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 and I’m sorry, but a number of them
got deleted from the blog – 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.
In her personal life on Mars, Aster
Theilen, former office pool, current Consort of Mayor-for-Life, his
Excellency Etaraxis Ginunga-Gap, had not seen
lots of evidence of the greatness of Humanity without the immaterial. After
meeting her father’s – literally – underground Church – she’d come to the
surface to find that an entourage was waiting for her. Consisting
of a group of blue Artificial Humans dressed in dark blue business tunics
and pants, led by an elderly male, who had introduced himself as BondAH. She
said, “Where is my Consort?”
“Waiting for you in his office,” said
BondAH.
“His office?”
“Yes, your Grace.”
Aster scowled. The office was for
business – his home office, obviously – and despite the fact that he had a
perfectly good office there, complete with staff, he often worked from the
Pylon. He’d just never invited HER to his office in the Pylon. “Why does he
want me here?”
“I do not know, your Grace.”
“Cut the ‘your Grace’, stuff, Master
BondAH.”
“I will ‘cut the your Grace, stuff’,
when you cut the Master stuff, ma’am.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Fine. I’ll
call you Master, and you can call me ‘your Grace.”
BondAH stopped, touched the door chime
and stepped back as it slid open. “The Mayor awaits you, your Grace.”
She
stepped through the door and took the lift to the top, feeling the shift
underneath her several times as it slid sideways. Holding her breath, she tried
to figure the best way to approach him. She’d never really done anything that
he might disagree with, though he might have forbidden her to sponsor the
Orphan’s Ball. He’d thought “shaking things up” a good idea. She was, however,
fairly sure that what she was planning would go beyond what he expected.
On
the other hand…the lift door slid open.
He was standing with his back to her – a bad sign – looking out over the Opportunity Dome. It was a clear view of the raw landscape of Mars. Though softer today than it had been a hundred years ago when the First Colonists had landed, it was still not an environment to be trifled with. Humans still lost their lives on the surface, and disaster was only a large puncture away. The cool, moist air Humanity had grown to some form a maturity in, was several thousand kilometers away; the dry, thin air of Mars – at an air pressure that, even today at ten kilopascals, it was still less than ten percent of Earth’s air pressure. It was also remained primarily carbon dioxide, though now the argon, neon, nitrogen, and molecular oxygen content had increased appreciably. Even so, Humans were a long, long time from being able to cavort freely on the surface. As if he’d been reading her thoughts, Etaraxis said, “It’s different than it was, but not different enough.” He turned to her, smiled faintly, and added, “Good to see you, again, Aster.”
She
nodded, smiling a bit as well. He wasn’t a horrible man, certainly not the
Anti-Christ her father sometimes muttered about. Aster would have given that appellation
to vo’Maddux. “You as, well, Etar.” They both sniffed at the play on their
names. She offered him her hand, he kissed her chastely on the cheek, then he
slipped his arm around her waist.
He
said, “My…dog…tells me you are plotting my downfall.”
Not
surprised by his gambit, she said, “How many accusations does this make since
you asked me to the Pylon?”
He
snorted outright this time. “Your steadfastness continues to catch me off
guard, Madame Consort!” He shook his head, “You have no idea how badly that
woman frightened the others.”
“I
have a very good idea, thank you. She terrifies me,” Aster said without looking
at the Mayor. The austerity of Mars, which she usually took for granted – if she
noticed it at all – sometimes took her breath away. “This world is an excellent
metaphor.”
“For
what?”
“vo’Maddux’
soul. Dry. Cracked. Singular. Unbroken.”
Etaraxis
grunted then said, “Could you be a little more specific, Dear?”
She
shot him a look, noted that he was teasing her, then said, “Of course I’ve been
to the underground. If I’m going to be your consort and have a say in what
happens in this Dome – as well as keep an ear to the ground – then I need to
wander our home freely.”
“It’s
dangerous…”
“Mars
is dangerous, dear Consort. Every inch of it not covered with Dome is
dangerous. The parts that are covered are ten times more dangerous because they
can lull you into thinking everything is safe and sound.”
He
turned to her this time, then gently turned her to face him. “You’ve heard
something. I know that… ‘know-it-all’ tone in your voice.”
“I
don’t have…” then she stopped. Her father had said the same thing to her once,
when she was young and wanted to move out of his Church. She sighed. “I do. And
I do.”
“You’ve
heard that particular accusation before.”
“My
father.”
“Wise
man to turn you lose before you destroyed yourself!” He paused then said, “What
have you heard?”
“There’s
a snake loose in your paradise, Dear Consort.”
“vo’Maddux
can’t…”
“Not
her. She’s more like the bull in the china shop.”
“The
what?”
“Doesn’t
matter – an old Earth saying Dad would toss at me when I got overly enthusiastic
about something and didn’t understand exactly what I was doing.”
Etaraxis
nodded slowly. “So, this snake?”
“Nothing
certain yet, but my source seems to think that it will strike soon – and it
will strike here.”
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