Orphans of Middle Mars: Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars Read online

  Contents

  Orphans of Middle Mars

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Quotation

  Kinch

  PART ONE

  Rescue

  Surgery

  Into a Dream

  Awakenings

  Rumors of War

  Totem

  PART TWO

  Wolf

  Sashenka

  Venkat

  Chang

  Sabotage

  Damage

  Anarchy

  Confessions

  PART THREE

  Release

  Waiting

  Hunters

  Damaged

  Exile

  Sand

  PART FOUR

  Cavern

  Middle Mars

  Familia

  Release

  Honor

  Restraint

  PART FIVE

  Detention

  The Leaving

  Arx

  Wilds

  Dux

  Leverage

  PART SIX

  Prey

  Recon

  Duobus

  Succor

  Stand

  Achilles

  Valley of the Shadow

  PART SEVEN

  Homage

  Balance

  Menis

  Patrician

  Redemption

  Reckoning

  PART EIGHT

  Drakon

  Jabs

  Arena

  Possession

  Homecoming

  Vengeance

  Reunion

  Deadlock

  Post Script

  Orphans of Middle Mars

  Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars

  By C.J. East

  Copyright © 2015 by C.J. East

  All rights reserved. Published by CJ East Consulting. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact [email protected]. Published by CJ East Consulting.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. That being said, the author has striven to capture the truth. Therefore everything in this book has happened or will happen in the future.

  The content of this book was originally published as an e-book series.

  The Orphans of Middle Mars

  Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars

  By C.J. East

  First Printing

  December 18th, 2015

  Cover

  Rebecca Frank

  Interior Layout

  C.J. East

  Social Media

  www.FaceBook.com/SiegeEast

  @SiegeEast

  Mailing List

  www.CJEast.com

  To the future husbands of my four daughters: Julia, Stella, Lucy and Polly. May you find a glowing path in the darkness and follow it boldly.

  The best way out is always through.

  Robert Frost

  PART ONE

  Rescue

  Kinch stood like a paladin in his green enamel-coated environmental suit near the edge of the ancient impact crater. It was bad, but getting stuck was part of the risk. The Terrestrial Exploration Device robot, or TED, revved its hydrogen engine halfway down the slope, about twenty yards, lurched on its side. Three of TED’s wheels dug deep in the loose Martian hardscrabble, the opposite three spun in the thin, unbreathable Martian air.

  “OK, you can stop spinning his wheels Chang,” smirked Kinch. “You are only digging TED in deeper.”

  “We simply desire to make one final attempt to save the danger of descent, Mr. McGrath,” Chang apologized.

  Chang is always overly polite in front of his boss, mused Kinch. A testimony to the Chinese culture of respect and duty, perhaps. His true, relaxed personality came out when the boys were sparring on the mat, taunting Kinch with trash talk.

  Chang flipped the main console screen displaying TED’s camera to the Kinch’s transport vehicle. He had left it near the edge of the crater. Chang toggled the transport’s operation mode from manual driver to remote control. Three middle-aged men leaned back in their chairs behind Chang’s seat in the darkened command center, sensing the time for the operation to begin.

  Kinch scanned the red dusty rim of the crater and caught the movement of the transport a few feet behind him. It rolled towards him, strange looking with no driver behind the steering column, stopping at arm’s length. He reached between the lower two head lamps and gripped a curved tow hook with both hands.

  Chang watched the green metal gloves on the monitor. He pressed a button to engage the winch drum beneath the transport causing the cable to wind out.

  Kinch turned back towards the rim of the crater, his left hand trailing behind him pulling the thick wire. He concentrated on the exit path for TED, a path to the left of the deep trenches gouged in the loose soil. Execute the plan.

  Kinch’s emergency override program had initiated in TED during the unintentional slide. His program instructed TED to turn its wheels into the downward slide, saving it from a rollover. The technique damaged the crater with deep, serpentine ruts as TED had fought backwards down the crater.

  He edged to the weathered rim, first one green boot, then the other, displacing his weight by pulling tight on the cable behind him. He looked to the right side of his visor and saw the video feed in the control room of the men gathered around the screen. A puckish smile curved his cheek as he looked down at his boots. He rocked up on his toes, bent his knees and came down with his total body momentum into his heels.

  The edge of the ridge crumbled in a small poof of pink dust beneath the pressure of his weight. He rode the mini avalanche a foot down before the slack in the cable jerked tight.

  Chang’s shoulders curled up and his chin sank into his chest as he tried to hide the smile and widening of his eyes. The men gave disappointed looks to each other as they turned from the screen. It wasn’t the first time they had shared this expression.

  Kinch’s voice rang over the voice link, “Whoa, this edge is very unstable. I can see how TED got sucked into this hole.” He placed his weight down on his right foot. “This is a mess, I’m sinking heel deep. Loose gravel everywhere.”

  “Many thanks, brother,” thought Chang, hoping his Hong-Li would not hold him responsible for programming a failed survey. The men leaning over Chang were the judge and jury for the root cause analysis which would be conducted as part of the post incident review. If the edge of the crater was stable, it would be Chang’s mistake for placing the robot in danger.

  One of the men behind Chang leaned forward and focused on the video feed of boot heels digging hard into the loose Martian soil with each step. “That’s fine, Mr. McGrath. You have established the instability of the rim and slope. No need to take any unnecessary risks on the descent. Let’s focus on the foundered robot.” Dr. Jeff Curtis pushed back on his knees and resumed his position. As the direct IT supervisor for Kinch and Chang, he wanted to insure his boys kept a tone of professionalism in following protocol.

  “Yes sir,” c
ame the response. Jeff was more like a surrogate father to the 16-year-old than a supervisor. He helped Kinch on the “soft skills” needed to live in the International Mars Colony. Jeff understood Kinch’s history and had an appreciation for his military conditioning and unique skills in these open air tactical situations.

  As Kinch plodded towards the robot, he began to vocalize observations. “The three visible tires appear to be undamaged. The rolling chassis has no marks or evidence of stress. No breach in structural integrity of outer casing.”

  “That is most excellent, Mr. McGrath,” glowed Chang. “If you would please secure the cable before you assess the opposite side of the TED.”

  “Copy that. Clearly.” Kinch said, noting Chang’s improved English. Kinch worked with him all the time - subject verb agreement, verb tense, idioms and gender pronouns. Chang studied, but only practice and correction produced progress. Kinch was an encouraging teacher, but if Chang became careless, he would chide him for his “Engrish” until Chang upped his effort. This chiding always resulted in more vigorous sparring.

  The men watched as the boy’s helmet-embedded camera relayed his alternating glances from TED to his next footfall. The loose soil kicked up curls of soft dust like red silt in clear water.

  TED angled out of the slope, its helpless robotic arm motionless on the center of the platform. The arm made one long appendage, with three rotation joints allowing the same movement of a human wrist, arm and shoulder system. Each joint had a 360 degree range of movement and 10x the hydraulic strength of a human. The cameras on its control tower moved to meet Kinch as he approached.

  As an artificial intelligence robotic vehicle, it made decisions and learned based on experience and user input. Kinch had associated TED’s interaction profile to Kinch’s personal profile, allowing TED to determine patterns and predict Kinch’s next commands. TED worked mundane tasks preprogrammed by Kinch or Chang, and like a dutiful 3rd shift soldier, completed the tasks while everyone slept.

  Kinch paused a few feet from TED and turned to the transport vehicle above him. He leaned back, watching the cable slack down the slope. He formed a small loop in his left hand. Two more loops he thought, studying to the mechanical pace of the unspooling winch.

  Above the transport he saw the cold little sun in the thin Martian sky. “Amazing,” he murmured. Light had to travel an extra fifty million miles to get to Mars, but on a clear day like today, it lit up the scarlet terrain like a snowless painted desert. He felt the slack in his hands and made another loop.

  The trail of pink dust hung in the air above him, diffusing the light allowing Kinch to look into the eyes of the sun. Currents of particles flowed over it masking its intensity. The tension on the wire gave and he formed a third loop.

  “Mr. Lee, please disengage the wind-out,” he said, still fixated on the tiny burning star.

  “Wind-out disengaged. Please adjust helmet position for a visual confirmation of distance,” Chang watched through TED’s camera on the large monitor.

  Kinch leaned toward TED pulling on the cable with his right glove, holding the small coils and hook in his left. He dropped the coils and shifted his grip on the hook preparing to hand it to TED. “Hiya pal, you will be out of here in a minute. Knuckle-bump.”

  A metallic clad green fist crossed the large monitor to meet the extending robotic arm. TED’s titanium claw snapped together to form a menacing hollow box. The fists clinked and retracted.

  Kinch stretched the tow hook forward, the slack tightening as he extended his reach. “All right buddy, take this and affix to the chassis ring.” TED’s titanium claw snapped together on the flat sides of the hook, rotated downward and slid it through the steel bracket.

  “Good boy.” Kinch programmed TED to recognize aliases such as ‘buddy,’ ‘pal,’ and ‘boy.’ TED was the dog he was never allowed to have.

  Kinch reported to the control room as he ducked under the cable to the far side of TED. “Cable secured, no need to take up the slack. No immediate barriers in front of TED and exit path is clean. TED’s starboard side is looking clear as well. The soil is very loose and the ruts are pretty deep. Looks like emergency override kicked in as expected and he fought pretty hard coming down...”

  “Thank you Mr. McGrath,” interrupted Chang. “If you would please position your camera facing the wheels as we assess the chassis clearance.”

  The men behind Chang stood to their feet and made a wide semicircle around Chang and the monitors. General Viktor Volkov, the Russian Federation team lead and Director of Geological Exploration, said in his heavy Russian accent, “I have a concern the robot is dug too deep into the soil.” He turned and leaned into the small, pot-bellied man next to him, “This negligence could have been easily avoided, Mr. Jarial. The program your technician wrote for my survey placed the robot dangerously close to the crater and compromised this mission. I will expect more attention to detail in the future.”

  Arjun Jarial, from the Republic of India team, held command of this recovery mission as the Director of Technology. He flashed the submissive smile he reserved for unavoidable direct conflict. “Yes, most definitely I am agreeing we must take all available precautions to insure no damage is done to the TED robot. It is immensely valuable to both of our teams, Comrade Volkov. Dr. Curtis, as the manager of the Robotics Department you also share our concern about the current condition?”

  “Of course I’m concerned when a unit is compromised,” Curtis stated as he lifted his thoughtful gaze from the display and locked on the stare of Ivan Volkov. “In fact due to the lack of surface stability input from your Geological Exploration team for this area, the situation dictates assumptions by my team must continue to be made.”

  Jeff emphasized the word “continue” as Volkov’s eyes narrowed. He held the gaze of the Russian with a pleasant smile and maintained the same tone. “Mr. McGrath, is the gravel over the axles?”

  “No, Sir,” Kinch responded, feeling the tension over his voice link. Volkov was being a jerk again. “On the ground here, it would seem if TED’s weight is pulled by the transporter he can cross the ruts and make the ascent. He may need a push from behind.”

  Jeff moved around to the side of Chang to study the video feed. “Zoom to the front of the center wheel, Mr. Lee. See those shadows gentlemen? We have clearance for the undercarriage and enough space to pull free from the ruts. We can make a slow ascent once we are across the tracks. Mr. McGrath, please return to the safety of the transport, we have the visual confirmation we needed.

  Viktor leaned into the display examining the shadows with a cold, stony inspection. “He may be needed to remove debris,” Volkov said turning to Jeff.

  Jeff searched the monitor and conceded. “Mr. McGrath, stand ready at the front of the transport.”

  Kinch raced through multiple options of how he could stay engaged in the action. He decided it best with Jeff’s battle in the command center to obey his orders without protest or input. “Yes sir. Heading up now. I’ll use the cable as guy-wire on the return.””

  “Affirmative, Kinch. Be careful.” Jeff warned.

  Kinch caught the cable in his gripped gloves and began to hoist himself up to the transport. He half-listened with the crestfallen detachment of a sidelined player as the command center negotiated the specifics of the plan.

  He raised his gaze from his footfalls to the silent transport sitting beneath the delicate, dim sun. The flush of excitement returned. I’m on freaking Mars! he thought. Being inside the caverns of the subterranean Colony made him jumpy. It was like being in a submarine.

  During the three month NASA training exercise in Antarctica he longed to go outside, even for a few minutes. Up here on the surface, his enthusiasm replenished his soul until the next surface mission. Everything was different topside – the freezing temperature, barren terrain, the low gravity and the familiar, but distant sun.

  He took his position on the ridge overlooking the action, “eyes only” status, dejected at being
benched. Conversations swirled until Jeff ordered to execute and the winch began to whine as TED pivoted his wheels. The line tightened as the transport behind Kinch squatted under the stress of the heavy load.

  A sharp crack like the shot from a handgun ripped through the thin Martian atmosphere. An immediate and deep feeling of danger jolted Kinch, as everything became more vivid and time slowed. He saw it coiling toward him - wild, spastic and threatening as a wounded snake. The cable snapped the binding ring and now lashed towards the transport and Kinch blocking its path. His hands flew up to protect his face as the impact of the steel cable smashed into his body with the force of car wreck. He felt the impact go through his chest, arms and body, propelling him backwards.

  His back slammed into the transport, his limp body crumpling around the front of the vehicle in a slack tangle of limbs. He bounced face-down to the ground with a dull thud. He stared into the gravel, at the frantic flashing patterns of the broken display on his visor as a low, unstoppable spasm pushed the air from his lungs. Was the transporter on top of him? He couldn’t force in a breath, couldn’t stop the slow and even exhale. A primal moan echoed in his helmet as the air escaped his protesting lungs. Kinch tried to calm himself to inhale, but his lungs seemed locked tight.

  He tried to lift himself to shake free from the crushing weight on his chest, but his left arm failed to support, and he smashed to the ground. A cracked pattern of asymmetrical spider webs filled the visor glass. His lungs burned for air. “This is lasting too long,” he thought. “Something bad has happened.” His breath had never been knocked out this long.

  “Kinch!” a voice cracked though the static of his com link. He couldn’t discern who was speaking. “Cullum McGrath! Do you copy?”

  Kinch’s eyes drew wide as he moved his mouth, but no sounds came out. Only a slow trickle of squeaking air bled out, strangled from a crushing grip wrapped around his gut, chest and throat. Darkness gathered around the corners of his vision. It encroached until only a keyhole of light was visible.