The First Mann on Mars - Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven of the hilarious new science fiction novel, The First Mann on Mars by best selling, multi-award-winning author Mark Watson...
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The First Mann on Mars
©Copyright 2024 by Mark Watson
THE STORY SO FAR…
Moronic Billionaut Derek Mann, along with his snarky, silver AI sidekick Barry Wilkinson, have been rescued from an ugly, dangerous spaceship and have now landed on Mars. Back on Earth, things have gone predictably wrong—most of Northern Europe has been obliterated after Derek’s genius friend Noel decided to crank the Large Hadron Collider up to eleven. The rest of the planet is now enjoying the charming chaos of a post-apocalyptic era. Meanwhile, Derek and Barry have discovered that Mars is far from a barren dustbowl…
Chapter Eleven: A Cosmic Scavenger Hunt
Glerktergle, the Venusian ambassador, huffed out of the Martian Prime Minister’s office in what he presumably imagined was a display of righteous fury. In reality, it more closely resembled an over-caffeinated, angry, green chicken attempting to tango in roller skates. His voice, sharpened by indignation and a lifetime of self-importance, echoed through the corridors of Parliament, treating all within earshot to a colorful array of curses in at least three Venusian dialects and, inexplicably, one form of Neptunian semaphore.
The Prime Minister sighed, leaned back in his chair, and turned to Derek, Barry, and Doreen, who were still trying (unsuccessfully) to stifle their grins.
“Well,” the Prime Minister said with the tone of a man accustomed to frequent migraines, “that was unpleasant, as always.” He gestured for them to sit, which they did, trying their best to look like responsible, interplanetary citizens and not like the sort of people who’d just humiliated an ambassador by chucking a sausage in his face.
With a wave of his hand, the highlight reel of Derek’s sausage-throwing escapade—complete with slow-motion impacts and dramatic close-ups of Glerktergle’s flustered expressions—vanished from the enormous screen behind the desk. It was replaced by a screensaver of Mars’ more idyllic landscapes: rolling green hills, waterfalls cascading down jagged cliffs, and birds so exotic they probably didn’t even exist.
“It really was a most unfortunate accident,” Derek began, his tone dripping with sincerity that was, quite frankly, unconvincing. “I didn’t mean to cause a diplomatic incident.”
“Meh,” the Prime Minister replied with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Venus declared war on the entire solar system months ago. Something about our refusal to embrace their mandatory ‘One Planet, One Pastry’ policy. Frankly, we’ve all been avoiding them ever since. Glerktergle, in particular, is such a monumental pain in the arse that if you’d hit him with a frying pan instead of a sausage, I’d be giving you a medal.”
Doreen leaned over and gave Derek a reassuring pat on the hand, which, for reasons he couldn’t entirely articulate, felt very comforting.
The Prime Minister cleared his throat, as if to signal the end of his rant. “Anyway, let’s move on to the reason you’re here, shall we?”
From a drawer that appeared to contain the most bewildering assortment of odds and ends ever assembled in a single place—including what looked suspiciously like a rubber duck in a spacesuit—he retrieved a device roughly the size and shape of an antique television remote. It had one large, ominous button in the middle and, emblazoned across the top in bright, cheerful lettering, the words:
"LARGE HADRON UN-COLLIDER."
“I thought I had one of these lying around somewhere,” the Prime Minister said, handing the device to Barry as though it were a slightly disappointing party favor.
Barry turned the device over in his hands, looking both intrigued and deeply skeptical.
“Oh! I know what that is!” Nole’s voice chirped suddenly in their heads, like an over-eager quiz show contestant buzzing in. “It’s a Large Hadron Un-Collider!”
“Yes, thank you, Nole,” Barry said patiently. “We gathered that. What we don’t know is how to use it.”
“Simple!” Nole continued, with the sort of relentless enthusiasm only an artificial intelligence could maintain. “You point it directly at the problem and press the button. Like so…”
A glowing red line appeared in Barry’s vision, tracing a path directly to the small, bright speck of Earth visible through the window.
Barry stood, walked to the window, and aimed the device with the solemnity of a man preparing to solve a problem he didn’t entirely understand. He pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
“Did it work? Is that it?” Derek asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately not,” the Prime Minister said, looking deeply unimpressed. “It’s out of batteries.”
Barry stared at the device in disbelief. “Out of batteries? A device designed to reverse catastrophic collisions in particle physics is powered by AA batteries?”
“Budget cuts,” the Prime Minister replied with a shrug. “The Martian Parliament voted to prioritize funding for hover-bike racing and holographic cheese tastings. You’d be surprised how much holographic cheese costs.”
“I suppose this means we’re going to need batteries,” Doreen said, sounding far more resigned than surprised.
“Correct,” the Prime Minister said. “And not just any batteries. The Large Hadron Un-Collider runs on… oh, what’s the technical term again?”
“Quantum Duracells,” Nole supplied cheerfully.
The room went silent.
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Where do we find those?”
The room grew quiet as the Prime Minister leaned forward, his face a perfect blend of bureaucratic weariness and a man who knew he was about to ruin someone’s day. His fingers tapped thoughtfully on the desk as he delivered his next statement with all the gravitas of a judge handing down a life sentence.
“I should probably mention,” he began, “that Quantum Duracells are not exactly the sort of thing you can pick up at the local corner shop.”
“Brilliant,” Derek muttered, his head still firmly in his hands.
“They are,” the Prime Minister continued, ignoring him, “constructed from a very particular combination of materials. Each battery requires a blend of exotic minerals and jewels, harvested from each of the major planets in the solar system. It’s a… how shall I put this? A bit of a scavenger hunt.”
Barry raised a metallic eyebrow, an impressive feat for a robot without eyebrows. “Are you telling us,” he asked slowly, “that in order to power this absurdly specific piece of technology, we need to hop from planet to planet, collecting shiny rocks like some sort of interplanetary magpies?”
“Exactly!” the Prime Minister said, clapping his hands together as though Barry had just solved a riddle.
Derek groaned audibly. “Of course. Of course that’s what we have to do. Why wouldn’t it be?”
The Prime Minister ignored him and reached into another drawer, this one containing what appeared to be a stack of laminated maps, a tin of biscuits, and a half-finished crossword puzzle. He pulled out a chart and unfurled it on the desk.
“Here’s the breakdown,” he said, pointing to a series of colorful, glittering icons scattered across a map of the solar system. “Each planet provides one critical ingredient for the Quantum Duracells. Without all of them, the batteries simply won’t function. Let’s start with Mars, since you’re already here.”
He tapped a red gem icon hovering over the planet.
“From Mars, you’ll need Olympium, a rare crystalline mineral found only in the caves beneath Olympus Mons. It glows faintly red and is known for causing mild hallucinations if licked. Don’t lick it.”
“Noted,” said Doreen, jotting it down on her wrist communicator.
“Next,” the Prime Minister continued, “Venus. You’ll need a chunk of Sulphirite. It’s a sulfurous gemstone that forms in the acidic clouds of Venus. Extraction is… tricky. You’ll probably want to wear something flame-retardant.”
“Lovely,” Derek muttered.
“Moving on to Jupiter,” the Prime Minister said, pointing to a swirling storm icon. “The Great Red Spot is home to Storm Diamonds, formed in the crushing atmospheric pressures of the planet’s storms. You’ll need a collector drone for this one. I recommend avoiding the lightning.”
“Of course,” said Barry, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Avoid the lightning. Why didn’t I think of that?”
The Prime Minister tapped Saturn next.
“Saturn offers Ring Opals, which are only found embedded in the ice of the planet’s rings. You’ll need a spacecraft with precision tools to extract them without disrupting the orbit. The last crew that tried it accidentally sent a chunk of the rings spiraling toward Neptune. It was… awkward.”
“Neptune, you say?” Barry asked, his voice taking on a decidedly skeptical tone.
“Ah, yes, Neptune!” The Prime Minister’s finger slid to the far edge of the map. “From Neptune, you’ll need a piece of Deep Blue Crystal, found only in the liquid oceans beneath the planet’s icy surface. Be warned, the Neptunians are not particularly fond of visitors, so you may need to do some creative diplomacy.”
Derek rubbed his temples. “I’m guessing ‘creative diplomacy’ means bribery?”
“Possibly,” the Prime Minister admitted, “though the Neptunians do love karaoke. A well-timed rendition of ‘Rocket Man’ can work wonders.”
“And Uranus?” Doreen asked, trying to stifle a giggle.
“Ah, Uranus,” the Prime Minister said, with the air of a man who had long since stopped finding the name amusing. “From Uranus, you’ll need a fragment of Frozen Glowstone, which is mined from the methane-rich surface. It’s extremely slippery, so… good luck with that.”
“And Earth?” Barry asked, his tone curious.
“Earth,” the Prime Minister said, his voice turning somber, “provides the final and most critical ingredient: A Terran Diamond. It’s only in...”
“We’ve got that!” Chirped Nole, “We’ve got a drill in the module with a diamond tip.”
Derek smiled. “Fantastic. One down. So, to summarize, we have to dive into acid clouds, dodge lightning storms and perform karaoke for Neptunians. Did I miss anything?”
“Well,” the Prime Minister said thoughtfully, “you’ll also need to stop by Pluto to pick up some Cryo Quartz, but that’s technically optional. It just makes the batteries last longer.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Derek said, throwing up his hands. “Optional! What a relief.”
The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Think of it as an adventure. After all, it’s not every day you get to save the solar system and collect rare jewels.”
Derek stared at him. “You don’t get out much, do you?”
The Prime Minister shrugged. “Perks of the job. Anyway, good luck! And do try not to die. It’s terribly inconvenient for paperwork.”
The Prime Minister leaned forward, his expression suddenly serious.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, his tone lowering as though he were about to reveal the plot twist of an epic space opera. “Venus. As you are no doubt aware, they’re not particularly on speaking terms with the rest of the solar system at the moment. You’ll need to be… inconspicuous.”
“Define ‘inconspicuous,’” Derek said warily, already dreading the answer.
“Well,” the Prime Minister said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers in a way that suggested he was enjoying this a little too much, “Venusians are, as you may have noticed, green. Very green. And since you three are, shall we say, distinctly not green, you’re going to need a bit of camouflage.”
“Camouflage?” Derek repeated.
“Yes,” the Prime Minister said cheerfully…
“We’re going to have to dye you green.”
END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN
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"You'll find the Quantum Duracells next to the Quantum Energizers and Quantum Everreadys."