Gyaros Book One: The Mice Eat Iron (YA 17+ Sci Fi Adventure) (48 page)

“Yo Miles,” said Maxen in a low voice leaning over Lucy’s head
, breaking his train of thought “so Mesa’s gonna get us in real tight with The Machine.”

Miles looked down to see Lucy clench her fists upon hearing mention of The Machine. He put his right hand over her left and held it tight.

“It’s going to be alright Lucy. I’m not going to let The Machine do anything bad to you,” her hands relaxed slightly.

“And I been thinking,” Maxen continued
in hushed tones so that Mesa wouldn’t hear, “The Machine must be the ones with the way back. They’ve got the most advanced tech on Gyaros but there’s no way they’d get a ship past the Carthage missile array right? That thing takes down stray asteroids and meteors all week long, so ain’t no way a craft could get through undetected. I’m thinkin’ it’s teleportation.”

Miles wasn’t listening. He was lost in though and was still collecting himself from the
vile absurdity of the past few days and weeks.

“Hey
, so Miles,” said Maxen excitedly still trying to get his attention, “when you gonna ask Mesa about the way back? Miles?”

“Damn it Maxen, I don’t know!”
Miles barked. Maxen shrunk into his seat and folded his arms, pouting.

“Look I’m sorry Maxen, it’s just…I
honestly don’t know. I haven’t thought about it yet, I’m still shaking from the past twenty four hours you know. Let’s just get to New Fortune and take it from there.” The indignation fell from Maxen’s face as he empathised with Miles and reflected on his own experiences over the past while.

“I’m just a desk jockey you know,” Miles laughed, Maxen and Lucy smiled too
, “I’m not cut out for this stuff. What was it you called me on the shuttle up here Maxen? A…um…”

“
I called you a piece of office meat, and I stand by it too,” the three of them laughed. Mesa meanwhile was pressing her index finger into her right ear and speaking to someone, presumably another member of The Machine, reporting on the success of her mission.

“You also said I wouldn’t survive the landing so I’m not sure
how much I should trust what comes out of your mouth,” they continued to giggle, their spirits rising with every kilometre they put between themselves and Titans Arena.

“Yeah, I said we wouldn’t make it to New Fort
une either but just look at us now. Shit I don’t think I’m gonna believe the crap that I spout anymore either!”

“Can you believe this Maxen? Here we are, we’ll be in New Fortune before sunset. It’s nothing less than a miracle that either of us survived, let alone both of us!”

“Are we gonna sleep in a real bed tonight?” Lucy asked looking up at Miles expectantly.

“I sure hope so, we haven’t slept in beds since Humber Dam! And boy could I do with a hot shower and a change of clothes.
I assume Mesa will hook us up with a place to stay,” Miles smiled as he visualised himself washing the blood, sweat and grime off his filthy skin, but then his face turned serious.

“Oh and Lucy, I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I know you have no reason to believe me but it won’t happen again. We’ve been through too much together to just go our separate ways.”

“Do you promise?” Miles took his eyes off the open dirt road for a moment to meet Lucy’s gaze.

“I pr
omise. You saved my life in more ways than you know, I think I owe it to you to be there when you need me.” Lucy smiled broadly. At that moment any residual distrust between them melted away like a dropped ice cream cone on a steaming bitumen road on a hot summer’s day.

He meant every word too, from the bottom of his heart. ‘What would I have become if not for Lucy?’ Miles shuddered imperceptivity and pushed the thought from his mind.
‘I worry though, what was it she said back at Guppy’s?
“The Machine will rise again! The Force must be crushed!”
What the hell does that mean? Whatever happens, I promise you Lucy, I won’t let you get hurt.’

“Hey Mesa!” Maxen yelled out his window.

“What?” Mesa yelled back.

“You said that Taggart tried to hit on
you right? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to seduce the old perv and take him out that way?”

“Well yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” she shouted from the bouncing truck bed.

Maxen popped his head back in the cab.

“Whew,
remind me not to get on her bad side!” Maxen chuckled.

The hours rolled by as Miles, Lucy and Maxen laughed and joked, feeling ecstatic having survived the arena. When one faces death on such an intimate and personal level one becomes grateful for the simplest of things. The reflective sand dunes on the horizon that danced in the heat haze, the
modest pleasures of wind on their faces and silly jokes shared amongst them felt utterly extravagant after what they’d been through. ‘I’m coming Hellen, Chet. The hard part is over, I just need to talk to Mesa about the transporter and get the hell off this rock. It’s not going to be easy for us back on Carthage, we’ll need fake biometrics and we’ll have to lay low. I honestly have no idea how I’m going to get back to the Green Districts, but I’ll deal with that when I get there.’

Miles smiled and took a satisfying deep breath, exhaling slowly and scratching his left arm
which was breaking out in some kind of rash, not surprising after everything his skin had come into contact with since his last bath at the Powell’s. He’d done it, he survived, as he always somehow felt he would. Although he was ready to accept death on multiple occasions he always knew he would one day make it back to Hellen and Chet, he just had to, it simply could not end any other way. A ridiculous notion of course, things happen the way they happen, but it was the vision of himself walking triumphantly back into his family’s lives that enabled him to live through and rationalise the horrible things he’d seen and done on Gyaros. He had to believe that Carthage was his home, his rightful place. It was true, Miles didn’t belong on Gyaros, however he increasingly felt as though he did not belong on Carthage either after everything he’d been through. This troubled him immensely and it was a thought he tried to keep far from his consciousness. He had to get back, he had to fix things with his family, only that would justify his actions on Gyaros, only that would absolve him of his sins and bring redemption.

Miles thought of Landi, of Jasper and Emmet, of Gideon, of the Crazy old Captain and the beautiful Adara, the eccentric Doctor Galand and the kind
and caring Powells. The bizarre chain of events that lead to this moment and the highly unlikely nature of his survival. He thought back to Ryker and smiled, ‘I was such a prick to Ryker. I thought I had it bad back then, what an idiot I was. I thought I was better than him, but it was
he
who put his ass on the line for
me
, some guy he’d just met. Gyaros sure does have a way of putting things in perspective.’ The sun began to set over the familiar barren red landscape of Gyaros when Lucy leaned forward in her seat, shielding her eyes from the low sun.

“There it is!”
she exclaimed pointing straight ahead.

“Where, I can’t see it
,” said Miles squinting at the horizon, his eyesight clearly not as sharp as Lucy’s. But within a minute New Fortune was visible to everyone in the truck.

“Holy shit, there it is!”
whooped Maxen excitedly, “we fuckin’ did it man!” He and Lucy hugged as Miles stepped on the gas, his tired face beaming behind the rugged dark facial hair.

The impressive silhouette of New Fortune loomed ominously on the horizon. Hundreds of tall sky scrapers could be made out despite the distance but the most striking feature was the towering figure of
The Pillar of Delphi, New Fortune’s gargantuan Wilhelm station and its seat of power which could be seen shooting out atmospheric gasses high into the air. The three in the cab marvelled at the sight while Mesa sighed at their childish behaviour and lit a cigarette. She knew that New Fortune was no picnic, but she couldn’t bring herself to burst their bubble. While Miles, Maxen and Lucy were convinced that their trials were coming to an end, Mesa knew better. On Gyaros life doesn’t get simpler when you reach New Fortune, it gets a whole lot more complicated.

The End.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Epilogue I

“So that’s one cappuccino and one espresso,” said the cashier reading back the order.

“*beep*
. Yeah that’s right, thanks Patricia, *beep*,” replied The Enforcer reading her nametag.

The short, middle aged cashier winked and wiped her hands on her apron before making the coffee. The loud espresso machine hissed
like a giant snake in the otherwise silent small diner. The armoured Enforcer clicked his gloved fingers on the silver, metallic countertop. He surveyed the scene, scrutinising the behaviour of the other patrons who acted as naturally as they could. Yellow Districts Enforcers were notorious for their short tempers and their eagerness to resort to violence. They struck fear into the hearts of every Yellow Districts citizen and this fear was displayed in the face of each person in the diner as everyone kept their head down, averting their gaze from the black clad Enforcer lest they incur his wrath. The Enforcer then turned around, placing his elbows on the counter and leaned back. He gazed outside at his partner who sat in the patrol vehicle under the constant, torrential rain. The ground outside was shimmering, the wet surface reflecting the street lights and neon signs.

“Here you go sir, one cappuccino and one espresso, that’ll be fourteen credits
,” said the cashier with a smile.

The Enforcer reached over, removed the thick glove from his right hand
which he placed on the credit transfer panel until he heard the *ding* signifying that the payment had gone through.

“*beep*
. So, what time do you get off work Patricia? *beep*,” he asked as flirtatiously as he could through his helmet. Patricia blushed and batted her eye lids. Suddenly the Enforcer’s radio crackled.

“*beep*
. Get in the vehicle Stiles, we got a target, *beep*.”

Stiles slid his glove back on and grabbed the take away coffees.

“*beep*. Later Patricia, don’t you stop being adorable, *beep*.” She smiled and giggled and The Enforcer ran out of the diner and into the vehicle. The other customers let out an audible collective sigh of relief and the usual level of chatter returned to the restaurant filling it with atmosphere once again. The fake smile fell from Patricia’s face as she mumbled under her breath.

“Asshole’s think they run this town.”

“*beep*
. What have we got? *beep*,” asked Stiles as he closed his door behind him and placed the coffees into the cup holders between them.

“*beep*
. Junkie drug dealer. Supposed to be on good behaviour but our deep cover agent says he’s back in the game, selling product all over the South West District, *beep*,” replied the other Enforcer.

“*beep*
. Let’s do this, *beep*,” said Stiles and Baker started the vehicle, reversed out of the diner’s parking lot, put on their wailing siren and sped down the slick road toward the South West District.

“*beep*. Slow down, cut the siren, *beep*,” said Stiles after a five minute drive, they were approaching the suspect’s address and they did not want to alert him to their presence. The black patroller pulled up to the curb across the road from a row of run down high rise apartments.

“*beep*
. He’s on the fifth floor, room 503, *beep*,” Stiles’ partner said as they exited the vehicle, passing a dilapidated playground on their way to the apartment building. They opened the door to the ground floor and entered to see an ancient security guard sat sleeping behind a desk.

“*beep*
. Fuck it, let him sleep, c’mon, let’s head up. Set your weapon to stun, we don’t wanna kill this asshole, too much paperwork. Gyaros can do that for us, *beep*,” said Stiles and he pulled his pistol from its holster leaving the snoring guard to enjoy his rest.

The two
Enforcers made their way up the five flights of stairs, sending residents running to their rooms at the sight of the dripping wet black figures, their pistols held at the ready. They moved silently to the suspect’s room, stopping in front of the steel sliding door marked with the number 503. The Enforcers nodded to each other and Stiles banged the door three times, hard.

“*beep*
. Open up or we will enter by force, *beep*,” Stiles shouted. There was silence for a moment and then the sound of frantic activity from the other side of the door. Something smashed.

“Ow, fuck!”
said a muffled male voice from inside room 503.

“*beep*
. He’s not gonna open up is he, *beep*,” said Baker. Stiles shook his head and drew a small, round device from a pouch on his chest. He placed it on the door’s locking mechanism and pressed the digital green button in the middle. The display turned red, it made three beeps and then fried the electronic lock, a small plume of black smoke billowed from the card slot and the door flew open.