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Olympus Mons Mining Pits (Two days later)
Deep inside the gigantic, long dead volcano shaft of Olympus Mons, one hundred prisoners mined in the circular room that spanned over several hundred yards from its center to the outer edges. Half of the men swung heavy pickaxes while the other half used large scoop shovels. They dug and shoveled the reddish-brown soil into long sifter machines. These massive sifters clacked and vibrated, separating the Martian soil from the valuable gem, known as MarQuebes.
Armed guards with laser rifles patrolled the outer edges of the enormous mining pit. Approximately one hundred yards above, another line of guards stood along the narrow ridge path at critical vantage points.
The mindless miners dug, scooped, and flung dirt. Their in sync rhythm was mechanical, never missing a beat. Sweat formed reddish mud, coating their faces, arms, and clothing. They continually repeated the process without mumbling a single word or complaint. The miners even blinked methodically, never making eye contact with one another or taking a moment to glance away from their assigned tasks. Their eyes were glazed over, no emotion registered on their faces, and their movements didn’t appear any differently than how a programmed humanoid acted. In fact, they were more like machines than humans.
Magnus Knight, a massive black miner, scooped a shovelful of dirt and tossed it into the sifter. Then another and another. Sweat dripped from his bald head, beaded on his brow, and dripped into his eyes. Although the salt stung, he resisted wiping it away. The other prisoners mined without pausing, without glancing around or slowing their pace, and it pained Magnus to keep up, but he did. Something was wrong with the other miners but what exactly he wasn’t certain. However, the constant shoveling weighed upon him, but he told himself to keep pace with the others. Keeping up while trying to regulate his breathing grew harsher with each passing hour. He feared he’d pass out long before their shift ended, and they were sent back to their cells.
He wondered how these miners maintained their stamina, never tiring or breathing hard, but all he could do was mimic them. Since none of them ever talked or even cursed beneath their breath, he never tried to converse with them. He was afraid to do anything other than mine, due to the armed patrolling guards. The worst part about his ordeal was that he didn’t remember anything about how he had arrived at the mines, but physically and mentally he couldn’t continue this charade much longer.
Magnus had actually awakened two days earlier, or at least that’s how he chose to define it. He didn’t have any clue how long he had worked in the Olympus Mons Mines alongside these other hypnotized slaves because he wasn’t even certain what month, day, or year it was. All he remembered was the sudden severe headache that brought his vision slowly back into reality. Heavy breathing, shovels scooping, and the loud rattling of the sifting machines were the first sounds that welcomed him from his deep hypnotic daze. At first, he had thought he was having a bad nightmare, but his mind had processed his surroundings and adapted at a rapid pace.
The awakening had caused him to pause for a moment, but then he kept shoveling. He wondered what had prompted him to continue scooping dirt rather than questioning what he was doing or trying to walk away. But after overhearing two guards talking, he learned about the computerized chips that were being used to control the prisoners. He realized that perhaps he had shoveled the red gritty soil for so long that his body continued doing whatever his mind had been programmed to do. Muscle memory, as some termed it. He supposed habit or involuntary instinct had saved his life.
While he shoveled, Magnus continually studied the other prisoners around him. For hours he had waited for someone to talk to help take his mind off the menial physical labor, but no one ever spoke. He watched and observed the guards with causal side-glances while he copied the actions of the other prisoners. To escape, he understood that he’d be alone in such an attempt since the others were controlled to total silence and even if he spoke to them, none would assist him. He doubted that they’d even hear the words at all.
An odd groan caught his attention. Using his peripheral vision, Magnus noticed that a miner dropped his shovel and clamped his hands to the sides of his head. The man’s eyes bulged. His face flushed red, his head shook, and he screamed. His loud scream could be heard over the thundering machines. Although concerned about the man, Magnus kept shoveling like the other unalarmed prisoners. While scooping shovels of dirt, he watched the crazed miner without turning his head. It was difficult fighting his curiosity, but he had trained himself to never react out of haste. Remaining somber didn’t alert the guards that he wasn’t like his coworkers. He was safer doing what the other zombie-like prisoners did.
The wild-eyed miner stepped out of the line. Froth foamed at the sides of his mouth, and without any further hesitation, he tore into a sprint.
The guard closest to this prisoner punched buttons on a small handheld device, rather than attempting to physically stop the man.
Guards along the perimeter raised their rifles to shoot. But before they captured him within their sights, the miner ran headlong, driven by pain, and flung himself over the ledge into the waste pit below. Magnus didn’t have to see the man’s body to know that the man was dead. The drop to the bottom was over fifty feet. This sudden drama didn’t draw any attention from the miners working around him, either.
“Dammit!” A guard shouted into his jacket transmitter. “Jenner! We’ve had another Sleeper Chip malfunction!”
“Copy that, Eddings,” Jenner replied. “I’m on my way.”
Sleeper Chip? Is that what they call it? Magnus kept his head down and kept shoveling.
Eddings stood at the ledge, overlooking the pit. Jenner ran through the line of miners and stopped beside Eddings. He peered down at the bottom of the pit and shook his head.
“That’s the second one this week,” Eddings said.
Jenner nodded. “I know. The upgraded chips have been shipped from Earth, but it will still be months before they arrive.”
“That may be too late. If every chip malfunctions, we’ll lose control of the prisoners. We’re already outnumbered six to one. Without these chips, there’ll be no way to keep the prisoners in check. We’ll be dead.”
“Let’s hope these chips hold out until the new ones arrive.”
An emergency alarm wailed, followed by the command, “Guards, send all prisoners to their cells.”
When the alert echoed through the mining shaft, perimeter guards pulled out handheld computer devices and typed commands into them. The prisoners immediately dropped their picks and shovels. Magnus assumed the small devices sent radio frequency commands to the Sleeper Chips, which signaled the direct commands to the prisoners. So he dropped his shovel and stepped into the long single line. While they marched to their cells, Magnus stared straight ahead, imitating the other prisoners. He also wondered about these Sleeper Chips and the programmers that controlled them.
When Magnus had been a Texas state prisoner, he and other prisoners had been offered a work release from their sentences if they chose to work on Mars to become the first inhabitants of the red planet. They were also informed that they would have tracer chips implanted so they could be tracked in case any of them escaped. The last thing on Earth that he remembered was being taken to the infirmary to have the tracer chip implanted at the base of his skull. Apparently, the tracer chips were more than ordinary tracking devices.
Although the question lingered in his mind, he guessed that these chips were responsible for the near zombie comatose actions of the other miners. How else could people maintain the muscle-straining deterioration caused by mining nearly twelve hours a day with only a short lunch break? Without their mental faculties, the miners would never revolt. Hell, they couldn’t even complain. They had no idea of their aches and fatigue. And what disturbed Magnus even more was the amount of control the guards held over the prisoners, and to what extent they used such power.
After the prisoners entered the long corridor, Magnus stopped at the third cell on the right and waited. The thick glass door to his cell opened. He walked into his tiny room, stood at attention, and waited until the door closed. Once the door hissed shut, he released a long sigh, his shoulders slumped, and he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. His tight shoulders, arms, and the back of his neck pulsed from muscle spasms. Heat radiated off his skin. His lower back hurt in ways he couldn’t adequately describe in words. The thought of sleep tempted him, but a heated shower was even more inviting. Not only would the hot water soothe his aching muscles, he could wash away the sweat and grime that had embedded into his pores.
His thick hands were covered with old callouses and new blisters. Grit was packed beneath his cracked and chipped fingernails. It hurt to close his hands into fists.
From beneath the bed, soft chattering arose. A pink nose poked out from the edge and little narrow eyes stared with excitement.
“Digger,” Magnus said with a chuckle. After a couple of seconds, the critter slinked across the floor and nuzzled against his muddy pants leg.
He pulled a bent metal can out of his pocket. “I saved you some tuna, Digger.”
The gray-striped ferret chattered again. Magnus placed the can on the floor beside his bunk. Digger licked the tuna juice and nibbled at the meat.
Magnus arched his back. Several loud pops ran along his spine. He turned his head each direction and popped his neck. After stretching, he sat on the edge of the bunk and rubbed his aching right shoulder. He smiled down at the ferret. It was nice to have something to talk to after his long day of mining, especially since none of the other miners were capable of carrying on conversation. Of course, Digger didn’t talk but he was good at listening and soothing to pet.
“Sure am glad I found you,” Magnus said. “Man, I hurt all over. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.”
Digger busily lapped the tuna and juice from the can. The ferret never looked up. Instead, he devoured the food.
Magnus smiled and laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s all yours. No one’s going to fight you over it.”
The ferret had come through a hole into his cell the previous day, and the best Magnus could guess, the electricians were using ferrets to run electrical line from room to room and through narrow places where humans couldn’t possibly fit. Apparently Digger broke free of the harness line attached to his collar and never turned back.
“At least you got free of your captors, buddy.”
Magnus placed his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and rubbed them. He drifted between sleep and reality.
“I’ve got to find a way to escape and get back to Earth, Digger. Neither of us belongs here.”
The ferret looked up and regarded him for a moment with an inquisitive stare.
Magnus laughed. “Don’t worry, Digger. I ain’t leaving you behind. You’re coming, too. They probably worked you as hard as us miners, didn’t they? No telling how much electrical line you ran through these tunnels, but we’re going to get out of here somehow.”
He picked Digger up, stroked the back of his neck, and then he looked into its eyes. The ferret rubbed its nose against his massive hand. He scratched between the ferret’s ears, and Digger closed his eyes. “Oh, you like that, don’t you, boy?”
Dark shadows moved outside the glass door. Magnus tucked the ferret under his bunk. “Stay under there and don’t move. We have some visitors.”
The only people that roamed the halls were the guards, but none patrolled after the prisoners had been locked inside their cells. He wondered why they were there. The ferret? Had they come to take Digger?
Sadness crept into Magnus’ heart. His eyes moistened for a moment, but he fought hard to regain his composure. Any slip of emotion when the guards entered his cell might give him away. He couldn’t allow that. He swallowed, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Then he relaxed. Seated on the edge of the bed, he focused his attention on the door.
He gave the same blank stare that he did while mining, and he waited for the door to open.