by C. J. Nash
“But he did something to someone?”
“Mr. Turner…” Beth began.
“Call me Mason.”
“Okay. Mason, you’ve not been among the colonists long enough to understand anything about them. My husband claims that he knows these people, but he just sits in the governor’s office and hosts parties and makes a decision every now and then. Janet does all his real work. Janet interfaces with the people for him. I love my husband but he doesn’t actually live on Mars. He doesn’t understand the colonists at all.
“When I came here, I was lonely. I had left all my friends behind on Earth. I didn’t have an important job that kept me busy, so I went out and mingled with the colonists. I got to know them. They are really better people than any that I had called friends back home and to be honest, I don’t want to go home when my husband’s term is up. It doesn’t matter what I want; we wouldn’t be allowed to stay even if Bart wanted to—which he doesn’t.
“But that’s not what I need to talk about, is it? I love these people, and I believe I understand them as well as any outsider could ever understand them. It is a hardship just to exist on this planet but they give the impression that they have everything anyone could ever desire. I watch the children playing. They have games about sealing air leaks. They make games about conserving water. I swear that every child can tell you exactly how many chickens are currently living on the farm and that number changes every day. These people are invested in the colony. I have heard the words ever vigilant until I am sick of hearing them. Then I catch myself using those same damned words.
“But I guess I’m still rambling. It’s the secrets that hold them together. You know about The Day of Secrets? Oh! Of course, you do. That’s why you can’t get anybody to talk to you.” Beth gave a little laugh. “That day is something that they came up with for the good of the colony. I’m sure that you think it is a night of wanton sex where everyone can just screw whomever they want to without any consequences. The truth is that very few women ever participate. Those who do will pick a man because they believe that he has something worthwhile to contribute genetically. They will take fertility drugs to improve their chances of pregnancy that night. They’re not doing it for the sex.
“Getting back to The Day of Secrets. What happens on that night is never spoken of. A woman will never hurt her husband by telling him that another partner might be his genetic superior. A man will not brag to his wife about the number of women that he entertained on that night. They use silence to protect the ones that they love.
“But it is not just The Day of Secrets. There are other secrets. The colony is small and a person can rarely do anything that someone else doesn’t know about. But if they know anything hurtful, they keep silent; anger and resentment could rip a small community like this to shreds. It’s not like they can get away from a scandal by moving to the next city. Whatever happens, they have to live with it. And the best way to live with it is to trust others to be silent when mistakes are made.
“Most importantly, silence is used to protect those who can’t protect themselves. Silence protects the innocents whose lives have already been destroyed. No one dares to do even more damage to those innocents by telling their secrets.
“Even though I would give everything if I could stay in this colony for the remainder of my life, still I am not and will never be a colonist. That is why I can tell you what happened on The Day of Secrets when Mr. Echols received his justice.
“There were others who knew what I had planned to do. I won’t reveal their names even though several wanted him dead even more than I did. But none of them could kill another human being; they hold life sacred you know. The Day of Secrets was nearing so I knew that that would be my best opportunity. I dressed in my sexiest evening gown and joined the women at one of the parties. I had made my rounds to all the parties on the previous Day of Secrets and there was nothing suspicious about me being at this one.
“I visited two other parties before I reached the house where Mr. Echols lived. The door was unlocked; I had expected it to be. He was dressed in a robe waiting for any female that might call on him. There would be no others—word had spread that he was off limits that night. That he was off limits all the women knew, but only a very few actually knew why. He offered me a drink and I almost accepted. I really wanted something to give me courage but I was afraid that a drink might fog my brain—that I might not be able to accomplish what I had set out to do. I did encourage him to drink though.
“Each time he poured himself a drink, I removed an item of my clothing. It had been several years since I had stood naked before any man other than my husband but I couldn’t afford to be embarrassed. I pretended cool indifference as my clothing dropped to the floor. The vile things he said about me as I undressed—the things he called me…But still, I pretended that I wanted him. I got that slimy son-of-bitch undressed and onto the bed. I wanted to vomit when I climbed on top of him. I had that damned letter opener and I just stabbed him and stabbed him and stabbed him—I don’t know how many times.”
“It was three times—that’s all. Just three.”
“It seemed like more. I wanted it to be more, but that damned letter opener slipped out of my hand and I couldn’t get a grip on it anymore. It was slick with blood and that damned glass was impossible to grasp. Do you know why they make everything out of glass here in the colony?”
“Yeah, they told me.”
“And I just sat on top of that bastard and watched him bleed out. When there was no more blood, I took a shower. Then I got dressed and went on to the next party and pretended that nothing had happened. Pretended that I could ever forget the sight of his blood spilling from his chest.” A stream of tears ran down Beth’s face. “So, what do we do now?”
“I don’t know yet. You’ve told me how you killed him, but you never actually told me why.”
Beth laughed. “Did I really leave that part out? They came to me and asked what could be done. No, they went to Janet first. Everyone trusts Janet. Everybody loves Janet. I guess that she’s the second most powerful person in the colony after the Farmer. You would think that my husband, the governor, would be the most powerful, but he’s not even close—maybe number twenty. No, I might be even more powerful than he is. So make me number twenty, and that would make him twenty-one.
“Anyway, Janet is my husband’s personal assistant so they figured that she would know what to do. She couldn’t help them but she told them that they needed to talk to me. I wish she hadn’t. I didn’t know what to do; I only knew the one solution. I killed him.”
“But why did you kill him?”
“I keep avoiding that, don’t I? I told you about the secrets. The colonists keep silent about a lot of things. The silence protects them from pain, from embarrassment, from anger. But the most important silence is the silence that protects those who can’t protect themselves. Silence can be a shield that they can stand behind while the wounds heal. But you also have to know when to break the silence.
“When those women went to Janet, they knew that the time for silence was past. And then they came to me because they trusted me—well, Janet trusted me. Me—an outsider. They could have never gone to my husband. I couldn’t go to him—he doesn’t understand the colonists. He is unable to understand the need for silence. He would have insisted on a trial as if every criminal deserves his day in court. There would be no more secrets, only pain. They came to me and I had to make things right.
“I see that look you are giving me. You’re wondering if I’m ever going to tell you the secret that I keep avoiding. Prosecute me if you must, but I will never publicly disclose the reason that I killed Mr. Echols, and you can’t either. He was a predator. He did bad things to young girls—evil things. I won’t tell you their ages; it really doesn’t matter. But they became withdrawn; they were no longer the sweet, innocent girls that they had once been. The mothers were finally able to break down the barrier of silence between them and their
innocent children and that is when they went to Janet. That’s when they came to me.
“There were several mothers that came to me, asking what could be done. How could this monster be stopped without hurting the innocent children even further? I won’t tell you exactly how many there were. And I’m certain that there were others that I’ll never know about. Others that I don’t want to know about. I couldn’t help but think that he was capable of doing those horrid things even to my own child. And I’ll never know for certain that he did not.
“His wife knew but she didn’t know what to do about it. She came to me also. She couldn’t cancel the marriage contract. If she did, what could she do? She couldn’t allow that monster to be alone with her girls. And she wouldn’t be able to prevent it unless she gave up the secrets of the children that he had victimized. I just did what they could not do.
“You’ve got my confession. I killed that monster. If I had it to do over, I would kill him again. I never wanted to kill anyone but it had to be done. You probably will never understand why I did what I did so I am placing myself in your custody. I have nothing further to add.”
Chapter 25
JUSTICE
There were four people seated at the Farmer’s dining table, Eddie MacDonald, Mason Turner, Janet Edwards and Beth Richardson.
Mason spoke, “Here are my findings concerning the death of a Mr. Lawrence Echols: Even though I was able to collect DNA evidence that may have belonged to the killer, there is no record of that DNA in the colony database. A search of the criminal database on Earth also returned no match. Further, the crime was committed on a holiday that is unique to the Mars colony called The Day of Secrets. Apparently, nothing that happens on that day will ever be spoken of by any member of the colony. The person who committed the crime, any possible conspirators and any possible witnesses will never present any evidence that can be used to apprehend the killer. I see no possible means to prosecute that unknown person.”
The Farmer asked, “Is that what you are going to put into your official report?”
“No,” Mason replied. “The governor will have to write the official report. I can’t possibly write it. Officially, I’m dead.”
Chapter 26
OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM
(EE-AYE-EE-AYE-OH!)
The Farmer lay beneath an apple tree and peered through the branches at a clear blue sky. “Still no clouds,” he mused. “Maybe someday.”
There was a rustle in the tree above him. A girl of seven (about fourteen in Earth years) swatted at a honeybee. “Beth,” the Farmer warned. “Don’t even think of killing one of my bees.”
“I won’t, daddy.” Beth tugged at her woolen socks. Temperature remained constant in the colony and there was really no need for socks, but wool had become the height of fashion since the sheep had reached maturity.
“How about throwing me an apple,” the Farmer requested.
Beth gave her sock another tug and glanced around to ensure that others were admiring her woolsies. “Catch!” she exclaimed as she tossed a perfect red orb.
Johnnie, who was only three, leapt over the Farmer and caught the apple, taking a bite in mid-air. Johnnie swallowed the bite and sat on the Farmer’s stomach. “Here’s your apple, daddy.”
The Farmer bit into the apple, hugged his son and tickled the exposed ribs.
“Daddy,” asked Johnnie, “why is your last name different from ours?”
“Because,” said the Farmer proudly, “I am the Farmer. And the Farmer’s name is always in the song.”
“Sing it, Daddy,” encouraged Beth.
“Old MacDonald had a farm,
Ee-Aye-Ee-Aye-OH!
And on his farm he had some chicks,
Ee-Aye-Ee-Aye-OH!
With a chick-chick here and a chick-chick there,”
Janet joined the Farmer, grasping his hand and placing it lovingly on her belly.
“Here a chick, there a chick, everywhere a chick-chick.
Here a buzz, there a buzz, everywhere a buzz-buzz.
Here a baa, there a baa, everywhere a baa-baa.
Old MacDonald had a farm,
Ee-Aye-Ee-Aye-OH!”
Mason smiled up at his children and patted Janet’s very swollen belly. “And by the time this one is born, there will be a moo-moo here and a moo-moo there.”
Over time, the members of Lazarus were awakened and integrated into the colony.
But that is another story…
THE END
About the Author
Carl J. England writing under the pen name C. J. Nash, was born in Calhoun, a small town in Northwest Georgia. He spent four years in the military where he belonged to one of the many “Alphabet” agencies. After leaving the military, he returned to his home town where he currently resides with his wife, Donna. Their three sons are all adults, which leaves Carl time to pursue his lifelong passion of writing.
Also by the Author
The Ethics of Silence
Five Million Reasons (Coming Soon)
About the Publisher
Kingston Publishing Company, founded by C. K. Green and Michelle Areaux, is dedicated to providing authors an affordable way to turn their dream into a reality. We publish over 100+ titles annually in multiple formats including print and ebook across all major platforms.
We offer every service you will ever need to take an idea and publish a story. We are here to help authors make it in the industry. We want to provide a positive experience that will keep you coming back to us. Whether you want a traditional publisher who offers all the amenities a publishing company should or an author who prefers to self-publish, but needs additional help – we are here for you.
Now Accepting Manuscripts!
Please send query letter and manuscript to:
[email protected]
Visit our website at
www.kingstonpublishing.com