The steady stutter of the lamp overhead did nothing to help light the underground cavern. Thick trails of dust settled in the artificial atmosphere as mounds of rags shuffled by. Then a group broke off determined to do their duty for the cause. A mound in the middle of the group knew that things were escalating out of control. Jack Higgins had known for months. His eyes darted around below the dust filled rags, thick, black, grease covered his face in a pattern of swirls. He moved a piece of cloth to his face and wiped the sweat from it, but all he succeeded in doing was moving the grease around. It was useless - the same as their life.

The colonists on Mars finally knew that they were doomed to a factory existence. Generation after generation would be born into this perpetual hell. Industrial children for an industrial world. Red Planet Incorporated had no intention of fulfilling it's promises, but another broken promise was just too much - the scales had tipped. Jack thought about his meagre life on Mars, why had he left Earth, his life had not been perfect however it had been better than this futile existence. He had supposedly been building a world for themselves on the surface and in the mean time they would stay underground. Gigantic masterpieces of transparent titanium would span the surface of the sandy red planet. What a joke, there had been nothing happening, nothing going on. In the mean time they worked underground in the factories, their pay sufficient only to feed them and that was often not even enough.

There was a dim and distant light up ahead, perhaps they had finally reached the upper levels. They were soon to see what the workers at Red Planet Incorporated were hiding. When had it started, why had they decided to riot. To Jack it seemed like such a long time ago, but he could just about remember it.

The heavy metal door was thrown open with a ferocity previously unknown to it. Weary eyes looked up to see the entrant leap wildly into the room. Attention had been paid and the audience were ready.

The excited eyes of another faceless worker leapt wildly around the room, Jack could see him gesticulating wildly but he could not hear a thing the anger in the room, the resentment towards the corporation had risen another notch. The single lamp was pulled over from the sack cloth beds huddled in the corner to spotlight the man centre stage. As Jack moved closer he could hear his words over the mad rantings of the organisers.

"...clean corridors, with plants, green plants taken from earth. They have real water running in a garden and clothes, proper clothes. Everything's well lit, bright. The walls 're made of metal not this red rock."

The organisers of the workers had leapt in questioning the man about everything, ordering him to tell all. The man excitedly told all unaware of the implications. Why had he not realised, then it struck Jack, it would all be too beautiful. Beauty and the beast, their world underground repulsive and dirty to the ordinary people seemed like home to them, a pitiful home which they resented but still home. In contrast the world above would seem like a paradise the ultimate sanctuary of Peace and Well Being.

With heavy eyes Jack realised that their fight would be hopeless, how could they defeat some one as powerful as the enemy. Eden was waiting for them but the gates were shut, they had been refused entrance and no one here was willing to pay the price, no one was willing to sacrifice his or her sense of decency and morals. No one could go unless they all went, the injustice would have been too great.

The organisers led the excited worker from the room to make their plans and it was from there that the whirlwind of confusion and violence began. The speed rose from here and there was no one who could stopped it.

The rags marched towards the light, towards the topside world, towards the confrontation. The march had taken them longer from their home. Jack looked down at the thick dust, it was slow going after their tiring day in the factory. The worried look on his face had dissipated into a listless, tired expression. He did not think that they would make it, it would be a repeat of last week when they had gone on strike. Two weeks ago the organizers had spoken, they had come back to the words that had been spoken by the excited worker.

The organizer stood on a little box, it was the sturdiest possession that the workers possessed. There was a fire in his eyes, an unknown passion to the situation. There was none of the depression that had gone before, the slump of emotions had ended and now there was only a fiery, angry spirit. A phoenix reborn from the ashes of the broken promises.

"...To succeed we will have to strike, bring the upper worlders down. Stop production of transparent titanium, bring them to their knees."

"What about the guards?" cried a voice in the wilderness.

Jack's face fell. He had been ready to go along with strike, but know the thought of the guards, why had he not thought of them before. His eyes began to loose the passion that had so gripped them only moments before.

The organizer lost none of the faith, they were so fired up that they could not be dissuaded from the cause. "We will fight them and we will over come them. Our cause is just and we will have our victory, we will have our day when we will live a life to be proud of. We will live on the surface!" The workers had been fired up by the pre strike pep talk. They cheered and laughed, but to Jack it sounded hollow and out of place in the cramped, red tunnels.

They surrounded the lights, a metal door was all that blocked them from penetrating the inner sanctum of the corporation. One of the workers stepped forward and turned the wheel his rags swung from side to side as he opened the wheel lock in a rhythmic motion. The entire group was excited, tense but excited. The rags quivered with a purpose, to bring down the corporation. It was the same enthusiasm that had gripped them when they had striked. That was until the guards had arrived. But what would happen this time, events were escalating so fast that Jack was unable to predict what would happen. Now that they had arrived at their destination Jack had resumed his worried look, his eyes darted to everyone and everything, his movements were cautious and thought out, he was going to be as prepared as possible, not like at the strike.

The chants were roaring but so was something else, Jack looked around to try and figure this one out but he could not. There was something happening that intermingled with the chants it was like trying to identify one grain of martian soil. That is when it happened. Guards burst into the room and door flew off of its hinges with a chemical explosion. The workers nearest were injured maybe dead. The guards had no sympathies, all they had to do was pacify the area with any means necessary. Bullets spattered the red sand, throwing it up and creating excellent cover for the guards, any workers caught in the way were unfortunate victims.

Jack threw himself behind a machine, he felt the cold trickle of fear running down his back, his eyes wide and his breath short unmaintainable gasps. He had to calm down and find some control in this situation. He had to do something, he had to escape. What was happening. People around him were being shot. Death and destruction. The short sharp burst of gun fire ricochet off the walls and machinery. Something exploded, they could not be using grenades, they could bring the entire cavern down on themselves. They could kill themselves, they could kill us thought Jack. There, an opening, if he moved quickly he could escape.

Jack tried to control his breathing, tried to stop it rattling round his lungs in breathless wheezes. He tried to make sense of the crazy situation. Then he realised, what was the point of making any sense of this, what did it matter, all that mattered was escape, and there was his chance.

The door was open and Jack marvelled at the beauty beyond. Clean, sparkling, well lit, metal corridors with tall plants placed to attention exactly every two metres down the hall. There was what appeared to be a crew mover up ahead but it was not what the had underground it was new and clean and, and, Jack could not think of the words because to him only earth could compare to this and that was by now a dim and distant memory almost like yesterday when the decision to riot was taken. This had moved to fast for Jack. In a way it was almost unreal, rather like what he was seeing around him. Jack stood eyes wide with his mouth hanging open. He was like a child in wonder, sampling new delights, very unlike the hell of yesterday.

Events spiralling out of control. The sturdy box. The organizers. Anger. Rage. "We must fight back." Jack was whirled around he had lost all comprehension. It was all going to fast to follow. Riot. Cheers and jubilation. A pre riot pep talk. They were not sports stars, there were no sports on Mars, why did they need a pep talk. Date set. Tomorrow. Anger. Rage. Determination. It was as though an invisible force were spinning Jack around faster and faster and faster.

Guards could be seen coming out of the crew mover, they had anticipated their arrival. The crowd began to grow angry. But once again the guards showed no sympathy as they threaded the tapestry of rags with bullets. Shots. Confusion. Terror. Pain. Jack felt pain, it had all been futile. There had been no point to this senseless slaughter. On his death Jack realised that the corporation was omnipotent and would lie to suit itself. More gullible people would follow in Jack's footsteps, newer generations would still come to Mars and the slaughter would happen again. Mars was red for a reason.