December 28, 2017

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 117: Paolo In Burroughs

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.


Judas said, “So some of these extraterrestrials wrote in metal on satellites and some wrote on stones – like the Ten Commandments? That doesn’t make any sense!”

Paolo nodded slowly. “I thought of one way it might.”

Judas frowned, clearly trying to parse what Paolo was certain of. “I don’t see it.”

Paolo hesitated. He was going to have to speak up sometime. Saying it out loud to one man would only risk a bloody nose rather than speaking to a group and risking a lynching. He said, “The satellite came first, probably scanning Mars for landing sites and that kind of thing, some sort of survey. Likely communication, the same way we use them; maybe surveillance of Phobos and Deimos. Maybe Earth – though there were likely only dinosaurs there at the time. They were most likely spying on Venus.”

“Venus? What was on Venus?”

“Another intelligence. You remember the Solar Explorer’s twelve year mission? They returned with evidence supporting that there was some sort of war that happened here between a civilization on Venus – that released a weapon or had a weapon released against it.”

He shook his head, scowling. “That’s a subject for a much longer discussion. Why would they turn around and write on rocks?”

“Because it was all they had left after they were marooned here, doomed to die.”

“Why would they be marooned on a dead planet?”

“Because Mars hasn’t always been dead. The Northern Hemisphere held Oceanus Borealis, the Paleo Ocean. It covered a third of the surface. There’s also strong evidence that Mars had a warm, dense atmosphere. Leaving behind a contingent of observers wouldn’t have appeared to be a problem. In fact, for a long time, it wasn’t. Then something huge nearly collided with Mars, stripping its atmosphere away and letting the oceans boil away into space. It wouldn’t have happened overnight, so the survivors would have fallen into panic, despair, and finally barbarism. The rest of the Solar system would have been in turmoil as well. If it happened sixty-five million years ago, it would explain the acceleration of dinosaur extinction on Earth. There’s even a chance that the something might have struck the moon of Venus, propelling it into a new Solar orbit, and laid on the planet a cataclysmic impact so destructive, it reversed the planet’s rotation…”

Judas hadn’t said a word and Paolo could see that for an instant, he’d grasped the vision. He suddenly shook his head violently, “Sheer speculation! I’d have used another ‘s’ word, but I gave up cussing for Lent.” He snorted, adding, “A pretty picture, I must say. But pure fantasy…”

Paolo added before he could nod in self-satisfaction, “Which happens to explain a whole lot of things. Including the Solar Explorer mission.”

Judas scowled. “We have more immediate problems – outside of recent history and ancient history. The mind police will be looking for you and they’ve already marked some of our Church members. They’ll be tagged again and some brought in for questioning.” He paused, adding, “They don’t question Burroughs citizens like they question citizens of Opportunity. Here, they use lead pipes.”

Paolo shuddered. “I’m sorry. There’s really only one thing to do, then.”

“What’s that?”

He walked down the corridor and popped the hatch again, saying, “I turn myself in.”


No comments: