Jazz and I sat staring at shiny domed living spaces contrasted by clumsy brown and orange stone dwellings spread out over a kilometer. Webbed Paths of gray connected them all.

It never ceased to amaze me how the centuries old metal half spheres seemed impervious to time. The small, round viewing ports resisted the thick dust that attacked all else. The doors glided open with a gentle touch. This polished material was a treasure forgotten through thousands of orbits of technological ignorance. Replaced by methods of construction dating back before man had thought of leaving earth, at least the records I often read suggested this.

The stone structures were crude squares of stacked rock. Some with gaping holes for windows with salvaged metal shutters. The patchwork doors drug the ground. Generations newer than their glistening counterparts, but hardly comparable.

We watched over the convoy of The Way Of Deimos for the rest of its journey to Star Light Rise, where we waited. They marched painstakingly slow. Refusing to make use of the many remaining vehicles in the sacred land. The faith viewed remnants of advanced Martian civilization as curses to be avoided, so as not to bring their deity’s wrath. Something I remembered well. I gave the device on my arm a quick glance. It doesn’t stop them from using the living spaces or any of the other life-giving amenities; I thought bitterly.

We hadn’t seen Owls since he and his carriers had entered the largest of the bulbus buildings, the temple of the moon, at the far end of the settlement. Impatience, and the soreness of the previous confrontations getting the better of me. “What’s taking so long? I hate being here,” I said, staring at the locals as they wandered about in a pointless vision of living.

It wasn’t so much that I hated the people. They ignored me as best they could, their faith demanded it, but my fight with the heathen left the HAG exposed. Their eyes scrutinized the device as they passed. I folded my arms behind my back to hide it.

It was a deliberate measure that inquisitors weren’t trying to run us through. Any time heathens or outcast entered a settlement controlled by the faith, it was their job to push them out. Usually suffering high casualties because of their poor weapon choice. But Owls called his protectors off and convinced his sheep not to be afraid of Jazz and me. They still kept an excessive distance between us. And I didn’t mind.

“You know that fool aint going to meet in the street, right? He gonna send a puppet out to fetch us. You got somewhere to be?” Jazz asked.

“As a matter of fact, I want to get my stuff and leave.”

“You didn’t have to come; I could have brought the goods home like normal.”

He had me on that one. I rarely went into settlements. Seeing these sights often grudged up things I tried to keep buried. But I had a plan. And this would be good practice, though my mentor was still intentionally working on my nerves. I bit my lip and drew in a heavy breath. The smell of foods and the musk of crowded people caused me to close my eyes.

Pain, rejection. I felt so helpless

I cry desperately as flames rise.

“Tsk,” I hissed through my teeth. The memories were just below the surface. Not to my surprise.

“Hey, you see that smoke?” Jazz asked

I spotted a thin column of dark wispy cloud rising far to the northwest. Ignoring the instinct to use the HAG magnification window, I let curiosity wash down my annoyance. “That’s about where that meteorite hit, isn’t it?” The smoke was rising just to the left of distant Pavonis mons.

“Yeah, but I don’t think a strike would still be making smoke. There’s nothing to burn in the red. Only rocks and mearth, no terraforming. If it big’nuff to leave a hot puddle, it would have created havoc even this far away.”

“It’s a good place for me to look.”

Jazz gave a sharp glance from the corner of his eye. “Great place to find a lot of noth’n.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. Seems there’s something burning.” My volume increased and my skin heated.

“There we are,” he said, jerking his chin right.

Nice dodge. Sure enough, a white-robed man stared from the far end of the travel path, His expression blank. I blew a breath through my lips as irritability bubbled. “Oh scary, an inquisitor. You think Owls will exile us again?” I did not curb my sarcasm.

Inquisitors were the worst of the faith followers. It was their job to protect law and order and Owls himself, the mighty pontifex. They didn’t know which part of the spear was the dangerous one. Bunch of bullies exempt from the crazy rules of the faith.

“Well, let’s go get paid, kid,” Jazz said. Marching away.

I looked to the west again. Maybe there really is more out there, closer than I thought. Turning, I ran to catch up.

The inquisitor started walking long before we reached him, heading back towards the temple. Before entering, he turned sharply right and followed a stone and vine fence that skirted the perimeter. The structure, like all the others, was a half steel sphere protruding from the ground. The major difference was its tripled size with several tall, thin spires atop, pointing to the sky. To my knowledge, every large settlement had a building identical to this one. They must have been for communication before the exodus war. I decided, while we made our way past. As a child, I had so desperately wanted to see inside one.

“We should sneak in, wouldn’t that be fun, Ex?” Green eyes looked questioningly from under messy blonde hair.

-painful scream-

“You good?” The question broke off the memory.

“I...yeah, I’m fine,” I answered. The inquisitor leading us glared back at us. His rat face added to my sour mood, causing me to grit my teeth. Bastard.

Owls waited for us in a flattened area of firm, black ground. Corralled by steel pillars spaced evenly apart. The letter H from the ancient language painted in the center. None of these fools knew that. Except for Jazz. Two lines of inquisitors, as well as the mostly naked throne bearers, stood with arms crossed.

“I see you blasphemers made a mess along my blessed way of travel,” Owls spoke, while pulling back his hood to reveal a crescent brand on a pale white forehead. His eyes were black orbs, narrow together above a hooked nose. Deep lines ran from the corners of his down turned mouth. Although he looked old, he couldn’t be much over forty orbits. He came to be pontifex only recently, and Jazz knew of him before his rise. He supposedly stirred a lot of waves in the faith.

Not an easy job, being a crazy zealot.

“The leggers were an unexpected challenge to be dealt with-,” Owls waved his thin hand, cutting me off.

“I did not ask for an explanation from you, heathen child!” He said, his voice deep and gravelly.

Curling my fingers into tight balls, I stepped aside, allowing Jazz to come forward to continue the dealings. There was a slight taste of copper as I realized I had clamped my teeth on the inside of my cheek. That will hurt for a while. Pull it together, I thought.

“You shall burn. We cannot take the curse of old from you.” Pontifex Grail’s voice was piercing.

I feel Shameful looks from everyone.

“Why won’t you help us?” I ask

“But Zelsta doesn’t have a curse?” no one answers me.

“It’s going to be ok Ex.” My sister said.

A hand dropped on my shoulder, pulling me back to the now. Jazz gave a nod and continued.

“Well, the kids not wrong pontifex. It is odd to see a large spradin this far into the-,” he trailed off, his form going rigid. He peered past Owls, his gaze fixed on crates that were a few meters behind the throne. Voom! A bright bar of light burst forth, striking him in the center of his chest, throwing him backwards and toppling to the ground with a shower of sparks.

“Jazz! HAG, combat enhance, double excel!”

I was in motion long before the wave of cold took hold of my muscles. Things blurred as I snagged my downed comrade by the arm and drug him back towards to the nearest steel pillar opposite from the light beam’s origin. I spun to assess the situation after tucking us both from view.

Owls hunkered behind his throne, using it as a shield. Two of the inquisitors furthest from him lay flat, their robes scorched. The throne bearers crouched; their heads turned, eyes still covered. Oblivious to the cause of commotion, they trembled violently, but stayed put.

Damned fools! They are going to get killed. I squinted as a blast of energy hit the steel inches from my face. Jazz was now bobbing in and out from behind the pillar.

“Are you alright?”

“Hell no, I ain’t alright! I got shot!” He pointed to the blackened area on the chest piece of his reflector gear. “Well, I’m glad we-,” another shower of sparks cut me off. I peeked around. Owl’s throne bearers had scooped up his platform and now made their way out of the clearing, a ring of inquisitors covering them. Spears outstretched.

Yes, because a spear is going to stop someone with a light rifle. I screamed in my head.

Looking towards the crates, I glimpsed our assailant. They wore a mask. The same as the heathen that attacked me, though this one was clean, with a thick blue line painted down the center. They fired at the escaping party, missing by a large margin, then crouched.

Repositioning, the attacker sent a flurry of light bolts at Jazz and me. From this new angle, barely visible, was the faintest of blue under a yellow jacket. Reflector gear, whoever they are their ready for a fight. I pulled my head in and loaded my pistol as sparks sprayed by.

“Pincher,” Jazz said, standing and bolting away to another pillar.

I followed suit without a second thought, running in the opposite direction, setting up for a double-sided approach we often used. The attacker seemed to have lost all interest in the escaping Owls and was now swinging the rifle, firing at Jazz, me, and then back. I wasn’t sure what Jazz planned to do. He had no weapon.

He could have his blaster, but I didn’t see it on him.

The attacker’s reflector gear limited a light infusion weapon anyway, which left my pistol as our best choice. But I can’t-. A wave of heat caused me to duck as a searing beam of light blew past, just missing.

Shit, I need to pay attention. I thought, slamming my back against the pillar I put between me and the attacker.

Smoldering ashes. There’s an unbearable pain in my chest. Alone, so alone.

I don’t have time for this. I bit hard on my lip to anchor my mind. Shoving the memory away with all I had.

Peeking around my cover, I could see Jazz in a similar position. He ducked as a spray of sparks filled the air. A flurry of beams hit the pillar he hid behind, leaving streaks of glowing red. The closer we got to the sniper, the more affect his weapon had.

If we are flanking him, he can still pick only one target at a time. As usual, we made the right choice. He couldn’t focus his fire to burn through our cover.

Another flurry of light swirled around Jazz. The assailant must have determined he was the greater threat, which worked for me. With the combat enhancement and double excel flowing from the HAG, I could close the thirty meters in an instant. But if he shot me, I’d end up like the charred inquisitors. Not a fate I wanted.

Jazz advanced to the last pillar between him and the left of the shooter. I did the same on the right. Whatever we were doing, we would have to do it quick. At this range, the light rifle could pierce the steel with a couple of well-placed shots. He stared at me, making a finger pistol, mouthing “shoot,” jerking his chin towards the attacker.

I shook my head. I will not kill the man unless I’m forced to. As grim as things looked, I was sure we could subdue him without lethality. Jazz’s brow pulled down over his eyes. He made a series of frustrated hand gestures, then vanished behind another shower of sparks. The smell of the melting steel filled the air. I’ve got to do something, though.

I could make out the shooter better when he sprang up. His jacket and pants were the same yellow. I hadn’t seen a heathen with attire that clean before. What group is he a part of? I wondered.

The stack of crates the sniper hid behind wobbled as he ducked back out of view, catching my attention. They’re poorly stacked! I quickly planned; Jazz was still glaring at me.

Oh, get over it, old man! I thought, jerking my chin in the attacker’s direction, holding up outstretched fingers. “On my signal,” I mouthed. He cocked his head, then shrugged. He obviously got my meaning. One by one, I curled the fingers in.

Jazz jumped out first, distracting the sniper. Sliding from behind my cover, I took aim and fired. The crate at the base of the stack exploded backwards, the rest toppling after it, the attacker with no time to react tumbled, the upper most container landing hard on him with a crack, then it was over.

Jazz was the first to arrive at the piled mess. Taking a moment to normalize, I ended the enhancements coming from the HAG, arriving just as he yanked the mask off the failed assassin. To my surprise, a pile of brown ratted hair fell to -her- shoulders.

The woman spit at him, her features twisted to a feral snarl. “Oh, feisty girl sniper,” Jazz said, yanking her to her feet and binding her hands, then shoved her at me. I took hold, careful to avoid the teeth she snapped at my face.

“So, what’s your name?” I asked.

“Like I would tell you, moon loving filth,” the woman’s voice was deeper than I expected.

“I don’t love the moons any more than you, lady,” I pulled her binds tighter. “Do you have any more friends around? Your clan?”

Her clothes were sturdy material. Not salvaged. The yellow top riveted and sewn, made of thin Kevlar sections and beast hide dyed yellow. Her boots were heavy malleable composite. This uniform was new, except for the reflector gear she wore under. Which nobody could reproduce.

“She from Titan’s wrath,” Jazz said. He joined us, holding the light rifle the woman had been wielding. The long barrel with various ports and illuminated lines was in pristine condition. “They the only ones with gear this good. They have control of a full base on the edge of the Syria plane. The harvesters there work with other machines to make these uniforms,” he finished.

“Wretched heathen,” Owls said. His throne bearers glistened with sweat as they packed him into the clearing. The woman yanked, trying to free herself from my grip, staring at him with unreadable emotion on her face.

She’s not scared, or even angry now. It’s almost-

“Well, child of the damned, what do you have to say for yourself?” Owls snapped his fingers, and the bearers placed his throne on the ground just in front of the woman. She wrenched against my hold again, but with less conviction. As he approached, I watched a line of perspiration bead on his bald head, though his expression was a mask of calm.

He snatched the woman’s chin with a thin grip, causing her ratted hair to flail. “What did you hope to accomplish here, sinner?” He pulled her face closer to his, the hook of his nose inches from her cheek. “You should never dream of bringing down the might of the pontifex of Deimos and Phobos, our gods.” He whispered deeply.

“Do not challenge the word of the pontifex, whore child.” A white robed woman cursed at my sister while snatching at her blonde hair and forcing her to kneel.

A heavy, sick feeling formed in my stomach as another memory pressed its way forward. I realized the familiarity holding the woman’s bonds as Owls harassed her. Even a killer shouldn’t be subject to this cultist babel. I thought, releasing my grip, and taking a quick step back towards Jazz. Owls looked up at me from under his brow as the woman lulled with her release. She didn’t lash out as she had with me, which was a slight letdown. He held tight to her chin, then whispered in the captive’s ear. The color leaving her skin as her eyes widened.

With another snap of his fingers, Owls stepped away from the prisoner. As he did, one of the white-robed men stomped forward. His bladed pole pointed at the heathen.

“What’s going on” I asked, looking at Jazz. He shrugged, watching the inquisitor continue his approach. The woman obviously knew what was happening. She’s not going to fight. I felt my body go rigid. They are going to execute her right here?

“Pontifex, do you mean to-?”

“Silence, you blasphemer,” Owls shouted, pointing to me. “It is not your concern!”

“The hell it’s not! The crazy bitch tried to shoot me,” I said with a snarl. Leaping forward, I grabbed the woman by the shoulders and slammed her to the ground. “HAG, combat enhance,” I yelled, yanking the pistol from over my shoulder and aimed it at the approaching inquisitor. He froze.

“What are you doing, kid?” Jazz asked, pulling the rifle into a ready position

At least he’s got my back. I thought, then said “I’m taking her as my prisoner!” forcing as much calm into my voice as possible. “And the likes of you will not harm her.” The woman glared at me. There was a faint line of red at the corner of her mouth. I had slammed her down hard. But it beat the alternative.

The inquisitor stood, staring at the barrel of the long pistol. Owls observed from under hooded eyes. His lips pressed tight together, ironing out some lines in his skin. He sucked in a breath.

“I shall refrain from bringing the wrath upon you, sinner! For you, and your ally, are within the sacred walls of Deimos’s garden. And he, the mighty deity, would not crush that which is his!”

What is he talking about? A brief look over my shoulder told me the commotion drew the settlement dwellers’ attention. They were walking towards the pad from various directions. I see, he’s putting on a show for his sheep. The heat building in my chest swirled against the frigidness of enhancement. Why does anybody buy this crap? An idea formed at that moment.

“Tell me now, sinner, what is it you wish to have from us, the faithful, to depart from within our walls,” Owls said. His entire demeanor had changed. The malic in his eyes hidden with half open lids and his arms held wide, swaying slowly.

This couldn’t be more perfect. I looked at Jazz, apologetically. Watching his jaw muscles working. His brow furrowed deep, but I made my decision. Fortunately, Owls committed to his role as pontifex, giving a way out of the mess I had gotten us into and then some. Ok, you want to play, I’ll play.

“We of the red lands will punish this yellow clad for her attack on you, your excellency. We have only ever desired to take part in the market that you and your faithful hold after the rains. We the unclean wish to reunite with the deities Deimos and Phobos.” As I finished my speech, I lowered my pistol and bowed, placing my right arm over my heart. I could hear Jazz breathing and clearing his throat, but I didn’t bother to look.

Owls stiffened. He eyed the growing congregation of Martians as they gathered. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared. I wasn’t sure what to expect. The charade served a purpose, aside from escape. There was rarely a time when an outcast had any bargaining ground with the pontifex, and I was pushing my luck. But it could pay off.

“The deity has spoken to me, do what you will with the heathen, but you,” Owls said, his smile widened, “He so desires to bring you back to his loving embrace, you the unclean.” He waved a flattened hand at me and Jazz. “you shall be welcomed to the great mark-,”

“HAG organics at ten percent. Combat enhance will remain active for 3 more cycles,” the feminine voice spoke from the device on my arm, cutting Owls off.

Dammit. Why now? I thought. Listening to the murmurs of the people behind me. My breaths becoming more panicked.

“Devil.”

“Cursed.”

“Dangerous.”

“But the pontifex said.”

I looked up slightly from my bowed position. Owls was giving me a measured look. His earlier smile had thinned. The inquisitor I had pointed my pistol at was gripping his spear so tight his knuckles matched his robe. This is going so wrong, so, so wrong.

“At the great market, Deimos will free you from the clutches of the demon who does so possess your arm. Now go, you of the red land and take with you the sinner at your feet,” Owls gave a subtle dismissive wave towards the west edge of the settlement, and the crowd became a dull roar.

An open invite in front of everyone. I don’t believe it!

Grabbing at the woman’s jacket collar, I drug her up to stand. Owls still held his dismissing pose. “Let’s go!” I said, giving the captive a shove. She toppled violently under the force. A combined gasp escaped the on lookers.

Shit! “HAG, end enhance,” I spoke, quietly.

I helped the woman back to her feet with deliberate gentleness. The long scrape on her cheek didn’t go unnoticed. Damn it, damn it. My throat felt tight as I guided her forward. Jazz wasted no time and was already storming out of the settlement ahead of us between two derelict structures. Simply great. I thought.

Owls addressed the gathered Martians before I had hit the border of Star Light Rise. A quick glance told me that every inhabitant had made their way to the scene to listen to the sermon. I quickened my steps and pushed the woman to march faster.

I need to get out of here.

Unsteady on my feet and nauseous, I scanned for Jazz as my prisoner and I entered the hilly expanse around the settlement. Where did he go? He can’t be that mad. I thought as we trudged up a gentle rise.

“You there, heathen, wait,” a monotone voice said from behind.

Spinning, I saw one of the half-naked throne bearers running towards me. What do they want now? I swallowed a surge of bile from my churning stomach and waited as he approached. His blind fold gone, revealing sunken eyes full of focus.

“Easy friend,” I warned. The throne bearer didn’t seem to notice. He continued his brisk pace until he was only a few meters in front of me and my captive. “What do you want?” I asked. The man’s face was blank as he held out a small bundle of red cloth. I looked him over before taking it. The woman wiggled and I tightened my grip on her arm. She was surprisingly strong.

“The pontifex has commanded that you wear this robe when you are to come to the market,” he glanced at the HAG nervously. “He does not want the other faithful to be possessed by the demon. This holy garment will prevent that.”

I sighed, clenching and releasing my jaw. I should definitely shoot the messenger.

The throne bearer turned and bolted back towards the border without another word. The woman swayed beside me. Her face pale, sickly. “Are you alright?” I asked. she looked taken aback.

“So, are you going to kill me here?” she asked

I shook my head, “If I wanted you dead, I would have let the inquisitor skewer you. I really don’t care what you do.” Snatching the thin knife I carried in my boot, I cut loose the zip band at the woman’s wrist.

“Drop your reflector armor and you can go,” I said, returning my blade. Then looking back to her, “I wouldn’t try at Owls again, you know as well as I do, they’ll just raise another pontifex. You’ll be killing for no reason. Now hurry,”

The woman’s brow furrowed. She seemed puzzled. “You will not kill me? I would kill you still, boy.”

“If you could. But you can’t. And it does me no good to end your life function, besides I’d ruin that armor you’re going to give me, now!” I said, pulling my pistol and trying to hide that she just might could end me. Using the enhancements so much had taken a toll on my body and fighting would be a stretch of my remaining strength.

The woman huffed and removed her yellow top with jerking motions. Then she went at the buckles of the reflector gear. After only a moment, she dropped it at my feet. I looked away, realizing her upper half was bare without the armor on.

Careful not to stare, I knelt and grabbed the jacket and tossed it to the woman, then scooped up the blue vest. Well, that happened. I thought, as she covered herself. “Get going,” I gave her a jerk of my chin. She didn’t waste any time, turning and vanished around the curve of the hillside.

I allowed my head to fall against the stony ground as I sat. There was less foliage here. The mearth was hard and only a thin blanket of millimeter stem grass tangled around protruding rocks. Not ideal for sitting to relax, but it would do.

The last couple of days weighed on me. This is my last job with Jazz. I can’t do it anymore. After living like this for years, the monotony was unbearable. I owed him everything. He had taken me in and taught me what I needed to know. But still. There must be more to Mars than this, there must be more people. Just more, everything. I thought as I looked at the blue-black sky. Stars were showing through the thin atmosphere.

The strain of memories through the day gave a feeling of immobility. As I often did, I pulled the ancient paper from my belt. The words were the first I had asked Jazz to teach me. Partial pages to a lost technical manual explaining basic usage of the HAG. I had long memorized them and most of the marks were worn away, but they brought me peace. Sometimes.

I could no longer make out the wisps of smoke on the west horizon when I looked that way. Whatever hit must have burned out in the last megacycle or so. I still want to know what was there. It burned for a few days. With my left index finger, I traced the letters engraved on the device that covered my arm, wrist to elbow. H.A.G. This damn thing. I thought. Then hopped up and headed home.