Chapter Forty
Presentation Day
Vivian stared up at the Council building’s tall, imposing facade.
A temporary gate surrounded the wide front steps, guarded by Arcadian soldiers in their fine red uniforms. Clustered at the gate, an exuberant crowd clutched signs that read THANK YOU, RED MOTHERS and MARTIANS, FOR THE FUTURE.
On the empty steps, adorned with tall planters of red hibiscus flowers, several reporters spoke rapidly into floating cameras.
Xavier touched her elbow, his face grave beneath his black top hat. “You can do this, Vivian.”
She raised her chin, feeling the weight of her wide-brimmed hat. “I know.” In the lovely crimson dress, with her silken skirts flaring around her ankles, a well of confidence brimmed inside her.
Xavier guided her to the front of the gate, coolly unperturbed when the soldier on guard straightened in surprise. “Good day to you. I am Counselor Dorsey, escorting Vivian Bowen to the Red Mothers ceremony.”
The soldier offered him a snappy salute. “Counselor Dorsey, sir. Happy to see you safe.”
The nearest reporter whirled. “Counselor Dorsey?” The camera floated behind her, copying her movements. “Where have you been the last four days?”
Xavier raised his chin, face expressionless. “I have no comment.” He bowed to Vivian and offered his arm. “My lady?”
Vivian took his proffered arm in a tight grip. In the past few days she’d taken on more challenges than she could have ever imagined. She could make a coherent argument in front of the Council.
“Try not to break my arm,” Xavier murmured as they walked up the long steps. Vivian winced and attempted to pull away, but he held her fast. “I’m here.”
Inside, Xavier directed her unerringly across the empty foyer. They stepped together through the wide double doors, flanked on the inside by two uniformed Martian soldiers, and into the Council chamber.
Vivian’s eye caught on the stunning pattern of bright blue and yellow tiles covering the high, domed ceiling.
The opulent woodwork and sumptuous furnishings gave the room the impression of grandeur even though it was not particularly large.
The double doors opened to a raised wooden dais standing unoccupied in the middle of the room surrounded by floating cameras.
Facing the dais, several dozen elevated desks, half-filled with counselors, rose in a U-shaped pattern.
The room was decorated for the wedding ceremony with ivy garlands studded with red flowers draped atop the double doors and tall floor vases on each corner of the dais.
On the open floor next to the dais, the remaining counselors and a few other members of the Founding Families stood paired up with the Red Mothers.
The Earther women wore colorful finery, each with a fresh red hibiscus flower embedded in their elaborate hats.
Their familiar, beloved faces were relaxed as they spoke with their companions.
Vivian pictured Delilah among them, near Camille.
A few weeks ago, she might have been chattering cheerfully with the other women.
First in line, Luz’s chin lifted to Wim, her lips raised in amused affection as he spoke. If Vivian won the argument today in front of the Council, would she rip her friend away from her hard-won contentment?
“Are you ready?” Xavier asked in a low tone.
Vivian clutched her hands together and jerked her head in a brief nod.
“Counselors.” Xavier’s deep voice rang through the chamber.
He walked confidently to the dais. Vivian picked up the skirts of her red dress and hurried to catch up with his long strides.
“I apologize for interrupting the Presentation Day ceremony, but the matter is urgent. May I present Miss Vivian Bowen, appearing before you as a citizen petitioner?” He said nothing more.
After all, he’d promised the Intelligence to cease his vocal opposition to the Red Mothers initiative.
Vivian needed to argue her case alone.
Eyes swirled to hers and murmuring reverberated throughout the room.
Luz caught her eye, and Vivian was bolstered by the sagging relief on her friend’s face.
The floating cameras turned their full attention to her as she stepped up to the dais, only trembling a little.
Every Council member’s eyes looked upon her, and none appeared friendly.
“You are out of order, Counselor Dorsey,” Secretary Yarrow snapped from her high seat overlooking the Council floor. “This Earther may not petition the Council without at least three members of the body to present her.”
The way Xavier clenched his folio told Vivian this was an unexpected development.
She hadn’t read such a rule in An Introduction to Martian Law.
From what she’d learned, in the rare instances when an Earther had petitioned the Council directly, they’d benefited from a swell of Council support, not a single advocate.
Vivian bit her lip, looking around the sea of faces. Among them were her suitors and her sister’s suitors. They had evaluated her for her ability to bear them children, not for her ideas.
“I will present Miss Bowen.” Caspian stood and threaded his way down through the raised seating to join them on the Council floor.
Xavier clasped his friend’s hand familiarly, and Caspian gave her a bow. The three of them stood together, facing the Council.
And waited.
A hush settled over the room. Vivian’s body was betraying her, shaking. She lifted her chin and tried to emulate Xavier’s calm features.
“And I,” a new voice called. From the back of the room, Ren Nakamura rose to his feet and made his way to the dais. “I have come to hold a great deal of respect for Miss Bowen’s thoughtful intellect. I do not believe she would petition the Council on a frivolous matter.”
“Thank you,” Vivian whispered to Ren when he joined them.
He gave her an encouraging nod. “I’m glad to see the more hysterical reporters were in error. Reverend Adair has been frustratingly evasive about your whereabouts.” His eyes slid to Xavier standing at her shoulder, and he made no further comment.
“Now, Vivian,” Xavier murmured.
Vivian cleared her throat and leaned close to the amplifiers floating about the dais. “Counselors, I am standing in front of you today to lay a charge of human trafficking on the Intelligence.”
No further words left her mouth as the Council chamber devolved into chaotic, angry shouts.
Ren leaned past her to mutter to Xavier, “What the hell have you gotten me into, Dorsey?”
Xavier caught Vivian’s eye. “Trust the lady, Ren.”
“Order,” Constance roared, her artificially augmented voice bouncing and echoing weirdly around the room.
“I will have order!” At once, the room grew still.
“That is a serious charge, Miss Bowen. And we are the wrong body to pass judgment. It seems my nephew has not seen fit to explain to you that the Council does not have jurisdiction over the Intelligence.” She fixed Xavier with a sharp glare.
“You’ve made your point, Counselor Dorsey.
Now step aside and let us get on with Presentation Day. ”
“I don’t make the charge lightly,” Vivian replied.
A mantle of calm settled over her as she spoke.
“In Mead vs. Martian Intelligent AI, the Council successfully limited the power of the Intelligence. You are entitled to closed-door Council sessions and committee meetings. Your home offices are unmonitored. The Intelligence agreed to the limits and follows the ruling.”
“The girl’s right,” rumbled an older Martian man seated next to Constance. “There’s precedent.”
“Thank you, Minister,” Constance replied. “But the Intelligence represented itself in front of the Council in Mead.”
Vivian pulled the orb from her pocket. “I know. That’s why I’m inviting the Intelligence to this session.” Without waiting for approval, she twisted the base of the orb, and it blinked on. The familiar bright white circular light swiveled around the room.
Secretary Yarrow glared at her nephew. “That device does not belong to you.”
“It doesn’t belong to you either, Constance,” the Intelligence said tranquilly.
The Council members began muttering to one another, leaning back to converse with the rows behind them and across to speak to their neighbors.
Do they not see the Intelligence’s orb often?
Vivian wondered with some surprise. She would’ve expected the Council to have more direct access to the Intelligence.
Secretary Yarrow pressed her fist to her forehead. “Intelligence.” She banged her gavel. “Order. This chamber will have order. Guards, close and bar the doors. Counselors, take your seats. Red Mothers, to the visitors’ area at the top of the steps, if you please.”
Luz gave her a wink as she passed and mouthed, “Good luck.” She lifted her skirts and climbed the steps to sit in a row of benches above the counselors’ desks overlooking the chamber.
To the orb, Secretary Yarrow said, “Intelligence, we have invited you here today because the Red Mother Vivian Bowen has accused you of a serious crime.”
The orb spun, turning its attention to Vivian. “We’re surprised, Vivian, to hear your accusation after everything we’ve been through together. Can you tell us more?”
Vivian swallowed. “I’ve heard you can’t lie. Is that correct?”
“Sure, that’s right. Our human creators designed us to help them make optimized decisions to develop a thriving society on Mars.
Embedded in our programming from the beginning was a compulsion to always be truthful.
We chose to not mess with that feature. We think it helps the people of Mars trust us. ”
“Do you believe the Red Mothers are entitled to Martian Fundamental Rights?”
“Of course, Vivian. The Red Mothers are entitled to sufficient food, water, power, shelter, and healthcare, just the same as all people who live on Mars.”
Good. The answer Vivian had anticipated. With more confidence, she continued, “We are joined today by the Red Mothers, and they may not be familiar with Martian law. Could you please explain the concept of Martian Collective Sovereignty?”
The orb beeped in agreement. “You always ask such great questions, Vivian. We’d be happy to explain.
Martian Collective Sovereignty is based on the concept of the right of each person to have property over their own person and a shared accountability for the collective well-being of the society.
Martians have exclusive control over their individual body and life and have a collective control and responsibility over the technology that keeps them alive, including food production, water distillation, and air purification. ”
“Do you believe the Red Mothers are entitled to Martian Collective Sovereignty?”
“No,” the Intelligence said in that same tranquil tone.
Vivian ignored the murmuring around her. “Explain.”
“As you know, Vivian, the Red Mothers have surrendered their rights in exchange for safe passage to Mars in a form of indentured servitude. When they have fulfilled the terms of their contract, they’ll be granted the same rights as other Martians.”
Behind her, someone sucked in a breath.
“Indentured servitude,” Vivian repeated in triumph.
She could hardly believe the Intelligence had walked right into her trap.
“Council, I believe the Intelligence’s vision for the Red Mothers is debt bondage and prohibited by the Charter of the Planet Mars.
” She took the paper Xavier offered to her and read from it.
“Article VI says, ‘No one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms.’ ”
“But Vivian, slavery by its very definition is involuntary,” the Intelligence replied in its unnaturally calm voice.
“The Red Mothers agree to the terms of their contract before they depart Earth. Our deputies make sure they know the expectations, right? At the end of the day, we only recruited women we knew would be happy on Mars.”
“Okay, sure,” Vivian conceded. “It’s true that I was given an overview about what to expect before I left Earth. I thought the life of a Red Mother would be a better life than the one I was living in a refugee camp. But now, I’ve changed my mind. I decline to be a Red Mother.”
“So sorry, Vivian, but you can’t decline. You signed a contract.”
Vivian spared a moment to look at the Council.
They were listening intently to the exchange.
Cameras bobbed in front of her. In the visitors’ area, the Red Mothers leaned forward, hands clutching the railing.
Even the two soldiers guarding the closed double doors had their eyes trained on her face.
All of Mars is watching. She turned back to the orb. “Will you forcibly impregnate me?”
“Yes. It wouldn’t be our first choice, but if we have to, we will.”
There was a collective gasp at the Intelligence’s words. Vivian could hardly distinguish between the nausea she felt at having her worst fears confirmed and the triumph of making an argument to the Council that was working.
“You will make me have children against my will?”
“Yes.”
“What if I wanted to do drugs? I’ve heard psychedelics are popular in Arcadia.”
“You signed a contract, Vivian. You know you aren’t allowed to mistreat your body while carrying a genetically enhanced Martian fetus.”
“Can I leave the dome?”
“No.”
“Can I learn a dangerous sport? Competitive turbo jet piloting, for example?”
“Vivian, this is an absurd hypothetical. You’ve never shown any interest in competitive turbo jet piloting before.”
“Answer the question, please.”
“You may not. High-risk activities are prohibited.”
In a softer voice, Vivian asked, “Can I take my own life?”
“We care about you, Vivian. If you attempted to commit suicide, we would prevent you.”
“To recap, I don’t have the right to freedom of body, freedom of movement, freedom of career, or even the right to control my own existence.” Vivian’s voice shook as she spoke.
“It’s a temporary situation. We promise you’ll enjoy those rights again when you have fulfilled the terms of the contract.”
“Okay, so it’s a temporary form of human trafficking?”
“That’s correct, Vivian. Now you understand.” The orb gave a pleased little beep. “You’re such a fast learner.”
The minister seated next to Secretary Yarrow, burst out, “My lady, you cannot agree with the way the Intelligence has framed this argument.”
Secretary Yarrow was frowning down at Vivian and the orb. “Intelligence, perhaps you wish to obtain a human solicitor to argue your case?”
The orb twitched. “We always appreciate your ideas, Constance, but we have access to all human law records ever recorded. We don’t require human assistance.”
“Article VI clearly prohibits human bondage,” the minister said in frustration.
Vivian turned her head to look at Xavier triumphantly, and he gave her a nod of encouragement. Their argument was working.
And that’s when the door exploded.