Friday 3 June 2011

The Automatic Marlboro - Section III, sub-section (c)

The Automatic Marlboro is a science-fiction novelette told in twelve parts, posted serially by me, your host with aquatic ambitions, Cheeseburger Brown. This is the tenth installment.

Plus, check out my illustration for this year's Strange Loop brainiac conference to be held in September 2011 in St. Louis, USA.

Also, I'm planning on finally launching my sailboat this weekend, so cross your fingers that I'm less clumsy than usual and thereby don't manage to mess it up. As I've explained before, my relationship with the physical world can best be described as a truce.

1a|1b |1c|2a|2b|2c|2d|3a|3b|3c|3d|3e

Connected stories: Simon of Space, Life & Taxes, Tim, Destroyer of Worlds

And now, the story continues:



How could I have failed to notice the city transform?

My bicycle splashes through puddles of slush, wheels wobbling as I crane my head to take in the sight of crimson banners flying from every streetlamp and balcony. People with their faces painted red rush along to the public squares, grinning and shouting slogans at me as I try to weave between them. I ring my bell, but it's lost in the noise.

There's a parade winding down Second Avenue so I cut over to Fourth. I ride through a fish market, wrinkling my nose at the smell. On the far side a bunch of people are gathered around an outdoor holographic stage where a woman in a dark red dress is shouting, her image faintly flickering as she gesticulates. "Ares is a name taken to appease Old Earth, to soothe the fetid continents of mutts and its diaspora of vile Jovian inbreds!"

The crowd boos sympathetically, nodding and raising their placards.

"But the time of shame is over," continues the woman in red. "The time of play-acting is done. This is a new era -- an era of truth. We are the natural governors of this star system, and we aren't afraid to say who we are. We are Mars! And we're willing fight for the Solar peace every member of the selected human race deserves!"

The people cheer. I slink past, hat tugged down over my Earthish complexion. I don't want any trouble.

I toss my bike into the alley behind Pulse's apartment building, crank open the door to the fire stairwell and pound my way up the steps. The feeble Aresian gravity makes me feel strong and fast and nearly free.

In the corridor I lean into his door as I knock, calling his name. "It's me, it's Marly!"

His voice comes muffled through the door: "Fellate yourself, Marly."

"Pulse, please open the door! It's important! It's more important than you and me!" I give up knocking and slowly slide down the door, my knees turning to jelly. "Listen, man. I know I fornicated you. I know everything's my fault. You're my best friend, Pulse. I thought I was doing things for the right reasons...but it turns out I'm just a sphincter. I'm so sorry, man. I am."

The lock buzzes and retracts. The door unseals and slides aside. Pulse looks tired. "So what's so important?"

I clamber to my feet. "The New Martian Party won the election."

"I know that. Everybody knows that. What rock have you been living under?"

"The Air rock," I say. "But Air was right about one thing: the Zorannics are dependent on us to reproduce themselves, and we're dependent on the university. The university, in turn, is dependent on the government."

"And the mandate."

"The mandate's over, man. That's what everybody's saying. All the old promises mean nothing now. The New Martians want warships -- real ones, not decoys like in the days of the Shah. And they want the power of the Zorannic robots at their command."

Pulse pales. "What are you going to do?"

"Air says we've got to finish the apparatus. I think she's right. We've got to finish it right now. Like, tonight. She thinks the Zorannics will come for it."

Pulse nods. "She's clever for a manipulative whore."

"You know what, Pulse? Forget that. We need you, but you can't bring that with you. We need your brain, not your anger. I've got to put my feelings aside, too. We just have to get this thing done."

"That's easy for you to say. You fired me, you penis!"

"I said I'm sorry!"

Pulse punches me in the face. I fall down...

To read the rest of this story, buy it now from Amazon for just $2.99!


SaintPeter said...

I was initially against releasing this story in so many little parts, but the idea has grown on me. The way the story is structured really lends itself well to being broken up. It's nice to mull over the pieces, as they each have their own flavor.

Of course, I can't wait for the next one! Excitement! Adventure! Feces!

I did notice the apparent confirmation that Mars was colonized by the Shah. It hasn't been clear in the past, although there have certainly been hints. Oh that plot and it's indecent thickening.

Sheik Yerbouti said...

For the past two chapters, I'm caught up in a surprisingly strong apprehension over Marlboro's future. Great writing, CBB.

Cheeseburger Brown said...

Dear SaintPeter,

I'm glad you think it's worked out alright. I'd had my doubts, but then again these things always seem to a sputter a bit at the start before the reader's had a chance to catch on to the momentum of the story.

Plus, it's for me, personally, to see a story like this give my blog the illusion of life for almost a month, rather than getting a mere three days or so out of it. Sometimes it seems a shame to blow so many hours of work on just a handful of posts, you know? I've spent so much time with the characters, I feel like the reader ought to be forced to, too, in a way. Otherwise we're just working on way too different timescales, you and I.

Cheeseburger Brown

Cheeseburger Brown said...

Dear Sheik,

Thanks for letting me know when you feel apprehension. That's definitely a good thing in this context.

It means the collection of devices that make up Marlboro are at least serviceable enough to elicit proper sympathy. I hope he remains credible at the next turn.

Cheeseburger Brown