The Martian Lie

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Meet Cute – Callie & Richard

Rebellion be damned, his farm needed a little attention, and he needed some basic provisions. His farm provided him with food - basic meat and vegetables - but he relied on modern convenience for clothing, flour, beans, medicine, and of course, seeds. He had not been able to prepare for spring planting season since he had been focused on the rebellion and had been at the family compound down south. His supplies had been depleted when he left, and he needed to get things in order to begin planting this month. His father thought it was stupid - he could easily survive without the farm - but he felt whole when he lived off the land and he didn't plan on abandoning the lifestyle anytime soon. So, that day in late April, he took the Northwest Light-Rail from the country to Kansas City. He would have to go back soon - things would start happening very quickly after his father did his counter-broadcast to Roark. He also had to lead the secret operation to steal the malaria payload in another month. But, for now, he could pretend life was tranquil.

As the Light-Rail car zipped over the city, he looked down and contemplated it. The area looked the same as it had for centuries, aside from some technological advances. The Light-Rails shuttling cars in and out, large screens along the major roadways broadcasting the Martian News, and the occasional Hovercar headed to Supply Line 16 filled with manufactured goods – but from a distance, it had the same appearance a city had had for millennia. It bustled with activity. Personal vehicles came in and out on roadways under the Light-Rail, factories showed the telltale signs of manufacturing, and storefronts were lit up to advertise the days' sales. It seemed to him that although time marched on and people thought they changed the world, the basic structure would always remain.

His musings were interrupted when they reached the stop in the heart of the city. There was a shopping market there where he could pick up the basics he needed. His summer shirts were threadbare, and he needed some food to get him through to the next harvest. It was possible he wouldn't be around for the harvest if his father had his way, but he didn't see any reason not to prepare to live as he always had. A change in the larger powers-that-be wouldn't affect the day to day lives of the average person, and he intended to be average. As soon as this was done. He would hire someone to plant and be home to harvest.

He waited for the rest of the passengers, six in all, to exit the car before he tried. He preferred to watch everyone exit first, rather than be jostled down the aisle and to the door with them in a herd. Finally, he got up, nodded to the supervisor on the car, and made his way down the steps and to the platform. Several cars had stopped to let off passengers, so there was a large crowd of people there to meet those that had departed with him. He felt a brief tug of loneliness and regret for his solitary existence when he saw people hugging and waving excitedly, but he shrugged it off. He joined those turning right through an entrance labeled Westport Market and made his way to Goodman's Clothing first, seeing as how clothes couldn't spoil. He found the naming of the stores and neighborhoods ridiculous – it was all owned by the Martians, but they tried to give it a small-town feel.

To the dismay of the store-clerk, who seemed to be bored and intent on helping him with his purchases, he refused to try on any of the shirts he bought. He simply picked five that looked durable, paid, and came back out. He peered out into the neighborhood and tried to remember if the seed store was left or right. Scanning and squinting, he saw a commotion a ways down the road to the East. There were several people trying to discreetly point at another group of people who were coming out of the Wornall House – an old American Civil War museum in this area.

Richard was interested. By definition, there was nothing interesting about people touring an old Museum. Unless. Some intuition clicked in his head. The same intuition he'd inherited from Jordan but liked to dismiss in his quest to be different than his father. The intuition when there is an opportunity, and the intuition to take it.