Holtz looks at him in concern. “Our unity of thought is not a matter of permission. For us in most things, it is a matter of consensus. Knowing what most people believe, feeling it inside you, is different to reading it on a page or hearing the words spoken aloud. When you feel the weight of opinions in your chest, such that you can balance one against another, unity becomes inevitable on most matters. But on this subject — the biggest of them all — our views are as many and varied as humanity’s faith in God. It is a topic we tend to avoid discussing. Nobody ever changes their mind.”
“But you can tell me,” say Borman. “I’m an outsider. Give me the version of Martian history as you see it. I’m sure Jim here would like to hear it too.”
She stares at them oddly, and for the first time Borman gets a sense of how strange it must feel to have two aliens standing in her home.
“Very well,” she decides. “A group of elite Martian scientists found a way to create a new space for themselves, in an entirely different dimension. A higher vibrational frequency that exists in the same physical location, but is a different place altogether. It was an advancement that, many years earlier the Befalyn — the Ryl — had a hand in developing. It is similar to the ability to dimensionally fold space-time in order to move from one place to another instantly. But it is not the preferred means of transportation for the Ryl. Some of their people lost their minds by using this process too frequently. Martians, however, suffered no such ill effects.
“Whether it was professional jealousy or sheer bloody-minded frustration, over time the Ryl’s relationship soured with the Martian scientists, who then chose to cut ties between them. This angered the Ryl, who felt they were being betrayed. And as that tension developed, the Ryl showed themselves to be the more belligerent of antagonists. As the enmity rose, so too did their demands for appeasement and reparation.
“The Martians were, in part, compromised by their decision to cut ties. The Ryl demanded they be allowed to live on Mars. When this demand was rejected, they waged a terrible war upon the planet. They sent a terrible rain of fire down upon the surface of our planet.”
“I saw a depiction of that,” says Borman. “At the gateway on Phobos.”
“With their spacecraft and their mastery of antigravity, the Befalyn turned the asteroid belt into a weapon that wrought terrible destruction upon the face of Mars.”
Borman holds up his hands to stop her. “Wait a moment… Tell me more about this antigravity.”
“By manipulating noble metals like gold and palladium into a high-spin state, they alter their properties. By breaking them down into single atomic particles, these metals exhibit properties that allow them to exist simultaneously in two dimensions. The net result of this is that they weigh less than nothing. They are antigravitational. By this same process, the Ryl were able to lift the great blocks of stone with which they built the pyramids at Giza.”
Borman laughs in disbelief. “Come on, now.”
“Do you truly believe Egyptians placed those stone blocks in such precision simply with slave labor and brute force?”
“To be honest, I’ve never thought about it.” One of the great secrets of Earth’s ancient history, revealed almost as an afterthought. “You’re saying this is the force the Ryl used to hurl asteroids at Mars?”
“They began small, with rocks the size of boulders. These had a powerful impact, but the effects were localized. As time passed, when Mars still refused to agree to their terms, the asteroids grew larger.”
Jim shakes his head. “Does any of this sound familiar, Frank?”
“The bombing of North Vietnam is what it sounds like.”
Holtz continues. “Soon our skies turned dark as smoke and dust filled the atmosphere. The air was unbreathable. But then they hit us with something far worse. The weapon they had saved for the end.”
“What could be worse than an asteroid barrage?”
Holtz says, “They shut down the planet’s magnetic field.”
“Ningal admitted as much to me. But how did they do it?”
“I do not know. I do not wish to know. It is not something anyone should know.”
Borman says, “Our astrophysicists tell us Mars lost its magnetic field billions of years ago.”
There are tears in her eyes as she shakes her head slowly. “Not so long.” She looks at him, eyes wide, a fierce determination burning through the remembered pain. “Which is why you must choose your words wisely before the Council of One.”
38
Holtz and Skioth face one another, eyes closed, foreheads touching and hands clasped behind each other’s heads. By this strange mode of meditation, they materialize a unique and unusual craft that will transport Borman and Jim to the Martian capital. It is a remarkable process to watch. A union of two minds clearly makes their telekinesis much more powerful. Borman wonders what might be achieved by a roomful of like-minded Martians all bent on the same purpose.
The aircraft first appears as a white outline, as if drawn in chalk upon the stone floor of the terrace. Holtz holds out her arm, the signal for Borman and Jim to step closer. The four of them huddle together as the ground beneath them changes form and starts to slowly rise, like a pancake on a griddle. It is a large egg-shaped wing, flat on the top where they are standing. With a gentle pop, the craft separates itself from the ground and slowly floats into the air, wobbling momentarily. Borman grabs Holtz by the arm to keep his balance.
As it lifts them slowly into the air, its edges continue to spread like pancake mix poured around the edges of the pan — except now that pan is twenty or thirty feet below them. By the time they are high enough to look down on the hilltop above Holtz’s house, the wing spans maybe fifty feet by forty feet. There is no protection from the elements, no seats nor barriers to prevent them falling.
Jim is grinning like a schoolkid. “This is going to be incredible.”
They are the first foreign tourists in the history of the Martian new world.
Holtz and Skioth are the pilots. They stand in the center of the platform, directing their craft. There are no controls; they steer by focused thought. Borman steps as close to the edge as he dares while they begin to move with increasing speed across the forest treetops. It feels rather like he’s riding a large round surfboard on a current of air. A gentle breeze flows over them from the open sky above, but there is virtually no wind resistance despite their rapid acceleration.
The trees seem to be waving at them. “Wow,” cries Jim. “Look!”
A flock of large blue and red birds rises from the trees. There are thousands of them, surrounding them in moments and somehow matching their pace, flying in crazy zig-zags. They sing loudly, like a bunch of noisy teenagers having the time of their lives. It’s such a remarkable sight Borman is laughing from the joy of it.
Their escort stays with them until they reach the furthest edge of the forest, where the trees meet the sea. Here, the birds part like a curtain, as if releasing them into the wider world. The flock heads back toward the forest, as the Martian aircraft continues its journey over the sea, picking up speed all the while. Eventually, they are so far away from the land they left behind that the sea is all Borman can see in any direction.
An ocean. On Mars. The water is the most beautiful shade of aqua he has ever seen. He has an almost overwhelming desire to dive into its depths. This must be what it was like on Earth before the dawn of mankind, when the entire planet was still pristine. Holtz places a hand on Borman’s back and smiles, and he realizes despite his misgivings he trusts her. He stares down at the surface of the water and sees a multitude of creatures swimming in the depths. Fish like dolphins and seals, and a massive creature, half whale and half crocodile, that breaches out of the water and splashes back down on the surface with incredible force. It’s as if the ocean has been waiting patiently for his attention to turn on a display.