German Olympus was the largest settlement in the sacred land. It was the first open living area built when humankind stepped outside the massive domes of initial colonization. Very few of the crude dwellings existed among the reflective domes here. The faith kept a tight grip on everything, considering this the center of existence. Double the size of Star Light Rise, it spread out farther than the eye could capture unassisted. Home to thousands as opposed to hundreds.

Pushing hard and driving over two thousand kilometers in exceptional time was great. But now, I had to wait till tomorrow. So, I observed from a couple kilometers away.

Breathing in the scent of harvested fields, I sat atop a large derelict structure constructed of a poor iron harvested from the planet. Unlike the domed units for living that seemed frozen in time, it showed every single of the thousand years it had been standing. These buildings dotted randomly along the travel ways made ideal camps, one of the first thing Jazz taught me. Jazz. Damn him.

“HAG, current time stamp?”

“Nine zero one Martian rise, reminder user Ex, organics at ten percent,”

Looks like the parasite is hungry. I guess I used it to stay awake a lot. Pulling a ration wrap from a pouch on my belt, and tipping my right arm, so I was looking at the underside of the device. There was a small rough section that didn’t shine like the rest. Pushing the contents of the ration bar against the dull spot. “HAG, absorb item,” I said. The slightest of a vibrating hum and the food merged into the metal completely.

“HAG at full capacity. All features are available to user,” the female voice spoke.

I ignored the reply and stared absent-mindedly at the landscape of stem grass and brush, orange ledge faces rising through like waves. German Olympus, a chrome dotted flat in a sea of green. It’s been so long. Fingering the engraved letters on the H.A.G. I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath. This is the closest I had been to since Jazz had taken me in.

“Look at the pretty lights, Zelsta, it still works!”

“Biometrics established. D.N.A compatible. User name?”

“Zelsta, it talks! It has a girl’s voice. Maybe it’s for girls.”

“User name: Zelsta, it talks! It has a girl’s voice. Maybe it’s for girls. - Is this correct?”

My eyes stung behind the lids. Star Light Rise had been brutal, and I’d never been there before. The proximity to my home of my first eight orbits made my skin clammy and waves of the past assaulted me. I gave a couple of shoves at the back of the silver device weakly. In my youth, I had done this many times. Often until my arm bled, leaving slight scaring where the H.A.G. ended and my skin began. A seamless joint of boy and machine. Forever more.

Dropping to the ground in front of the crumbling building and pulling out the crimson robe that Owls had given me. Red wasn’t a traditional color for common worshipers to wear. If he doesn’t want me standing out. Then why give me this robe? This is a cleric’s robe?

I gave the garment a full once over. Under clothes varied in settlements. One of the few things the faith didn’t regulate. But the robes were fixed. Brown for commons, red for clerics and white for inquisitors. Black for pontifex. Guess a random cleric is going to wander German Olympus tomorrow. I laughed, and settled in for the day, napping and studying the maps I basically had memorized at this point. My path was set, just a matter of getting there.

The morning came fast. This close to a place like German Olympus, meant the risk of deadly beast was minimal, even outside the wall. So, sleep came easily through the night. Far more nervous now and struggling to keep my breathing steady. Calm down, they won’t even recognize you. I kept repeating to myself and that was if they were in the settlement. I shoved my arms into the loose sleeves of the robe after dawning my white shirt. It’s soft for sure. I thought, running the material between my fingertips.

There was a surprising amount of people surrounding the expanse of dwellings and other structures that made up German Olympus. I could see many martians approaching from a distance. So, I chose not to ride the by-wheel the last two kilometers. I hid the machine in a patch of stem grass, far off the road. “HAG, double excel,” I said, running. Here we go.

With the hood pulled over my head and the long sleeves, the robe made it easy for me to walk among the residents. Still, I caught myself folding my arms behind my back, regardless. The gun over my shoulder gave me the appearance of a hunchback through the red garments, so I opted to hide it, and the blaster in an unclaimed dwelling. I wouldn’t need it here. Sure, there were several inquisitors, but these seemed even less trained than Owls’ personal guard. Should trouble arise, the H.A.G be would enough.

Noting the perfect ratio of men, women, and children. I scanned the walkways. The Way Of Deimos regulated the population with prejudice. One son per couple. If the firstborn is female, a second breeding is allowed. If a second daughter is born, they must eliminate one offspring. And neither child can choose a mate or breed until both parents’ life functions end. What a disgusting excuse for living. If I had been born female, I wouldn’t be here now.

My boots clacked against the solid gray travel ways that were unique to large settlements. It bothered me. It’s too noisy. I thought, and watched a distant border as a massive blocky, unmanned machine rolled into a fenced area, off-loading crates of food wraps. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a perpetual harvester. I looked closer. Lines of white-robed men gathered up the crates and took them to an unknown location. Surely to distribute later as gifts from Deimos.

“How long have they been doing that?” a small voice asked from behind. I turned, unsure of who had been speaking.

“Since Deimos sent Phobos to enslave the wicked demons. Those demons honor the gods by bringing us bounty from the mearth,” a tall square faced woman answered a short curly-haired girl, whom had been watching the same scene as me.

At the woman’s reply, hot prickles ran up my back. Remembering the same explanation from many orbits ago. A vague, simple answer. All lies. I swallowed the urge to cut in the conversation. Give genuine answers. Actually, the machines plant, rotate and tend to crop and fields around this place just like we built them to do millennia ago. And when they stop, we die because we’re too stupid to fix them now. I could feel my brow wrinkling as I played the truth in my mind. The woman looked at my face, eyes widening.

“I’m sorry, your grace.” She gave a slight bow, snatched the girl by the arm and padded away, dingy brown robes flapping. Your grace? I wondered, confused. With the hood covering my exile scars, I guessed I could be mistaken for an actual cleric, even up close.

“We are sorry your grace, our offspring have delved into the evil. They both may be cursed.”

“Why is Zelsta cursed? Can’t Deimos help us? Or maybe pontifex Grail? He is so powerful!”

People weaved around me as I worked my memories back in place. Once calmed, I began trekking from one edge of the settlement square to the next, scanning as the inhabitants set up small tables and booths to sell and trade personal crafts. The ancient machines handled food, clothing, and protection, so long as you stayed with in the area. This sacred market only existed to give people a sense of purpose. They could trade dyed clothing and handmade trinkets for other trinkets, while being fed cultist babel. It was absurd.

I leaned against a well stem at an intersection of pathways. Navigating the hoard was taxing my nerves. The people here avoided bumping into me with great care because of my disguise. They would have done the same without it, but an inordinate amount of staring would have occurred. Neither scenario was any better.

Sweat ran down my back as I took steady breaths. My mind serving as a physical burden. Why am I even here? I began asking myself, kicking off the pillar back towards the crowd. I’m sure they’re gone. Or maybe I don’t recognize them. Now in German Olympus, my feelings twisted. I was desperate for something, but I was less sure of what it was.

A loud chime from the far end of town startled me. All stopped and knelt wherever they were. I forgot about midday worship. This could be my chance. Trying to keep the pressure of excitement from welling in my chest. They probably aren’t here, but I can look one more time. But as Jazz had asked, what will I actually do if I found them? I thought, meandering through the mob. Too old, too young, no green eyes, no hair, too much hair. I cataloged the faces, searching. There were possibly a thousand Martians here, and I was looking for two that I hadn’t seen in fourteen orbits. A fool’s errand.

At the far border of the square, I looked over the sea of kneeling figures, defeated. No long-lost parents. What a waste. Had I really expected to find them? Even with the small population of the entire planet, an old analogy I had read came to mind. Needle in a haystack. I mentally altered the meaning, lightening my mood. There was none of crop called hay on Mars. Definitely can’t find the needle in it then. I breathed in the thick scent of dust, steel, and people. The nostalgia again battered my mind, weaving it through unpleasant emotions.

Finally, I convinced myself it was time to leave. There was no reason to continue looking. My parents could easily have moved to another settlement, or their life function could have stopped. And in truth, the novelty of showing them I was still alive had been lost in relentless flash backs. I really wish I had waited for Jazz.

I saw a familiar curly-haired girl as I walked towards my stashed gear. She knelt by the tall woman from before. Though, instead of bowing, she watched wide eyed as another perpetual harvester pulled into a dock. This one dumped an enormous pile of white fluff into a bin attached to a building with no door, just an opening to eject crates of finished white clothing. Her chest rose and fell excitedly as she looked on. The corner of my mouth pulled up slightly.

An idea emerged as I walked. What if I. Changing direction and fishing under my robes, I found what I was looking for. The girl noticed me nearing and slammed into prayer position, chin tucked, hands folded. I smiled and knelt, gently taking her slender wrist and turning her hand. She flinched as I placed a saucer like object in her palm.

The piece had a glass cover that sat over an arrow shaped needle. Four letters from the lost language marked the top, bottom, and both sides. She opened her eyes, looked at the object, then up to me, her mouth a gape. I put a pointed finger to my lips. She studied me briefly, then a smile stretched over freckled cheeks as she examined the object delicately.

I walked away without a word. She slid the small item into the sleeve of her robe before the woman had shot her a sharp sideways glance. Unlike the H.A.G, it was something that she could hide. Who knows, she may just throw it out some day. Assuming it was a test from a cleric. Or perhaps it could lead her to learning, by wanting to know what it was. Then she’ll be the one to teach others. I thought. The girl’s smile had eased the weight of failure. It was oddly satisfying.

Something caught my eye just before my destination. Those weren’t there when I got here? I hunched into a sneak position out of habit. Slowly stepping around a couple, who knelt by the alley leading to the fenced area between harvester docks. Drawing closer, a huge number of by-wheels and two of the large four wheeled Humvees lined the perimeter. Matching thick yellow paint with a blue stripe on various parts. Shit! Titans’ wrath, and a lot of them. Why would they be here? Owls is in Star Light Rise so they can’t be trying that again. I swallowed, looking at all the close by structures. They seem empty and the solid ground makes it hard to see tracks. I ground my teeth. Just let them run wild. The thought rubbed my insides. I had no love for the leaders of the faith., but the people were innocent and didn’t know any better. Damn it! Even if I joined with the useless white robes. No. There’s no way we could take that many heathens if they are armed like that female. Shaking my head, it was only a matter of time before this happened.

I investigated the machines further, my breath catching when I reached the end of the line. That’s Jazz’s by-wheel. A closer inspection showed the rusty color and the recognizable seat Jazz had worked over for his bulk. It was his for sure. Why would he be with them? No. they must have captured him. Stole it from him? My thoughts lost alignment. There is no way they could have got the jump on Jazz.

My legs started moving on their own. Barreling out of the alley, over the couple, and through the door of the dwelling that held my weapons. Where are they? I left them here.

A heavy grip on my shoulder caught me unawares. Instinctively driving an elbow back, “gahh,” sounded from the hand’s owner. Turning on my heels in time to feel a metallic object ping just above my right eye. My vision swam, and I staggered, trying to see the aggressor. The door shut and light gave way to dark. Is there more than one? They haven’t shot or stabbed me, I’ve got this! “HAG, com-,” a thick filling mashed in my mouth as something looped around my head from behind, cutting my command. “mmpphh, mmphh,” I screamed through the material. My attacks became random, throwing my elbows and feet blindly as someone dragged me further backwards. Hot liquid ran down from my eyebrow, stinging and disrupting my view further. A wild kick made contact and there was a light grumble when my foot struck.

“Make him unconscious. The pontifex wants him for the ceremony.”

Where do I know that voice? Another pain at my temple and consciousness left me.

*****************************************************

“Look Ex, I got it open.” Zelsta said, pushing against a heavy door leading into one of many forbidden buildings. “It’s not the temple, but we could go in.” Her bell voice was convincing, not that her little brother would need convincing.

Ex bolted by her without a word. His robes, too big for his body, dragging behind him. He never feared much, that was for sure. But she knew the Inquisitors wouldn’t be back here for at least another mega cycle. They had time. She looked around, then followed her brother in.

The building was a treasure trove. The walls lined with rows of the inquisitor’s spears and loads of stuff she had never seen before. Old things. Things that her and Ex’s parents said didn’t exist. But that was silly. Her friends said that it was all made up. There were no gods, and humans came from the Shiny thing in the sky at night. She tried to remember the word her friend called it. She picked up an odd, flattened object. It was rectangular shaped. Picking at the edges, the object opened. Inside, thin strips covered in symbols. She didn’t recognize these. But they had to be words. Like what the clerics would read. Did they read these?

“Zelsta, it still works!” she heard her brother call to her.

“Coming, where are you?” She wandered deeper into the building. The shelves lined up like a miss matched grid, even more relics stored for her to see. Maybe they could come back tomorrow, too.

“Zelsta, it talks! It has a girl’s voice. Maybe it’s for girls.”

She wondered what her brother had found that was talking. Her skin tingled with excitement. Leave it to Ex to spot the good stuff.

“No, no it’s Ex.”

“User name: Ex. Is this correct?”

“Yup, that’s my name!”

“What have you found?” She asked, rounding the corner.

“HAG engaged. Locking. DNA scanned. Artificial adrenalin formulated. Nanotonic steroids formulated. Organics at ninety-eight percent. All features available to user.”

Ex was examining an object that encompassed his arm. A drab female voice emanating from somewhere. It was brilliantly reflective, even in the dim light of the room. The object was shrinking, matching his smaller frame.

“That’s so stellar Ex, where did you get it? Zelsta asked.

“It was on the shelf right here.” He pointed to a ringed dustless point next to a crate. “I think it’s for girls though, try it.”

Ex was always generous, even beyond what their parents had asked of them. What the faith asked of them. She felt guilty, but still couldn’t resist the urge.

“Sure, I’ll try it.”

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