July 6, 2018

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 128: Paolo Out of Burroughs and Enroute to Bradbury


On a well-settled Mars, the five major city Council regimes struggle to meld into a stable, working government. Embracing an official Unified Faith In Humanity, the Councils are teetering on the verge of pogrom directed against Christians, Molesters, Jews, Rapists, Buddhists, Murderers, Muslims, Thieves, Hindu, Embezzlers and Artificial Humans – anyone who threatens the official Faith and the consolidating power of the Councils. It makes good sense, right – get rid of religion and Human divisiveness on a societal level will disappear? An instrument of such a pogrom might just be a Roman holiday...To see the rest of the chapters, go to SCIENCE FICTION: Martian Holiday on the right and scroll to the bottom for the first story. If you’d like to read it from beginning to end (70,000+ words as of now), drop me a line and I’ll send you the unedited version.

The slidewalk let out into a huge cavern. “I didn’t come in here,” said Paolo Marcillon.

“Nope. This is Breachport. Common Law – about the closest thing we have to a free port on Mars – is enforced here by squads of police from all of the major Domes and a few of the minor ones. Makes certain everyone gets a fair shake if things go sideways. All the Domes are supposed to have one,” said Judas, a contact with the faith underground in Burroughs. Paolo followed him until they reached a parked marsbug. “This is mine. Touch your com to mine.” Paolo pulled his out and did. “All right. You have all my passcodes and IDs. They’ll get you out of Burroughs lands. After that you’re on your own.”

“Thanks,” Paolo said. The two men faced each other awkwardly. “I think in better circumstances we might have been good friends.”

“Agreed.” He stepped forward abruptly, hugged Paolo and whispered, “We’re being followed. Get moving.”

Paolo hugged him back, nodded and got into the ‘bug. He was rolling a few moments later after using the IDs on his com to check out. He lifted his hand as he passed Judas and said a brief prayer. Then he was on his way.

Via Cydonia terminated in the Cydonia region in the northern hemisphere of the planet. After decades of study, observations from Earth as well as data from a dozen orbiting and landing probes, tied together with speculation from the Twentieth and the Twenty-first Centuries had led to wild stories and theories about the region.

Geologically, most were confirmed: the Cydonia region was a transitional zone between the heavily cratered regions to the south and relatively smooth plains to the north. Strong evidence suggested that it had been underwater in the early millennia of Mars and there was virtual certainty among Mars aerologists that Cydonia had been a coastal zone.

Of course, confirming that the Face On Mars was only a light and camera artifact created by equipment that was both the best possible at the time, but was comparatively primitive today – had been irrelevant to the true believers. Paolo shook his head sadly. Long-established religious faiths were banned on Mars, but Facers had a government-funded research facility – the Temple of the Face is what people whispered behind the true believers backs. Usually they snickered shortly after.

Shaking his head, he pulled up the travel corridor map. Between him and Cydonia was Bradbury, the ostensible capital of Mars – at least Mayor Chief Mrs. Lilac Esien Ndem held firmly to that title. The other Dome Mayors disputed it, but her cold-blooded refusal to give up the designation made their objections moot. He’d just as soon go around that Dome, but not only did it lay between him and the Face On Mars, between the capital and Cydonia was one last, small dome. He said, “Current status of Ares Station.”

The ‘bug’s computer replied, “Ares is currently running a complete balloon survey of the Cydonia Basin in the area of The Face.”

Paolo scowled. “What are they expecting to find?”

“Stated purpose is the investigation of gravitational anomalies in the region.”

“They’ve seen those before. Why the research now?”

“A new gravitational anomaly appeared seven days ago. First they will survey for any others, then send a team in to investigate the new anomaly.”

“Seven days ago?”

“Yes.”

That was when he’d run over the satellite and activated it. He sat in silence for some time, the computer signing off in the meantime. Finally he said out loud, “I don’t believe in coincidences.”


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