-PARIA-

-Chapter One-
-What Lies Beneath-

Almond shaped eyes were clenched tightly shut, fine whiskers and small ears were pressed against thick fur, sensitive paws prone to cold were tucked between cheek and chest as their owner curled up unto a small ball. Thick fur shielded the creature from the coldness of the air, its tail curled tightly around it, the tip tightening around a fragment of its nest pulling the material ever tighter to stave off the cold trying to trespass into its small shelter. It was the middle of winter and the little water that surrounded its nest had turned into ice, sharp stalactites, a mix between water and oily residue of cave walls had dripped down concealing the entrance to its shelter and keeping it safe from any predators that still stalked the dark, icy caverns. This situation would not look out of place in a documentary, but this was no ordinary mouse and it was not an ordinary environment.

At 49,000,000 million miles from Earth, the last place humans expected life to exist is on the bone dry, icy world of Mars. And yet deep within the caverns dwelt the surviving denizens of Mars, clinging to small pools of water and using the cracks and crevices of caves to shelter from the awful weather that tormented the surface. Down here the dust storms could not reach them, but the cold could. With a thinner atmosphere, warmth was a luxury and the denizens gathered in number, using each other as thermal blankets and taking turns to be at the centre of the huddles.

But alone and trapped, the small mouse could not have this security, instead he used his natural physique. Curling up to keep the warmth in, pressing any fragile limb inwards to stop any warmth escaping. His most defenceless areas were his paws, tail and face and so he used the materials he'd built his shelter with as an impromptu blanket, keeping the worst of the cold air off his most vital features. It was fortunate that he was a rare long-haired mouse, it meant he did not struggle to keep warm as much as other mice in his territory.

But the one thing that gave him an advantage was actually not his physiology but what he possessed because this was no ordinary mouse. His clothing, a thick leather and denim made from the finest pelts insulated his thick fur and kept him warm enough that the creature allowed himself to fall into a dormant state, slowing his heart-rate so his body didn't use too much invaluable energy during the coldest nights of winter.

But he had one additional and irreplaceable sense.

He could feel the minds of others. His antenna, currently curled close to his head to keep them warm, were able to sense changes in the air and could 'feel' the presence of other life-forms. He himself was dormant, but his antenna never switched off, they carried data to his brain keeping him aware of his environment even in the deepest of sleep.

At times a large flash of red had his antenna tensing and rising from the protective fur, but they soon settled down back inside his thick hair. Other times tendrils of red, with yellow circular pads tested the edge of his shelter, drawn by the faint warmth of his body, these times he would half awake, slowly raising bleary eyes to watch the threat and each time the thing retreated leaving his shelter untouched and safe. A loud splash jolted him awake but after a few moments of listening to silence he settled back down, slowly returning to his dormant state.

175 days passed; the winter chill warmed from a freezing -140˚C to a more tolerable -50˚C. But even this change took much of the spring, in the end the mouse had lost over 300 days of his year sheltering in his secluded alcove. But the wait was rewarded as his chosen shelter was above a huge pool of water. Life giving liquid gave energy to plants and bacteria and as winter thawed to spring life began to return.

His skin and fur warmed, he allowed his limbs to fall limp, the air warm enough he no longer had to press them close to his body. The small drops of ice frozen to his fur melted and evaporated as his body heat rose. The icy stalactites began to melt and vanish slowly exposing his shelter. He could finally awaken, to move and think. But his first thought was food and the empty cave was now full of life, plants and small animals giving him a precious source of energy. He ate well, feasting for several days to regain his strength. Finally, after more than 300 days after he had entered his shelter, he left the cave that had been his home for almost two seasons.

It was an absolute miracle that a pup that was so young had managed to survive the coldest season on Mars, but this was no ordinary pup. Throttle Thylek had spent much of his time in the mountains and caverns that surrounded his birth place. He had spent so many seasons learning how to survive and thrive, his acquired knowledge not gained through the teaching of an elder but through his own personal experience. An example of his cunning was the fact he'd chosen a deep and rare pool of water to sleep above, a pool deep within the territory of a Sabre-Tooth Squid, it was cunning because it meant whoever dared tried to follow and harm him would first have to avoid and combat a creature that could grow up to one-hundred foot, easily. The one guarding the pool was an experienced male, easily eighty-seven foot in length, no one with any sense would stray anywhere near such a territorial and aggressive beast.

Which meant that the beast would quickly turn away and even kill those who dared pursue Throttle. The only reason Throttle still breathed was because he was small and had timed his arrival just so, waiting until the Sabre was away from his den to find a female or food before he dared venture in to find a small cavern that Throttle had called home for at least two seasons. Hopefully those two seasons passing meant that anyone seeking him had long since given him up for dead.

But, regardless of his future, one thing was clear, his past may be able to forget about him but he doubted that he'd be able to forget his past. 'Apparently, it takes years to take the courage to move on and leave my tormenters behind, but it only took days for them to forget me.'He tried to pretend that thought didn't hurt.

He carried few things on him, his clothes and a worn pack full of scraps and items he'd scavenged through his journeys through the cavern. Living, albeit temporarily, in a Sabre-Tooth den meant that as long as he was careful Throttle had first pick of some of the rarest and valuable items available. Sabre-Tooth skin was a highly sought-after product as it was one of the strongest natural materials that grew naturally on Mars. What was not so rare, but incredibly hard to get hold off was one of the Sabre's incredibly dangerous claws, the Squid had evolved sharp daggers around each of its sucker pads to increase the strength of its grip and prevent prey getting away, when these were damaged or old, they drop to the floor and are eventually replaced. Each sucker pad had hundreds of these small, but sharp and deadly claws and while they were small compared to the beast in question, some were as long as swords but most made exquisite daggers. Throttle had quite a collection but he favoured one, a narrow, razor-sharp claw, one which had been damaged at its root and had been dropped before it had blunted and become useless to the Squid. But it was not useless to Throttle, who used it as an extension of his hand to kill and prepare prey and to cut away any fragile obstacles in his path. As such it was always at his hip, tucked into his belt as he began his attempt to sneak away from the beast's lair.

The beast in question was motionless, lying deep in the rare pool of water, a few large tentacles lay on the floor around the cavern as the creature basked and had its fill of water. Throttle stared at the water longingly for a few moments, but knew better than to approach and take any of the rare, life-giving fluid whilst the apex predator was present. Besides, he had two flasks of the precious water in his bag and he'd filled his internal fluid pouch with as much water as he could carry since he doubted that he would find any more pools like this in his journeys.

The beast did rise above the water long enough to survey the cavern with a hungry gaze, but its golden eyes noted nothing, Throttle was too small and cool to be noticed easily and the beast too comfortable in its pool to venture out and hunt. Eventually hunger would drive the beast from its den but Throttle planned to be long gone before that happened.

Throttle slipped through a small crack in the wall and into a hidden cave system and began to walk with only his antenna to guide him. He used his antenna to sense the cavern walls, to track, hunt and if need be avoiding the small rodents that called these dark, secret tunnels their home. He hunted only when he needed to, taking the small and the weak to fuel him as he sought his next place of safety. He was aware that even though he knew these caves well, it would be easy to get lost if he got too focused with hunting.

Travelling in darkness meant having no means to calculate time, day and night were the same, dark and cold and there was no real change to the caves in terms of life, other than a rare rodent the caves were barren and lifeless. In the pitch-black tunnels, it was hard to know which way was up, which was disorientating at times when he took a step and did not expect to feel ground. Still, if he was blind and disorientated by the darkness many other predators would also be slowed by the darkness giving Throttle an invaluable head-start if he did bump into trouble. Although he was small and not worthy of the attention of larger predators there were many smaller and often more vicious creatures that would happily hunt a cub, and since food was scarce these predators would hunt him endlessly for the meat on his bones and the blood in his veins.

But Throttle had one advantage that few others shared. His telepathy was uncommonly sensitive and powerful. It gave him the ability to see more than many others, to anticipate what was coming. It was why he was able to efficiently plan his escape and time his entry into the Sabre-Tooth's lair. Well, that and his size. Even at full growth Throttle was unlikely to be tall, with the exception of his father most of his kin grew to a mere six foot. His father told him that it was because of their life style, living deep underground in small, reclusive tunnels and communities meant his people's growth had been severely stunted. Most other mice species grew over six-foot, one sub-race was supposedly able to grow to seven foot, as tall as a rat, but Throttle wasn't sure he believed his father's fantastical stories.

Throttle still found it hard to believe that mice could live in massive cities, it was surely dangerous to gather in large communities as it would draw attention from predators and dangerous other groups, like the rats. Anyone with common sense would know to stay in small communities and to gather in secure locations, such as the deepest, smallest tunnels available where no large predator could reach. Throttle's people were skilled climbers, who lived in natural crevices in cavern walls. His people would find small, or secure caverns as deep as they could go into the surface before it got too hot or dangerous due to pressure, lava and also to avoid the deepest tunnels where dangerous predators dwelled. To avoid unwanted attention, they would spread themselves into small communities or neighbourhoods and negotiate trade and key information via highly trained scouts.

Throttle's father told his people other mice had found a way to talk without having to be face to face. That they could talk into things he called machines to spread information. It seemed a strange concept, why would one want to talk to an inanimate object and not another mouse. The extent of their technology was weaponry and tools, their weapons consisted of crossbows, small weapons his father called a pistol, swords, daggers and scouts carried rare weapons that his father called rifles (these incredible rare and sought-after weapons helped scouts eliminate threats from afar). His people also possessed a highly advanced understanding of tunnelling, building and crafting, his people could establish productive and efficient worksites within a newly-found caverns, these worksites could produce liveable and safe homes within a day. His people may be reclusive and extremely suspicious of outsiders but they were incredibly calm and focused workers.

Of course, Throttle did not have that support now. His family and clan had been lost long ago and now Throttle could only rely upon himself. He had become quite efficient at recognising and knowing dangers. He hunted only solitary animals, small ones that could be herded into pre-set traps and slept as high off the cavern floors as possible, napping on outcrops of stone and small crevices. His intuition and experience meant he had so far avoided the worst predators and on occasion foreign clans. The moment he heard voices or words he did not recognise he would retreat into smaller tunnels and crevices, avoiding contact with dangerous strangers.

He remembered the last time he'd been close to another race of humanoid Martians. He walked out of a tunnel and into light. And it had not been bioluminescent light produced by bacteria, plants and animals, instead it had been a distant, dim light, far unlike any light he'd grown up around. The cave system he'd expected was gone, instead there were strange mixes of brown, silver and grey rock. The roof of Throttle's home, his safety net had collapsed in exposing the surface to his young eyes. He had felt a quake some time previously, but he'd thought it just that: a quake. It seemed he was wrong and something had collided with the surface, perhaps the stones from space that his father told him about: meteors or comets his father had called them. Even miles up, the sky was bright and strange, alien to a creature that had spent his life in caves. It frightened and fascinated him and for a few moments he stood motionless on his small platform staring up at what he knew was the sky. It was dangerous and foolish; at any moment a predator or enemy could take advantage of his lack of focus. But eventually he did turn his focus back to the debris and he'd been even more fascinated by the clearly un-natural items within the stone. It looked like some of the stone was carved or shaped. Leather, fabric, glass and other similar items seem to be caught on sharp stones on the way down to the base of the crater several miles beneath Throttle's feet. It appeared whatever caused the collapse had taken victims with it, and movement suggested scavengers were already arriving. Throttle prayed that whoever was caught in the collapse had escaped already or passed into the Gods' care. Being hunted was terrifying and there were things far worse than Sabre-Tooth Squid that prowled the depths of Mars's cavern system.

Throttle's people dealt with creatures that his father told him were mythological to other species upon Mars. The illogical fear of sharp claws, vicious eyes and high intelligence were very real to Throttle and his people. Myths talked about Martians who went even deeper into Mars than Throttle's people and that this race had been changed irrevocably. The story of an ancient race may be made up, but the creature was very real and very dangerous. Fortunately, these creatures stayed incredibly deeper, deeper than Throttle's people could stray and therefore far out of sight and knowledge of most species. Throttle's people also thought there was quite a large population and it was certainly a frightening thought that there may be a large clan of them, a thought that seemed very close to reality when one saw the many scratches and bites that littered the skin of Sabre's who hunted in the depths. Throttle knew there was a flourishing and violent eco-system deep in the darkness, an eco-system that supported every living animal, from the small rodents to the largest Sabre's, but that eco-system was too deep and too dangerous to explore.

Throttle sighed, realising it was far too dangerous to be out in the open. The crater would soon belong to scavengers and no one wanted to be around when the creatures swarmed to scavenge precious food. The sky and what it revealed may be fascinating but it was dangerous to a lone Martian, especially one who was just a pup. He took one last glance at the beautiful and strange brightness of the sky before turning into the safety of the darkness and the comforting glow of luminescence that was behind him. Being encompassed back into the dark and being unseen once more brought Throttle comfort. His greatest skill was stealth, if he was noticed he was dead, and that was simply the way of life in these tunnels. Safety came from being unseen and silent, which was another reason about why he never believed his father's tales of Mice venturing to the surface, it wasn't just foolish it was suicidal, something Throttle wasn't. He planned on never going to close to that bright, beautiful but deadly sky.

Bioluminescence was also rarer the closer he got to the surface, not that he strayed too far up, he was no fool. While bioluminescence could be used to set traps by beasts, it was also usually an indicator of a safe place. Greens, blues, whites, yellows all tended to be produced by bacteria and plants, whereas the darker shades, reds, oranges, purples tended to be produced by animals. Colours also indicated natural resources, blues and whites indicating water whereas yellows indicated more natural minerals and nutrients. Animals that fed on these bacteria and plants mimicked these colours, though not all animal possessed bioluminescence, their fur too thick or simply because they did not evolve this feature. Their dung however, often had a hue or glow, hunters used this to determine what the animal ate (therefore determining its species) and by determining a food source they could also guess with a high level of accuracy where a prey animal may be heading and how fast. Some bacteria required more digestion than others, so some animals would be slow, napping or hiding somewhere until their meal could be fully digested, this meant the prey animal would not be far.

Unfortunately, with resources scarce, a lot of prey had died out or vanished deeper into Mars's cavern, probably another reason why so many creatures were considered myths by other Martian species, or so Throttle's father had told him so many years ago. But Throttle's people lived in a zone of great fortune, being close enough to the depths to hunt and revel in good food and water, but high enough that they were not so easily hunted themselves.

But Throttle was not stupid, that safety was no longer his, his clan long gone and no matter how experienced he was, one day one of the many predators would catch him off guard. If he was to survive, he needed to find others. But he'd wandered for almost a year and slept for half a year and each time he'd heard voices he'd lost whatever courage he'd gathered and fled. A pup could not survive forever on their own, he would eventually have to take that leap of faith.

But he had no idea where to start. He had grown up with people that were highly controlled, militaristic and efficient. He didn't know how to deal with outcasts and foreign mice, whenever his people stumbled across others or others stumbled across them his father dealt with it. Throttle wouldn't know what to say or do. The others culture was supposedly barbaric and that they were greedy and self-serving, would they see Throttle, a small pup, and see nothing but an opportunity?

He knew they were loud and stupid. Talking with raised voices, ranting and raving and alerting everything to their presence, which was useful to evade them but stupid if they were hunting or avoiding being hunted themselves. It proved, at least to Throttle that they were either foolish and cocky, or confident and skilled enough to not be afraid of the dangers the caverns possessed, either way it meant they were dangerous and Throttle had spent years learning to avoid danger not run into it head on.

Throttle would have to make a decision in time, but for now such contemplation was simply taking his mind off the most important thing, survival. He'd been heading in one destination, he sensed it was North, but did not really know what he was heading for. So far Throttle had just been walking to get away from his enemies, his tormentors. He had no plan, no final destination and he feared he would die in the dark, alone and forgotten. But instinct pushed him on and kept him fighting. Instinct was honestly all he had left; other than the small treasures he'd collected on his journey.

Well, actually he lied about not knowing where he was heading, he had stumbled across some signs that indicated a clan was nearby, strategically placed marks on tunnel entrances and exits, plants were growing where they wouldn't normally grow and bacterial colonies that appeared to pop up randomly. It all suggested that a clan nearby was strategically and stealthily placing plants and bacterial colonies and place markers to guide clansmen home or to give direction. But it meant, at least to Throttle, that danger was extremely close by. Throttle hoped his effort to remain in narrow tunnels meant that the larger mice and rats could not reach him, but he was not going to get over-confident. If he was to meet these outsiders, he hoped he would do so on his own terms.

Throttle did not know what he was seeking, a lone mouse, other pups or simply kind strangers and not the loud aggressive sounding voices he'd heard so far. He knew that in time these others would detect him. No matter his skill and experience, he was still a pup and although he could fit into most narrow crevices and tunnels, it just takes one moment of inattention or weakness and he'd be caught. He only had to hope the ones catching him wouldn't kill him.

He paused for a moment, his antenna warning him that something was amiss. The sensation that there was something not quite right ahead of him. Slowly, he crept forward, his curiosity getting the better of him.

It appeared that the collapsing of the tunnels he'd passed some time earlier had caused a shockwave that resulted in several distant tunnels collapsing as well. While not as severe as the crater Throttle had left behind, there were several tunnels that had collapsed into each other and the stone had collapsed deep enough to severely injure anyone who'd stood upon it, and they were deep enough that some daring predators would easily reach them.

"Gather only the essentials." A voice was ordering. "Gather ropes and supplies, forget everything else, we need to climb out of here now." The stress in the voice indicated that the speaker knew they were in danger. Throttle saw the speaker moments later, and he was immediately in awe and terrified. These mice were huge, one, a grey was a giant among giants, he looked taller and wider than even his father and Throttle did not know any Martian could get that big. Throttle trembled in fright but curiosity made him stay. He sought out the speaker and noticed that a mouse with the darkest brown fur seemed to be in charge. He didn't understand why, the brown seemed the smallest in this strange group.

Throttle was immediately fascinated by the colour, his people were naturally sandy coloured, in order to blend in with the golden, orange and yellow hued stones, rarely was one as dark as this strangers' fur. Throttle heard stories of other colours, of course, his father had many a tale about coloured barbarians. He wondered why any species would evolve colours that would make them stand out against stone. Even in the dark, earthy colours were more suitable for camouflage rather than white, for example, but his father had talked about variety of colours that appeared in patterns that made stealth all but impossible.

The dark bay mouse was gathering an assortment of mice and before Throttle's eyes he saw and a large variety of colour. Greys, reds, bays, black and even a white. And all stood out against the natural tan hue of the stone around them. Predators would have no trouble hunting them. They stood out like a rat's tail, bright and obvious, but they were clearly organised and armed. The bay, black and red lifted stone off a white, the white dragging himself to his feet with the help of a grey mouse who was clearly taking the entirety of the white's weight.

"Mac can't walk." The grey stated.

The white, who Throttle immediately assumed was Mac, sighed. "Tim's right, I can't walk, I think I've broken my leg. You must leave me. The beasts down here will be drawn to the vibration and the noise of the collapse. You need to get to safety."

"We are not leaving you." The bay snarled. "Get the ropes. Jordan, you and Milo need to climb up and set up a pully system. We need to get everyone up to safety now."

Throttle was surprised instantly by the passion and determination these mice seemed to have. His father spoke of unkind, barbaric beasts that would gladly sell their own dam if it meant they'd make a profit. Instead he was seeing mice that would rather risk sacrificing themselves then leaving one of their own behind. It was stupid, it was suicide and it was compassionate. The white was all but forced to piggy back the massive grey mouse, Tim. Carried like a small pup by his friend as the large, strange coloured group worked out how to scale the wall and reach safety.

He didn't know what made him do it, but Throttle noticed movement and immediately threw a precious dagger, striking a small predator directly in the throat as it went to bite and inject venom into the bay's throat. The bay startled, took one look at the blade and looked up at the outcropping of rock where Throttle stood. Throttle held his breath retreating into the darkness when red eyes seemed to find and follow him. The bay frowned, confused or maybe even angry before he shrugged his shoulders and turned to the small predator. He took the dagger, a small sabre-tooth from the beast's throat and analysed it, staring back up to Throttle's hiding place with a considering gaze. Throttle trembled as the buck pocketed the blade and followed his kin.

He'd been so stupid, he shouldn't have saved that mouse, but instinct had him throwing the blade, protecting the mouse. Instinct had exposed him to the others, had revealed his existence to the strangers. If they didn't know someone was prowling the tunnels close to their clan, they did now and soon there would be hunters patrolling the corridors looking for intruders, looking for him.

He should not have saved the dark stranger. But at the same time Throttle did not fully regret his actions. There was something about the dark buck, his red eyes seemed warm and his expression had seemed so kind. Perhaps he was seeing things, hoping for a kindness that would never exist towards him, an outsider, but he had felt hope, if they felt such foolish compassion between themselves, perhaps they had enough compassion to give to an orphaned pup.

Throttle resolved to stick around and observe. If nothing else being near another clan would provide some protection. With hunters and guards patrolling and a large number of mice around, most smaller predators would be driven away by the activity and others would be drawn to larger prey, such as these giant mice meaning he, a small pup, would be relatively un-noticeable and safe.

Informative notes:

These facts can be found on any website in reference to Mars, I tried to research and keep the numbers as realistic as possible. Although my maths may not be 100% perfect.

Mars year is 687 Earth days. Each Mars day lasts 24 hours and 37 minutes approximately.

Season length: Spring (194 days), Summer (178 days), Autumn (142 days) and Winter (154 days). (A/N: This adds up to 668, which does not match the estimated 687 days of the year stated by this very same website).

Surface Temperature: -87 to -5°C or -124.6 to 23°F.

Now on to my maths.

Days of the year + Hibernation:

So, Throttle was asleep for at least 300 days. He would have begun hibernation just before winter, and woken early summer. So, let us say using Earth months (1 month= 30 days) that he went to sleep a month before winter. That is 30 days before the winter plus 154 days of winter which will equal 184 days asleep so far. Spring is approximately 194 days. 184 + 194= 378. Throttle in my story sleeps for a total of 300 days. So, let us minus 78 extra days from spring. 194- 78 days= 116 days. So, Throttle wakes up on the 116th day of the year, 78 days before summer where food would (hopefully) be more plentiful. Now, for the sake of this first chapter, if we imagine this is the traditional way for most Martian animals to live (like most winter animals live on Earth), we can assume that once Martian Mice awaken, they need to hunt, build up the strength, build a family, build up their stockpile and then return to hibernation. If this is the case, Throttle would wake, hunt and live for most of the year, a total of 358 days approximately before returning to hibernation. Which completes most of the Martian year, since these are approximates it would not be precise, but at least now you all know where I am getting my numbers from!

Now on to temperature:

On Earth the ideal temperature for body heat is approximately 36.1°C to 37.2°C, or 97°F to 99°F. In other words, Mars would be freezing to us. Therefore, Martian Mice and other Martian creatures will have to use different methods for staying warm. Mammals will use thick fur and build up fats in their bodies by eating as much fatty and high protein products as they can, grizzly bears for example will eat and omnivorous diet, they eat plants, salmon and scavenge from carcasses. Other animals like seals, penguins and whales will have layers of blubber to insulate them. Birds like penguins will have thick downy feathers beneath their main feathers which will trap air, insulating them from the cold. In relation to Martian mice, I am thinking fur but for the Sabre-Tooth Squid, I am thinking thick leathery skin and blubber.

Mars may be cooling down and or cooler than Earth, but it still has a molten core so the closer to the core the warmer the temperature, another reason for 'burrowing' Martians.

Sabre-Tooth Squid: How does that work!

How does a squid get so big on a dying planet?! And how does it move out of water.

Well…

It is all down to gravity! The websites tell me that 100lb's on Earth is only 38lbs on Mars due to the reduced gravity. That means all these Massive Creatures can move around with ridiculous ease on Mars but will probably be crushed by their own weight if they somehow made it to Earth!

I don't know if you've seen the Doctor Who episode with Katherine Jenkins where there are sharks that swim in the air. I am thinking the same thing with Squid, the lightness of gravity, and their size means they can store and release air just like Squid do in Earth oceans to get about, only instead of an ocean it is elaborate honeycomb tunnels beneath Mar's surface.

As for the honeycomb caves, well this is made up, but I am absolutely positive there are caves on Mars, Mars (briefly in terms of our solar system) had water and water can carve or erode stone given time, and some scientists believe there may be ancient reservoirs of water below the surface, so it seemed realistic to assume there would be some caves (perhaps not as many as are in this story) but it provides a way of explaining how many species could survive on Mars without discovery. I also thought a lot about Earth's own Marianna Trench when I wrote this, thinking about how each layer had its own mysterious eco-system. Hence why there is so much variety hinted at in this chapter and a potential reason for why Sabre-Tooth's get so large.

More facts will follow each of my chapters: please feel free to research and give me some of your thoughts about Mars!