Murder on Mars

By Glenn L Erickson

The American colony on Mars suffers it first murder. The Dust Cartel is suspected of ordering his death. If word reaches Earth that a murder had happened on Mars, the entire colony project could be defunded and abandoned, leaving the Chinese in control of Mars.
The U.S. Space Force, The Agency", recruits disgraced astronaut and shuttle pilot Matt Hernandez to investigate his best friends murder and bring the guilty to justice. A trained martial artist and highly-effective bounty hunter, Matt is well suited to hunt down his friends murderer and root out the Cartel.
Matt faces intrigue and several attempts on his life within days of his arrival on Mars. Will he survive to find long enough to avenge his friend?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Glenn L Erickson
• Release date: Feb 19, 2024
• ISBN: 9798990184107

Glenn L Erickson

I am an original 'Geek' and proud of it. I started my life-long love of technology when transistors were new the word 'microprocessor' wasn't even a dream.I have earned my stripes since the late 1960s restoring old radios, and then in a TV shop during college.I moved to the Silicon Valley and loved it! (Lots of us geeks there) I now own an Automaton design and programming company that keeps me busy. I eagerly devour all articles on the latest technology, and envy those that will see that future. I'm a happy camper!

Book preview

Murder

On

Mars

By

Glenn L Erickson

Copyright 2024

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not buy it, or it wasn’t purchased for you, then please return to Smashwords.com and get your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

I wish to thank Rick McKenzie for his beautiful cover art. Should anyone also want to avail themselves of his talents, you can contact him at:

[e-mail]

Also by Glenn L Erickson. Published at Smashwords:

The Founding of Planet Haven

Practical Integrity

The Time Hostage

The Lottery-Winners Handbook

Escape to the Stars!

Starting a Business

Earth is Quarantined

The Earth Shrugged

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Take Down

Chapter 2: Intrusion

Chapter 3: Canaveral

Chapter 4: INVIDIOUS

Chapter 5: Mars

Chapter 6: Blending In

Chapter 7: Stealth

Chapter 8: Close Call

Chapter 9: Investigation

Chapter 10: Stranded

Chapter 11: The Huddle

Chapter 12: Revelation

Chapter 13: In Deep PooDoo

Chapter 14: Reality?

Chapter 15:Nightmares

Chapter 16: Fired

Chapter 17: Redemption

Chapter 18: Moving Day

Chapter 19: Watching and Waiting

Chapter 20: Merrill

Chapter 21: Exploration

Chapter 22: Introduction

Chapter 23: Headway

Chapter 24: Purge

Chapter 25: Justice is Served

Chapter 26: Closure

About the Author

Chapter 1: Take Down

I stepped from the shadows as my quarry turned away from the door to his motel room.

Chico?

Yeah? Crap! The stout Hispanic turned to run. I grabbed his right wrist and twisted, planting his face against the wall. He tried to turn, a knife in his left hand. I twisted further. He gasped and collapsed to the sidewalk as his shoulder popped wetly. The knife clattered to the concrete. I kicked it away.

You always do things the hard way, Chico?

He hissed through clenched teeth, then muttered, You’re a dead man. I’m gonna…

I kneeled on his shoulder. His shriek brought curious spectators from their rooms.

Leaning close, I said, If you cooperate, I’ll let the hospital fix your shoulder. Any more crap, it will be the least of your problems. Get up.

I stood and stepped back. He glared at me from the ground, panting. Shrugging, I grabbed the injured arm, pulled him to his feet and pushed him face-first into the wall, eliciting another shriek. I glanced at the watching guests. Bail jumper.

After cuffing him, I ungently led him towards my van and chained him to the built-in restraints. The slamming back door cut off his infuriated glare.

I gave the area a last, slow look around, then climbed into the driver’s seat. After filling out the report for the bondsman, I drove to the emergency room. Chico kept up a steady stream of threats and other invective.

Any problems, Matt? the bondsman asked as he handed me a roll of cash.

Shrugging, I replied, About average. You got anything else for me?

Nope. With you workin’ the area, lota guys are showin’ up to their hearings. You’re rough on jumpers.

They cooperate, I treat ‘em nice. They don’t, I don’t.

A slow circuit of the block near my house showed nothing out of place. After parking, I touch-checked my side-arm before quietly stepping from the van. A squeeze on my fob flooded the area with light. An indrawn breath was my only warning.

Ducking and turning to the right, I grabbed the club-hand, wrenched it behind my attacker’s back, then used my left hand to plant his face into the top of the low concrete wall lining my driveway.

I stepped back to look for accomplices. My attacker, a swarthy Latin man, swayed on his feet, his nose dripping blood.

I placed my hand on the butt of my equalizer. Your move.

He dropped the club and slowly raised his hands.

On the ground.

Nodding, he dropped to his knees, then slumped to the ground on his side. A nudge from my boot convinced him to roll onto his chest. I threatened his scrotum with the business end of my 9mm while frisking him. As I stepped away, the scrunch of tires on gravel drew my gaze to the far end of the street. A sedan sped away without lights.

You got loyal friends, amigo. I called the police.

Police lights strobed red and blue into the eyes of the curious neighbors. You really know how to win friends and influence enemies, Mato.

It’s a living, Lieutenant.

Shaking his head, the officer scribbled another entry, then nodded and headed to his car. The other cops had already left.

Unlocking the front door, I drew my sidearm, flipped on the interior lights, sniffed, then stepped in. I bolted the steel reinforced door, then checked the house and back door before holstering my weapon.

The phone rang as I set it into the charger. Caller ID displayed an unwelcome name.

Damn!

After ringing twice more, I touched the button on my earpiece.

Whadayawant?

A snort. Sociable, as always.

Get to the point.

Harchand’s dead.

Silence.

Did you hear me? Harchand’s dead. Murdered.

I heard ya. He’s on Mars. How’d he die?

Someone fucked with his suit. He suffocated. Gauge showed pressure, but the line was crimped. Tank was nearly empty.

Who’s investigating it?

No one. His deputy feels he’s in over his head. He says it’s Dust-related.

Shit

Dust is bad. Powdered native mushrooms grown in hidden niches in lava tubes on Mars. Highly addictive. Users feel no pain and are violently aggressive if provoked.

Thanks for letting me know, Dave. ‘Bye. I started to hang up.

Wait! The Agency wants you to investigate.

No fucking way! Fly to Mars and face the Dust Cartel? I face enough Dust crap here.

You have what it takes. Rango’s having your suit refurbished.

I’m retired. The agency wanted me gone, so I’m gone.

I’m reactivating you.

The hell you say. No one will fly with me since Leon’s death.

The review board cleared you Matt. His EVA suit failed. No one blames you anymore.

Uh-huh. So why do I still get hate-mail?

I can’t help that. Most people have forgotten it.

I haven’t. Find someone else. (click)

Chapter 2: Intrusion

Some memories fade. Some don’t.

Leon’s funeral was agony. Stevie manfully hiding his tears while gazing at the empty casket. Even at four years old, the kid knew his dad wasn’t ever coming home. He had hugged me and said it wasn’t my fault. The vacant stare from his mother said differently.

Someone hammering at my front door roused me. The security monitor showed who.

Go ‘way! I’m tryin’ to sleep. I bellowed.

Dammit, Bear, open the goddamned door!

Go ta hell!

Pounding now. Growling like the spirit of my tribal namesake; I jerked on my pants and tucked my piece into the small of my back. A quick scroll through the cameras showed my unwelcome visitor was alone. A black SUV was behind my van.

I disabled the security system and opened the front door a crack. I told you, Dave; no. Go away.

We need to talk. Dave’s weathered features were somber.

Snort. No. we don’t.

Your best friend’s been murdered, and you don’t care.

Harry knew the risk.

Harry… Harchand, asked you to go with him. You were a team. He was your co-pilot for years. He wanted to make sure the Mars colony succeeded.

Fat lot of good it did. He’s dead. And for what? Black diamonds?

You know better than that. Sure, he hoped to hit it rich. So does everyone headin’ to Mars. It’s the new Gold Rush.

I’m doin’ fine here.

What? Bustin’ bail-jumpers? You’re an engineer, fer Chri’s sake. An astronaut, and an expert pilot. You should be out there leading the charge and guiding the best of humanity towards the stars. Not getting shot at and beat up because scumbags duck out of their court appearances.

Hard to argue with that. I let the door swing open and stepped back.

Coffee?

Black.

Memories. Harchand and I were best friends in college. We both became astronauts for the U.S. Space Force. The ‘Agency’.

The fusion-powered ships we flew were sweet. Under max thrust, we could make a trip to Mars in just over two weeks. A bit cramped but…

The Coffee?

I grunted and dug out some pods. French Roast for Dave. Serve him right for waking me.

The smell of brewing coffee cleared away the rest of the cobwebs.

Dave filled me in on the latest news from Mars. The diamond mining is nearly funding for the whole setup there. The Chinese set up on the other side of Olympus Mons, hoping to find the same luck we’ve had. Europe’s struggling to put a coalition together so they can fund a stake too.

Then someone found those damned mushrooms.

Old news.

The American consortium found the entrance to a lava tube while exploring Olympus Mons. An entire network of lava tubes. Those damned pink mushrooms growing in hidden niches of the lava tubes were the only native life found on Mars. So far.

They were edible. A side-effect of their spicy, alien taste was a mild euphoria. Harmless.

The Agency wanted samples. The colony shipped freeze-dried specimens. Upon opening the package, the mushrooms crumbled to powder. A tech accidentally inhaled some of the powder and assaulted his co-workers.

Mars authorities destroyed all known patches of the fungus. However, someone found other patches and cultivated them. Trade in Dust was the bane of the colony’s existence. At ten thousand dollars a gram, Dust became the new cocaine.

Dave set his mug down. You awake enough to be reasonable?

No. I ran a hand over my razor stubble.

Mato, look…

Matt. Call me Matt.

Mato’s your name.

My Tribal name, Dave. I prefer Matt.

What does ‘Mato’ mean, anyway?

Bear.

Your call-sign?

Use Matt.

Okay, okay, Matt.

The Agency… we, need you to bring down the Cartel. They’re getting out of hand. The people on Mars are engineers, techs, mechanics and scientists. Not law enforcement.

I’m no cop, Dave. I’m a bounty hunter.

That’s what we need. Someone that isn’t shy about kicking ass and taking names.

Still not interested.

Dave paused before replying. I don’t get you, Matt. You once cared to be the very best the Agency had. You and Harry were the gold standard. The living examples. People wanted to be like you and him. To be part of a team that mattered. The two of you pushed the envelope out to the asteroid belt and to Europa. Mars might have failed entirely if you two hadn’t flown that emergency mission when the virus hit. Even the Chinese awarded you a medal for saving their colony.

I clasped the half-empty mug and stared into its depths. The hell of it was, I had cared. A lot. The shit storm that happened after Leon died servicing the James Webb Telescope destroyed my enthusiasm.

Leon had just disconnected the fueling hose and stowed it. As he headed back to the sally-port, his EVA suit’s thrusters malfunctioned. He couldn’t shut them off. They flew him into the side of the shuttle, then sent him cartwheeling into deep space. By the time Harry had suited up, Leon was too far away. I wanted to move the shuttle closer, but his trajectory would have put us beyond recovery. We listened as Leon recorded a message to his wife and son, then opened his faceplate.

We need you Matt. He slid an envelope across the counter. Here are your orders. Stop at Canaveral’s base hospital for your physical, then the simulator for a refresher. Your shuttle’s waiting for you. Your flight’s listed as a resupply run, with two engineers and a mechanic as passengers. You will have an assumed name to avoid any trouble over the past.

I glared at Dave, but he ignored it, got up, patted me on the shoulder, and let himself out. I threw my mug at the wall. I’d clean up the mess later. Maybe.

Chapter 3. Canaveral

I checked into the BOQ at Canaveral using my assumed name. The fake ID worked.

The doctor clucked over the various scars my body showcased. What’d the other guys look like?

Nobody knows, for some of them.

He shut up.

Rango escorted me to suit refurb. The techs had replaced