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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