October 11, 2018

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 133: DaneelAH & Company

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 (They are HanAH, the security expert (m); DaneelAH, xenoarchaeologist (m); AzAH, language expert (f); MishAH, pattern recognition (f).) – 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 (100,000+ words as of now), drop me a line and I’ll send you the unedited version.

QuinnAH, Stepan Izmaylova’s sycophant – possibly disciple – peeked around DaneelAH, AzAH, and MishAH at HanAH and said, “Have a nice trip. We’ll meet you at Port Exit.” He started walking back into the warehouse. HanAH didn’t follow him.

The other three did, turning their backs on him.

HanAH glared, looked into the distance, cursed and follow them inside. He started when the boy stepped next to him from the shadows. “Following the herd, eh?”

“Shut up and move.” HanAH was certain he heard the boy snicker and raised his hand threateningly.

DaneelAH stopped as AzAH and MishAH kept on. He said in a low voice, “Hating him is like hating ourselves. He’s more like you than any of the rest of us.”

“What?” HanAH exclaimed. His blurt echoed from the distant walls of the warehouse. “I’m nothing…”

DaneelAH shook his head and walked away, leaving HanAH to stare after the group. For an instant, HanAH considered making his own way out of Burroughs, wondered how his vat mates could possibly survive without him and lengthened his stride. “I’m nothing like that brat,” he muttered, at the same time wondering at the weakness of his rebuttal.

They headed to the rear of the warehouse again, but instead of taking the stairs up, the boy led them into what had once been an office. At the back of it was another door, unconcealed and obvious. “Obviously a trap,” muttered HanAH.

QuinnAH shot him a look, eyes appreciative even though he smirked. Instead of the door, the jumped and slapped the wall near the ceiling. With the grinding of stone on stone, a door in the wall, at the base where the floor met it, lifted up while the floor itself sank down and to one side. “The mouth leads to the throat. There’s only one way to go – it’s too narrow to turn around in. It’ll bring you out in the HOD.”

“The ‘hood’?” AzAH said.

“HOD – the Home Owner’s District. It’s where Martians can own their own places. They can afford it while most everyone else can’t.” He stepped back. “Just keep going…”

“Why do we trust you?” said HanAH suddenly.

QuinnAH shook his head, smirking, “I sure wouldn’t trust me, so I know what you mean.”

HanAH glanced down the hole, then dropped down. “Let’s go.”

DaneelAH frowned, “We’re going?”

HanAH looked up at him. “If he’d made a smart aleck comment; if he’d said anything else but what he did, we’d be taking our chances with the riot.” As if to emphasize the point, the volume of the mob increased.

“I’ll lead you,” said QuinnAH suddenly.

“What?” said HanAH, AzAH, and MishAH at the same time.

DaneelAH smirked this time then said, “These two have been playing on each other. Quinn had not intention of sending us on our way alone, but he needed to know we’re not ‘the bad guys’. Han had no intention of leading us, but he needed to know if Quinn was legitimate. The kid knows how to get us to Exit Port and get back here fast and invisibly.”

The two – young and old – laughed, then Quinn said, “Let’s go. The mob’s almost here.”

“What about Stepan?” DaneelAH said.

“Like I said, he’s a big boy. If he can’t talk the crazies down from a suicidal riot, then he ain’t who he says he is. Fact? He don’t serve this god he’s talkin’ about – it’s as ‘maginary as U-fee.” He slithered into the hole.

HanAh gestured to AzAH, then DaneelAH, then MishAH. He looked up to the roof. He couldn’t see Stepan, but knew he was watching. He whispered, “Good luck…” he snorted, changing his invocation, “Your God protect you and go with you, Sir.” He followed the others. A moment later, the wall door and the floor hatch closed. There was a puff of air, and the dust they’d disturbed was evenly sprayed over the exit, and it was gone.


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