Known World Series

Crimson Planet Ch.1

This is not a serious story. Not in the sense of hard science facts and what we know. This is more fantastic. Instead of reaching into the future to what could be, I have reached into the past, into the times before people knew Mars was a dry, dead world with no air. Instead, it held giant, four-armed monsters and savages, where Venus was a lush jungle world under a constant barrage of rain, and where the outer planets were so massive their satellites held life foreign to humans in more than one sense. And beyond that, deep in space, the bug-eyed aliens and strange creatures existed that shocked, terrified, and entertained us.

This is not a story about science fact. This is fantastic science fiction. The old guard kind, the raypunk kind. It's one I think that should be dusted off and played with from time to time; the pulp era of science fiction, when Mars had canals, Venus held dinosaurs, and man could travel to other places in rockets or spheres coated in anti-gravity paint, or even mysterious beam of energy. Where savages could hold axe and sword, fighting alongside a ray gun-toting gunfighter or Space Ranger.

Won't you come along for the ride?

Chapter 1

The windswept, rust-tinged plains of Tharsis fell behind Tosh, formally of the House du'Vaul, as his rented saurial mount plodded along the Ancient's Road. Dark green of the domeheaded mount clashed with the red-orange sand of Mars of the wastes swept outward from the dark Ancient's Road on either side were dry, dreary, and deserted. The road they followed was the Ancient's Road, set down and sealed so that no sand, nor wind, nor foot, or wagon wheel could damage the dark, midnight-blue stone path, winding its way from Gods' Home to the Tharsis Crossroads, Lotus, Tharsis Prime, and eventually, End Road. This road was a merchant's dream with its well-stocked way stations positioned every fifty leagues, and with no need to have them maintained, no road tax or travel tax. Some ancient magi-tech that none in the Mercantile League dared exploit for fear of breaking the wonderful way-station and losing a place to stay stocked the stations themselves. Yet Tosh feared one thing the road brought.

Bandits.

The ancient foe had harried merchants like Tosh since the invention of commerce, whether on Earth using the ancient horse and sword, bow, or firearms, or after the secrets of rocketry and space flight were gained by humans. Space pirates and banditry on other planets had become the way of life for those not rich enough to afford the Gate, or the price for using the Guild to travel. Bandits were a constant harassment.

Looking back over his small merchant caravan, the tri-horn behind him bellowed. It made Tosh wary. What is he bellowing about? Tosh turned in his saddle to look at the tri-horn pulling the bulk of his cargo. His domehead mount held his belongings and a few odds and ends he might have needed for barter if Tosh came across a fellow merchant... or savages of the Southern Martian tribes. The packs on the tri-horn that were tethered to his mount held provisions, as well as the bulk of Tosh's trade goods for the southern villages and cities. It was a cornucopia of farming tools, machine parts, a handful of the latest entertainment cubes, and old-fashioned wooden toys. "One never knew what one needed. Customers never do," his uncle and one-time head of House Du'Vaul echoed in Tosh's mind. The rest of the bulk of the tri-horn cargo was the most precious commodity in the desert climes of Mars.

Water.

It held water in small jugs and big clay urns that ringed the mammoth beast, creating bulges of ceramics. They also strapped a large tanker to the tri-horn, trailing behind the mule-stubborn creature. The tanker also held the four guards that Tosh had paid for with the last of his coin. He had to make money on this trip, or he would be destitute, and his family would disown him. Well, more like complete the disowning. Since his uncle's death, when his father took over, Tosh wasn't welcome. This journey was Tosh's one and only chance to prove he could be a merchant like the rest of the men of the family. And my choices in other personal matters haven't helped.