ROGUE OF MARS
A novel by John Garavaglia
Based on the graphic novel by
Greg Thompson, Scott Davis,
Jeff “Chamba” Cruz and
Kiatisak Piewkao
Sinbad: Rogue Of Mars © 2018 Darren G. Davis & Markosia Enterprises, Ltd. All Rights Reserved. Reproduction of any part of this work by any means without the written permission of the publisher is expressly forbidden. All names, characters and events in this publication are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. Published by Markosia Enterprises, PO BOX 3477, Barnet, Hertfordshire, EN5 9HN.
FIRST PRINTING, June 2018.
Harry Markos, Director.
Paperback: ISBN 978-1-911243-92-2
eBook: ISBN 978-1-911243-93-9
Book design by: Ian Sharman
www.markosia.com
First Edition
“A little body doth often harbor a great soul.”
Arabian Proverb
ALSO BY JOHN GARAVAGLIA
AND PUBLISHED BY
MARKOSIA
DORIAN GRAY
PROLOGUE
An alien sun and a massive moon shone through a thick, dusty sky, at levels too bright for comfort. A blue skinned man and his two sons were standing in a barren wasteland.
The man known as Azrak was traveling through the desert with his children while they were on their way home from the marketplace. They had stopped in the middle of the desert for a water break, and Azrak was watching his two boys playing a very rigorous game of tag.
Then over the horizon, a light started to outshine the hot sun, adding to the feeling of intense heat.
Azrak knew something was coming.
He could sense it, feel it in the shaking of the surface under him. The air around the family rumbled louder and louder; the dust, swirling like a breeze, was kicking it up. Yet, the father could feel no wind against his face. Not even his fabrics moved in the high winds.
Something big was coming.
Huge.
But he didn’t know what.
He just waited, facing it, wanting to turn and run; yet not doing so. He needed to know what it was.
He needed to face it.
The air swirled and the dust choked him. The surface under his feet shook, as the horizon got even brighter.
The unknown came closer.
And closer.
He shook off the feeling of dread and tried to calm his fast beating heart. He desperately needed to know what it meant. And what he was waiting for.
Azrak felt the earth move suddenly. Then he heard a loud rumble.
“Father, what is it?” said Sobek, his youngest son. “Is it a quake?”
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6
“No,” Azrak replied, “there are no fault lines anywhere near here.”
“What’s going on?” asked Matthias, Azrak’s eldest child.
The rumbling deepened, growing into a deafening roar. The boys were frightened, but Azrak was just calmly looking over the horizon as if he couldn’t be less concerned.
“Father?” Matthias called again, but Azrak wasn’t paying him any attention.
He saw the sand from the dunes rose up like a violent sandstorm. It was impossible, but it appeared to him that it was the end of the days.
The children stood behind their father as the sand sprayed over to them. Then they all saw it. A meteor was streaking just above them, right over their heads. It was large and seemed to be made out of wood—not iron ore—and it was about to crash.
Azrak forced opened his eyes, the bright light was hurting them.
There was a sudden thunderous blast.
Then, for a moment, everything was silent.
“Is it over?” asked Sobek.
The answer came just a moment later with a deafening explosion that rattled the desert.
Azrak’s heart was racing. He wasn’t sure what happened. Then he shoved his fears aside.
“Follow me, boys,” he said to his awestruck children. “No dawdling.”
Azrak and his sons rushed over the dunes, and along the way they saw the charred trench, several hundred feet long. Rising from the superheated dunes far out in the desert as hot wind tickled the dune crests, spraying sand downslope in neat sire curves. It was not the cause of the eruption of sand that occurred near the center of one dune, however. Over the hill, they found it. It was still hot and smoking.
There was a deep crater in the middle of the desert. At the bottom of it the large wooden ship was cooling off
JOHN GARAVAGLIA
7
from the heat of entry. He stretched out his foot to see how hot the ground was. The heat rushed up to his nose, and without meaning to, he pulled back instinctively. He could feel his pulse beating. It was loud and painful, but he braced himself and started again.
The craft was unlike anything Azrak had ever seen before. The ship wasn’t built with metal and rivets. It was made of wood, and it had sails. This was certainly no spacecraft. It was a nautical vessel. The question running through Azrak’s mind was what a ship of that purpose would be doing in the middle of the desert.
It looked like the ship had been through a terrible storm. The sails were ripped and tattered. The three masts were all entwine and cracked. The hull was damaged beyond repair. It was as if the entire ship had fallen from the sky.
“Over here, Father!” exclaimed Sobek.
Azrak followed his son to the starboard side of the ship to discover a humanoid alien life form. It had pink skin and also appeared to be male. It was wearing some sort of hat on its head, and the sun caught the glimmer of the golden medallion hung around its neck. The man’s face was bruised and battered, more black and blue than anything else. One
