# Mars-127 opening chapter (2100 words)



## Jamboree (Jul 14, 2015)

[h=1]Chapter 1[/h] 
January 2059


Qu.34) The Fibonacci numbers F_n_ are defined by the recurrence relation

F_n_ = _Fn_−1 + F_n_−2, for _n_≥2

And F0 = 0 and F1 = 1. Prove for every integer n≥0, that 

F_n_ = α_n_−β_n_√5

Where
α = 1+√5-2   and   β = 1−√5-2



I look down at the exam paper. A simple question to have to answer. I turn the page of the answer booklet, the question already memorised in my head, and start to write down the half a page of working required to answer the question.
Something moving in the corner of my eye makes me look up. A group of four guards are carrying a large metal crate across the snowy path in front of the classroom. They appear to be struggling with the weight of the load. It doesn’t interest me so I turn back to complete the paper. I finish the question and turn over the page to the penultimate one. Again it is simple to answer.
There’s a loud crash from outside. The guards have dropped the crate and are arguing amongst themselves. One of them has dropped his gun and is hopping on the spot, holding his hand. 
“Ruddy hell,” Mutters Dr Stark from the front of the room, sat behind his desk. He neatly orders the stack of paper that he was reading and stands up. “I’ll be back in a moment, Mars. Keep working on your paper. You have fifteen minutes left.” He runs his left hand through his thinning ginger hair and leaves the room. I turn back to the final question of my mathematics paper. The exam doesn’t count for anything. Nor have the other seventeen that I have already completed this week. They just want to show the results to the board so that funding for the laboratory continues. I jot down the answer to the last question, 8πα, and fold up the answer and question booklet. My pen and pencil go back into the front pouch of my bag and I stand up. I pick up and place the papers on Dr Stark’s desk and then return to my seat. Dr Stark strolls over to the guards. They stop arguing immediately and line up in front of him. He doesn’t have any official power over them yet few people argue with Dr Stark. He steps up and inspects the crate. It doesn’t have appeared to have been damaged in the drop. 
He takes a torch from the closest guard and peers between the narrow gaps in the bars. All around the box he moves, staring intently into the crate. When his back is facing me he jumps back slightly. The guards do the same even though they can’t see what Dr Stark is looking at. The crate begins to rock slightly. There must be a live creature inside. It is probably another Chimpanzee for use in their tests. The box keeps on rocking, the movement steadily becoming more vigorous. Dr Stark points his arms at the guards and then towards the metal box. I can hear the muffled sound of his voice shouting at the guards through the double glazing of the classroom. I can’t understand a word that he is saying but he isn’t happy. He is demonstrating the common physical characteristics of a person who is very angry. Or upset. But I think that he is angry. 
And that is not a good thing. The guards often shy away from Dr Stark and I’ve overheard rumours of an incident at his previous job. I have two choices; leave since I have finished the paper, or wait until he comes back. Both have consequences but I am drawn to the later. Staying allows me to watch the situation outside from a safe distance. I pick up my papers and return to my desk. I open them, pretending to be working whilst I keep an eye on the situation outside. 
There’s a loud bang from outside. The box has stopped moving but the guards around it are retreating slightly, their guns raised. Even Dr Stark is stepping backwards, his body blocking the majority of the crate from my eyesight. He then takes a step to his left, moving towards the closest guard. The metal crate is in full view. And hairy arm disappears back into the box through a fist sized hole. It was no Chimpanzee or monkey’s arm. If anything it belonged to a human. But no normal human or primate could punch a hole through a thick iron cage. 
Dr Stark steps up again this time with a gun in hand. He blocks my view again but appears to point the gun through the hole made by the creature inside. Two quick shots sound from the gun. Whatever the creature was it is now dead. Dr Stark hands the gun back to the guard and immediately starts to order them back into action. The guards fall back into formation and lift the crate up. They begin to carry it off as Julia Sanders marches over from her office. The snow is kicked up into the air in front of her as she heads towards Dr Stark in her high heeled shoes. Another set of guards walk past carry another crate. Dr Stark watches them carefully before turning and talking to his boss.  
Their conversation is brief before she turns and points at me. They turn in unison and stare straight at me. I react quickly and stare straight back down at my paper. I don’t dare to look up but I know that they have seen me watching the scenario outside unfold. Nothing much happened but I feel like I am in trouble for watching. I take out my pen and pencil and check my answers to the paper. There’s no point though, they are all correct. I won’t have made a mistake. 
I hear the door of the classroom open and look up. Dr Stark moves into the room with a small cut on his forehead. 
“Sir, you are bleeding.” I poke my own face where the cut is on his. His face flickers before he smiles and pulls a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket. He reaches up and touches the oozing wound. “Bloody monkeys. Have you finished the paper, Mars?” I nod.
“Then bring it over and be on your way,” I put away my pen and pencil and take the paper over towards him. He snatches it out of my hand and slouches into his desk chair. I leave the room. 
I jog across the road towards the Sports Centre. It is one of the three areas that I am allowed free access to at all times. The other two are the Cafeteria at the northern end of the complex and the second and third floors of the laboratory. My classrooms are located on the former and my bedroom on the latter. The first floor of the building is made up of lab rooms, offices and the medical centre. 
It’s a cold day and the wind blows the frigid air through the thin fabric of my gym top and shorts. The temperature is minus ten degrees. I carry on through the staff car park and into the building. Warmth washes over me as I step inside. The entire complex is partially government funded so it never runs out of power unlike a lot of the country. I quickly jump up the stairs, five at a time until I reach the third floor. The whole floor is one room entirely for my sole use. In the farthest corner is a small gym set up with specially adapted machines that are capable of withstanding the extra forces involved in my physical exercises. The south facing wall of the room is made up of three large windows that look out over the perimeter fence and onto the forest below. You can see the only entrance and road to the complex from here.
“What time do you call this then?” demands Lottie Harper, one of my personal trainers. She strolls over towards me from the far end of the room. I prefer Lottie, she allows me to call her by her first name unlike Mr. Black, my other personal trainer. She trains me in the aspects of agility, balance, coordination and skill. Mr Black trains me in strength, stamina and combat. 
I know her question isn’t serious as I’ve never been late for a lesson with any of my teachers. Behind her the equipment that we will be using is already set up. A cricket bowling machine is placed twenty metres away from a large square of gym mats. Behind them is a net.
“A slight change of plan today, Mars. Instead of having to avoid the balls you will be catching them. This should test your hand-eye coordination and reactions a lot since I will be sending them at you at over 100 miles per hour. I hope that we can hit 150 mph by the end of the lesson.” Each lesson is 90 minutes long. “Even though your skin is a lot tougher than mine you still have to wear these.” She passes me a pair of black gloves. “Unless you want hands with no skin on them.” She flashes me a smile I don’t understand why. Is she happy thinking about me losing my skin from my hands? I slip on the gloves regardless and move towards the gym for my warm up.
The treadmill softly hums as I begin my warm up. I load the pre-set warm up regime. The first five minutes are spent building up to 30kph. Then I complete a 5k run at 30kph. This is a minute and a half faster than the current world record. 
The reason that I can do this is because I am a Superhuman. The only Superhuman in the world. In 2044 Edward D Screen, a University of Southampton graduate, published a paper based on the theoretical creation of a genetically created human with enhanced physical and mental capabilities. The theoretical human would be superior in every aspect of life. Faster, stronger, smarter, healthier. But attempts to create this enhanced human failed for years and years. Yet in 2059 I was created, the first and only Superhuman on Earth. My existence is known about worldwide but only to a select few. Most don’t even believe that I could be created. That the genetically created human is purely theoretical. 
“146” Cries Lottie as she lowers the next ball into the machine. A second later it shoots out a mere two metres to my left. I catch the ball comfortably before springing straight back up to catch a ball flying above my head with my right hand. 
“Very nice, Mars, very nice. No need to show off now though.” She steps down off the chair behind the bowling machine and walks over. “I remember when you were just a few weeks old and caught your first ball. Everyone came over from the laboratory to watch you do it.” She comes over to collect the bucket that I have put the caught balls in to. 
I can remember the day well. My eidetic memory never forgets. I was just twenty days old at the time but in the body of a fourteen year old. 
“I’ve enjoyed training you, Mars. I will be sad when you leave in sixty days’ time.”
“Sixty days?” I ask. My graduation, and unveiling to the world, isn’t until I am eighteen years old. 
“Yeah, you leave in sixty days. Don’t you?” Her cheeks flush red.
“No I leave in twenty six months.” There’s a pause as she turns slightly to look at the window.
“Yes. Yes of course you do. I must have been told the wrong date. Silly me,” She lets out a quiet laugh and hurries back to the bowling machine. I’m not convinced but I don’t know for certain yet.
“Do you know what I am doing when I leave?” Another pause.
“Yeah, you’re heading off to university I believe.” She’s wrong. I will have already obtained my PhD and I will be allowed to choose my occupation. She’s lying and I know it. 
“Can we continue please, Mars? And let’s not get off topic again.” I return back to my position on the gym mats. Lottie won’t look my way as she lowers a ball into the machine. 
Something is going to happen in sixty days’ time. Something big that will affect me. I need to find out what it is. But for the moment it can wait. 


Hi all, this is the first chapter of my story. I just want to know any thoughts that you may have on the piece as I change my mind about it frequently. Some days I am happy with it but other days I am not. Many thanks in advance, Jam


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## MeowCaptain (Aug 9, 2015)

Wow, this is really an interesting story. How much have you written, as of yet? I want more! 

I really like the idea of superhumans potentially replacing us in society. I expect the story will have some detective elements to it, since Mars wants to discover what happens in sixty days.

However, I would recommend describing the characters and the place Mars is a bit more, so the reader can have a perfect image of what's hapenning.

Other than that, it's a good start. Can't wait to read what's next!


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## Josh Colon (Oct 30, 2015)

Interesting read.

Is the 'not a monkey' killed by Dr. Stark relevant to the story?
I can see the guards and I can visualize the facility where the guy is living.
Obviously some sort of government research place.

I think you should post some more in here.

Josh.


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## Bard_Daniel (Jan 14, 2016)

This is an interesting read, though it feels a little rushed and I think you should pay close attention to your phrasing as you work your way through. I like your instigation of the monkey as an event to stir up attention in the reader, but I also am wondering how important it is to the story.

Write on!


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## davebroward (Jan 29, 2016)

Very good. I assume the monkey is an experiment gone awry. It will be interesting to see how this story evolves. I wonder also, is Stark the Stark from Stark Enterprises and you're playing off of the superhero thing? I would really like to continue reading this story. Hope you post more. Thank you for the privilege.


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## DarkSunshine (Feb 8, 2016)

Yes! I enjoyed it very much!
Only problem for me was that it was hard for my eyes. Maybe you can structure them so that quotes from people are written on the next paragraph?
For example: 
I was sitting at the bar when a girl approached me.
"Hey!" she greeted.
I looked at her strangely.....


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