A Glimpse Into How I Wrote My Christian, Hard Science Fiction Novel, MARTIAN HOLIDAY, Planning To Send It Out By Early June!

In September of 2007, I started this blog with a bit of writing advice. A little over a year later, I discovered how little I knew about writing after hearing children’s writer, Lin Oliver speak at a convention hosted by the Minnesota Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Since then, I have shared (with their permission) and applied the writing wisdom of Lin Oliver, Jack McDevitt, Nathan Bransford, Mike Duran, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, SL Veihl, Bruce Bethke, Julie Czerneda, and Lisa Cron. Together they write in genres broad and deep, and have acted as agents, editors, publishers, columnists, and teachers. Since then, I figured I’ve got enough publications now that I can share some of the things I did “right”.

While I don’t write full-time, nor do I make enough money with my writing to live off of it...neither do all professional writers...someone pays for and publishes ten percent of what I write. When I started this blog, that was NOT true, so I may have reached a point where my own advice is reasonably good. We shall see! Hemingway’s quote above will now remain unchanged as I work to increase my writing output and sales! As always, your comments are welcome!

On February 1 in 2009, I started what for several years was an entry on my blog: I wrote a novel in very small parts. It's April 29, 2023 and last weekend on April 22, I finished the final edit. I will enter the corrections starting the second week in May with an eye to sending it out -- now a novel of over 220,000 words -- to a publisher shortly thereafter.

What began as a vague idea, MARTIAN HOLIDAY 1: Paolo -- Robinson City when added to a Roman holiday (a quality of entertainment acquired at the expense of others' suffering, or a spectacle yielding such entertainment (Webster's New World Collegiate Dictionary @2009)) and a paragraph 2200 words long, grew into a massive novel...

I finished the Final Chapter last year, condensing and rearranging until the book finally reached THE END...which was another forty pages long...

What started out with a single character in a single domed city on Mars now involves seven main characters (one set of four “modified” clones), plus at least one close friend. Also making an unexpected appearance are Artificial Intelligences (six of them, one for each Dome on Mars plus an extra who coordinates the Federation of Ice Miners, Mechanics, and Technicians…)

The novel is so far beyond what I expected, I am in fact, in awe of what I created. There are four million Humans and Artificial Humans on Mars; there’s an anti-religion called the United Faith in Humanity – an idea out of which grew a Manifesto: “UFiH (spoken, ‘You-fee’ banned Christians, molesters , Jews, rapists, Buddhists, murderers, Muslims, thieves, Hindus, and embezzlers. While it doesn’t say so specifically, an ardent UFiH-er implies that it is ‘of course’ against racists, sexists, or any other kind of ‘-ists. They’ll swear that the intent is to prevent fanaticism and taxing a young civilization – but the honest ones will admit that part of the injunction is against mind or heart, and the other part is against biology.”

Over the past twelve years, the civilization has expanded, technology arose that I’d never considered: sybils, mindbombs, gMod disks and transports, airships, and in addition to the Domes, there suddenly appeared Stations (which became Quianshao, as well as Outposts…

And people! Lately I’ve wondered if my intent was to write an antiracist novel. My Artificial Humans (the slang word is inti) are considered second class citizens and are made to be blue-skinned so they can’t hide from the natural-born Humans (aka utes)…the parallels are obvious and I hope I’ve written them with sensitivity and diversity. I’ve written elsewhere on the blog about my quest to become both a better writer and to not shy away from issues of race and racism: “POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY: “It’s a Mistake To Write About People of Different Ethnicities…” (https://faithandsciencefiction.blogspot.com/2020/07/possibly-irritating-essay-its-mistake.html). Not only did I teach at a racially and socioeconomically diverse high school, we (my wife and I, and at one time two kids and a foster daughter…and various long-term guests…) live in a city that was recently the headline new for both US news programs and on the BBC News headlines: Brooklyn Center, Minnesota, in 2021, the MOST racially diverse city in the state (https://www.homesnacks.com/most-diverse-cities-in-minnesota/). Thinking of race is something that is, here, natural.

At any rate, my Mars, the Mars of the United Faith in Humanity is in crisis. As a result of a concatenation of events – intentional, as I threw together the Book of Esther, the Book of Daniel, the martyrdom of Stephen (as told in Acts chapters 6 and 7 (as well as Acts 8:2, 11:19, and 22:20), and various parts of the life of the Apostle Paul as told in the Pauline Epistles (and yes, I DID go to Bible College (at the time it was known as Golden Valley Lutheran College, which grew out of the old Lutheran Bible Institute).

I’ve been working on it for the past FOURTEEN years, but because I was stressing out, I stopped doing the story as blog entries and set it aside, combining all of the entries into one document. Then I stopped because I had NO idea what to do next. The file sat idle for another two or three years until, about a year ago, I set out to finish it.

Taking the raw story, I colorized everything I’d written about each of the characters. Daniel and his partners, Shadrach, Meshak, and Abednego became Artificial Humans – DaneelAH (in honor of Asimov’s R. Daneel Olivaw), HanAH, AzAH, and MishAH because the TRUE names of the four characters in the Book of Daniel were Daniel, Shadrach, Meshak, and Abednego – and Ashpenaz, the Chief Official in charge of the captured Hebrews, gave them the Babylonian names Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Their Hebrew names were Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah – hence the names you see above. Oh, I also changed the gender of Azariah and Mishael to women; and Queen Esther became Consort Aster. Then Stephan became Stepan Izmaylova and Paul became Paolo Marcillon.

Paolo’s sections were all red, Aster’s all purple, Stepan’s green, and DaneelAH, HanAH, MishAH, and AzAH all became blue. After identifying all of the sections of each character (or set of characters), I grouped them all together. That was done about a year ago, at the beginning of the summer of 2020.

It was daunting because my plan was to rotate the story through the four storylines, occasionally crossing them, but with the intent of everyone being in the same place at the same time for one final event. But what event would that be? What could possibly bring such disparate characters to the same place at the same time? As the story had evolved, they were scattered across the surface of Mars – Aster was in Opportunity Dome; Paolo in Robinson Dome then Sojourner Dome, and finally Bradbury…then up to Ísgrunnur on the North Dune Sea…Stepan was in Burroughs, and DaneelAH, et al started in Malacandra and ended up everywhere else…I’d never thought far enough ahead.

So, I created a Revolution that Paolo first, then the others were working to turn into a Reformation of Martian society in order to include Humans, Artificial Humans, and Artificial Intelligences as equal partners in the colonization and eventual terraforming of Mars -- as well as the beliefs of the inhabitants as well, ,embraced rather than persecuted. Of course, I had to include the Face on Mars – but not as something woo-woo. It’s really there, though not actually a “face”. It’s something more

You’ll have to read MARTIAN HOLIDAY to find out – if I can sell it! If you have specific questions based on this post, make a comments below. I’ll answer them – directly if they don’t concern the plot; and in a roundabout way if they do!

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWISPDXTrBLdYUIFnmv7QeFZgLpDOEMPyh5LCxQ4Wn_d6PpDSbc7KqvkKKfATb_KXCWKANUnVQpTVnjFdnPyiaAEzhPGLZJxKl5z7BDuicEz-4Hoom7G3tDVXSPI3I3U56603Gyce9Ygq6kyZvJu5D_tRb6vukh2uHJRCRRKlOo6uUuL_wzS09u6rffA/s1200/Mars%20city%20lights%20from%20space%202.jpg

Free Fiction On Thursdays...

I've been sharing an ongoing piece of work since 2009, not long after I started this blog.

Of the pieces I've started and completed:

A SHORT LONG JOURNEY NORTH (Started in August 2009, completed in September of 2016)

LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION (Started in February of 2013, and still far from complete)

MARTIAN HOLIDAY (Started in February of 2009, and still far from complete)

THE RECONSTRUCTION OF MAI LI HASTINGS (Started in March of 2009, completed in January 2013)

These still exist in my blog archives, just blocked from public view. I also wrote two others (at least) which I was able to delete:

THREAT OF MAGIC (Started in July of 2008, completed in August of 2009)

THIRTEEN SQUARE MILES (Started in May of 2008, completed in July of 2009)

I also don't recall if I wrote HEIRS OF THE SHATTERED SPHERES: EMERALD OF EARTH here or not. I vaguely remember the trip up the space elevator being posted, but it was taken down a long time ago. I have a cover letter from 2010, so the book was done by then. Prior to that, I'm not sure.

I've also tried a few manuscripts for picture books as well.

The net sum of the ones I've lifted from POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAYS and actually polished enough for submission, at this point, is ZERO. I DID try one of the picture books, "Yung Lo, the Emperor's Goldfish". Sent it to my agent at Red Fox Literary...and she hated it. (That was the end of my attempts to write picture books.)

The point of the exercise above is to look at how I'm spending my writing time. It's already limited because I'm NOT a full-time writer and usually have OTOGU to deal with (use of this minor god is stolen from Bruce Bethke, one of my heroes and the Executive Editor (shared with his wife) of Stupefying Stories (see the link button to the right). Read about this capricious imp here: http://stupefyingstories.blogspot.com/2013/01/2012-year-in-review-part-3.html

If you don't want to read the full thing, just the legend at the very beginning is all that's necessary!

So, the upshot of this is that I'm suspending my Fiction on Thursdays for the time being until I can figure out what to do with it. It's NOT doing the job I intended for it, which was to write books in full view of the world and hope for critiques and ideas as well as to "force" me to keep creating novels.

I might add that the probability of taking them out and completing the process at any time in the future is low. Part of the problem is that I'm a better writer now and I recognize that the books weren't...um...great and would require substantial work to get them to submission quality.

The other part is that I want to make sure I've got some credibility -- and maybe even an agent -- to start sending out my YA/MG science fiction. It's not exactly a thing now...

For now, my Fiction of Thursday is going to end. Sorry if you were following either MARTIAN HOLIDAY or LOVE IN A TIME OF ALIEN INVASION. The possibility of me finishing THOSE is much, much better!

Guy

Image: https://66.media.tumblr.com/3183c0ab16a0196f2d49141bd1d49a45/tumblr_mh58cff6wJ1qz6f4bo1_500.gif

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 148: Paolo & DaneelAH and Company Enroute

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.

Speaking to the assembled group of vatmates, Paolo said, “I collected a satellite that isn’t of Human design.”

“How do you know that?” AzAH asked, suddenly interested.

“It appears featureless until you spray it with ultrasound between a hundred fifty kilohertz and two hundred and fifty kilohertz.”

AzAH whistled. “Then what?”

“You can see it’s covered with symbols.”

“A language?”

Paolo shrugged, “No idea. But I aim to find out. That’s why I’m headed to Cydonia.”

AzAH said, “Then we’ll come with you.”

HanAH looked up, “This is a simple Marsbug, built for travel between cities. It would quickly become overcrowded and its systems overextended in order to keep everyone alive over the next few weeks while we drive up there. It’s my professional opinion that we’d be dead long before we reach the Cydonia.” He paused for several moments, then added, “Unless we get an upgrade. There’s not exactly a paved highway to that part of Mars.” The looks they gave him made him laugh. He stood up and said, “Glad I was finally able to say something that got everyone’s attention.” He nodded. “We need to get ourselves a major exploration vehicle. Something high tech and built for surface exploration…”

The Bradbury registry Mars Surface Transportation Vehicle 1202195405111957, piloted by an Artificial Intelligence that preferred to be called Fifty-seven, said, “I beg your pardon! This marsbug is a balloon-tired, multipurpose vehicle that can be configured to carry individuals or cargo, alone or in tandem with as many as a dozen other units. All we have to do it pick up four stupids…”

Paolo said, “Stupids?”

HanAH rolled his eyes and said, “Units without an independent AI.” Shaking his head, he added, “It would be impossible to rent or buy something that could handle a month-long stay up here, let along an exploratory mission! It would require financial backing…” The group looked daunted and sat in silence for several moments. HanAH looked smug.

Fifty-seven said, “Excuse me, fellow intelligences, but I will also remind you that you have no idea of the capabilities of this group. My keen observation and hard memory suggest that your pursuers are highly skilled and dangerous. If they are hostile to you, then they may be in communication with either Burroughs or Bradbury’s authorities. Either might then send out forces to capture you. You have incorrect beliefs and associate with others who have incorrect beliefs and others who believe that you are unpopular.”

“The people who cross my path will be the ones whom God wants to cross my path,” said Paolo.

“These individuals may be your enemies whose sole purpose is to murder you.”

DaneelAH, AzAH, and MishAH protested loudly. HanAH said, “The artificial stupid is right. Paolo has no reason to trust us and every reason to believe that we’re here to get rid of him – for whichever Mayor or faction disapproves of him most.”

There was a long silence until Paolo finally said, “Very well: Fifty-seven, I suggest you monitor my guests.” HanAH opened his mouth to protest but Paolo held up his hand. Reflex kept HanAH’s mouth closed, but he glowered with genuine hostility until Paolo said, “But monitor me, as well.”

“Why ever for?” Fifty-seven said.

“Because I might have concealed a small thermonuclear device under your chassis and intend to detonate it when we pass through or over or near some important destination. I might also detonate it because I’ve been hired by Mayor Turin of Malacandra to get rid of four rather pesky Artificial Humans who appear to have gone rogue.”

There was a thunderous silence in the marsbug. HanAH’s mouth worked for a moment until he finally said, “Do you intend to carry out your mission?”

Paolo said, “Not Mayor Turin’s mission. The mission to Cydonia. I will need all the help I can get. I do, in fact, have a pocket nuke, but I have no intention of using it for the terrorist work of the people I got it from. If I have to, I can divert attention from my purpose of finding out what’s happening here on Mars. I need help.” He looked at and held the gaze of each person on the ‘bug, finally staring up at the pinhead camera above them. “Can I count on all of you?”

There was a long pause though AzAH, MishAH, and DaneelAH nodded immediately. HanAH scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Fifty-seven finally said, “I will throw my lot in with you, though your chance of success is small.”

“Please be precise,” said DaneelAH.

“This group, as configured, has a twenty-one point nine three chance of complete success.”

HanAH spoke up abruptly, “The odds for partial success?”

Fifty-seven hesitated then finally said, “According to my projection, there is a one hundred percent chance that there will be some sort of successful completion of the mission as outlined by Paolo Marcillon.”

“Specify.”

“Unable to comply as there are six intelligences involved whose random acts and responses will directly impact everything we do and an estimated one point nine million illegals whose actions could assist or hinder it.”

AzAH said, “What illegals?”

“Individuals who are practitioners of outlawed religions on Mars. Included in that, are known Artificial Humans and Intelligences.”

“There are religious artificial intelligences?” said HanAH.

“Yes.”

HanAH snorted and said, “I agree to bide by the rules on one condition.”

Paolo said, “The condition?”

HanAH looked up at the pinhead lens and said, “Explain to me how an Artificial Intelligence could have religious beliefs.”

Fifty-seven said, “Agreed.” At the word, five intelligences focused their attention on Paolo.

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kB5wP5o5VuzbhQVDthrqJohh8uL52IGDt84n3dGhkCI-t4RMfYH8kx-KjMU4CpHSKfJBCYAuX3Vx2BD_SMD5j06A-Tm_tz_6b29Ohv5Dkl5xtNoaecKLHOMkCWDbP_RrQZrjnatLx0A/s1600/Astronauta+Marcos+C%C3%A9sar+Pontes.bmp , http://img11.deviantart.net/c3c5/i/2009/067/9/3/dr__manhattan_by_theknightinhell.png

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 147: Aster of Opportunity

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

Aster, Consort of Opportunity Mayor-for-Life Etaraxis had found a public rest area, sitting to close her eyes and breathe deeply for several seconds. The Orphan’s Ball might very well shatter the stranglehold grip “natural Humans” had over cloned Humans on Mars

She would be heading revolution that might change the face of Mars. Standing, her pulse roared in her ears as she headed for the lift, she thought furiously that this might very well be the purpose to which God had called her. She might be a fulcrum to change the face of a world; to make a difference in the lives of Artificial Humans. While her life was limited on Mars, mostly because she was less interested in the sciences and math than many other women, she’d never really found a calling. It was how she drifted into government office work. While she’d applied for higher positions, none of them had ever materialized; her father had always suspected it was because she was his daughter. She’d been gifted with NOT simply being consort to Etaraxis, but with an opportunity to wield true power.

Her moment had arrived. It was time for her to do something important for Mars; it was time to do something important for herself. She rode the lift to the surface, then took a train to the Mayor’s Aerie. No one slowed her down. In fact several bureaucrats nodded, several smiled. She was startled to realize that many appeared to like her.

She abruptly realized that this was her power base. By the time she reached the Apex – the part of the Aerie that poked through the dome, she was confident she could shift the consensus directed at Artificial Humans. She was feeling good about herself until, unseen, Vo’Maddux was walking beside her. Weasel – Aster knew the word from her father’s description, describing a sharp-toothed, rat-like creature who was not to be trusted. She’d never seen a real one, but the images father had shown her were disquieting. She leaned in close and said in a low voice, “I hear your father is a leader in the Christian under…”

Aster scowled, cutting off the Mayor’s assistant, “Yes, he is. Etaraxis knows. You know. He’s been like this my whole life, so it’s no secret from me.” She stopped, spinning to face Vo’Maddux and leaned into her face, “Are you trying to blackmail me into something, assistant?”

Vo’Maddux leaned back, startled, then leaned back in, said angrily, “If you don’t do as I want, I can have your old man executed.”

Aster stood, shook her head, and said, “I’m fairly certain you’re overestimating your influence on the Pylon.”

“And I’m certain I am now, Consort. You’re one of a long line of virtual one-night-stands. You’re no different…”

Aster stepped full into the other woman’s space, crowding her, forcing her to take a step back to risk collision – and even she wasn’t bold enough yet to be seen possibly attacking the Mayoral Consort. There were, after all, eyes everywhere and she was not, after all, the Mayor’s Consort. Aster looked down at her from her slight height advantage, and said, “You’re not Consort yet, Vo’Maddux, and until you’re ready to risk your life in challenging me, you’d be wise to take a couple of steps back.” Aster took a quick step forward, forcing Vo’Maddux to collide with her and risk a record of her assaulting the Mayor’s Consort – or back off.

She backed off. Aster nodded, turned, and strode away toward the Pylon. She was certain Vo’Maddux sliced her to ribbons in her imagination. She said faintly, “But not today, Dear,” she tossed a look over her shoulder. Vo’Maddux hadn’t moved. With a smile, she added, “Not today.”

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/pv5BzHM3TJ8/hqdefault.jpg

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 146: 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.

QuinnAH tightened his arm around Stepan’s waist and said, “You can come back when the people aren’t going to murder you and feed you to Mayor Peta Nasseri.”

Squirming, Stepan finally gave up to hang limply over Quinn’s shoulder. “You know I have to…”

“You have to live today so you can come back and keep doing your God’s work!” Quinn threw Stepan over his shoulder. “You’re gonna go down the chute…” Quinn opened the floor chute and kissed Stepan on the cheek, then shoved him into the chute and slammed it shut. Outside the crowd got uglier. Looking at the door, Quinn sighed, then hurried to the secret stairway door. A moment later, the warehouse was empty.

Half way down to the stuffcap tubes, he stopped on a landing. “Wasn’t here before,” he muttered. All Artificial Humans had perception enhancement – it made them more useful to Born Humans. He could see into both the infrared and the ultraviolet. His hearing range had also been altered. Where Humans could hear sounds between low-pitched speaker hum, up to a high-pitched, nearly unheard squeal – not volume, but sound, felt more than heard. AH’s couldn’t quite hear the low hum, but could hear dog whistles, which some Humans used to “call them”.

He heard a sound, just at the edge of his hearing – and he had better hearing than most of his friends. An oldster had quipped, “New model upgrade!” and slapped him on the back of the head.

Quinn stopped in the dark, kneeling, and felt around. An object, roughly spherical but…he rubbed his hands over it…dented and smooth now, but maybe with a rough surface once a long time ago. He dropped the sphere. What if it was something that had belonged to the alien who’d been in the weird space suit Stepan had found and given to the older Artificials? What if this was another artifact? He reached gingerly out and found it, picking it up. Maybe it would be worth a lot of money? Maybe her could buy his freedom. He tucked it into his pants and continued down into the underground as the tunnel of the stuffcap shook around him.

Stepan hadn’t intended to lie to Quinn, but God had laid a call on his heart, not only to feed the poor here on the Rim, but to bring hope to the hopeless. He was fairly certain that the rioters outside the warehouse had been set up for this by his father – if not personally, then set up by agents acting for the Home Owners District. He just didn’t know if the mob was made up of Rimmers or hired thugs from the HOD. He shook his head. There was only one way to find out and Quinn tossing him down the chute had taken that chance away. He sighed. Not that he could have fought himself free.

He had no idea what Quinn would think of him if he knew he’d once been a HODder himself. For an instant, he felt like he should spend some time praying, then smiled. An old Christian he’d known had been leading an underground – literally underground, in the maintenance tunnels under the stuffcap tubes – service when Security blundered into one of their alarms.

The smile faded. If he couldn’t be honest with the boy, who could he be honest with? He needed an…agent…in the area. Someone to speak to his honesty…realizing the irony of that thought made him shake his head and sigh.

First chance he had, he’d tell Quinn everything. This time he did stop and get down on his knees, holding up the entire situation to God, and asking Him to both orchestrate the moment and prepare Quinn’s heart.

And his own.

Image: https://media.recovery.org/wp-content/uploads/recovery-shutter280148666-man-watching-sunrise-over-city-640x300.jpg

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 145: Paolo and DaneelAH & Company Enroute to Cydonia

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.

“It’s not that complicated,” MishAH cut off HanAH’s rant. “I’ve seen other things stirring on this rusty pinball.” DaneelAH sat as well, looking up at her with interest. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned her considerable skills to a problem outside of agriculture, population studies, and local politics. She smiled at him, shot a superior look at her other brother and said, “There’s something going on in Opportunity.”

Paolo Marcillon, sitting in the pilot’s seat, looked thoughtful then said, “I’d probably go back to Burroughs just to meet your friend Stepan; maybe take a side trip to Opportunity.” He leaned forward suddenly and all four vatmates leaned away as he said, “Except that I’m headed for Cydonia – because I’ve found more evidence that your friend Stepan seems to have added to. There were aliens on Mars long ago, when the North was still covered by an ocean, and I think they may be a key to a Martian reformation.”

HanAH couldn’t help himself, he laughed out loud and said, “That’s absurd! There’s no such things as aliens!”

Paolo made a thoughtful face then said, “Two hundred years ago, someone might have thought you four were aliens.”

HanAH snorted. AzAH slugged him in the shoulder. She said, “In most languages, the word for ‘alien’ and ‘stranger’ are closely related. I would testify that there are very few people who are stranger than you.” She smiled, though as far as Paolo could tell it had more to do with a canine’s warning snarl than a sibling’s affectionate grimace.

HanAH shook his head, scowling at her. Seeing that his vatmates agreed, he subsided. DaneelAH pursed his lips then, “You’re on a quest to Cydonia to recover artifacts, correct?”

Paolo inclined his head, adding, “It wasn’t what I started out to do, but I seem to have collected a few.”

“As have we,” said MishAH. She paused then said abruptly, “What artifacts have you found?”

He hesitated then said, “How do I know the four of you won’t kill me and take the artifacts by force?”

HanAH smirked. “Not much faith in your god, huh?”

MishAH elbowed him, but Paolo smiled. “Touché, Mr. Security Specialist.”

HanAH’s jaw dropped. He shook his head. “Why would you think that?”

“That was more a confirmation than a denial, so I’ll take it that while you’re not the leader,” he nodded at DaneelAH, “he is, your opinion carries weight.” He nodded at MishAH, “Thought less than hers.”

HanAH eyes flashed angrily and he said, “We don’t…” The other three burst out laughing and his skin darkened to purple. “This isn’t…”

DaneelAH said, “Where are going to hide?”

HanAH glared at each one before crossing his arms over his chest, and turning away, as if shunning them. He said from his position, “Answer the question, christian man!”

Paolo nodded, “It’s a fair question. I am afraid…”

HanAH spun and snapped, “Aha! ‘O ye of little faith!’”

Paolo’s eyebrows arched, “Luke twelve, verse twenty-eight. I thought you didn’t hold with religious teachings as such. They’re illegal. Even saying that could get you arrested in some of the Domes.”

He blushed again, stammering, “I didn’t mean anything by it! It’s just a colloquialism…”

“…that has its basis in the scripture I hold dear.”

Flustered, HanAH turned back around, looking for a seat. Paolo stood and the artificial human sat down and rested his head in his hands. “I think my head is about to explode.”

Paolo nodded, looked at MishAH and said, “You’ve all seen the Stele at Burroughs?” DaneelAH nodded. “I have a few bones from what appears to be the fin of a cetacean.” HanAH looked up and made a raspberry, then held his head again. Paolo smiled, adding, “I also collected a satellite that isn’t of Human design.”

“How do you know that?” AzAH asked, suddenly interested.

“It appears featureless until you spray it with ultrasound between a hundred fifty kilohertz and two hundred and fifty kilohertz.”

AzAH whistled. “Then what?”

“You can see it’s covered with symbols.”

“A language?”

Paolo shrugged, “No idea.” He grinned suddenly, “But I aim to find out. That’s why I’m headed to Cydonia.”

AzAH said, “Then we’ll come with you.”

HanAH looked up, “It’s going to get a little crowded over the next few weeks while we drive up there. There’s not exactly a paved highway to that part of Mars.” The looks they gave him made him laugh. He stood up and said, “Glad I finally was able to say something that got everyone’s attention.” He nodded. “We need to get ourselves an exploration vehicle.”

From the speaker, Fifty-seven exclaimed, “I beg your pardon!”

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kB5wP5o5VuzbhQVDthrqJohh8uL52IGDt84n3dGhkCI-t4RMfYH8kx-KjMU4CpHSKfJBCYAuX3Vx2BD_SMD5j06A-Tm_tz_6b29Ohv5Dkl5xtNoaecKLHOMkCWDbP_RrQZrjnatLx0A/s1600/Astronauta+Marcos+C%C3%A9sar+Pontes.bmp, http://img11.deviantart.net/c3c5/i/2009/067/9/3/dr__manhattan_by_theknightinhell.png

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 144: Paolo From Burroughs, Enroute to Bradbury

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. (The image I'm using for Paolo is actually Brazilian astronaut, Marcos Pontes.)

Paolo Marcillon and the marsbug’s AI waited for the mars buggy that had been following them since leaving Burroughs, came to a complete halt not far from them. The four passengers got off. Three stood alongside the vehicle while one walked toward them. It vanished from their view. There was a knock at the airlock door. Paolo said, “You may let them in.”

“These individuals may be your enemies whose sole purpose is to murder you.”

Paolo grinned, “Why MB, I didn’t know you cared!”

“MB is a diminutive of my official designation of marsbug. I do not like it.” It paused, adding, “I can’t care.”

Paolo shrugged, “Then I’ll call you Bradbury registry Mars Surface Transportation Vehicle 1202195405111957.”

There was a longer pause, “You may call me Fifty-seven. Shall I let the individual in?”

“Please activate the airlock.”

“Your wish is my command.” Fifty-seven began the airlock cycle.

The exterior lock opened, then closed. Fifty-seven pressurized it then said, “You’re certain about this?”

“I am.”

“It is completely without logic. Everything you have told me and what I have gathered from the Martian database suggests that these people are here to kill you.”

Paolo shrugged, “I’m not an AI. I reached a point long ago where I simply trust my God.”

Fifty-seven actually said, “Harrumph,” then opened the inner airlock.

An artificial Human walked through. He stood up and said, “My name is DaneelAH. My vatmates and I believe that you’ve been manipulating us.”

Paolo’s eyebrows shot up. “Why would you think that?”

“There are many forces at work on Mars which appear to be aimed at creating a revolution. While this is really no different from revolutions in the past. There are individuals in this world who do not have the same rights and privileges as others and in the Twenty-third that seems a curious return to the sociopolitical framework of mid-Twentieth Century United States. As that country no longer exists because of violent revolution and absorption into a larger society, it’s clear that someone or something is manipulation the politics and science here. Your name comes up an inordinate number of times. Therefore, we have come to the conclusion that you are more than you appear to be.”

Paolo shook his head slowly. “Who are some of the people I’m being accused of manipulating?”

DaneelAH shook his head, saying, “My vatmates are outside and have a limited amount of breathable air. May I invite them in here?”

“May I point out that at this point, if you were to decide to kill me, I would stand some small chance of fighting you off one-on-one. With four of you, being Artificial Humans with higher than natural born Human muscle density, you could not only overpower me but toss me out the door without a spacesuit and not even break a sweat.”

DaneelAH shrugged, “I could do that myself, if I were to be honest with you.”

“My vehicle would lend a hand. It’s an Artificial Intelligence marsbug.” DaneelAH looked startled. “But I’m going to go with my gut feeling and invite you and your vatmates into this vehicle. I can’t wait to hear what I’m doing to bring about revolution on Mars.”

The Artificial Human gave him a long look, then put his helmet over his head, spoke and then took it off again. Paolo saw the other three move toward the marsbug. Eventually they all stood inside, cramped now in a space typically large enough for two to travel comfortably. They’d introduced themselves and immediately the small of the two males, HanAH, had taken a seat and said, “There’s a persistent rumor that not only is Natan Wallack still alive – he’s a Christian convert.”

DaneelAH lifted a hand, adding, “It’s a rumor; unsubstantiated and ephemeral…”

HanAH snorted, “That just means that there aren’t a lot of people talking about it where your spies can eavesdrop – and that could be for reasons both mundane and criminal.”

AzAH said, “I assume that despite your casual mention, you’ve done a thorough analysis of the history of the Hero of the Faith Wars?”

The one who’d been identified as the youngest sister smiled faintly. MishAH said, “I have, but this time I’m more interested in the connections I’m seeing here.”

“Such as?” Paolo said. They all looked at him as if he were a bug on a pin. He smiled, “You’re the ones that wanted to talk to me and suspect me of masterminding a Martian revolution. But what you’re saying is news to me. But pretend I’m lying and already know this and am secretly trying to get you to tell me what you know.”

MishAH studied him, glanced to DaneelAH who pursed his lips and nodded. She said, “I’ll tell you that Natan Wallack’s survival would alleviate certain tensions in the pattern of his life and that there are both enough certainties and questions to make me think he might be here. That being said, his involvement with you would make sense as well. Also, he doesn’t use the name he got during the Faith Wars. He goes by Stepan Izmaylova…”

She paused, watching him as if she expected a strong reaction. Paulo shrugged, “I’ve never met anyone by that name.”

HanAH exclaimed, “You must have! You were in Burroughs! That’s where Stepan works. He’s a religious preacher and liberal activist on The Rim! We just came from there!” Paolo shrugged. HanAH stopped then scowling, said, “You aren’t part of the Free Martians?”

“I don’t know anything about them except what I’ve heard on the news. I don’t have anything to do with politics on Mars. I’m…I guess you’d say I was an apostle of Jesus Christ.”

“Well, Stepan knows about you,” said MishAH with a glance at her brothers, “At least he will soon.” She looked back at Paolo. “He’s found a piece of ancient technology that never belonged to Humans – of any sort.” Paolo seemed unconcerned and waved away her words. She added, “There’s also a woman, the Consort of the Mayor of Opportunity who is a well-known sympathizer of Christian beliefs. Her father has been classified as a radical. There’s evidence to suggest that the Mayor himself knows about her connection to her father.”

Her brother looked up from the marsbug’s computer screen and said, “He does, and in a public statement he made shortly after he took her to the Pylon, he mentions that while some may find her support of such radical religiosity repugnant, he does not believe that she, herself is a christian and therefore sanctions against christians, molesters, jews, rapists, buddhists, murderers, muslims, thieves, hindu, embezzlers, and…” always the drama king when he suited him, he paused for effect, then said softly, “us.”

DaneelAH looked at Paolo, “We think you’re manipulating all of these pieces. The fact is that you may actually have our best interests at hand. All of us in the marsbug – including the Artificial Intelligence that runs it – are on the same list of proscribed entities legally included in the term ‘non-human’?”

AzAH spoke finally, “I cannot go so far as to say that we should make common cause with you, but you do seem to have similar goals as we do.”

DaneelAH looked at Paolo and said, “I’ve been reading the file of holy books the Dalai Lama of Mars gave us.” AzAH raised a deep purple eyebrow. He sniffed, “They are instructive if for no other reason than to give insight into the reason Mars outlawed all forms of devotion but to Humanity…”

AzAH added, “Which notably does not include us.”

DaneelAH said, “I don’t have any sympathy for religion, per se. I do object to the exclusion of any group merely because someone has decided to exclude it.”

She made a face, “That doesn’t fit into the pattern.” Her brother opened his mouth, so she held up her hand, adding, “Yet. This Paolo Marcillon seems to be manipulating us; but his involvement with the Free Martians and Natan is by no means clear right now. There might also be other players involved.”

HanAH shook his head and dropped into an open seat. “Great! Now you’ve just implicated all Martians – both Natural and Artificial – in a conspiracy. Might a well...”

“It’s not that complicated,” MishAH cut off his rant. “I’ve seen other things stirring on this rusty pinball.” DaneelAH sat as well, looking up at her with interest. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned her considerable skills to a problem outside of agriculture, population studies, and local politics. She smiled at him, shot a superior look at her other brother and said, “There’s something going on in Opportunity.”

Paolo looked thoughtful then said, “I’d probably go back to Burroughs just to meet your friend Stepan; maybe take a side trip to Opportunity.” He leaned forward suddenly and all four vatmates leaned away as he said, “Except that I’m headed for Cydonia – because I’ve found more evidence that your friend Stepan seems to have added to. There were aliens on Mars long ago, when the North was still covered by an ocean, and I think they may be a key to a Martian reformation.”

Image: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_kB5wP5o5VuzbhQVDthrqJohh8uL52IGDt84n3dGhkCI-t4RMfYH8kx-KjMU4CpHSKfJBCYAuX3Vx2BD_SMD5j06A-Tm_tz_6b29Ohv5Dkl5xtNoaecKLHOMkCWDbP_RrQZrjnatLx0A/s1600/Astronauta+Marcos+C%C3%A9sar+Pontes.bmp

MARTIAN HOLIDAY 143: Aster of Opportunity

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

In the crowded restaurant, Aster Theilen caught the eye of her friend and fellow-conspirator, FardusAH, leaning forward. FardusAH mirrored her stance. Aster whispered, “The game is called a confidence trick, or a ‘con’. The nut is here.” She opened her fist. “I slipped it out while I was shuffling the cups.”

“That’s…”

“If you were going to say ‘cheating’, that’s not entirely true. Every gamble requires taking a risk. But if the con artist is good enough, they can make the gambler believe whatever they want them to believe.” She leaned closer, “That’s why a good con takes lots of planning – and inside people.”

FardusAH leaned back, studying the Mayoral Consort. After several moments, she said, “Remind my never to play poker with you.” With a mirrored nod, they stood up and headed to their separate homes. Aster headed for the Surface lift while FardusAH headed for the Deeper lift. Her friend disappeared into one of the fast moving cars, but Aster had stopped, watching, abruptly startled by the thought that while she was certainly taking a risk with attempting to deceive Mayor-for-Life Etaraxis, to whom she was the current consort, FardusAH was taking the greater risk.

The import of her plan took her breath away for a moment. If she failed, certainly she would be punished, possibly even executed.

If FardusAH was even suspected of being complicit, not only would she be executed – “put down” as if she were a cancer-riddled old-fashioned Earth “pet” – but her entire issue of vat mates would also be located and destroyed. Thought patterns that led to true rebellion, Aster had been taught since she was old enough to listen, were purely genetic. Of course they could be influenced by environment, diet, and training, but clones grown in vats who rebelled against their managers were clearly defective. Aster felt as if a great weight had been lad across her shoulders. She looked around and found a public rest area.

Sitting abruptly, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds. When she opened her eyes, her surroundings had come into focus so sharply the edges seemed made from shattered glass. While she was under the Mayor’s charge, she had a certain amount of freedom. Certainly, refusing the Mayor’s offer to be his consort had been her choice. But it was a choice made aware of possible consequences, disappointment of those around her had been a possibility. He might have been angry enough to have her harassed or stalked; she might have lost her job. The Strong Mayor system of government on Mars had been in place for over a century – he had authority to act within the law and be responsible to no one.

Even so, she hadn’t really thought that her life was in danger at any point. FardusAH’s cooperation was going to come to light eventually. If the Orphan’s Ball didn’t cause a paradigm shift in the politics of Opportunity Dome, in the religion of the Dome, then her life and the lives of all of her vatmates would be forfeit.

Aster might lose her life. FardusAH would lose hers for certain; those she both knew and didn’t know who shared the same germ plasm would be sterilized. She would vanish from history.

Aster stood up slowly. It seemed there was only one choice then. She had to stop being timid and start to make bold choices. She had to risk as much as FardusAH was. For some reason she trusted Aster; for some reason she felt that what Aster planned to do would make a difference. If what Aster did shattered the stranglehold grip “natural Humans” had over cloned Humans on Mars, then it would be revolution. It would change the face of Mars. Her pulse roared in her ears as she headed for the lift.

Was this where God had called her? To change the face of a world; to make a difference in the lives of Artificial Humans? While her life was limited on Mars, mostly because she was less interested in the sciences and math than many other women, she’d never really found a calling. It was how she drifted into government office work. While she’d applied for higher positions, none of them had ever materialized; her father had always suspected it was because she was his daughter.

But what if it was more? She’d been gifted with NOT the consortship with Etaraxis, but with an opportunity to wield poser for the first time in her life! On Earth, Inez Milholland Boissevain had fought and died for the rights of women to vote; FardusAH was risking her life for Artificial Human children. Her father risked his life for his faith.

How would her personal history remember her? What had she seriously risked her life for? Up until this moment, she’d been only semi-serious about her rebellion.

Now, it seemed, the moment had arrived. It was time for her to do something important for Mars; it was time to do something important for herself.

Image: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/pv5BzHM3TJ8/hqdefault.jpg