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Authors: Greg Bear

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Mars (Planet), #Space colonies

Moving Mars (4 page)

BOOK: Moving Mars
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Im not going to argue, Gretyl said. We demand to speak with

Youre talking to her, you ignorant shithead! Im right here. The foremost figure raised an arm and shook a gloved fist. And Im in no mood to negotiate with Trespassers and Gobacks.

Were here to deliver a petition. Gretyl removed a metal cylinder from her belt and extended it. One of the guards started forward, but Connor grabbed his elbow and shook it once, firmly. He backed away and folded his arms.

Politics of confrontation, Connor said, voice harsh as old razors. Agitprop and civil disobedience. Youd think you were on Earth. Politics doesnt work that way here. I have a mandate to protect this university and keep order.

You refuse to meet with us and discuss our demands?

Im meeting with you now. Nobody demands anything of lawful authority except through legal channels. Whos behind you?

I looked over my shoulder, misunderstanding.

Theres no conspiracy, Gretyl said.

Lies, my dear. Genuine lies.

Under Martian contract law, we have the right to meet with you and discuss why we have been voided and our contracts broken.

State law superseded BM law last month.

Actually, it doesnt. If you want to check with your lawyers Gretyl began. I cringed. We were bickering and time was running out.

You have one minute to turn around and go back to where you came from, or well arrest you, Connor said. Let the legals sort it out. Do your families know where you are? How about your advocates? Do they know and approve?

Gretyls words bristled. I cant believe you are being so stubborn. Im asking for the last time

Right. Arrest them, my authority, statute two-five-one, Syria-Sinai district books.

Some of the students began to talk, asking worried questions. Quiet! Gretyl shouted. She turned to Connor. Is this your last answer?

You poor dumb rodents, Connor said. She swiveled to enter the open lock door. Connor behaved even more rudely than she had been portrayed to us in the briefings, supremely confident, intractable and ready to provoke an incident. Guards moved forward. I turned and saw three guards behind us, also closing. We had to submit.

Gretyl stepped away from the first guard. Another flanked her on the right, coming between us, and she stepped back. There were twenty of us and ten guards.

Let them take you, Gretyl said. Let them arrest you. Then why was she resisting?

A guard took my arm and applied sticky rope to my skinsealed wrist. Youre lucky were bringing you in, he said, grinning. You wouldnt last another hour out here.

Two of the guards devoted themselves exclusively to Gretyl. They advanced with hands and sticky ropes held out. She backed away, held up her arm as if waving to them, and touched her mask.

Time got stiff.

Gretyl turned to look at the rest of us. Her eyes looked scared. My heart sank. Dont do anything just to impress Sean, I wanted to shout to her.

Tell them what you saw here, Gretyl said. Freedom conquers! Her fingers plucked at and then slipped beneath the seam of the mask. A guard grabbed at her arm but he wasnt quick enough.

Gretyl ripped away the mask and sprang to one side, sending it flying with a wide toss. Her long-nosed face flashed pale and narrow against the pink sky. She squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her mouth instinctively. Her arms reached out, fingers extended, as if she were a tightrope walker and might lose her balance.

Simultaneously, I heard small thumps and felt the ground vibrate.

Connor hadnt had time to enter the poke-up airlock. Get her inside! Get her inside! she screeched, pushing through her associates.

The guards stood still as statues for what seemed like minutes, then reached for Gretyl and dragged her as fast as they could to the airlock. She struggled in their arms. I saw her face pinking, blood vessels near the surface rupturing as the plasma boiled. Vacuum rose.

Gretyl opened her eyes and reached up with one hand to grab at her chin. She pulled her own jaw open. The air in her lungs rushed out, moisture freezing in a cloud in the still air.

Theyve blown track, someone shouted.

Get her INSIDE!

Gretyl looked at the sky through rime-clouded eyes.

The guard in front of me jerked the sticky rope forward and I fell into the dirt. For an instant it seemed he might kick me. I looked up and saw narrow grim eyes behind the helmet visor, mouth open, face slack. He stopped and blinked, waiting for orders.

I twisted my head around to see how my companions were being treated. Several lay in the dirt. The guards systematically pushed us down and planted boots on our backs. When all nineteen lay flat, the guards stood back. The door to the lock opened again and someone stepped out, not Connor.

Theyre under arrest, a mans voice said over the radio. Get them inside. Strip that stuff off and put them in a dorm. Delouse them.

There have never been lice on Mars.

They separated us quickly. Three guards pulled five of us away from the airlock and marched us through chilly tunnels to the old dorms, seldom used now. The new dorms had been equipped with more modern conveniences, but these were maintained for an emergency or future overload of students.

Can you get this off by yourself? the tallest of the three asked, gesturing at our skinseal. She removed her helmet beneath the dimmed lights of the hall, lips downturned, eyes miserable.

What did he mean, delouse? another guard asked, a young, muscular male with West Indian features and accent.

The guards were all fresh Martians. That made sense. The new United Mars state would be their sponsor, their BM and family.

You cant just hold us here, I said. What happened to Gretyl? My four companions turned on the guards, pointing fingers and shouting. We all demanded our rights communication, freedom, advocates.

It became an open rebellion until the third guard pulled a flechette from his pack. He was the shortest, a slim man with plain, short-cut brown hair and perfect, saintly features. His eyes narrowed, very cold. I thought, Heres a Statist sympathizer. The others were merely hired hands.

Blow it down, right now, he demanded.

You injured Gretyl! I shouted. We need to know what happened to her!

Sabotage is treason. We could shoot you in self-defense.

He raised the pistol. All of us backed away, including the two other guards.

That wouldnt be smart, I said.

Not for you. The slim fellow gave us a cold thin smile and pushed us down the hall.

We entered a stripped-down double room, immediately sprawling on the bare cot and chairs, another small gesture of useless defiance.

Youre going to be here for a while, so get comfortable.

I didnt like him pushing his pistol and didnt want to provoke him any further. We peeled off our skinsealit was a blessed relief to be free of it, actually. The West Indian tossed the shreds into dust bags. Enough smear floated loose to make us sneeze.

As if meeting for the first time, the five of us nodded and made introductions where necessary. We knew each other only slightly; one had been a classmate of mine, Felicia Overgard, about a year younger and two steps behind. I did not know Oliver Peskin well, a step higher and an agro major, and I had only met Tom Callin and Chao Ming Jung in the trench dome.

The slim fellow averted his eyes. Bizarre, waving a gun at us but ashamed of our bare flesh. He thrust the gun at the vapor sacks in the washroom. I dont know if you have lice, but you smell pretty rank.

The vapor bags hadnt been refilled or filtered in some time and we didnt smell much better after the showers. Water was inadequate to get rid of smear, and we carried itchy patches of red and orange all over. Wed have welts by tomorrow.

Three hours passed and we learned nothing. The guards stayed in their suits to avoid the dust. They had removed any identifiers and would not tell us their names. The sympathizer grew more and more grim as the hours crawled, and then ramped up to nervous, fidgeting with his gun. He whistled and pantomimed breaking it down and reassembling it. Finally, his slate chimed and he answered.

After a couple of brief acknowledgments, he sent the female guard out of the room. I wondered what they would do next, why they didnt want the woman there.

Surely they werent that stupid.

Conversation with my companions became thin and quiet. Fear had worn offwe no longer thought we were going to be shotbut the numbing sense of isolation that replaced it was no better. We settled into shivering silence.

The rooms were kept at minimum heat and we still didnt have any clothes. The three men suffered worse than Felicia and I.

Its cold in here, I said to the sympathizer. He agreed but did nothing.

Its cold enough to make us sick, said Oliver.

All right, said the sympathizer.

We should find them some clothes, said the West Indian.

No, said the sympathizer.

Why not? Chao asked. Felicia had given up covering herself with her hands.

You caused a hell of a lot of trouble. Why make it any easier on you?

Theyre human, man, the West Indian said. He was not very old, twelve or thirteen, and he had to be a recent immigrant. His West Indies accent was still obvious.

The sympathizer squinted and shook his head dubiously.

Weve won, I thought. With fools like this, the Statists dont have a chance. I couldnt quite convince myself, however.

We spent ten hours in that dorm room, cold and naked, skin itching furiously.

I fell asleep and dreamed of trees too tall to fit into any dome, rooted unprotected in the red dirt of Mars: redwoods in red flopsand, lofting a hundred meters, tended by naked children. I had had the dream before and it left me for a moment with an intense feeling of well-being. Then I remembered I was a prisoner.

The West Indian prodded my shoulder. I rolled on the thinly carpeted floor. He averted his eyes from my nakedness and drew his lips tightly together. I want you to know I am not all in this, he said. My heart, I mean. I am truly a Martian, and this is my first work here, you know?

I looked around. The sympathizer was out of the room. Get us some clothes, I said.

You blew up the train lines and these people, they are very angry. I just tell you, dont blame me when the shit sprays. People go up and down the hallsthe tunnels. I look out, there is so much going on. They are afraid, I think.

What did they have to be afraid of? Had the LitVids grabbed Gretyls injury or death and put our cause on the sly spin?

Can you send a message to my parents?

The fellow Rick has gone, the West Indian said, shaking his head. He meets with others, and he leaves me here.

What happened to Gretyl?

He shook his head again. I hear nothing about her. What I saw, it made me sick. Everybody is so crazy. Why did she do it?

To make a point, I said.

Not worth losing your life, the West Indian said, frowning deeply. This is small history, petty people. On Earth

My temper flared. Look, weve only been here a hundred Earth years, and our history is small stuff by Earth standards, but youre a Martian now, remember? This is corruption and dirty politicsand if you ask me, its directly connected with Earth, and the hell with all of you!

You really sound committed, I thought. Abuse could do wonders.

I awakened the others with my outburst. Felicia sat up. He isnt armed, she observed. Oliver and Chao stood warily and brushed dust off their backsides, muscles tensed as if they were giving thought to jumping the man.

The West Indian looked, if possible, even more abjectly miserable. Do not try something, he said, standing his ground with arms out, shaking his head.

The door opened and the sympathizer returned. He and the West Indian exchanged glances and the West Indian tilted and shook his head, saying, Oh, man. Behind the sympathizer came a fellow with short black hair. He wore a tight-fitting, expensive, and fashionable green longsuit.

Were kept here against our will Oliver complained immediately.

Under arrest, the man in the fashionable green suit said jovially.

For more than a day, and we demand to be released, Oliver finished, folding his arms. The man in the suit smiled at this literally naked presumption.

Im Achmed Crown Niger, he said. His voice was high Mars, imitative of the flat English of Earth, an accent rarely heard in the regional BMs. I presumed he would be from Lai Qila or some other independent station, perhaps a Muslim. I represent the state interests in the university. Im going from room to room getting names. Ill need your family names, BM connections, and the names of people youll want to talk to in the next hour.

What happened to Gretyl? I asked.

Achmed Crown Niger raised his eyebrows. Shes alive. She has acute facial rose and her eyes and lungs need to be rebuilt. But we have other things to talk about. Under district book laws, you are all charged with criminal Trespass and sabotage

What happened to the others? I pursued.

He ignored me. Thats serious stuff. Youre going to need advocates. He turned to the sympathizer and barked, Damn it, get these people something to wear. He looked back at us and his ingratiating smile returned. Its tough being legal in front of naked people.

Thirty armed men and women, as many LitVid agents, Chancellor Connor, and Governor Dauble herself stood in the dining hall, Connor and Dauble and their entourage well away from the offending students. We clustered in bathrobes near the serving gates, the twenty-eight who had gone out with Sean and Gretyl, criminals caught in the act of sabotage. Those left behind in the trench domes had been collected as well. Dauble and Connor were about to celebrate their victory on LitVid across the Triple.

Medias and Pressians, my father called them: the hordes of LitVid reporters that seemed rise out of the ground at the merest hint of a stink. On Mars reporters were a hearty breed; they learned early to get around the tight lips of BM families. Ten of the quickest and hardiestseveral familiar to me stood with arbeiter attendants near the Statist cluster, ear loops recording all they saw, images edited hot for transmission to the satcoms.

BOOK: Moving Mars
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