Haydn of Mars

by Al Sarrantonio

  There was chaos in front of us. I shouted, “Charge them!” and our small and tired army, suddenly energized and filled with hope, climbed our barricades and made for the scattered F’rar ranks.

  Behind us I heard a war cry. I turned in wonder to see rank upon rank of reinforcements, well armed and disciplined, rushing to join us. At their head was the pirate Pelltier, who swept up beside me on his horse, smiling hugely. “Girly!” he shouted, doffing his cap, and then he rode by, pulling his sword from its sheath and wading into the chaotic mass of F’rar. I spurred my mount and followed.

  The giant airship drew away after decimating the enemy lines, and left the rest of it to us on the ground. We made quick work of them. I saw a bright patch of red in the middle of the fray, and made my way steadily toward it, fighting as I went.

  When I reached it I found Frane’s blood red cloak hanging empty on a spear mounted tight in the ground.

  “Frane!” I shouted. “Show yourself, usurper!”

  Around me, the battle wound down. Xarr rode up with an exultant, flushed look on his old face.

  “It was a miracle!” he cried.

  “Even better than one. It was the Science Guild.” I gave him orders for organizing prisoners, of which there were hundreds, if not thousands. “Remember,” I reminded him, “put no one to the sword.”

  Then I rode to the rear to find, as I expected, my friend Newton.

  He had landed his monstrous black flying machine in the valley behind our lines, and was studying its back end, which was composed of two huge round ports.

  “Now you know what we do in our cellars,” he greeted me, smiling. He pointed to the west, where a second flying ship lay nestled beside a third.

  I embraced him, with an enthusiasm that startled him. “You saved us. You saved the monarchy!”

  “I heard about Talon’s weapon at Burroughs, and Kerl and Jeffrey,” he said, unsmiling. “I only wish we had arrived sooner.”

  “What’s done is done.”

  “You are with kit?” he asked, the amused, ironic tone returning to his voice. “This is what I hear.”

  “I am.”

  “Is Frane captured?”

  “No. But we will hunt her like a dog.”

  He snorted. “Apt. What will you do now?”

  “March on Wells.”

  “There is no need. Wells is free of the F’rar. There is celebration in the streets as we speak.”

  My head was reeling from the events of the last hours. “How did you get Pelltier to help?”

  Newton smiled. “I asked! He is a rogue, but a steadfast and true one. He believes in what you are doing. The rest, for him, was easy. He has raised armies before, when necessary. And besides, he likes you.”

  I laughed. “The last time I saw him, he offered to buy me from Jeffrey for his whorehouse.”

  Newton answered, “He has a whorehouse, Haydn. But he meant to buy you for his wife.”

  I said nothing, and then we both laughed.

  I was stunned by the events that had taken place on the very eve of our destruction. Now, a kind of ennui set in. It had much to do with the litter I bore, I knew. When the adrenaline was needed for battle, the body supplied it; but now that the battle was won, my kits took all my energy, leaving little for me.

  I was carried into Wells in triumph, and the sight of the old city caused tears to come to my eyes. Though its skyline had been altered by the F’rar destruction, its heart had not, and the people welcomed me back with what a fool might call love. Whatever it was – relief, patriotism, nostalgia for the past – I knew I had much work to do, and that it must be done quickly.

  A week after my return, when the celebrations had died down, I called Newton, Xarr and Jamie to counsel and put the question to them:

  “How long must I rule until I can reinstate the republic?”

  Jamie blurted: “It is impossible for you to even think about it at this point! There are still minor rebellions in some of the outlying cities. The people would fear another coup. Frankly, so do I!”

  Xarr said, “These so-called rebellions are little more than local disturbances over disruption of services and trade. They were caused as much by the F’rar as by the rebellion against them. A few local leaders have been jailed over the... let us say, vociferousness of their protest. These protests are diminishing. I would counsel a cautious approach to reinstatement of the republic at this point, but only because I am a cautious man. Too much change in too little time can be disruptive in itself.”

  Newton said, choosing his words carefully, “You already know my opinion, my lady. The republic cannot return too soon for me.”

  I noted his ironic smile and the twinkle in his eye as I answered. “I tend to agree with Newton. Whatever the consequences, the republic should be reinstated with all speed.”

  Jamie, much agitated, said, “Can I counsel that my Queen wait until the new council chambers are completed in the spring? It is only five weeks away. You will have your kits by then, and the people will be used to new ideas again. It will take months just to organize elections, after the chaos the F’rar imposed. And speaking of the F’rar...”

  “They will be represented in the new government,” I announced simply.

  Jamie was startled, and so, I saw, was Xarr. Only Newton retained his bemused look.

  “That is impossible!” Jamie protested. That declaration alone would cause renewed fighting in the streets!”

  “They must be represented,” I answered, “or there will never be stability. They are the largest and most powerful clan on Mars, too large to ignore. The leaders of their recent usurpation, including and especially Frane, must be caught and brought to justice, but after that the F’rar must be represented.”

  “It was the mistake your father made!” Jamie began bitterly.

  “We will not make the mistake this time of allowing one group to dominate the Assembly. I am working on safeguards to prevent this.”

  I noted the broadening of Newton’s wry smile. We had already had many talks about this, and I looked forward to many more. “You must realize, Jamie, and you too, Xarr, that great scientific changes are coming. We must be ready for them, and institute them for the good of our people. As Newton has informed you, our planet may be slowly losing its atmosphere. For this reason alone we need unity, to combat it. The republic I envision is not the one that was so recently overthrown. It will be stronger, and even more representative.”

  Jamie was about to speak but I held up my hand, suddenly tired.

  “We will speak of these things again. I’m afraid I must rest now.”

  The meeting adjourned, but Jamie, as I expected, stayed behind.

  Lying back on my pillow, half closing my eyes, I smiled at my old page. “I know how you feel,” I said, feeling even more tired than I had a moment before. “Believe me, I’ve always known how you feel. But I believe in my heart that I am on the right course.”

  “Your father was a fool, but not a complete one,” Jamie said. He could not hide the bitterness in his voice. “He knew as soon as he declared the republic that he had made a mistake. But by then, it was too late. It is the monarchy that will bring stability to the planet. Do you really think the people have changed all that much since the recent F’rar atrocities that they are ready for self-determination again?”

  “All I can say is that I hope so,” I replied. “It has been my belief from the beginning.”

  There was silence, and I opened my eyes to see Jamie glaring at me, his paws clenched. He turned and stalked out of the room.

  “My Queen, I fear you are a bigger fool than your father.”

  I lay back, and let out a long breath. I could feel the stirrings of life within me. One of the kits – I was sure there were at least two – gave me a kick that almost tickled.

  I gave a short laugh.

  “I will see you before too long, little one,” I whispered, feeling the cool breeze of the afternoon wash over me from the open window. I wa
s drifting off to sleep and it felt like luxury. “And then perhaps you and I will make them all understand...”

  Twenty Three

  It was a glorious spring. Perhaps the creator had looked down on us, and seen us a good people, worthy of beauty and trust. Or perhaps, as Newton claimed, always in his wry, fatherly way, we were lucky with meteorological patterns and would doubtless be unlucky again in future springs.

  Whatever the cause, I reveled in it. This litter, I found, was much harder to carry than the first. Also, I was not as young as I had been. I felt weary much of the time, and was confined to bed for long stretches. Also, due to Newton’s scolding, I gave up my precious cigarettes. But the glorious weather – cool fresh mornings, a light, warm wind in the afternoons carrying the scent of blooming flowers, followed by windless cool nights resplendent with stars – made the lassitude not only bearable but enjoyable. I felt almost like a kit myself again.

  Work on the new Hall of Assembly was going splendidly. On days when I did feel up to travel I allowed myself to be transported the short distance to the site and watch the work commence. The new building, of pink sandstone, was covered by a web of scaffolding, but one could see it taking shape: a tall, plain, proud structure, devoid of ornamentation save for the edifice itself, which would end at its apex with a point. In symbolism, it would point to the heavens and to the future. These words, and none other, would be carved above its doors.

  Since work had now risen above the intervening rooftops, on days when I could not visit I could now watch the progress from my own window. It would not be long before that finishing spire was set in place, and the Second Republic of Mars could be declared.

  I had spent nearly all of my intervening time on the declaration I would make in a matter of weeks. I had decided that on the very day of my coronation, I would dissolve the monarchy. It would be a fitting end, and a fitting beginning. After much consultation and thought, I had decided that the seeds of the first republic lay in its very formation. A hall of squabbling senators could never rule effectively, but they could rule as part of a government, as one arm held in check by others. I contemplated an Assembly of the People which would break the rule of the clans by circumventing its leaders. Only common citizens could be elected to it by other common citizens from their own region. In addition, there would be a single Minister with little power save over the two governing bodies. This Minister would be in effect a referee. It was a fascinating concept, and I spent most of my waking hours refining it.

  While doing so one fine day in our finest of springs, I was visited in the Queen’s chamber by Pelltier the pirate.

  I nearly burst into laughter when, after being announced, he entered. He was dressed in a ridiculous getup, his or someone else’s idea of formal clothes. I had never met a man, except perhaps the Mighty, who was ever least disposed toward formal attire.

  I could not help a single blurt of laughter, which made him frown.

  “You don’t approve, no?” he asked. He could barely move his neck in the high collar he wore, over a stiff white shirt and brown breeches that looked newly woven, they were so stiff. Even his boots looked new and uncreased by wear.

  “Who dressed you?”

  He scowled. “I dress myself, my lady.” He bowed. “I also vow never to call you my girly again.”

  He blushed, and I was so touched that my own wish to make fun of him vanished.

  “What is it I can do for you today, Pelltier?” A waft of flower-scented breeze washed over me, making me languidly sleepy.

  “You work?” he said, pointing to the documents on the table before me and advancing in a stiff way.

  “Yes, I work. Why don’t you remove those ridiculous boots?”

  “He tell me I must dress like a gentleman to see the Queen.”

  “Who is ‘he’?”

  “The man he sell me dese clothes!”

  I smiled. “Well, Pelltier, it seems that for the first time in your life you have been pirated.”

  He cocked his head, thinking, and then burst out laughing: “My lady is right! I am robbed!”

  With a scoffing motion, he unbuttoned the top of his collar and sat down on the floor. With some effort, he pulled off his boots.

  “That is much better!” he said with relief when he was done.

  “I want to thank you for all your help at the Battle of Bradbury,” I said.

  He stood, breathing easier, and waved a hand in dismissal. “That is nothing. I do it for you and would do it again. You are my Queen. And...”

  “Yes?”

  He suddenly fell to one knee. “And I ask you for betrothal!”

  I must have blinked, startled, because his face locked with determination and he crawled forward on his knees, holding his paws out. “Betroth me, my Queen!”

  “Pelltier, stand up!” I sputtered, trying to make it sound like a royal command.

  He stood up quickly, nearly at eye level with me now. His face looked tortured and confused. “No woman has ever done these things to me before! No woman has ever made me want to give up piracy and live as her complete slave!”

  “Pelltier!”

  “I do not care if you know it – if the world knows it! I, Pelltier, love you, my Queen! I would raise your kits as my own, and love them as much as I love you! I have felt this way always!”

  I had recovered somewhat. I bade him sit down, which he did. I reclined in my chair, feeling very much tired. Pelltier must have noticed this because he rushed to me, his face flushed with concern.

  “Are you all right, my lady?”

  “Yes, Pelltier. Please, sit back down and we will talk.”

  He did so, and began talking himself. “Pelltier is so confused, my lady! Ever since I see you again, on the field of battle, my mind is twirling like a child’s top! You must give me your answer!”

  “I will give you my answer, Pelltier,” I said, calmly, “but first I must tell you that when I first met you I completely misunderstood your intentions. I thought you wanted me for one of your...” I waved my hand, trying not to say the word.

  He barked a sudden laugh. “Ha! You think I want you for a concubine! This is foolish!”

  “Yes, it is foolish, but it is what I thought. And now we have just met again recently, and I realize my mistake, and I now understand your intentions...” Again I waved my hand, and suddenly his frown went away and he nodded.

  “Ah, I see! The lady does not wish to betroth her Pelltier!”

  I said gently, “Actually, that is true...”

  “I see! Very well!” He stood up briskly. I thought he was angry but there was a look almost of relief on his face. “Then I am free to go!”

  “Of course you are free to go! Why wouldn’t you be?”

  “If the lady had accepted my proposal, then Pelltier would have had to stay here, in the city of Wells, forever! And it would unman him!”

  “But I thought–”

  He bowed. “The lady will always be in my heart! This will not change.” When he looked up his eyes were hard and firm. “I would do anything for you, my lady, anything to protect you. Pelltier will always feel this way. But now, after the ceremonies, I will return to the places I love, in the Northwest.”

  Sensing his seriousness and the burdens of his heart, I did not smile and bowed my head. I hoped I looked regal.

  “Pelltier is a good servant and a good man. And I am only sorry that my heart was not in the same place as his.”

  He bowed again. “Thank you, my lady.”

  He backed out of the room, spying his boots and then scuttling forward to grab them. As he got to the door he turned his head up to me and smiled mischievously. “And now, I shall visit that tailor, my lady,” he said with a wink, and withdrew.

  I lay back, exhausted.

  I could not wait for the moment of my coronation, so that I could immediately renounce it, and with it all the ceremony such as I had just endured.

  Twenty Four

  Finally, the day of my ki
ts’ birthing arrived.

  I was confined to bed for the entire last week, which came as a relief of sorts. Jamie and my other advisors handled much of the day to day work, leaving me free to watch the completion of the new Hall of Assembly from my window. Fittingly, the pointing spire was mounted on the very morning of the day I gave birth to my beautiful son and daughter.

  Sebastian, named after Johann Sebastian Bach, the Old One composer in Newton’s book, came first, and, by order of succession, this cursed him in my mind because, by rule of monarchy, he was firstborn. And then my little Amy, named for Amy Beach, came. Compared to the littering, the births were easy, and afterward, as I listened to their sweet mewling cries, I entered into a swoon such as I had never known, a dreamy place of serenity and contentment where the problems of my world receded to nonexistence. One of the nursemaids told me that I had muttered Kerl’s name in my half sleep, and this may very well have been so. I resided in a sort of nirvana for a time, all of my memory’s making, where my mother held me and my father beamed down on me with his stern wisdom, and all of the loves of my life stood round about me as I held my two new kits. I awoke from this half dream to see that it was true to the extent that my two kits were swaddled beside me, clean and looking slick as little monkeys, their tiny pinched faces closed with slumber. I held them so close that I felt their tiny ticking heartbeats. For a while, the contentment of my dream was made real.

  They grew strong, and so did I. I awoke one late morning three days after the birth to see Jamie in my chamber, standing mesmerized over the two kits in their matching basinets. There was such a look of astonishment, almost awe on his features that I startled him with my laugh.

  He turned, apologizing. “I’m sorry–”

  “They won’t bite, you know, if you want to pick one up.”