October 25, 2018

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 134: Stepan of 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 (100,000+ words as of now), drop me a line and I’ll send you the unedited version.

“Sorry. I forget you’re not a normal person,” QuinnAH, an artificial boy who may or may not have become a Christian convert, hung his head,

Stepan Izmaylova laughed and stood up. Gently toeing the rigidly frozen spacesuit, he said, “We have to move this, probably bag it up, and send it to DaneelAH and his vatmates. They have the cetacean spacesuit now, and one of them has access to a Virtual Reality unit that fits it. I have no doubt that there are other artifacts scattered over Mars.” He pursed his lips then leaned down to QuinnAH, “And I think something big is brewing on Mars. Something that will change everything on the Red Planet.”

“You mean like what your god did to Earth?”

Stepan met his defiant gaze then slowly nodded, saying, “He did change Earth. But people grabbed what he said, twisted it and used it for personal gain.” He sighed. “It’s what Humans do as easily as breathing.”

“Ain’t only Humans do that,” Quinn muttered, then squatted, staring at the suit. “You want me to help you carry it down?”

Stepan sniffed, sneezed, then said, “Yeah,” Quinn reached out and Stepan said, “Hang on.” Quinn didn’t move. A moment of thought later, he said, “I think we’d better get a body bag and put the suit. Then we can move it down to the office…”

“…an’ hide it.”

Stepan raised an eyebrow then nodded, “You have Rim-stincts.”

“You bet your…” he paused, looked up at Stepan in the dim light, and revised his exclamation, “Backside I have ‘em. If I didn’t, I’d be dead now.” He raised both eyebrows, “You’d be dead now.”

“Good point. Do you know where the place has…”

“…body bags? Yeah.” He started down the stairs, halted and said, “I’ll get ‘em. I don’t want you getting hurt coming up and down these things, they’re liable to…” The step he was standing on snapped with a crack like an old-fashioned rifle. The lower gravity of Mars – about four tenths that of Earth – made him fall in slightly slower motion. Slow enough that Stepan had just enough time to lay spread-eagle on the remaining steps and grab the boy’s hand as he fell. Quinn screamed as Stepan’s grip tightened like a vise and kept him from falling through.

Stepan cried out, “Grab the edge with both hands!”

A scrabbling few moments later, the boy had done as he’d been asked and started to pull himself out of the void beneath the steps. After what seemed like an eternity to both, he sat beside Stepan back up on the landing, their knees pressed together. His gasping breaths were loud in the enclosed space and after a few moments began to stutter. Stepan put his arm around Quinn, conscious that the boy was not Human in the eyes of the Dome. Conscious that he’d never before touched an Artificial Human to comfort them. Conscious as well at the same moment of his own, appalling bias. His prejudice against artificial life. At first Quinn shrugged him off, but even as his shoulder jerked, he grabbed Stepan’s hand and held it in a crushing grip. His voice shuddered as he said, “I wasn’t afraid.”

“I know. You’re a tough young man. Nothing scares you.”

There was a long pause then Quinn began to shake, exactly as if he were crying. Stepan didn’t move, just keeping his arm lightly across the boy’s shoulders – as if he could move his arm, the grip Quinn held him with as hard as his own when he’d grabbed the blue hand just before it vanished into whatever lay at the bottom of the darkness. Finally, Quinn said, “Nothin’.”

“Good. It’s best to ignore all of the scary things in your life. That way they can’t…”

Quinn turned, through his arms round Stepan and began to sob, squirming until he sat on Stepan’s lap. The pastor didn’t pat him, or murmur, or do anything but hold him tight. As the sobs decreased and Quinn wiped his very Human, snotty nose on Stepan’s shirt, he finally said, “Good thing I didn’t fall all th’ way, huh.”

“A really good thing.”

Long pause. “‘Cause if I’d-a-died, I couldn’t o’ told you that I think I’m gonna follow your God.”

Stepan didn’t leap to his feet to thank his God. Instead, he held his breath, counted to ten then said, “Yep, then. It was a good thing. Should we go back up to the roof and take the disk down like we came up?”

Quinn wiped his nose on Stepan one more time, then stood up – though he held tightly to the pastor’s hand – and said, “Smart man. You learn quick. Make a Rimmer of you yet, I think.” They walked up the stairs, hand-in-hand, reached the stop, stepped lightly along the edge of the roof, then lowered themselves to the floor of the warehouse.

Outside, the sounds of riot were growing louder. Quinn said, “You hide inna office. I’m gone go out there and see what’s up.”

“Not through the door!”

“Duh, preacher-man! I got my ways.” He threw both arms around Stepan, adding, “You hide. There’s a little door under the third window over. Push in, slide right. Go in. It’s tight, but it’ll keep you safe ‘til I get back. I whistle comin’ in, then knock twice, stop and knock once.” Stepan didn’t move. “Go, man!”

Stepan cleared his throat, “I’ll run as fast as I can as soon as you let go of me.” Quinn did, and Stepan ran.


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