still raged and they were no nearer to finding Mars Base. They stopped again in the shelter of another pile of rocks. It was time to take stock. Already, some of them were breathing harder, a sign their life support was running low on air.
“What’s our next move, Boss?” Saul asked. His voice was casual, but Rahm wasn’t fooled. They all knew that their chances were slim. Rahm felt the old anxiety creeping up on him. It was a long time since he’d been under the ultimate pressure, making life or death decisions. He’d tried to push that memory into the background, into the darkest, furthest corners of his mind. It couldn’t happen again, whatever had gone before he had to keep thinking, to keep working to save his crew. He realized someone was speaking, it was Kacy.
“What?”
“The underground air scrubbing plant, I think we’re close. If we can make it to cave, we can replenish our air and more importantly, we’ll pick up our bearings back to Mars Base.”
“Christ, the cave is five miles past the base, we must have walked right past it in the storm,” Saul muttered.
“Are you sure?” Rahm asked her.
She nodded. “Yep. The rock strata around here are unique, I’d know them anywhere. If we follow these rocks north we’ll walk straight into the entrance.”
“That’s good news. Right, everybody, let’s get moving.”
They followed Rahm, as he plodded through the storm, walking in that strange, slow space hop that was the only way to walk on the surface. The underground air scrubbing plant had been built when the first miners reached the planet. They’d found and enlarged an underground cavern, installing the equipment away from the dangers of storms and meteor bombardments. So far, the Taurons hadn’t discovered it, although most thought it only a matter of time. Almost every crew leader had begged the Mars Base manager to put a guard on the installation, but they’d been refused. The men couldn’t be spared from the all important task of mining the precious mineral, trevanium. Rahm checked his air supply, ten minutes left and he would be on reserve, the others would be as critical. Then he saw the marker. They were there. An old drilling rig, part dismantled and sand blasted by the storms, lay on the surface. Ten yards away was the edge of a small crater. Inside the crater was the huge airlock doorway that led into the air scrubber plant. He pushed aside a small rock and exposed a keypad. He keyed in the combination and the light went green, he twisted the wheel and opened the door. They scrambled inside, Brad and Nathan were both breathing heavily. Rahm connected a hose to their life support systems and started pumping the life giving air directly to their helmets. There were many more hoses hanging down from a hub, the others connected up and started to recharge their air supplies. Rahm left his for later and walked around to check the huge cavern for signs of any damage, but it all looked good. When they’d built the new Mars Base five miles away they’d decided to run an underground pipeline from the cave to the new base. Many had argued that it was a tactical mistake, but financial necessity had prevailed. The life of every human being on Mars depended on an undefended air scrubbing facility connected by a fragile, five mile long umbilical that stretched underneath the surface. Kacy finished first, her technician’s fingers were agile and deft as she unhooked her resupply hose and went to the communications console.
“Rahm’s crew calling Mars Base, come in.”
They had to wait a minute for someone to answer, as the connection was not continuously manned. When a call came in to the base, an alarm sounded and a communications technician went to answer it.
“This is Mars Base. What the hell are you doing in the scrubbing facility? Are you all ok, we were getting worried?”
“Long story, we’ll spill it out when we get back. No injuries or fatalities, we’re good.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. Take care, y’all, see you later. Mars Base out.”
She switched off the equipment. The team was disconnecting the air hoses, and Rahm assembled them near the airlock. He poked his head out, the storm still raged but it appeared to have lessened.
“Let’s go, Kaz, make sure everything is boxed up tight behind you, we don’t want to leave anything for our ugly friends to find.”
The Arab nodded. “I’ve got it.”
They walked towards their temporary home on the planet. They all hated it, cursed it, and despised it. They called it a hellhole, a prison cell, pit of hell. But it was home, on all of Mars, it was one place they could relax, at least a little. They could feel safe, warm, in the company of their friends and colleagues and protected at least here by batteries of automated defenses and their own small militia force. Every one of them quickened their pace. They were going home.
It took them half an hour to get back. They were all waiting for them, Damian Hacker, who was the commander of the Mars Militia had suited up with three of his men and were keeping a watch for them. The troopers greeted them warmly and helped them through the airlock. The rest of the crews were all gathered together, a small ground to welcome them home. Jacques Fechter stepped forward, Tobin Ryle shadowed him.
“We were worried, Rahm. Tobin thought you’d all become dinner for the Taurons.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Ryle,” Saul Packer muttered. “Maybe next time.”
“F*ck you, Packer,” the deputy blurted out. He stormed away.
“So you lost my buggy?”
“No, we can recover it tomorrow, just an electrical failure. Kacy said it’s probably the control board.”
“I’ll detail a team to recover it. What about the recording?”
Saul held up the small data drive. “Here. I’m going to watch it before we turn in. We want to know why we risk out asses to recover this.”
“I’d prefer to look at it in private first, in case…”
Fechter was left on his own as the crowed swept out towards the canteen, where there was a huge screen set up for entertainment and training films, as well as broadcasts from Earth. The stood in a wide semi-circle around the screen as Saul put the drive into the player. They watched the team set up the drilling rig, then the panic as they sighted the Taurons. Eddy Moss exclaimed, “Where are the f*cking guns? They’re all over us.” Then an alien, a huge, monstrous distortion of a Tauron appeared in shot, tossed Eddy’s body over and started to rip off his limbs. The monsters worked in silence, the drilling crew screamed and screamed as they were pursued and ripped to pieces. The image of the huge Tauron ripping apart Eddy’s body would haunt many of their dreams for a long time to come. Just before the recording ended, the colossus seemed to sense the camera. He turned towards it and stood staring at it, drawing himself up to his full, terrible height. Then he shouted. It was a noise that shrilled around the canteen and chilled their blood. The terrible, eerie, tremolo echoed across the barren Martian landscape.