Free Sebastian of Mars by Al Sarrantonio

gasped.
    “I don’t believe it,” I whispered to myself
in awe.
    Below me, on a cavern floor vaster than
anything I had seen within Olympus Mons, was a sea of bright
machines unlike any I had ever seen. There were so many, of so many
different shapes – boxes of all sizes, and tubes and oblongs and
two giant orbs with rows of windows and a silver rectangle a half
block long and hundreds of others – that I could not comprehend
what I was seeing. My mind was overwhelmed.
    Forgetting the pain of the recent execution
of Rella, I was overcome by wonder, and turned to retrace my steps,
determined that I must find my way back and tell Thomas and the
others what I had found.
    But something was in my way, slightly smaller
than myself, and I got a glimpse of huge eyes and felt hot sour
breath on me before a long thin arm with a massive paw rose and
came down, and I saw instant blackness.
     

Twelve
    I awoke with a
headache, and in darkness. I could hear someone rustling close-by,
and again felt that wash of hot, sour breath move across my
face.
    In the dimness, I saw two saucer-shaped eyes
regarding me. They blinked, a very slow process, and then there was
a sound, like a brushing, hoarse whisper.
    “Foood?”
    I shook my head no, and the sour breath and
massive eyes retreated a foot. I tried to sit up, and groaned.
    On the back of my head was a lump the width
of three fingers.
    Again the figure asked: “Fooood?”
    “No!” I shouted, and was surprised to hear my
voice give a clanging echo. I lowered my tone. “No, I don’t want
any food, you fool.”
    “Foood?” the figure asked again.
    My eyes had adjusted to the dimness now, and
I saw that we were encased in a metal ball, perhaps one of the
structures I had seen on the floor of the cavern.
    “Why is it so dark in here?” I asked testily,
and my companion gave a little hiss and stepped farther back away
from me.
    “Niiiiight,” he said.
    “Oh.” I looked up and saw a dark row of
windows which encircled the ball.
    “Foood?” he asked again, which provoked me to
anger.
    “I told you –”
    “Have fooood?”
    My anger drained. I suddenly realized that he
had been asking me if I had any food – not if I wanted any.
    “No, I don’t have any food.” Again I tried to
sit up, pushing myself back against the curve of the structure. My
head did not hurt quite so much, and I rested the un-bumped side
against the metal behind me.
    “Why are you hungry?” I asked. “How do you
normally eat?”
    “Fishhh,” he responded immediately. “But no
catch, today.” He pointed to me, and rasped out something like a
laugh. “Catch youuuuu instead.”
    For a moment a chill went through me, as
those giant eyes once again blinked slowly.
    “Surely you don’t mean to eat me,” I said,
giving a short laugh.
    Again the eyes blinked, which seemed to take
an eternity.
    “Do you know who I am?” I asked.
    He pointed up – and again I saw how large his
paws were in proportion to his body. “Topper.”
    “Are you a Baldie?” I asked, abruptly
realizing that I might be dealing with an offshoot of that crazy
clan.
    He hissed, jumping back, his mouth going
impossibly wide. His eyes flashed amber in the dimness. I saw claws
that must have been two inches in length emerge from his thin, long
fingers.
    He continued to hiss, looking from left to
right.
    “ Hate Baldies,” he spat.
    “All right, then, you’re not a Baldie. What
are you, then?”
    “Downer,” he said, his hiss petering out into
what sounded like pride.
    “Is that a clan?” I asked. I had never once
heard the word.
    “Not a clan – we! ” He stood and
pounded on his thin chest.
    “Where do you live?” I asked.
    He spread his arms out – and I suddenly
realized that I may have discovered an entirely new clan, if not
race of felines, that had never been seen before, who lived in the
bowels of Mount Olympus.
    Newton would be more than proud of me.
    I banged on the side of the curving metal
behind me and