Martian Blues: Second in the Martian Symbiont Series

By Phyllis K. Twombly

After thousands of years away from Earth, an advanced group of men have returned, forever changed for the better. In this continuation of the Martian Symbiont series, the men rediscover family and find friendship. Each man has evolved to include a symbiont-a telepathic entity swimming through his circulatory system, keeping him peaceful, healthy, and empathetic. Now, twenty years later, 92 percent of Earth's population has a symbiont, as men married and had children with human women. But will peace remain?

An inscrutable, yet hostile alien species is about to invade Earth's tranquility, shattering that peace. The small minority of nonsymbiont humans are skeptical, believing the invasion is a way to frighten people into submission. When they further learn that a nonhuman, non-Martian alien has been living among them disguised as a human for twenty years, the tension thickens.

This one unique being, Lyle, has the knowledge and benevolence to save the planet from ruin. Assuming his natural form, he joins the effort to stop the aliens. Although he has struggled to find his place in the human/Martian world, he will soon discover what his purpose is and how he must achieve it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 11, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595913329

Phyllis K. Twombly

Phyllis K. Twombly wrote her first science fiction story in grade one, barely five years after man walked on the moon. Once computer shy, she wrote the entire Been Blued novel on a pocket computer with a foldable keyboard. She currently resides in the northern village of Pouce Coupe, BC.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Lyle Andrews tossed and turned in his bed. His muscular hands twisted and ripped the navy blankets to expose his bare chest. His long, curly blond hair was disheveled. He writhed from side to side. His pale, blue eyes blinked opened. No, he moaned as they closed again and his mind returned him to the nightmare.

He brought his victim into a computer control room, and stood behind him. He had the fellow completely in his power. The man had betrayed him over something important, he was sure of it. He glared at the fellow’s balding head with malevolence. Jerod, his mind informed him. His victim’s name was Jerod.

Part of Lyle’s mind wondered why Jerod hadn’t simply fought him off. The man was short, but strong and fit. Something else was giving him an edge, but Lyle couldn’t remember what it was.

Jerod spoke. Coren, I think there’s something wrong with me.

Lyle pulled his right hand back. The force it required surprised him. A thick, bony spike from his own wrist emerged from the top of Jerod’s spinal column. It had a thin coating of blood. With a disgusted sneer, he released his left-handed grip on Jerod’s arm.

Jerod fell to the floor. Blood trickled from the slowly closing wound on the back of his neck. Lyle stepped over him.

Another balding man in a white lab coat looked up from the clipboard he was holding. His eyes widened with alarm.

Beside him, a very large man with a dark complexion stopped smiling. He started to pull his hands out of his suit pockets. He looked down at Jerod’s limp form on the floor. I thought you said his alien DNA had been eradicated, he whispered to the man in the lab coat.

It was. I don’t understand this at all. He should be more human than either of us.

Lyle smirked at them. It’s true. I am human. But I found the symbiont’s weakness. I’m surprised you didn’t catch me, with all your intelligence, Doctor. Reducing the number of symbionts in my system to one, that should have been your first clue. You’re pathetic. Like most humans, you only saw what you wanted to see. And just like a human, I reverted to my true nature when I realized I was being cheated.

The doctor tilted his head. So you say the symbionts have a weakness. We’d love to know what that is.

Lyle stormed towards him and grabbed his shoulders. With incredible strength, he lifted the doctor into the air and threw him to the floor. The clipboard skittered across the room.

"This isn’t about you. It’s about me!" Lyle roared.

The large, dark man stepped in front of him. That’s enough of that. He grabbed Lyle’s arms and yanked out the talon-like spikes growing from his wrists. Blood poured from the wounds.

Lyle howled in pain and fell to his knees.

A trim woman with a serious look on her face entered the room. She had sandy, blond hair and brown eyes. Through his pain, Lyle felt recognition. The Martian matriarch, his mind noted. She was his greatest enemy. It made him feel weaker.

She was talking, chastising the doctor, and giving him directions.

Through a haze of pain, Lyle struggled to make out what she was saying. The floor beneath him felt icy cold. His mind began to retreat into an inky blackness.

The woman gave the large man a nod. He picked Lyle up and carried him to a round platform several inches thick. Thin, opaque walls slid upwards from the floor, into place around the circle of the platform. Panic filled the last shreds of Lyle’s consciousness, but he was too weak to do anything.

The woman was saying something. He couldn’t hear her clearly through the barrier. Something inside him was telling him to trust her. He felt strange, like his life was about to be altered.

The dream changed. Lyle was now a nine year old boy, playing in the park with his new daddy. Two little girls were walking towards the park. Four men in black suits accompanied them. The girls were walking two big, white poodles.

The men took the dogs’ leashes. The girls came to talk to him while their guardians spoke with his dad.

The one girl whispered in his ear, something about aliens …

Lyle jerked himself awake. He yanked off his blankets. Aliens! he shouted. They’re coming! We have to defeat them! Bewilderment crossed his face. "But I’m an alien," he whispered. The thought caused his heart to race. He placed his hand over his bare chest. Instead of smooth skin rippling with muscles, he felt something rough. He looked down. In the twilight of morning, he could dimly see that his chest was covered with scales. Larger ones covered his abdomen. He fingered the top of his underwear, afraid to look inside.

I must still be dreaming, he gasped. I’ve got to wake up! He flicked the switch of the lamp on the bedside stand. The scales turned a dark blue.

Lyle jumped out of bed and tried to brush them off. No, he slurred. His mouth felt strange. He rolled his tongue over his teeth and nearly cut himself. He raced over to the mirror on the closet door. He pulled his lips back with his fingers, fingers that were now forming claws instead of fingernails. There were fangs where regular teeth should be. Wide-eyed, he ran his tongue over them, carefully this time.

His alarm clock went off. Startled, Lyle screamed. The scales on his abdomen turned dark purple. He fainted.

CHAPTER 1

MARTIANS

Nick Zephyr, a six and a half foot tall, muscular man with brown eyes and wavy black hair, grabbed the white lab coat with his nametag as he entered the laboratory. Hey, everybody, he called out as he put the coat on. The lab rat has arrived. Let the animal testing begin. He walked past the tables full of test tubes, microscopes and computers, and hopped up onto an examining table. He lay back and crossed his arms over his chest as he closed his eyes. The sides of his lab coat draped over the edges of the table.

Three older brunette males glanced at the table he was on and shrugged. They turned back to their clipboards and resumed their discussion. An older, taller man with blond hair walked up to him and leaned forward. "When I asked to you to adjust your attitude yesterday, this is not what I had in mind."

Nick opened one eye to squint at him. What, exactly, did you have in mind, Dad? I’ve been Blued four times by four different women, all of whom promptly changed their minds. Why is my symbiont keeping me from finding a wife? Why can’t I use it to heal simple little cuts and bruises on my own body? Why the Hell can’t I hear your thoughts or anyone else’s? Are you sure I even have a symbiont?

I told you, while we’re onboard this ship, you call me Dr. Athens, like everyone else. If you didn’t have the symbiont, you wouldn’t have any of these red swirls in your skin. You couldn’t have been Blued, not even once. As for the rest of it, you know we’re trying to help you.

Nick sat up with both eyes open and turned towards him. "Oh, really? Then you’re not trying very hard, because everyone is so scared of making all the sym-bionts semi-dormant again. You kept me in a white room here onboard the command ship most of my adult life. Has it ever occurred to you that I might want to step outside and see what Earth is like? It’s my home, too. I have even more claim

to this planet we’re on than you do because my mother was human, not Mar»

tian."

Dr. Athens winced. Your mother was taken from us before her time, an awful tragedy. Red swirls rippled through his face. Besides, stepping outside right now would not be advisable. This ship is currently in orbit. He sighed with frustration. If you still want to go back to Earth when your symbiont is healthy, we’ll have the humans take you back. I know how much your mother loved this planet.

Nick placed the back of his hand against his father’s cheek. He calmed down as red swirls appeared in his palm. There, now. I can feel the pain of your memories over losing Mom. I suppose that’s something, anyway. He started to pull his hand away.

Dr. Athens grabbed his wrist and held his hand in place. You’re right. There is something, I can feel it too. Quick, Son, think of something you feel strongly about.

Nick thought about the four women who had Blued him.

Dr. Athens’ eyes opened wide. Look, if you wanted to stay single for a while, you should have just said so.

How could I? Everybody around me is so family-oriented, to want to remain single would have been just plain selfish.

Dr. Athens began to smile. No wonder those ladies all rejected you. The symbiont seems to be the biggest advocate of free will out of all of us. When you were embarrassed by your situation, your symbiont shielded your thoughts from everyone else. He let go of Nick’s wrist and took a few steps back. Can you hear me now?

Nick squinted as thoughts, images and emotions flooded his mind. Do you think you could slow it down a bit? I’m not used to this.

Sorry, I guess I got excited. It looks like I was able to help you after all.

Nick nodded. Now that we know I’m okay, I’d like to get back down there and explore Earth some more. I only had eight months last time.

Dr. Athens smiled. You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear something like that.

Nick smiled back. Yes, I do. But tell me, why can’t we communicate directly with the symbionts? They are a part of us; they swim through our circulatory systems, generally keep us healthy, and allow us some telepathy. So why can’t we communicate more fully with them, ask them directly when something’s bothering them and other stuff?

That’s an interesting question. Especially when you consider how responsive they are to appearing in any part of the body we want.

Nick felt warmth in his chest. I’d forgotten how good a happy symbiont feels. I think the next time a woman Blues me, it will be for good.

Why do you say that?

Because next time it’ll be for love, and not just because the Martian community wants a bigger family.

Actually, it was Jerod’s insistence on the idea of a family, instead of just mates or stolen DNA, that helped get the ball rolling. He took to life on Earth far quicker than the rest of us. He was the first to have been Blued.

Nick looked around and lowered his voice. I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but can human males who have the symbiont get Blued?

Usually. Why do you ask?

I’ve been asked to head a research team to investigate a community of humans who haven’t developed the symbionts.

Dr. Athens stole a glance at the other researchers before asking his next question. They were busy with their own work. Who requested that research?

The Vice-President asked for it. He frowned. I have a feeling I may have just given away a state secret that you weren’t supposed to be privy to.

Don’t worry, the others didn’t even notice. As for me, I’m concerned about any human curiosity concerning the symbionts that excludes us.

I think that’s why they asked me, they must have assumed my symbiont’s lack of telepathy would preclude Martian discovery. They must have assumed there was no ‘cure.’

After nearly two decades, especially with achieving world peace, you’d think the humans would have learned to trust us. I’ve sent the information to Coren telepathically; he’s considering an appropriate response. Can you hear his thoughts?

Nick nodded. And Jerod just weighed in. He’s alerting the matriarch. He chuckled. It looks like my orders have been amended.

Dr. Athens bit his lip in an attempt to keep from laughing. The matriarch has never been able to tolerate open human defiance. She always seems to be a few steps ahead of everyone, balancing human freedom against Martian responsibilities.

No wonder she Blued Jerod. He’s got that same kind of foresight.

He once had us do a compatibility study on the two of them. It’s as if they’re two halves of the same whole.

And I bet she predicted those results exactly.

No. It turned out she didn’t know anything about it. Let’s just say she wasn’t happy about the study being done without her permission. That sanctioning was the most severe I’ve ever seen. Being her husband sure didn’t spare Jerod one bit. Dr. Athens frowned and sent Nick a memory.

Nick’s eyes bugged out. Wow. I guess sanctioning should be avoided at all costs.

That is part of its purpose.

So, how should I start finding the subversive humans?

Dr. Athens tilted his head and scowled. That’s just it. They might not be subversive at all. Don’t assume anything. Your report will be much more accurate if you keep an open mind. You could start at the library, since people without symbionts have to rely on books more than we do. We’ll prepare a cover story about you being a student.

Nick chewed his lip. Will I have to attend courses?

That depends. What do you know about psychology?

Human or Martian?

Both.

* * * *

Mr. Andrews, an older, athletic man with very light blond hair, had the feeling something was wrong. He retrieved a candy from his gray suit pocket and popped it in his mouth. His symbiont had been disturbed all day, sending red swirls throughout his face, neck and hands. His stomach felt strangely unsettled in a way he’d nearly forgotten about.

The flight from Springfield had been uneventful, even relaxing. He hadn’t eaten anything; his stomach had been queasy even before boarding. Maybe he was just hungry.

His green eyes watched the luggage coming around on the carousel. The plane had been nearly full. He doubted his bags would be among the first ones to emerge.

Two tall men in black suits and dark sunglasses came up beside him. The blond one put a hand on his shoulder. The redhead fingered his revolver in its holster.

I’m Tom Ravell, Mr. Andrews. Please come with us. There’s been an incident involving your son, Lyle. Just leave your luggage, airport security will see to it. We need you to come right now.

Of course. What happened to Lyle? Is he okay?

It looks like his true nature is starting to emerge. First, he destroyed his own apartment this morning. Then he returned to your house. Apparently, one room in particular is quite a mess. We can’t give you any further details until we’re in the car. This is a matter involving Martianville Security.

Earth based security?

No.

Mr. Andrews felt weak. Tom placed the back of his hand against the older man’s cheek. Red swirls circled in their skin around the point of contact.

Don’t worry, Tom said. The matriarch wants to preserve Lyle just as much as you do. Remember, she personally approved of you and your wife to raise him. For all we know, he could be the last of his species.

Mr. Andrews followed him out to the black limousine. He sighed. I’m sort of glad Ellen passed away before we had to deal with this. Her dying wish was that I’d always be there for him, no matter what.

The man Lyle had attacked in his dream was waiting inside the limo. He patted Mr. Andrews on the shoulder. Boys will be boys, Seth. In Lyle’s case, we’re still learning what’s normal for him.

Mr. Andrews tilted his head. Should I know you, Sir?

The man held out his hand. I’m Jerod Ravell, the husband to the Martian matriarch. I wanted to reassure you that I have completely forgiven Lyle for his attack. He didn’t know what he was doing back then. Besides, I’m a father, too. I’d like to say I know what you’re going through, but right now your son is completely unpredictable. You must be terrified for him.

Mr. Andrew’s eyes filled with tears as he shook hands. When they told us he was a special-needs child, we thought maybe he was handicapped. He was so gentle and loving. That little angel we fell in love with back then can’t possibly turn bad at this point. Can he?

I’m sorry. I can’t give you any guarantees. I can promise you that he isn’t part of the hostile alien community that’s coming back to invade Earth. Part of the reason we asked you to raise him as a human was so people could see he’s just an orphan, not some horrible monster.

What will happen to him now?

Now he’ll become whatever his true nature dictates. Try not to worry; I have every faith in Lyle, whatever he turns out to be.

"But he attacked you."

Jerod sighed. That was nearly twenty years ago. I’ve gotten over it. Why can’t everyone else?

Mr. Andrews collapsed against him. Jerod patted the man’s heaving shoulders, a sympathetic smile on his face.

CHAPTER 2

LYLE 2.0

Kelly Ravell’s long fingers curled around the knocker of the ornate door of an upper class house. Its outside walls were beige, with green trim around the windows and doorframes. A large marble stone on the front lawn bore the name, ‘Andrews.’

Kelly’s big brown eyes revealed a patient woman, but a determined one. She ran her hand through her shoulder length sandy hair. Smile lines crinkled ever so slightly around the edges of her mouth. Red swirls looped through the surface of the skin on her face and neck.

Seth Andrews opened the door. His eyes had clouded over with concern. He shoulders sagged, and his arms hung limp at his sides. His voice betrayed deep sorrow.

Come in, Matriarch. Lyle is in the basement. He’s been sedated, just as you requested. They tell me it had little effect, so Martianville Security has him under guard. I’ll show you where he had his last rampage. He led her past a living room filled with electronic equipment and up a flight of stairs. He gripped the railing tightly.

A bedroom door bore a silver nameplate that read ‘Lyle.’ The green wood was splintered in places. The brass doorknob dangled to one side. A simple push opened the door.

Inside,