Lost in the Red Hills of Mars Read online

  Lost in the Red Hills of Mars

  Lost in the Red Hills of Mars

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Jackie Hunter

  Copyright © 2017 Jackie Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  Bayada Publishing House, LLC

  This publication may not be reproduced in whole or in any part. It may not be transmitted in any form or means, electronic or mechanical, or stored in a retrieval system. There may be no mechanical copying, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  For information regarding permission, contact:

  [email protected]

  Illustrated by Carlorozy Clemente

  ISBN-13: 9780692922606

  ISBN-10: 0692922601

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017913369

  BAYADA Publishing House, LLC, Richmond, VA

  For Thomas and Antonio, who love a great story.

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Acknowledgments

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  I would like to acknowledge my seventeen-year-old granddaughter, Alexis Stackhouse—genius, actress and director, and future screenwriter and film producer—for her work as my final editor. You, Alexis, have helped me give a youthful voice to old wisdom. I am truly blessed to have you in my life and will be forever grateful for the hours and dedication you put into editing this novel.

  I would also like to recognize Greg Smith, founder of Agile Writers of Richmond, Virginia. You cannot find a kinder, more creative, and more talented man than Greg. With his Heroes Journey techniques, he has helped me and countless others to complete our stories.

  Contents

  Chapter 1 No More Boosters

  Chapter 2 What’s in the Metal Mirror

  Chapter 3 Enisi

  Chapter 4 Brain Waves

  Chapter 5 My Radiation Suit!

  Chapter 6 Death Valley?

  Chapter 7 Red Haze

  Chapter 8 Smoky

  Chapter 9 Scorched

  Chapter 10 Inflamed Clouds

  Chapter 11 Meat Jerky Wrappers

  Chapter 12 More Than I Want to See

  Chapter 13 I Saw It Flicker

  Chapter 14 Restless Sleep

  Chapter 15 No One Will Know We Were Here

  Chapter 16 Tastes Like Chicken

  Chapter 17 Live Here Forever

  Chapter 18 This One’s Mine

  Chapter 19 Chaos

  Chapter 20 Meteors

  Chapter 21 Footprints in the Sand

  Chapter 22 Isolation Chamber

  Chapter 23 On the Com

  Chapter 24 On the Floater

  The Epilogue

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  No More Boosters

  ◆ ◆ ◆

  Celine was perched on the side of her bunk, playing an old flute. She impatiently watched her mom as she braided her thick honey-brown hair into a single ropelike braid. All of the females in the Martian colony, except Celine, wore their hair in this single carefree braid. Celine sighed deeply as she stretched, accidently loosening her grip on the flute: her father’s precious wooden flute. She watched it fall in slow motion, flipping over and over before it crashed on top of the bunk bed beneath her—the one her mom and dad used to share—and bounced on the metal floor. Startled by the noise, her mom peered down at the flute, then looked back up at Celine.

  “What’s the matter with you? You know that flute has been in your dad’s family for hundreds of years. It’s priceless, Celine. Put it away.” She returned to braiding her hair, which flowed over her shoulders and down to her waist. “You realize you can’t even find artifacts made out wood anymore, right?” she muttered.

  “I know that, Mom,” Celine answered as she made her way down from the top bunk onto the cold floor. She carefully picked up the flute, examined it, and blew it softly. A sad melody proceeded. “It’s OK. I didn’t break it,” she said to her mom who was still preoccupied with finishing her braid.

  “I never can see myself well in this thing,” her mom said, referring to the family’s polished metal mirror.

  Celine placed the flute into the middle drawer beneath her parents’ bunk: the one her father used to keep his two jumpsuits in. Only the gray indoor one remained. It was soft and warm like hers, but darker and much larger. She touched it lightly before closing the drawer. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Mom,” she said as she stood up from the drawers. Her mother squinted as she looked into the metal mirror, ignoring Celine’s comment. “Mother,” Celine continued. Still no response. “Abbie Voltaire,” Celine shouted.

  “What, Celine?” she replied without looking up.

  “Can we talk?”

  Abbie turned to look at her daughter. Celine was standing only three feet from her in their cramped quarters.

  “I’m not getting the Brain Booster on my birthday this year,” Celine started. “It was…different…last time.”

  “Oh?” Abbie said with disinterest as she turned back to her mirror, twirled her long braid into a figure eight and tucked the end under. “Celine, we’ve had this conversation before. I haven’t changed my mind.” Abbie squeezed her hands together as if she was about to pray. “You don’t always get what you want. You know. I don’t.”

  Abbie pushed her small stool back from the family’s dresser and stood up. “Oh, goodness. Look at me,” she said with irritation in her voice. She pulled honey-brown hairs from her gray jumpsuit. “There. I guess that looks a little better.” Finally, she gave Celine her full attention. “I am going to work. Make sure you finish your history lecture. Call me if you need me.”

  She then pushed the button on the wall next to the door. The door silently slid open, and a barrage of voices rushed in. Abbie stepped into the corridor, turned back, and with a pouty smile, blew Celine a kiss. Celine didn’t smile back. The door slid closed, and the room was quiet again.

  She flopped down on to the bottom bunk and threw her head back on to the folded gray blanket that she saw her mom often use as a pillow. She stared at the bare walls.

  “Celine, are you up?” a female voice asked. The voice was void of emotion.

  Celine bounced up, almost banging her head on the upper bunk. “Yes, Uji.”

  “Jeez, can you not startle me?”

  “Negative. I am an Artificial Intelligence Hologram…You have not logged any hours on your lessons.”

  “I have not had breakfast yet.” Celine sounded eerily similar to her AI. “Uji, did you know Alex Rittenhouse is coming to Mars?” Celine wrapped her arms around her chest and batted her long dark lashes.

  “The boy who is taking up thirty thousand photo files on my memory grid? Yes.”

  Celine studied her five feet tall, ninety-pound frame in the metal mirror. She pouted, squinted her eyes, and analyzed her face at different angles. “Not bad,” she muttered. “Oh yeah, that’s him, Uji. He’s the best-looking boy on Earth, and he’s coming to Mars.” Celine twirled around once, almost banging her knee on the stool. “I’m taking my shower early this week.”

  “Shower activated,” Uji said. Then the hologram disappeared.

  Celine snatched her red goggles from her drawer beneath her parents’ bunk and placed them over her eyes. Then she centered herself, still clothed, beneath a round light embedded in the metallic ceiling.

  “Blue-light shower,” she commanded. Instantly, she was bathed in waves of blue light. She rubbed her hands together as if washing them with the water she, herself, had never experienced.

  She then rubbed her hands across her face and through her short dark curly hair.

  “Wen’de ya ho,” she hummed. This was an ancient Cherokee morning song
her father had taught her, meaning “I am the Great Spirit.” Something about the song gave her comfort.

  Within minutes, she was free of all harmful and odor-producing microbes as well as negative thoughts in regard to her upcoming thirteenth birthday. Her body’s electric frequency increased to a normal sixty-eight megahertz. Her skin, hair, and her only set of indoor clothing were refreshed, as was her mood.

  The shower of blue lights faded along with the humming noise it made. Celine finished her routine by finger combing hair. Alex is coming! She checked her reflection in the mirror where her petite frame was not only streaked but slightly distorted. “Perfect!” she said, and she smoothed her gray jumpsuit.

  Celine pressed the lock on the door to the small compartment. From a panel next to the door, a monitor activated and connected with the chip embedded under the skin of her left forearm. If she had been sick, for example, the door would not have opened. However, the door unsealed, and Celine stepped into the hall. Instantly her quiet world became completely disorderly. Some colonists were busy in the hall, and she could hear the chatter from the others in the commons.

  The commons, the largest and busiest area in the Compound, was always full of people. It was also the only room in the Compound that made Celine feel like she wasn’t living underground. The images of windows were so realistic that she felt as though she were looking out on the Martian terrain on a bright summer day.

  She stepped into the commons but waited in the corridor for a moment in order to allow her eyes to adjust to the light. She was greeted with indifference. Everyone appeared too busy to notice her.

  Spotting one of her neighbors, she greeted him warmly. “Good day, Mr. Kone.”

  Mr. Kone pressed his hands together in prayer and nodded. “And so it is. Good day, little one.”

  “Thank you for letting me help in the community garden this week.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied. “A growing child like you deserves some fresh vegetables every now and then.”

  “Well, you know me—I love having first dibs on fresh vegetables.” Celine chuckled then pressed her hands together and nodded. “Good day!”

  “And so it is.” Mr. Kone nodded and sashayed through the crowd toward the exit that led to the enclosed community garden.

  Celine watched him as he exited. She liked Mr. Kone. He was the only colonist, other than her parents (occasionally), who seemed to have time for her. She strode toward the food dispenser. There she noticed Morg, her mom’s fiancé, sitting at one of the tables. His heavy head hung low, and his face was inches from his food box. She could hear him slurping his meal. She greeted him with a perfunctory smile. He acknowledged her with a quick head bow and continued eating.

  Celine then made her way to one of the two 3-D food printers.

  “Breakfast in a box,” she said to indicate her choice. Her breakfast, two piles of warm mush, was squirted into a small plastic box.

  “You have two rations left for the day,” the voice from the printer said in a quite motherly fashion.

  Celine lifted the box to her nose. “Mmm, smells good.” She stuck her index finger into the yellow mush and then licked it. “And a perfect consistency!”

  After retrieving a spoon and napkin, she found a vacant table where she placed her food box then sat on the cold bench beneath it. Morg, who had finished his meal, came over and sat next to her as she took her first spoonful. Celine drew back a few centimeters.

  “We tried so hard to find your dad,” Morg said. “We found his assistant.”

  “Yes, I heard.” Celine mumbled as she inspected her spoon. “Ms. Armbruster said part of his body was chewed away.”

  “Ms. Armbruster talks too much…” Morg responded, annoyed.

  Celine slurped her meal and stared at the artificial window in front of her. “Well, is it true?”

  “He died because of the cold weather. Some kind of scavenger gnawed at him.”

  “Oh,” Celine said and continued to eat.

  “You know we never found your father’s gear,” he continued.

  Celine let her spoon plop into her half-eaten meal.

  “Dad’s gear wasn’t found?”

  “Nope…Neither was his assistant’s. But there’s probably no way that he could have survived in those hills. He didn’t have enough O2 pills to last a month. How long has your dad been missing again?”

  Celine didn’t respond. She didn’t hear anything after realizing her father’s gear hadn’t been found. Morg and his crew haven’t found Dad’s gear because Dad has it! He’s still alive! She had renewed hope that her father was out there somewhere. She had to tell her grandma. She quickly slurped the rest of her breakfast and headed out. “See you later, Morg. I’ve got to go.”

  “Good day,” she heard him say as she rushed to the entrance through the corridor.

  Down the hall she raced, almost running into her mom’s best friend.

  “Sorry, Hannah,” Celine yelled.

  “Good day,” she heard Hannah say.

  “And so it is,” Celine called back, but she continued running until she arrived home. She pushed the green button, and the door to her small quarters slid open. She rushed in, plopped down in front of the family’s desk and snapped on the computer.

  “Enisi,” she said, but to Celine’s disappointment, Uji appeared instead.

  “Celine, you must complete your school lessons. You may call your Enisi when there is relevant school data in your files.”

  “I can finish my history assignment in twenty minutes. Can’t you at least start the call?”

  “When you are finished, I will call her,” Uji said then vanished.

  Celine sucked her teeth, but she took out a small tablet from her drawer. She clicked on her avatar, a reddish-brown Cherokee girl with two long braids. Then Celine began listening to her prerecorded history lesson from Earth.

  Celine completed her assignment thirty minutes later, and Uji reappeared.

  “You may call now,” Uji said and, once again, evaporated.

  “Call Enisi,” Celine said. “Now what to do for twenty minutes?”

  Uji reappeared. “You can complete your Innovative thinking assignment.”

  Celine rolled her eyes. She jumped onto the floor next to her dad’s drawer and opened it. She pulled out his wooden flute.

  “Or I can play Dad’s flute,” she said.

  “You may,” Uji said, peering over Celine’s shoulder.

  Celine wrapped her nimble fingers around the flute and pressed it gently to her lips and blew.

  Uji smiled.

  For twenty minutes, Celine poured her heart into creating music. It calmed her and reminded her of how much her dad enjoyed hearing her play it. Suddenly, her concert was interrupted by grandmother’s voice.

  “Harmony unto you, Granddaughter,” her grandmother said.

  Uji disappeared. The A.I. always knew when to give Celine her privacy.

  “Harmony unto you, Enisi,” Celine said.

  Enisi had long, feathery silver hair and deep, dark eyes. Her full nose sat in the middle of a cracked and weathered copper-colored face, untouched by stem regeneration. She appeared soft and feminine in her bright red cotton-like dress with its embroidered yellow-and-blue birds, but she was much stronger than she appeared. She was a chief and spiritual healer. Many members of her community came to her for advice regarding both the living and the dead. To her granddaughter, however, she was Enisi: her father’s mom and the only grandmother she had ever known.

  Celine placed her flute gently on her parents’ bunk.

  “You play nicely,” Enisi said. “You remind me of your father when you play it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Your call was unexpected. Is there any news about your dad? Have they found him?”

  Celine swallowed. “They’ve found his assistant.”

  “Mr. Takei? How is he?”

  “He’s dead, Enisi. But they can’t find his gear. And Dad’s gear is missing
too. That means something…Doesn’t it? Dad must have it. He must have found a way to survive.”

  “Slow down, my child,” Enisi said gently. Her dark eyes were a sea of calm.

  “Enisi, Mom is going to marry Morg.” Celine said it in one breath and then began to hyperventilate as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Mr. Francis Morg? The chief protector?” Enisi lifted a single eyebrow.

  “Yes!” Celine continued sobbing. “I don’t like Morg, Grandma. I don’t think he’s really trying to find my dad.”

  Enisi sat straight up and placed her folded hands into her lap. Her eyes could not hide her concern. Finally she spoke, “Do not worry about things you cannot control. I will see what I can do at this end.” She rubbed her wrinkled hands together and then said, “Are you aware that Mr. Rittenhouse, the colony’s CEO, will be arriving on Mars for an inspection.”

  “Yes! And his son is coming too!” Celine said as she wiped a tear.

  “Well, he’s actually coming to get coordinates for an ore deposit. The coordinates were lost with your father,” Enisi said. “If you have the opportunity, let Mr. Rittenhouse know you think your father is missing, not dead. Let me know what he says. Remain strong, Celine.”

  “I will, Grandma,” Celine said.

  Suddenly the computer screen went white.

  “Those darn solar flares! I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye…”

  Uji reappeared. “Celine, you have remaining lessons that must be logged in today.”

  “All right, I guess I’ll get started,” Celine said and picked up her tablet.

  After logging four hours of school lessons, Celine was ready for some physical activity in the exercise room. She pressed the door lock, expecting the door to slide open. It didn’t. She stood there, momentarily stunned. Then she pressed her thumb against the lock—this time even harder. Nothing.

  Thoughts about disease and quarantines flooded her head. She was afraid to put her thumb on the lock again. “This can’t be happening to me.” Celine could feel her heart pounding and her throat getting dry. Every molecule in her body was on high alert. “Uji?” she said with a quiver in her voice.