Orphans of Middle Mars: Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars

by CJ East

  His eye caught one light-skinned youth towards the end of the hall. Lucius watched with locked intensity as Kinch passed. Next to him sat Amica with a reassuring smile. She gave a knowing nod, as if signaling everything was going to work out.

  His eyes drifted from them. He had hoped they wouldn’t come. He had to distance himself for their protection. This was going to hurt.

  Guards lined the gallery of spectators, stationed every six feet. They stood with quiet discipline as Kinch passed. At the end of the procession, each pair of stationed soldiers stepped forward. They turned and snapped into formation behind their prisoner with military precision.

  Ahead there were a dozen more guards, staring straight ahead. Their breastplates were polished silver. Glittering armor casings covered their red forearms and shins. These were the guards to hold the line between Kinch and the stage.

  When Tinnius shouted, “Prisoner, halt!” He heard one final marched step from the soldiers behind him and a synchronized stop. The soldiers guarding the stage snapped from their resting position. Their right hands gripped the hilts of their sheathed swords in ready position.

  Kinch felt Amica reaching out to him with her thoughts, but he did not connect. He looked to the stage in front of him. On both sides were desks piled high with scrolls. Two large marble chairs were placed before a long table stretching the width of the platform. One chair was occupied by an older Coccino man with long, white hair braided into a single rope falling over his shoulder. He leaned back to survey Kinch with interest. He wore a white toga with a gold brooch on each shoulder and a thick gold braid connecting them. His red skin was faded and wrinkled, and his blue eyes were clouded with age.

  The old man leaned forward evaluating Kinch, his elbows on the stone table. “You are but a boy,” he said with curiosity. “I am told you speak our language, is this true?”

  Kinch assessed the old man, his appearance and speech seemed firm, but kind. He met the man’s gaze and spoke in a loud, clear voice so all could hear. “I fear I understand better than I speak, for your people do not respond to me as I would expect.”

  The old man stroked his chin and smiled as he looked the boy up and down. “Yes, that could be possible. You do speak our words with a strange dialect, but alas, I have similar disappointments. My people do not often respond to me as I would expect.” A polite laugh swept through the gallery.

  The Magistrate pulled an opened scroll and held it closely to his weak eyes. “Regardless, I have no problem understanding you and so we will attend to the matter at hand. You struck a soldier of the Red Army, did you not?”

  “Of his profession I cannot say. I stopped a drug-crazed man from beating a defenseless woman,” Kinch retorted. He softened his statement with, “But yes sir, if this is the soldier you refer to, I struck him until he stopped moving.”

  The old man pushed the scroll away and leaned back in his chair with narrowing eyes. “His account says that you shamed and wounded his son in the public market. Is this true?”

  “His son and others were extorting money from a younger boy who had taken a faith vow of nonviolence. When I tried to intervene, their anger was turned upon me. I restrained one boy until we could come to an agreement. They all left without further incident.”

  The old magistrate searched the boy’s face in long, quiet pause. “These people you have protected, the boy of the faith oath and the defenseless woman. They are of The Way. Are you a follower of this practice?”

  “I know nothing of their religion. Only that it compels them to show a stranger kindness when others show disdain for skin not the color of the Coccino.” He was pushing the limits of hospitality now, but he had nothing to lose.

  “Ah,” the magistrate sighed, “such judgment from the accused side of the table. I believe you confuse who is on trial here. Step forward, please.”

  Kinch looked back at Tinnius and smirked. The guard looked as if he was going to speak and then stopped himself. Kinch took a few steps forward. He was within arms-reach of the front line soldier holding his sword hilt. The guard’s eyes flashed a stern warning with a bold and fearless expression.

  The Magistrate leaned forward to examine the flesh of Kinch’s exposed left arm. The magistrate had a thoughtful expression on his face. He was about to speak when the large doors at the end of the hall clanged and groaned open. The Magistrate peered over Kinch discovering a squadron of golden-armored soldiers coming through the door. A disappointed expression covered his face as he grumbled something under his breath. He began clearing the scrolls from the side of the table in front of the empty chair.

  Tinnius turned from the advancing soldiers to the Magistrate, frustration painting his red face. The old man released a reluctant nod to Tinnius.

  “Separate!” shouted Tinnius and his squad behind Kinch split in half, each half marching to the stone terraces of the sides of the gallery.

  Kinch surveyed the room for clues on what was happening. Lucius stared at him with the same expression as when Kinch had beaten the Lotus chewer, a foreboding of things going from bad to worse.

  Tinnius stood at attention between Kinch and the advancing golden soldiers. They split and made two columns on either side of Tinnius. Kinch turned and followed them as they surrounded him in a large oblong circle. The soldiers had gold breastplates and armor in the style of the Coccino soldiers. They differed physically in the light gold of their skin and their short, wavy, pale-white hair.

  Another differentiating characteristic was the irises of their eyes: not the deep blue of the Coccino. The irises of these men were a deep black, indistinguishable from the pupils.

  Kinch turned in a slow circle looking at the soldiers. They were tall and muscular like the Coccino soldiers, but with a ruthless confidence in their presence. Kinch felt the warning heat begin to burn in his scalp.

  A voice from the rear shouted out, “Ready!” and the soldiers flung their golden swords from their sheaths and lowered them to Kinch’s neck.

  The Leaving

  The golden soldiers leaned forward, frozen in a ready state. Kinch was impressed with the coordination of their movements. The symmetry of the instruments of death touching his neck was like art. He also knew if he moved or a commander spoke the right word, a dozen swords would relieve his shoulders of the burden of his head.

  He scowled at the soldier across from him, the man’s gold face emotionless and firm. The warrior’s complete black eyes showing no difference between iris and pupils. His eyes made his appearance reptilian.

  Kinch was familiar with the soldier’s bearing. Disciplined, professional, well-trained. This soldier would execute a life without hesitation. The difference of commitment between these men and Tinnius’ red troops were vast.

  Kinch lowered his bound hands, signaling there would be no contention. The soldiers broke their line behind Kinch, splitting toward to the sides to allow the entrance of another golden man. Tinnius placed one knee on the ground, his forearm on the other, and bowed his head at the statesman’s entrance to the circle.

  The man had a large, closed-mouth smile and alert, darting eyes. He stepped around Tinnius without acknowledgment, looking at Kinch’s short black hair. He wore a white toga over his golden flesh and a thick golden amulet necklace studded with brilliant red, green and blue jewels. He slowed his walk when he saw Kinch’s face. His smile grew even wider, almost manic as he circled him. His men's swords lifted over the nobleman’s white hair to his complete oblivion.

  He didn’t look into Kinch’s eyes, just surveyed the composition of his face, then his one-armed Google jumpsuit. He cocked his head to the side as he investigated the corporate patch on his chest with amusement. These must be the Auri Lucius spoke of.

  Kinch watched the strange man out of a cautious eye. The man seemed pleased. He finished his examination of his subject without acknowledging Kinch was a living creature. He spun to the Magistrate, as if someone had called his name. The guards divided to show the stage before him.
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  A thought blazed though Kinch’s mind as he saw the expression of worry on the Magistrate’s brow. This is a man of importance. Kinch could walk out of here if his bound wrists were around this man’s neck. His fists tightened as he rolled his wrists against their restraints.

  A flash of gold blinded him as a sword flicked much too close to his right eye from a soldier to his right. The important man turned his head a quarter turn, not smiling in the slightest now, watching Kinch from his periphery. He paused for a moment then regaining his manic grin, snapped his head forward. “Hail Justinius, subject of the Patrician of Arx.”

  He threw his toga train over his shoulder and climbed a set of marble steps to the stage. “I appear to have perfect timing,” he said. “You are interrogating the foreigner. We are most interested in this information,” he said as he rounded the table and flourished into the empty stone chair.

  “Hail, Flavius. What an unexpected and great honor for you to share the Judgment Seat this day. May your years be long and your home be blessed,” said Justinius the Magistrate as he rose and bowed his aged head.

  “And your home be blessed as well, Justinius. Now what have you learned of his intentions?” Flavius arranged the train of his toga and settle himself in the chair.

  “We have but just set to the task, Senator Flavius. We were discussing the local matters of disruptions in which the boy was involved, misunderstandings it would appear,” the Magistrate said as he lowered himself into his chair.

  “Yes, how uninteresting. Then you will not mind while I steer the line of questioning to the ends the Patrician has employed me?” His eyes glistened with a piercing calmness.

  The older man bowed his head and lifted his palm upwards in a sign of deference.

  Flavius’ attention was drawn to the guards in the aggressive posture with swords drawn at Kinch’s head, “At ease,” he said, “Give the prisoner some room to breathe.” The ranks split with the soldiers in front of Kinch moving to protect the stage and the others stepping to the sides. Kinch was still surrounded, just by a greater distance.

  Kinch was fascinated by the man, everything about him seemed fraudulent. His speech pattern was different from the Coccino’s, he used the same syntax of classical Latin Kinch had been taught: Written Latin, instead of spoken.

  The Senator started, “How did you come to our world, alien?”

  Kinch thought how to answer. Best to keep the witticisms in his back pocket, “From the surface, down the great tunnel, then through the blue doorway.”

  Flavius looked delighted with the answer, “Indeed. And your facilities on the surface, others await your return?”

  Kinch felt the heat of danger flare over his scalp, “No,” he paused, “No, there isn’t anyone left.”

  Flavius maintained his smile and narrowed his eyes with feigned concern, “Oh, how unfortunate. What happened to your people?”

  “There was an explosion, it destroyed our habitat and everyone inside. I was collecting rock samples at the time and had nowhere to go so I sought shelter in a cave. It lead me here.”

  “How extremely fortunate for you and how horrible for your people. It sounds extraordinary. Almost unbelievable, don’t you think?” Flavius smiled at Kinch, but his voice did not sound happy.

  Kinch shifted from foot to foot, with a distracted inspection of his boots, “I’m sorry, Flavius. I wasn’t listening.”

  Gasps and whispers were heard from the gallery, “You see, as I was telling Tinnius back there, you people must have some angry parasites because they are chewing my feet in these boots.”

  Flavius’ golden expression lit up with anticipation, “Parasites? You have parasites eating you?” he laughed. He craned his head around Kinch to search a mortified Tinnius.

  Kinch answered, “Yes, exactly. And if only I could remove my boots, then I could answer your questions without the distraction.”

  The Senator tilted his head back to Kinch and leveled a stern glare, “But of course. It would be barbaric to have you interrogated while being eaten alive. Please, give yourself comfort.”

  Kinch nodded and bent down, focusing on the task with all of his effort. A barely audible counting murmured from his lips. He unlaced his right boot and removed it. He zipped the wire lace as far out of the boot as possible, closing the metal flaps tight. He was counting the next four steps of a plan as Flavius continued, “You were telling me the number of your group, how many of you there are?”

  Kinch removed his other boot, zipped tight the laces and secured them to the end laces of the other boot. He turned his attention to the Senator as he pulled the tied laces over his arm and positioned the knot toward the crest of his rounded shoulder, “Well, as I said, I’m the sole survivor, but there were 19 other members. All dead now.”

  He stole a glance at the column of soldiers on his right. One soldier was angered - the man who had almost plucked Kinch’s eye with his sword. The soldier was clenching his jaw, aware of the new danger as he scrutinized the boy.

  Lost the advantage on the right, Kinch thought. You’ll be the first.

  Kinch surveyed the bank of windows behind the stage. Three stories up, but large windows to let in the light. The windows were step six, last step. Let’s do this.

  Flavius further pressed the question, “All dead and you are the lone survivor? A refugee, seeking asylum?”

  Kinch took a deep breath and raised his head in exasperation. He stared down at his bare feet and released a long exhale, “Yeah, I think we have covered this ground, can we move this along? I’d like to get to the part where we all laugh and say this is just a misunderstanding and I’m free to go as long as you never see my face in this courtroom again.”

  Senator Flavius held his gaze, a crooked smile forming on his lips, “My apologizes to disappoint you.” He nodded to the soldier at Kinch’s right, “Kill him.”

  The room exploded into motion. The guards from the front, back and sides lunged forward, swords drawn. Kinch dipped his shoulder and grabbed the front boot with his bound hands. He spun to his left, the free boot flinging from his shoulder and extending four feet beyond his reach. He continued his spin, holding the boot and its trailing twin like a deadly hammer throw event.

  The boot crashed into the surprised soldiers on the right and veered upwards, missing the soldier who had anticipated the attack. Kinch continued to torque more spin and pulled down hard, whipping the steel boot through the advancing soldiers on the left. He whipped the wire hard again towards the lone soldier remaining on the right, his face erupting in blood as the rotating projectile smashed its way through its orbit.

  Kinch spun another, faster rotation gaining speed leaning out to crash into the remaining golden soldiers in the rear, then hefted the ellipsis of his orbit and let the boots fly towards the bank of windows. Kinch did not watch to insure their passage, but jumped straight up into the air seven feet at the sound of advancing footsteps behind him.

  He came down, hands intertwined into a giant fist, slamming into the back of Tinnius’ head. Kinch followed him down, riding his back, ripping at the ring of keys on his belt. Kinch rolled from the soldier, keys in hand, and grabbed Tinnius’ silver sword. Tinnius looked up to see Kinch standing above him counting the downed golden soldiers and assessing the bravery of the approaching Coccino soldiers.

  The gallery became a wave of motion towards the rear doors as people tried to get away from the danger. Kinch looked down at Tinnius, “Thank you,” he said nodding to the sword.

  He turned and ran toward the stage, leaping high over the Coccino soldiers and landing on the table seating Flavius and Justinius. They fell back into their chair as he brought the sword blade down to the Senator’s chest.

  Flavius examined the silver blade and then smiled up to Kinch with his cold, black eyes, “I was correct to believe your people would not have changed in the past two thousand years. It is your nature.” He guided the blade aside with two fingers, “Perhaps I can offer you something.”


  Kinch worked the key into the wrist lock as he returned the blade to rest on Flavius’ neck, cutting short the man’s offer. “I have nothing. I want nothing. Only to be left alone.”

  The wrist lock dropped on the stone table with a loud clank. Kinch jumped over their heads to a small ledge containing columns. He jumped ten feet to a ledge and then another short hop to the window. He looked down to see the Magistrate and Senator facing him, the soldiers with swords drawn and lowered, and two stationary figures in the gallery, Amica and Lucius. He swung a leg over the window ledge and was gone.

  Arx

  Kinch perched on the wide roof ledge of the tall Coccino public building. He jumped to the ridge of the roof line, gripping the clay tiles with his bare feet. Climbing to the apex, the Coccino district of Subura sprawled below. He located the marketplace Lucius and he had visited and followed the main road through the shabby buildings, apartments and rundown shops to an ancient stone temple with a courtyard, Amica’s home. Here the road thinned into a worn cart path. Vast agricultural fields stretched upwards in neat low-walled terraced fields to the red rock wall of the cavern.

  The Subura and adjacent fields were surrounded on all sides by an immense box canyon, the high walls of a great cavern chamber stretching to the white glowing ceiling. Kinch marveled at the technological accomplishment of the ceiling, turning to find a contrast which stunned him. Not only did the glowing dome stretch over miles of expansive cavern, but a huge, beautiful, white and gold city unfolded before him.

  A shining capital was accented with large Roman buildings, amphitheaters and a huge coliseum. Beyond the city were the ramparts of a long red stone fortress wall. The great wall towered fifty feet and twenty feet thick. It spanned the entrance to the cavern canyon, connecting the opposite sides of the cavern in a formidable defensive structure. The remaining three sides of Arx were protected by the natural rock walls.

  He had been to the Coccino Subura and only saw red people. Senator Flavius and his people must live in the high rent district.