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No Nukes For Mars
No Nukes For Mars
No Nukes For Mars
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No Nukes For Mars

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Angela, a university student and social activist, is trying to start a protest group to stop the spread of nuclear weapons to the planet Mars before it becomes colonized. Meanwhile, a strangely-dressed man and woman are stalking her. Who are they? Where do they come from? What do they want?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 10, 2011
ISBN9781458102621
No Nukes For Mars
Author

Tony Sakalauskas

Tony is a 56 year-old writer from Halifax, Canada.

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    No Nukes For Mars - Tony Sakalauskas

    NO NUKES FOR MARS

    By

    Tony Sakalauskas

    SMASHWORDS EDITION

    *****

    PUBLISHED BY:

    Tony Sakalauskas on Smashwords

    No Nukes For Mars

    Copyright 2011 by Tony Sakalauskas

    Smashwords Edition License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

    This eBook was formatted by The Mad Formatter.

    TheMadFormatter dot com

    *****

    Chapter One

    The train clinkered on towards its destination, the city of Halifax, on the East Coast of

    Canada. One of its passengers was a twenty-year-old man named Jason MacLean. He had brown hair; long at the sides and back, but short at the front; not as dark as his matching corduroy jacket and pants, not as light as his tan shirt, but as brown as his eyes. He was alone in the bar car drinking a beer and reading a book on Napoleon Bonaparte when a bearded young man, in a red plaid shirt and blue jeans and with a beer in his hand, sat down at his table across from him and interrupted his solitude.

    I see you’re reading a book on Napoleon, he said. I knew Napoleon. I served in his army in one of my past lives.

    ‘Oh, oh,’ thought Jason, ‘oh, oh.’

    I was a corporal in Napoleon’s army and the few times that I saw him he always had his right hand in his coat. I asked my sergeant why Napoleon always had his hand in his coat. And you know what he told me?

    The bearded man never gave Jason a chance to answer, he just continued on.

    He told me that Napoleon had a hook for a hand.

    A what? asked Jason.

    You know, a hook, he said as he took a swig of beer. The kind worn by Captain Hook in that Peter Pan movie. The sergeant told me that Napoleon lost his right hand while fighting in Egypt. And because he was self-conscious of it, he always hid it so that others couldn’t see it.

    I saw Napoleon about half a dozen times and I always hoped that he would take his hand out of his coat so that I could see the hook. But he always kept his hand in his coat and I always wondered what that hook looked like. The sergeant said he saw it and said that it was made of silver and very shiny.

    I died forty years after the Napoleonic Wars, and all that time I believed that Napoleon had a hooked hand. I told people that he had a hook for a hand and nobody believed me; they thought I was crazy. I went to my grave believing it to be true and it wasn’t until I was reincarnated again that I found out it was a lie.

    When I was a soldier I wondered what it was like for Napoleon to wear that thing. One time I saw him get all excited and he was on his white horse and he galloped away really fast. I said to myself ‘Boy, he better watch himself, if he forgets about that hook and accidentally sticks it into his stomach he could rip his guts out.

    Although Jason had not finished drinking his beer he left it behind as he got up to leave.

    Are you leaving already? asked the bearded man.

    You betcha, said Jason.

    ‘If there’s one thing I hate,’ thought Jason, ‘it’s meeting people who are psycho.’

    When Jason returned to his original place he sat down and stared through the double-paned closed windows next to him. So transfixed was he by the scenery, it seemed that the train was standing still and that the outside world was rushing past him. Up ahead the town of Truro was beginning to show itself, looking like it was approaching the train rather then the other way around.

    He thought about the last time he was on this train to Truro, a year and a half ago at Easter time. He looked at the same sights he had looked at before: the houses and buildings scattered sporadically along the route, and the weather-beaten telephone poles with their black telephone lines that connected them all.

    He heard the familiar sounds that he had heard before: the clanking of the train as it rolled along, the chatter of people sitting together and the rustling of newspapers and magazines from people sitting alone. He breathed and smelled the stale air that was like the stale air on the last trip. But his hand felt differently this time as it lay in the next seat unopened, not like the last time when it lay on her lap in her hand.

    'I hope that by going away to university it will help me to forget her, to put it behind me once and for all,' he thought. 'How ironic it seems, I go away to forget about Mary, but as soon as I see Truro, I remember her more than ever. The weekend we spent with her relations there, the fun we had, all sorts of fun.'

    The train slowed down and rolled into the station on one of the many tracks that stretched out from it. 'I've got to stop thinking about Mary, I've got to put her out of my mind once and for all.'

    Some passengers were now getting off, ending their journey, while other passengers were getting on, beginning their journey. Two of these new passengers were young women bound for Halifax.

    They edged their way down the aisle past other people as they looked for their place to fit in. They made their way past the full seats to the three empty ones that half surrounded Jason.

    The dark-hair girl was the first to get there and claimed the seat next to him. The other girl, with a head of hair full of blonde-dye, chose a place directly across from him.

    With Jason's help they put their suitcases on the rack above, but only the dark-hair girl thanked him. A few seconds later the blonde-hair girl spoke: Can I change seats with you? she asked the young man. I like to be looking forward when I travel.

    Sure, sure, no problem, he quickly said as he moved to his new location.

    When the train exited the station Jason’s eyes darted from one girl to the other. ‘That blonde is gorgeous and that other one is not too bad either.’

    The blonde-hair girl had an expensive wristwatch that circled her wrist, rings that circled most of her fingers and a gold necklace that circled her throat. She also wore a look of anger that made it appear that her face was permanently etched in bitterness and hostility. The dark-hair girl wore a slight smile that made it appear that her face was more beautiful than it really was.

    The blonde-hair girl was busy beautifying her fingernails, filing and then coloring them to a bright shade of blood red. Long sharp fingernails; almost sharp enough to cut something or someone. The dark-hair girl had her hands outstretched; wide open hands that looked as if they had never been clenched in anger. In those hands she held a magazine that she was reading. A couple of times her eyes left the magazine to gaze out the window and think about what she had just read. Her green eyes looked upon the green pine trees as they sped by the train.

    Finally, Jason got up the courage to speak:

    Nice weather isn’t it? He asked the blonde-hair girl.

    Yeah, it’s all right if you like nice weather, she said sarcastically as she looked away from him.

    The dark-hair girl looked up from her magazine, gave the young man a pleasant smile and spoke: Yes it is nice weather, and I hear it’s going to be the same in Halifax too.

    What are you reading? He asked her.

    An article about 'Star Wars'.

    Oh yeah, the movie, he said.

    No, she said, it’s about weapons in space.

    Oh, he replied. The blonde-hair giggled and shook her head a little.

    The dark-hair girl sensed that the guy needed a conversation as much as he wanted one and put her magazine aside and began to converse with him.

    In the course of the conversation that followed the dark-hair girl, whose name was Angela Langley, discovered that she had something in common with Jason; they were both on their way to the University of Nova Scotia in Halifax to major in astronomy in the hope of becoming astronomers someday. The blonde-hair girl, whose name was Helen Collier, was also going to the University of Nova Scotia; but she hadn’t decided what to major in yet.

    Jason, said Angela. Did you know that Nova Scotia University has one of the best Astronomy departments in the country? The head of it is Doctor James Tompkins. Have you heard of him? Tompkins wants to ban nuclear weapons from the planet Mars before it becomes colonized

    I thought we already had a treaty that banned weapons of mass destruction in outer space, said Jason.

    We have, said Angela. It's called 'The Outer Space Treaty' and it was ratified by the major powers back in 1967. Under that treaty no country could orbit weapons around Earth or place them on any of the moons or planets in the Solar System.

    Then what's the problem? asked Helen as she put the top back on the nail polish bottle, screwed it tight and then dropped it into her purse next to her and snapped it shut.

    If nuclear weapons are already banned in space, then what is Tompkins trying to do?

    Apparently there is a loophole, said Angela. And that loophole is 'Star Wars', the use of military satellites that the Americans say is for peaceful purposes only. After the Americans signed an agreement stating that they will never place weapons in outer space, they go around and break this treaty.

    Well, if the Americans did something like that, said Helen, I'm sure they had a good reason.

    They have a reason alright, but it's not a good one, it's a bad one; they want to increase their military presence in outer space. And that could start an arms race in outer space with the Russians or the Chinese.

    How do you know that the Russians or the Chinese aren't doing this already? asked Helen.

    I think it would be kind of hard to hide military satellites floating over our heads, said Angela as she looked at Helen, then at Jason, then back at Helen again.

    And this arms race could spread to Mars. We need a new treaty, with no loopholes, that can't be broken and put into place before the colonization of Mars begins.

    I don’t believe Mars will be colonized in our lifetime, said Helen. It will be a long time before they ever do that. And even if they do get to Mars and colonize it soon, we’re not going to be able to stop the Americans or the Chinese or anyone else from taking their nuclear weapons there.

    I disagree with you, said Angela as she removed the magazine from her lap and shoved it into the handbag next to her, all the while never taking her eyes off Helen as she did so.

    We can stop the spread of nuclear weapons to that planet. We can get the major powers to come to an agreement on this. In the past they have come to agreements on nuclear-free zones.

    They have? asked Helen, where?

    In the Antarctic

    The Antarctic! What about the Antarctic?" asked Helen as she straightened herself in her seat.

    Angela explained to Helen about how the major powers came to an agreement to make Antarctica a nuclear-free zone, and how this could set a precedent for a similar agreement with regards to Mars. Helen disagreed with her, citing the mistrust between the major powers as the reason why.

    We can get them to trust each other, said Angela.

    "Like I said they have come to agreements limiting nuclear weapons in the past and I can see no reason why they can’t do it in the future with regards to Mars. After all, it’s in their best interests to do so. No one wants to see what’s happening here to happen to our future colonists on Mars. No one wants to see our descendants on Mars living under the same threat of nuclear war that we’ve lived under since World War Two. To always wonder whether or not nuclear bombs are going to be dropped at any moment somewhere in the world. Wouldn’t you want to build for them

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