Mars the Divine (Empire of Time Series) by John Argo

Page 4.

Chapter 3. Shan The Heretic Appears

This is how Shan the Heretic showed up in my life, and neither I nor Holy Mars would ever be the same again.

Some time ago, during the Storm Season, I was coming down from the Eyeglass Tower of the Graniston Domes. I had ensured that all the seals were in place and the hatches battened as prescribed in the sacred Directions. I felt happy, and none of the things I am about to describe had yet come to my attention, shattering the innocence of what we believe.

While up there, I stood meditating for some time as I gazed through the thick glass windows at our farms and villages in the thin blue air. Soon the Popess or Holy Mother of our Fire Faith would visit the Granistons for the Storm ceremonies. We all looked forward with joy and comfort to her visitation. The children expected gifts under a tree, and the adults reaffirmed their vows to their Dome.

As I looked out from the tower that late morning, dust was starting to encircle us with its brown clouds. Men and women in gliders sailed here and there on the high winds, assisted in the thin air by flat hydro-bladders under their colorful sails. In a week or two, the sailing would be done as the air thickened with dust.

Already I could see, scattered across the quadrille paths and pipes in all directions, the hard bluish light of stored energy gathered from Sol's generous rays during the Clear Season. We store energy in batteries so that we won't live in utter darkness during the Storm time. Looking down at the battery lights, I believed they were harder and stronger in my childhood, but then we do not always remember things as they really were. I could see the cold dust snaking through the mountain canyons to the north and east, while peach-colored sunlight played on the flat plains to the south and west. In the really far distance was the looming hulk of Olympus Mons, which has its own clouds and atmosphere, and hundreds of dots of light where domed cities surround its enormous walls. Every year, life becomes a little bit leaner, and among the literal readers of Direction, there is much talk of end times.

One by one, using levers, I lowered the steel plates outside and screwed them tight by turning the crossjack on their bolts on the metal surfaces inside. It's said these naked steel sheets are among the oldest building artifacts on Mars, and represent the unknown foundation period when the Godpods put humans on the surface of Mars—if you believe such tales.

On my way down, I encountered the heretic who was to change my life. I was to learn the truth about Erdith and the Godpods and many other things to which your histories and libraries have no reference because it is beyond the scope of your knowledge.

I wore my comfortable white woolen robe, tied with the belt that unites us in spirit, as I came down the steel spiral steps from the high turret. I smelled the wonderful aromas of cooking, from corn to cabbage, from beef to beets, from chicken to chowder. With over 5,000 people in the Graniston 1 Dome, we have a rich populace. There are another 10,000 scattered in the farms and villages, and we have six outlying towns (Graniston 1, Graniston Power, Graniston 2, Graniston Defense, Graniston Cargo, and Graniston Science). Each of the towns is said to have been a Godpod in primordial history, and elementary schools often have paintings on the walls of the Gods' giant hands placing these pods on the surface of Mars like little shells from which life sprang.

I was humming contentedly and thinking of the many children coming in from the schools for their midday meal, when a wild figure presented himself to me in the stairs. Since we are forbidden to carry weapons in the domes, I was defenseless before this disheveled and dirty, hairy man. He wore a long beard matted with filth, and his eyes were so wide that they shone white even above the pupils. "Brother!" he shot at me in a hoarse whisper. "Brother!" In the semi-darkness, I could see he wore Triber clothing, brown with many patches, and the obnoxious trousers their men and women both wear.

"Who are you, Triber? What are you doing up here?" I demanded. Though scared, I put my fists on my hips and assumed a pose of authority. Inwardly, I prayed to the Holy Sun and the flying twins Fear and Terror to preserve me. A broad knife glittered in the folds of his waistband, and his hands were black with dirt.

"I am Triber Shan," he said, "and I have come to warn you about a terrible event."

Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).

TOP | MAIN