The Ruins of Mars: Waking Titan (The Ruins of Mars Trilogy) by Dylan James Quarles Read Free Book Online Page A

out.
    Moving hand-over- hand down the line towards the hull of Braun, he stole a timid glance at the face of Mars, pockmarked and scarred. As if aware of his natural menace, the God of War glared back at Julian, his twin moons little black silhouettes against his rusty deserts that were the color of dried blood.
    Like ghosts, the moons Phobos and Deimos acted in accordance to their namesakes and elicited fear and dread .
    Chest growing tight, Julian recalled his countless h ours of training and experience then used those memories to slow his breathing.
    “Okay, five meters,” he radioed.
    “You’re looking really good, man,” assured Aguilar from the Lander.
    Quickly closing the gap between himself and the surface of Braun, Julian used his arm muscles to ease his pace down, feeling his lower body push against him in an attempt to continue its forward momentum. Gripping the anchor line loosely, he allowed his legs to come around until he was descending feet first, the universe turning upside down as he rotated. With a gentle bump, his boots made contact with the ceramic surface of Braun, and a surprising rush of relief washing over him.
    “I’ve made contact,” Julian said, allowing his mind to reorient itself to the shift in perspective.
    Reaching out, he brought himself into a crouch and grabbed at the first handhold he saw. From a distance, the entire shell of Braun looked smooth and white, save for the laser domes. But when viewed from up close, the ship was dimpled by hundreds of half-sphere relief wells inlayed with sturdy iron handles. Anchored to one such handle, the yellow balloon of the grappling hook had formed snuggly around the handhold, filling the space of the well like a plunger.
    With a second safety line taken from the rear of his belt, Julian clipped its carabineer to the next nearest handhold before disconnecting himself from the anchor cable that bound the Lander and the ship.
    “Alright, send me down the payload,” he said, twisting his head to better see the Lander hanging in space above him.
    Fixing a motor-powered trolley kit to the line, Aguilar added a large black duffel bag containing a silver power drill and a new laser dome then sent them rolling down to Julian.
    As the trolley approached, Julian clicked his teeth and waited impatiently. He hated feeling out in the open without a task to distract his mind. Slowing as it neared, the electric trolley puttered to a complete stop two meters above his head.
    “Fuck,” he spat angrily. “Goddamned NASA shop jocks! Why can’t anything built in America last?”
    “You’ll have to reach for it,” radioed Aguilar. “Use the anchor line to stabilize yourself and try to stand up.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Julian, blinking sweat from his eyes.
    Letting go of the handhold, he brought his feet underneath himself then pressed them carefully down against the surface of the hull. One fist wrapped tightly around the anchor line, he fought the subtly powerful rush of forward momentum, caused by pushing his boots against the ship. Because Julian’s mass was so miniscule in comparison to Braun’s, any hard or uncontrolled movement he made against the latter would result in a sort of backfire, sending him flailing out into space.
    “Okay, I’m standing,” he said. “I’m going to reach for the payload.”
    Stretching one arm out, he got a gloved fingertip on the corner of the trolley and pulled it down, again working against the momentum that tried to propel him away from the ship. With nimble fingers, he unclipped the duffel sack from the trolley and slung its strap over his shoulder. Then letting go of the anchor line, he drifted down until he could grab a handhold, using the metal rung to bring the rest of his body in towards the hull.
    Taking a moment to collect himself, the French engineer breathed in several cool lungfuls of air then began sliding along the hull towards the cracked laser dome.
    Struck by a micro-meteor no bigger than a