Droppers, p.1
Droppers, page 1
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Preface
Green Deck
Thomas
Daybreak
Chute
Cans
Mars Base
Cans
Mars Base Zero Day One
Cans
Mars Base Zero Day One - Evening
Mars Base Zero Day Two
Day One
Day Two
Cans
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Cans
Day Eight
Day Nine
Cans
Day Eleven
Mars Base One West
Cans
Day Fourteen
Cans
Day Seventeen
Cans
Night
Day Eighteen
Cans
Day Nineteen
Cans
Day Twenty
Day Twenty-One
Day Twenty-Two
Day Twenty-Three
Cans
Day Twenty-Four
Fire and Ice
Exodus
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Survivors
Acknowledgements
Characters
About the Author
Also by J. J. Mathews
The Recycled Earth
1. Searchers
2. Droppers
3. Survivors
The Recycled Earth
Book 2
J. J. Mathews
Copyright © 2023 J. J. Mathews
Smashwords edition
All rights reserved.
First published in 2023
Cover artwork by Mail Creative / @mailcreative
https://www.instagram.com/mailcreative
No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.
Print ISBN: 9781738608096
eBook ISBN: 9780995136434
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Mouse Moon Press
PO Box 27055
Garnett Ave
Hamilton 3257
New Zealand
www.mousemoonpress.com
Dedication
For my sons, Michael, Liam and Daniel.
Preface
Year 998 P.E. (Post Earth)
A thousand years ago, humans destroyed the Earth.
Dead. No life. Gone.
We now live in thirteen Arks orbiting the dead planet, hoping it will someday recover and support life once more.
Searchers have spent centuries looking in vain for signs of recovery on the Earth below, and for hospitable planets out amongst the stars.
Day in, day out, analysing the endless streams of images that Oversight brings them, looking for the tell-tale green of life.
Until one day, eighteen-year-old Miya sees something else.
Something that shouldn’t exist on the dead planet below.
Something she isn’t supposed to see.
Green Deck
Year 998 P.E. (Post Earth)
“You scared the absolute shit out of me!” Miya fell back onto the rock, the sample case still clutched tightly in her hands.
“Sorry,” said the voice as it pulled a large animal skin away from its head. Underneath was a boy of about fifteen, maybe sixteen. “It helps keep away the real ones.”
Miya blinked. “Real ones what?”
“Animals.” The boy stepped forward and extended a hand. “Here, let me help you up. It takes a while to get used to the extra gravity down here, or so they say.”
Miya accepted the outstretched hand and let him pull her up to her feet. She could have done it herself, of course, but she was bruised and battered. “Thanks. It’s not so bad.”
“Really?” The boy’s eyebrows rose. “Most people can’t walk properly for days; we need to drag some of them on a travois before they get eaten. We don’t always get there in time.”
“What’s your name?” Miya put her hands on her hips. The gravity was a little strong, but not much worse than lower blue, just above black. The air seemed a little thinner, though. “I’m Miya.”
“Oh.” The boy nodded. “Samuel Dickens Hemingway Faulkner Kafka Jones.”
“Wow.”
“The second.”
“There are two of you? That’s a lot of names. My name’s just Miya, Miya Meyers.”
“That rhymes. I should have thought of that. Too late now, though. Or maybe not.”
“What are you talking about, Samuel Dickens Hemingway Fuck—”
“Faulkner Kafka Jones.” He smiled. “The second. The fourth name’s pronounced Faulkner, Fow-k-n-er, I think. Not fuck. That’s rude. But you can call me Sam. Most people don’t bother with the rest of the names. But I like them, so I collect them.”
Miya blinked. “You … collect … names. And you wear some big scary hairy thing on your head, so other big scary things like it don’t eat you?”
“That’s right.”
“Am I dead? This is … strange.”
“Some call it gravity sickness. But you seem to be okay, though, which is even stranger. Where are you from? Did you actually crawl out of that dropper capsule?”
Miya pointed at her stained knees. “Vomit. Matches the stuff on the padding in the sampler. The capsule. You can go check it, if you like, but I’m not going back in if I don’t have to. It stinks.”
“I believe you … Miya.”
“Not Mee-ah, MY-AH. Get it right, fuckner.”
“Sorry.”
“What kinds of names are these, anyway? The ones you collect.”
Sam shrugged. “Writer’s names, mostly. I like to read. There are bits and pieces left here in the ruins. I like books the best. Most of them have turned to dust, but not all. And all the books have names in the front. It’s who wrote them, I guess.”
“You guess. And then you add those names to yours?”
“Exactly.” Sam grinned. “That’s what I do.”
“Strange, very strange. Did you ask them if you could use their names? They might not like you taking their names. Most people are given names by their parents, just the first ones. The last one’s already there. And am I really having this idiotic conversation with a boy who wears scary-as-shit-furs-with-a-toothy-head-so-he-doesn’t-get-eaten? Really? Next to a smear of shit that spells out CLIVE? I must be dead. There’s no other explanation. The real world could not be more messed up than this. I’m dead, that’s it. I burned up on re-entry, I think you call it. My ashes are spread to the … what the fuck is going on here, Sam?”
Sam blinked. “Um … hi. You’re pretty scary, you know? Like an Ur-bear. And, um, you’re definitely alive. Did you want me to … pinch you or something?”
“You stay the fuck away from me, but don’t go anywhere. Let me figure this out.”
“Okay.” Sam stood in one spot, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Miya slowly turned around, studying her surroundings. She rubbed her arms. Cold. The green rock and the shit were on a bigger white rock in a small clearing, which was surrounded by trees. Like they did a real close zoom in on the rock and carefully left out everything else. “Bastards.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Nothing, Sam. I’m happy to meet you, and I think I might not be dead, after all. But this is…”
“Different from what you expected? Most people find that. They expect red sand, space suits, no breathable air and, well … Mars.”
“I know this is Earth. I figured it out. I saw the shit from up there, remember? By the rock.”
“Oh.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Right. The message.”
Miya took a deep breath. It was getting colder, and the light wasn’t as intense as it had been. “Can you please tell me why that pile of shit now spells out CLIVE? I saw a pile of shit on the console screen.”
“Oh.” Sam blushed. “That’s an easy one. The image you saw must have been taken before he’d finished.”
“Finished what?”
“Signing it. Clive signs his paintings. It’s really disgusting, but he’s not right in the head. Harmless, otherwise. But not right. Not right at all.”
“What do I do with the sample case?” Miya pointed. “The handle’s still flashing. The capsule said to take a sample.”
“Seriously?” Sam shook his head. He walked over to the sample case and popped it open with two thumbs, pulled out a swab, rubbed it across the letter ‘E’, stuck the swab into a clear glass tube, then inserted it all into the flashing receptacle. “There. Sample submitted.”
Miya flushed. “Um … should you have done that?”
Sam snorted. “Why would you care about what some capsule wants you to do?”
Miya stared at him in shock. “I don’t know.”
Sam sighed. “Sorry. They just don’t seem to care about us down here. It annoys me.”
“I’m getting cold.” Miya shivered in the thin fabric of her one-piece Searcher uniform.
“Put your j
“I don’t have a jacket.”
“It’s inside the capsule, with your basic survival supplies.”
“I didn’t see any.”
“Look under the pads.”
“I don’t want to go back in there. Vomit all over the pads.”
“It’s your vomit. I’m not doing it for you.”
“Ugh. Fine. Just give me a minute.” Miya climbed back into the capsule and began tugging at the padding.
“Uh, there are supposed to be straps you can pull on,” Sam called out.
“Found them,” Miya yelled back. She started throwing bags and packets and miscellaneous items out of the capsule onto the dirt.
Several minutes later she re-emerged, puffing and sweating. “I think that’s it.”
Sam frowned at her. “Um, you probably shouldn’t have been doing that.”
“What?” Miya wiped sweat from her brow. “I worked on blue deck a lot, and that’s as close to a full G as you can get, except black. I feel fine. A little winded, maybe, but not bad.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Sam bit his lip. “I meant sweat.”
“So, I sweated a little. I’ll clean up later.”
Sam gestured with an arm. “Where? We’ve got a ways to go to get to Mars Base—”
“Have you seen my parents?”
“What?”
“My parents. They went to Mars Base like all the other parents. Have you seen them?”
Sam blinked. “Their names?”
“Melvyn and Cherisse. Last name Meyers, like me.”
“No, but I’ve been away. So maybe they’re around somewhere. But like I said, we’ve got a ways to go to get to Mars Base, and it’s going to get colder, and dark. You need to dry off, or you’re going to freeze to death before we get back. Even with the jacket you’re currently standing on, getting muddy.”
“Oops.” Miya lifted her foot and tugged the jacket out of the dirt. It was damp, and muddy. “It’s okay. I’ll just put it on. Then we can go.”
“Stop.” Sam waved his hands. “Just … stop. You can’t do that.”
Miya put her hands on her hips. “Really?”
“You strip down, and I’ll start a fire. We’re not going anywhere. It’s almost dark now, and you’re sopping wet. What a dodo.”
Miya froze. “Dodo?”
“That’s what you’re being right now. What do they call it up there? You’re a … newbie, down here. And a newbie that’s being a complete idiot is a dodo. I think I got that right.”
“Shit.” Miya sighed. “Bloody dodos. That’s me, twice in one day, and that’s why I’m down here.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “I thought you came down because of Clive’s pre-composition piece. Before he signed it.”
“Well, yeah, but I did a dodo thing, I flicked a switch I shouldn’t have, and I had to run. I was being chased. I hid in the sampler, accidentally started it moving, and now here I am. Do I get to meet Clive?”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Sounds like a double dodo day, now three. You’ll eventually get to meet Clive if you live long enough. But right now, I’m wondering how long that will be. I’m pegging a few hours, tops.”
Miya held out her hands. “Look, whatever dodo thing I just did, I’m sorry. Can we go now? I’m cold.”
“No.” Sam tossed some sticks on top of Clive’s faecal artwork. “No. You strip down, and I’ll start the fire. And then I’ll set up the biv, and lay out the bedroll I always bring on the travois, and then we’ll get you warmed up, and we’ll eat dinner, and talk. And then go to bed early, stay warm, and head out in the morning. That’s what we do in situations like this.”
“I don’t understand anything that you just said, except dinner. I’m a little hungry, too. And cold.”
“And that,” Sam sighed, “is why you’re a dodo. What was your job?”
“Sanitation.”
“I know nothing about that. Anyway, what do you call the youngest newbie in sanitation?”
“A squid.”
“And what do you call a senior person in sanitation?”
“An Octopus. I was one of those. Then there was Poseidon. He ran the whole underworld. Poseidon was the god of the sea. His real name is Kasem.”
“Right, colourful names. Nice.” Sam nodded. “Well, listen up and listen up good, squid. I’m the Octopus now. Do you understand me?”
Miya flushed. “Yes.”
“Do you want to be a dodo, squid?”
“No. That would be dumb.”
“Okay.” Sam sighed. “Now, remember I’m the Octopus or whatever, the senior, and you’re new, the squid thing. Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. If you want to live through the night, you’ll do exactly what I say. Squids listen to Octo-whatevers. Unless you’re being a dodo. Dodos get dead down here, real fast. And then they get eaten by something big and scary, and then the scary thing shits them out. And then Clive makes art, though mostly it’s his own shit he’s painting with. Disgusting, no matter whose shit it is. Anyway, squid, I need you to strip off those wet clothes, and I mean right now, and put a blanket on to cover yourself and keep warm until the fire gets going. And then we can dry your clothes, so you can put them back on in the morning. And then we can head out. Are you clear on that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now strip off so you can get dry.” He turned to stare at the small glowing red thing he’d made on the flat, white rock. A fire, he’d called it.
It warmed her face from where she stood. “How old are you, Sam?”
He looked up at her. “I said strip your clothes off, and I meant it. Newbies die here all the time, often on their first day. The Earth is a harsh mistress. Maybe she doesn’t like us having another kick at the can. I don’t know. But I won’t look, if that’s what’s bothering you. There’s a spare blanket on the travois, over there at the edge of the trees. It’s with the rest of my travel supplies. Just don’t drop anything in the mud. But that will turn to ice, soon enough, so mud won’t be as much of a problem come dark. But you need to listen to me, squid, and you listen up good. Ice is bad. Frozen water. And snow. Snow is worse. It’s frozen, but it melts on you easy, then it gets you wet, and freezes. And then you need to make a fire, like this, to dry out. Or you freeze to death. Dead, solid ice all the way through. I’ve seen it, and it’s not pretty. Ice. And dead. Now, strip.”
Miya shivered. “You sound a lot older than you look, you know. Experienced.”
“I am experienced. A full Octopus. I’d say Poseidon, but that just sounds snooty. Presumptuous.”
“How old are you, then? Is it a secret?”
“No.” He poked the fire with a stick. “I’m twenty-three.”
“No shit. You don’t look twenty-three. You look maybe fifteen or sixteen years tall.”
Sam looked up at her as he warmed his hands over the small, cheerful blaze in front of him. “I wasn’t born up there, Miya. I was born down here, on Earth. You’re running out of daylight, and the temperature drops fast at this time of year. Get a blanket from the trav, at least. You look too pretty to bury, and Ur-bears make a big mess of the ones who froze. It would be a real shame. Dodo. Still not listening to me.”
“They call it Mars, you know. Mars Base. But it’s not.”
Sam poked the fire with a stick. It made pretty little sparks. “I know, and we have signs up and everything, because it’s ironic, and some people think it’s funny. But I’m not a Martian. I was born here. And this is Earth. I’m an Earther. And we don’t grow as tall as you do up there. Stronger gravity, one G, constant, no significant changes up and down with elevation, not enough to notice. One standard G, based on Earth, where you are now. That’s all. Now strip and put a blanket on. I can already see ice forming in your hair. Bloody dodo.”
“What’s that?” Miya pointed, shivering under the blanket. She was squatting facing the fire, which warmed her front nicely, but she was still cold. She had also put on some poorly fitting clothes that Sam had given her to wear as she warmed up and her clothes dried.
