Mars Awakening

An auburn red haze rose from the desert floor as the sun crested over the horizon. On Mars, the burning iris in the sky did not sneak up to join the day but appeared all at once. The rays slapped the dunes, bursting into a clear brilliance, illuminating everything.

Aeneas and Bend shared a tranquil ride, the hum of the rover providing a soothing backdrop to the silence between them. She looked over in his direction and gave him a warm grin. However, Bend just returned her look and showed no emotion at all. Maur-tans are renowned for their stoicism.

Nav Tanadarin, Chief of Security for New Armstrong, sat in his official rover. He had left the retractable roof up because of the heat. It offered some relief, but not enough. Propping his leg on the open door well, he draped his right arm over the steering wheel and watched passengers waiting to board the next transport. Most of them remained inside to stay out of the sun. The facility is the only one on the planet built only for human interplanetary travel.

The morning sun drifted across Sol’s face, and as his eyes fluttered open, he found himself still clothed in the easy chair. Feeling disoriented and groggy, he checked his watch, and it read six-thirty. He had slept through the entire night. Sol assumed his daughter hadn’t wanted to disturb him when she returned and had gone to bed herself.

Bend took a moment to compose himself as he prepared for Aeneas to pick him up. He selected his best attire, feeling a slight pang of self-consciousness. Straightening the collar of his fresh shirt and ensuring his shoes are well-polished. He couldn’t help but feel bashful about his heightened attention to appearance. His gaze shifted to the mysterious object resting on the table. It still perplexed him and what its origins may be.

Aeneas noticed the quietness once inside the event. Unlike the noisy celebrations in New Armstrong. This seemed similar to attending a funeral, subdued and somber.

The endless desert stretched out before them as they sped away. Bend nursed his pounding head while Aeneas still wore a look of sheer terror.

Rostol poured on the speed as he zipped along the endless sea of sand. The little particles flew at him and made tiny clicks, hitting the plastic eye covering and stinging his face. His leather-like skin absorbed the slight impacts. Pain is something you push aside and ignore. But this minor discomfort couldn’t compare to the loss of his friend.

Rostol marched into the village of Ru’estaul, home of the clan of the High Winds. The leaders from the other clans gathered around an enormous bonfire. Dressed in their tal-kin jackets and desert cloaks, the mixture of male and female Maur-tans regarded him reservedly. He faced the group with an equal glare. Nu’tahl, the leading council member, remained firm and presented himself as someone in total control.

Nav pulled up outside the Governor’s mansion, and Sol stood waiting for him. He had the crazed look of a caineeve, ferocious and dangerous. He jumped into the passenger seat and didn’t say a word. But Nav would let him know about his misgivings, anyway.

Additional security officers from New Armstrong had arrived. They constructed a makeshift camp with metal walls along the side of the road. Inside, several tables with monitoring devices, while two members of Nav’s team wore headsets in front of them. On another table, Nav and Sol studied a 3-D holographic representation of the region. The hologram floated in midair and glowed brightly, casting blue light onto their faces as they talked to each other.

The group arrived at the festival. Nav stepped out of his solar pod security vehicle which like everything else on Mars, was old and needed some upgrades. But in better condition than anything the Maur-tans had. Styles climbed from under the steering wheel. He helped Entu out of the back, and Ren followed her.

The golden-red expanse of Mars looked both magnificent and stark. Windswept dunes rose and flowed across the land like waves of solid water. An ocean of constantly shifting sand flowing in the eternal breeze. Immense sculptures cropped up in various forms and shapes from one day to the next. Smooth embankments rippled and curled over each other. An endless twine along the landscape. Aeneas had never experienced it

Bend and Aeneas walked on, following Horus. The hard-packed sand of the flat terrain acted like a griddle set on high. Only the slightest hint of a breeze ruffled their hair. Sweat had soaked Aeneas’ blouse as she baked under the breather mask. The heat didn’t bother Bend. He could survive out here for days. But she could not and he worried about her. To her credit, she did not complain and mostly kept pace with him.

Rostol sat there in the small cave, seeking shelter from the heat outside. He had lit a modest mediation fire. Laying out before him, an ancient Mac-tual, a leather scroll five feet long and four inches wide, displayed inscriptions with symbols of Maur-tan magic, viewed by some as forbidden. He gazed upon the mysterious object laden with cryptic meaning, given to him by an elder. Using the Mac-tual, once practiced by his people

They felt better as they got further away from the strange facility. Thirst set in, followed by hunger pains. He could go for several days without either, but Aeneas could not. Their supply of hydro pills would not last much longer. Plus, he didn’t know any nearby wells. Bend’s gaze wandered, distracted by the sight of a sand rat scurrying along its winding path. The varmint darted across the dunes with tiny puffs of dust trailing behind it.

Aeneas stirred from her brief slumber with a jolt, just missing a collision with the low ceiling. The sound of the fire drifted in and she smelled something cooking.

Rostol returned to the spot where he had left Bend and Aeneas. They were not there. He spotted tracks heading away from the dead caineeve. Night Condors scavenged the animal’s carcass during the night. The giant birds terrorized the skies and could injure Maur-tans, but only on rare occasions. They could hunt but preferred an easy meal seeking dead or injured prey. He jumped off the W’dover and went over to examine the footprints.

The tension in the w’dover hung thick, each person grappling with their own emotions and fears as they approached Bend’s home. Now in sight of the sand-mol, they could see Sol’s rover sitting in front. U-tev furrowed his brow and his clenched jaw at the sight.

As Nav maneuvered the rover toward the hospital, he stole a glance into the rearview mirror. Sol sat in the back, appearing better but still requiring medical attention. Despite his recovery, Nav couldn’t shake the feeling of unease in the air. Sol’s silence about Aeneas’s transformation troubled him the most. Why had he not said anything?

The lab in the hospital lacked the sophistication of its counterparts on Earth. But it remained adequate to care for the health of the colonists. Equipped for emergencies, but lacking genetic research staff. Still, it remained possible to find what went on inside Aeneas through her blood sample.

Ren released a heavy sigh, the weight of grief and acceptance mingling in the sound as he reconciled himself to his wife’s passing. Bend guided him over to the Somfar, to make him more comfortable. Then turned and tended to the fire. The flames cast dancing shadows across the room.

U-tev tore through the desert on the W’dover, the wind whipping through his hair and the vehicle kicking up sand in its wake. Conflicting thoughts filled his mind, and the Maur-tans’ revelation left him in disarray. His grip on the handles of the W’dover tightened, knuckles turning white as the machine roared through the rugged terrain.

As the flames consumed Entu’s body, the other mourners, including Ren, departed. He patted his son on the shoulder as he passed by him. Bend remained transfixed, looking into the fire. Ren glanced upward and saw Sol standing there above them on the dune. Their eyes met and a kind of power passed between them. An understanding only one widower to another could comprehend. Ren didn’t climb up and thank him but continued on his way back home. 

Nav drove through the colony with Sol in the passenger seat beside him. Both men stared out the window straight ahead. Sol looked ten years older because of their visit to the funeral, but something else troubled him.

Bend stood outside his home as the night set in. He looked out at the burning red sun, thinking of the future. His father came out and joined him. Ren noticed his troubled features and offered some fatherly advice.

Aeneas lay asleep in the hospital bed. Her head tossed on the pillow. Inside her unconscious mind, she wrestled with a dream. Outside, in the flat open desert, all alone. It didn’t seem like a place she had ever visited. Her senses danced on the edge of perception, navigating through a landscape where reality blurred into the surreal.

Drenched in the scorching desert sun, Nav reached the outskirts of Qua-Les. His parched lips cracked, and his throat burned from the relentless heat.

Rostol slowed his w’dover as he and U-tev entered the outskirts of Estal-ru-al. It had been one of the bigger colonies land wise until the great famine. Greedy Er-tral businesses bought up the many large tracts and paid little for them. They eked out a meager living and shied away from outsiders. Rostol hated them for such extreme devotion to isolationism and it fueled his desire for change.

Nav remained hunkered down in the old facility. He had gathered many of the weapons around him and tested a few. Some worked, some didn’t. He checked his watch, and it had been long enough for someone at the security office to find him. It seemed obvious his message didn’t get through and he’d have to rely on himself to survive.

Nav trudged through the relentless, bitter cold of the harsh Martian night. He adjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder to get more comfortable. His teeth chattered in a rhythm with his struggling heart. Darkness had descended fast, enveloping him and squeezing the warmth from his bones. Nav found it difficult to walk or move at all. The oppressive chill clung to him and weighed him down.

Bend arose from his slumber tucked into the sand. The sun readied itself to emerge, heralding a fresh start. As his eyes slowly opened, the red rays of light slipped into the darkness, hitting his iris. A flash brought everything into focus, and he came to full consciousness. He had to peel himself out from under the compacted sand. It left the impression of his body once he came out of the sand and quickly collapsed, filling it in.

Without even glancing around, Sol strode into the hospital and passed by the front desk. The receptionist looked in subdued amazement as Sol marched past without pausing. He seemed to command the building itself. As he continued, the busy activity of the hospital receded. The sound of Sol’s steps boomed through the hospital’s clean hallways, each stride having a purposeful cadence.

After returning home, Sol remained closed off in his office. He looked at the screen on his computer of an image of Earth. A place he nor anyone else would ever visit again. A terrible sadness cast a shadow over his once bright, optimistic eyes. He bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair and chewed his nails. The devastation on the home planet seemed too terrible to contemplate.

Sol stared at the screen for the longest time, with Ren looking up at him. He wore his usual stoic Maur-tan expression, but it soon gave way to a mixture of hurt and sadness. Sol could relate, but on a different level. His concern lay in the survival of the Er-trals, who depended on the Tri-Ox. The Maur-tans expected nothing from them in return. Seeing Ren standing there forced him to re-evaluate their strained friendship and his actions.

U-tev extended a hand to help Bend get up from the ground. A tremor of unease still lingered in Bend’s limbs. His senses askew from Rostol’s hostile attack. But he steadied himself. As he glanced around, he had a startling realization. The object had vanished. Bend felt his chest tighten and his heart sank. Rostol must have taken it. What would he do with it? Will it afford him some unforeseen powers?

Aeneas sped fast towards the storage facility. Her mind focused on how she would handle her father. As she drove along, her concentration broke. The car rumbled, and at first, Aeneas feared Rostol chased her on his wind speeder. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw something even more frightening: a great sandstorm blowing in. The sky had turned ashen red-gray, with heat lightning flickering against the boiling clouds.

Bend heaved himself up from his sandy refuge, grains cascaded down his clothes. Around him, his fellow Maur-tans emerged as well. Nu’tahl, stalwart as ever, rose beside him

Rostol’s jump culminated in a resounding thud as he hit the ground. The object he tightly grasped slipped from his fingers, propelled away by the force of impact. Meanwhile, his companion Maur-tan careened across the sandy terrain, tumbling like a runaway cartwheel out of control. A harsh collision with a protruding stone abruptly silenced Maur-tan’s movements, rendering him unconscious.

Sol stood at the control console, still focused on the screen. He stared at the now clear missile silos. Indecision marked his face. Aeneas stirred, then sat up and rubbed her face, trying to regain her senses. She glared at her father’s back, shocked at his behavior. Rising to her feet, she moved towards him. She saw his hand hovering over the launch button. Sol teetered on the edge of insanity. Reasoning with him proved impossible.

The transport carrying Bend and his group approached the front gate of the colony. Many colonists remained outside by the flowing canal, marveling at it. The Doctor took a sample of the water and examined it with a portable scanner. Neither he nor the others noticed their arrival until they pulled up and stopped in front of them. Nav stepped out first and shocked the Doctor with his and Aeneas’s appearance.