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.
OrcAH,
the local librarian blinked, then in a softer voice said, “The name ‘Ghost
Dome’ is rarely used, Sir. What possible connection might the Hero of the Faith
have with the manufacture of satellites?”
Paolo
shrugged, scratched his chin, and said, “That’s what I want to know.” He paused
then added, “I happen to know that the Hero is not dead.”
OrcAH’s
eyes went wide and his mouth opened but no sound came out. The look on his face
changed as well – he was no longer indifferent but stunned.
Paolo
lowered his voice and leaned down, whispering, “I know this because he is my
brother.”
“The
Hero…”
“Yeah,
I know the story – the Hero was an orphan, whose parents had been murdered by a
psychotic Muslim who thought he was serving Allah by killing them. He was later
taken to a Christian orphanage where he was sexually abused by a nun. After he
was adopted by a Hindu family, he was forced to watch by a Buddhist…” said
Paolo, waving a hand in irritation. He’d heard the recitation a thousand times.
He’d been at the kitchen table when his parents concocted it.
The
Librarian held up its hand. “I know the Catechism of the Faith in Humanity as
well as you do, son: All life is individually autonomous; do no harm; work
tirelessly to do good; act fairly. Additions come from various other works of
Humanity, but if we strive to keep these four guides. What could that
possibly…”
“The
Ghost Dome wasn’t destroyed as an act of terrorism. It was aimed at stopping
the incipient United Faith in Humanity from forcing all other competing faiths
underground. Now, as to the satellite manufacture and design. I was wondering
if there was any way we could match this design to something in your archives.”
He held up his hand, his pocket computer projecting a three-dimensional image
of the thing he’d found wedged under his marsbug out in the Depression: There
was nothing that made it look like it could have landed, though one end was
slightly wider than the other and there were four tapered bumps that had been
placed equilaterally around it. It had also had markings under a strong green
light – at 550 nanometers. They’d been incomprehensible but clearly
intelligently shaped.
“Where…where
did you find this?”
“North
of the Grand Island Dust Sink,” said Paolo, scratching his side, a ferocious
itch growing there.
“In
the desert? What were you doing so far from civilization?”
Paolo
sniffed, “Not so far from civilization as you’d think.”
OrcAH
looked up at him, scowling, but didn’t ask the obvious question. Instead, he
said, “Follow.” The little man didn’t wait for Paolo, but set off with long
strides – for him – and deeper into information stored on everything from rice
paper to quantum bubbles. The library itself seemed to be arranged by
information storage method rather than by subject. They kept going and as they
did, the light grew dimmer. The man said, “The EM spectrum in the Human visible
range causes the deterioration of certain of these artifacts and books. You’ve
already noticed that the humidity in the library is substantially lower than in
typical Human habitation.”
“I
did notice,” he said, scratching at an elbow. The light dimmed further. “Where are we
going?” he asked. Abruptly the librarian
stopped in front of a blank wall. It glowed faintly blue.
“This
is a special archive we maintain here. It contains certain artifacts discovered
on the surface of Mars.” He passed his hand over a section of the wall and it
became transparent. “The atmosphere mimics the natural atmosphere on the
planet, though the pressure is Earth-normal. The lights are tuned to natural
Martian light and varies seasonally as well. We do not mimic the winds on the surface.”
“Why…”
Paolo said. Then he saw them. On a long stone table stood three squarish,
smooth slabs of Martian stone. On each, he could see some sort of pattern.
Nothing that would suggest letters or images or hash marks. But there had been
marked.
“We
have studied these three – we call them the Stele – by exposing them to the
entire length of the EM spectrum. But there is only one kind of energy that
reveals what are admittedly ancient marking. Even under this energy, they are
barely discernible…”
“Ultrasound,”
Paolo whispered.
Without
missing a beat, OrcAH whispered, “Ultrasound.”
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