There's No Place Like Mars: Chapter 5

Back at his office, Chisolm pulled one of his desk drawers out, and dumped out its contents, scattering pens and papers and other objects all over the floor. He lifted the false bottom out of the drawer, pulled out out his revolver and a box of cartridges, and set them on the desk. Carefully he loaded the six chambers, spun the cylinder, and slammed it into place before slipping the gun into the pocket of his overcoat and the box of bullets into another.

There was a knock. “Come in!” he shouted irritably.

Bikram poked his head in, and the rest of his bird-like body followed. He closed the door and said, “Okay, I think we found the bullets.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. There was a shipment of tungsten rods sent to a machining factory south of here. I got in touch with a contact there, and he said that they'd all been tooled into balls the same diameter as the caliber of those railguns.”

“Shit, who's the customer.”

“Ah..well...it's Olympus Labs.”

Chisolm sat back in his chair, said, “Huh,” and studied the lines on Bikram's face. “Well, that makes things interesting. Did you know, Bikram, that we are being invaded?”

“Yeah, I don't know much about it. None of my contacts do either. There was no indication that any of this shit was going to happen. I wonder if their target is Olympus Labs.”

“I wonder if Olympus Labs knew they were coming. What sort of contacts do you have at Spartan University?”

“Not many. A couple of their loading workers, and...hell, I know a professor there in the I.T. Department.”

Chisolm chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, call them. See what you can find out. Tell Jessie to talk to her people in the P.D. and I'll be here for at least the next hour.”

An hour went by. Voronoi never called. Chisolm left his office, asked some of the other loading bay workers if they'd seen either Bikram or Jessie. He was answered by puzzled shrugs. Damn, he thought. What did a guy have to do to find out what the hell was going on in this town?

He checked the feeds as he walked and apparently, the military force had occupied the smelting factory and its surrounding dome community, but had made no further move. The Eden council had issued a statement that they were in talks with a liason from the Earthling army and assured the public that as soon as further information was available, they'd stick it right up their own asses—paraphrased, of course. Chisolm shook his head and folded up his PDA, slipping it into his satchel.

He fingered the pistol in his pocket warily, and headed off toward Voronoi's office. The fence ran a pressure suit repair shop as a front for his black market operation. Everyone on Mars was required by law to own one, and they periodically needed servicing. It was a convenient way to launder the money that they made selling contraband to the locals. It was all so much simpler when all they had to move was furniture and booze.

Two blocks from Voronoi's office, a woman stepped out of a doorway, walked up to him, took his hand, and pressed a piece of paper into it and said, “Agathadaemon,” and walked away.

Stunned, Chisolm looked down at the piece of paper for a moment before turning around and shouting, “Hey!” But the woman was nowhere to be seen.

He spun around in the street, feeling foolish and annoyed and frustrated. A few frightened-looking pedestrians sized him up. He sneered at them and they hurried on their way. Returning his attention once again to the piece of paper, he unfolded it and was met with something even more perplexing. A series of numbers. It appeared to be two sets of numbers with no signification as to what they might mean. And then there was that word. The woman had said, “Agathadaemon.” What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Pocketing the note, he continued his journey, making his way to Voronoi's store. There was a grizzled old man in there working on what looked like an air pressure regulator. He looked up when Chisolm entered. His eyes, magnified by a pair of goggles, looked like a pair of fish swimming back and forth as they focused in on Chisolm.

“Is Voronoi here?” he asked, politely.

“Just went out,” came the old man's raspy voice.

Chisolm sighed, said, “Did he leave a message for me? Horton Chisolm?”

The man screwed up his face in thought. Finally, he shook his head. “No, but he left in an awful quick hurry.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“Nope.”

“Ah...thanks,” said Chisolm, and he left, feeling somewhat relieved to be out of the man's presence.

He cursed under his breath as pulled out his phone and keyed in Voronoi's number. “You've reached Alistair Voronoi. Leave a friendly message.”

“Fuck you Voronoi! I'll eat your liver for breakfast you slimy grease bag. Call me back.”

Hanging up, he called keyed in Bikram, left an equally annoyed message, and then decided to try Jessie. Her voice came immediately, “Chisolm! Where have you been?”

“What?”

“We're being invaded!”

“I know that, Jessie. Did you talk to your people in the police department?”

“Yeah, they don't know anything. They're suiting up for a riot though, and they're heading to the east gate, just in case. They've got the guns out and everything. They've also got squads outside of Eden Tower. They're also doing regular patrols in the big trucks. You might see one, they're heading toward the bay.”

“Shit...Did you tell them anything about that shipment?”

“Nope, I didn't even bother. Bikram said that you were pretty sure it had something to do with Olympus Labs.”

“Yeah...”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Does the word 'Agathadaemon' mean anything to you?” he asked.

“God that rings a bell, boss,” she said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I can't put a finger on it.”

“Well put your fucking finger on it and meet me at the office. If you can find Bikram, tell him to call me. Meet me back at the office as soon as you can.”

“You got a plan?”

“No, but I will. There's gotta be some way we can come out on top of this whole mess.”