Mirage for Planet X — Edition Insights

Corpses and Contradictions

The opening pages dwell on physical decay with clinical precision. Bodies from the Phobos escape are described as 'meaningless parodies'—half-burnt, half-frozen, with 'lacy overlay of snowflake patterns in red.' Mullen contrasts Torry's disgust with Grannar's hardened pragmatism: 'You can get used to this.' This tension between revulsion and routine recurs throughout the excerpts, as characters treat violence and death as occupational hazards.

The only survivor, Holden, is reduced to 'a bulging mass of pulped, purple flesh' kept alive by tubes. Torry's bitterness toward Bart Roper—'I know him better than you do'—hints at a personal history that the excerpts do not fully reveal. The police investigation, ostensibly about identifying Roper, quickly becomes a backdrop for a larger conspiracy involving transmitters, mineral claims, and a sealed auction prize.

Collapsing Spaces and Hidden Passages

Mullen repeatedly traps characters in spaces that literally fall apart. The underground garden where Torry meets Sen Bas is shattered by 'an avalanche of steel and stone and breaking glass'; the ceiling cracks, and debris pours in 'like advancing mountains.' Torry digs Sen Bas out from under a hillock of rubble, using a length of reinforcing steel as a lever. The scene is chaotic, with alarms, red lights, and a fusillade of shots—but the physical collapse is the dominant image.

These collapses are not random. They coincide with police raids and the activation of hidden technology. The transmitter, 'securely hidden where the police will not find it,' is buried beneath the garden. Mullen uses the destruction to force movement: Torry must escape through dust clouds, find the transmitter, and reach Triton. The setting itself becomes an obstacle, with every safe space turning into a trap.

Dust, Dehydration, and the Martian Landscape

Mars in this story is defined by dryness and dust. The plains are 'wind-whipped,' with 'dust devils dancing' across them. Bodies desiccate rather than rot; the air is cold and dry. Mullen emphasizes the physical effects of the environment: 'Deep-freeze temperatures hold down decay bacteria, and the dry, cold air quickly dessicates the tissue.' This is not a romanticized Mars but a hostile, dehydrating world.

The dust returns in the underground collapse, where it blinds Torry and chokes the air. Even the police raid is accompanied by 'dust clouds.' Mullen uses the dust as a sensory detail that unifies the surface and underground scenes—the same grit that covers the plains also fills the hidden garden. The environment is inescapable, and characters are always aware of the thin, cold air and the ever-present particles.

Movement Between Worlds: Mars, Triton, and the Transmitter

The plot hinges on travel: from Mars to Triton, via a transmitter that distorts time and space. Sen Bas explains that the transmitter is 'not as instantaneous as it seems'—hours pass for the user while minutes elapse elsewhere. This technology allows Roper to reach Triton ahead of Torry, and it creates a race against a Solar Survey ship. The excerpts do not reveal whether Torry successfully uses the transmitter, but the setup is clear: the story moves from the claustrophobic Martian underground to the open, unclaimed satellite of Neptune.

Mullen contrasts the crowded, policed cities of Mars with the promise of 'sole possession' on Triton. The auction prize—Roper's 'notorious loot'—remains sealed, its contents unknown. The movement between worlds is not just physical but thematic: from a world of rules and corpses to one of potential freedom and danger. The excerpts end before the auction, leaving the prize as a dangling promise.

Readers should pay attention to how Mullen uses physical details—dust, rubble, mummified flesh—to create a sense of a harsh, material universe. The story does not linger on abstract ideas; it moves from one concrete crisis to the next. The sealed auction prize is a MacGuffin, but the real interest lies in how characters navigate a world that is literally falling apart around them. The excerpts suggest a fast-paced adventure with a grim, unsentimental tone.

That Mullen story stayed with me oddly—all that dust and silence between worlds. It made me think of another quiet book, Last Night Out — Context and Discussion, which lingers in a similar way. Not the plot, just the feeling of spaces left unfinished, like a room you’re still standing in long after the lights go out.