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- [00:00]
Sports Commentator
And we're live from the living room as Doug eyes up the match. Say spread. He's reaching for the buffalo wing. Perfect. Hang on. What's this? Oh, he's gone for a can of Pepsi too. Incredible. What a finish. Sensational combination. Look at the delight on his face. There's no doubt about it. It just tastes better. Match days deserve Pepsi. Food deserves Pepsi. Grab a pack of Pepsi. Zero sugar for today's match. It's poetry in motion.
- [00:31]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [00:35]
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- [00:37]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [00:40]
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- [01:25]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Hi friends. I'm willing to and it's story time. When I was 8 or 9 years old, I bought a cassette at a truck stop of the Mercury Theater on the air broadcast of the War of the Worlds, and I played that tape until it wore out. Every time I pressed play, I let my imagination take me back to 1938. I was sitting in a room lit only by the glow of an ancient radio, breathlessly waiting for the next update from Grover's Mill. H.G. wells the war of the Worlds inspired a generation of science fiction writers to explore the alien invasion story and its themes of colonization, indiscriminate violence, the relentless attacks from an enemy we don't understand and can't reason with, only what if
- [02:19]
Council Member / General Kurang
we could reason with them we just didn't try?
- [02:23]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
What if communication that could lead to understanding, that would lead to peace among worlds, was right there, scrupulously avoided by men who needed war to give their empty lives meaning.
- [02:37]
Council Member / General Kurang
What would that look like?
- [02:39]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Attempting real and honest communication with creatures from another world who we believe to be hostile? And what if the Martians have Magic? Let's find out. If the Martians have Magic by P. Djeli Clark Originally published in uncanny magazine, issue 42 the First Martian War was won not by man, but by but microbes. The second, we fought with Martian weapons that nearly broke the world. The third invasion we stopped by our own hands, using magic. Wei Yin Sun, Imperial historian in the court of the Empress Dowager Restoration Period. Marrakech's streets were a dizzying affair at any time, but at midday they were unbearable, a churning morass that moved to their own rhyme and reason. And though Minette called the city a second home, navigating its roads was a feat of skill, luck, and perhaps she was willing to admit sheer stupidity. She dodged a rider on a high wheeled electric velocipede and rounded about a diesel trolley, only to be brought up short by a young woman who stood in the middle of the busy thoroughfare, beseeching a stubborn goat to follow. Yet no matter how hard she pulled the taut leash, it would not move. The girl yelled, then begged, but the goat only bleated its obstinacy, having decided to start its revolution here and now. Minette slowed to watch, momentarily lost in the goat's stubborn cries, and was nearly run over by a rickshaw. A tall dromedary pulling the two wheeled hooded vehicle of gilded iron pulled up short, jostling its two occupants. Both gasped, their sculpted eyebrows rising above long, overlapping rose colored veils. But it was the camel that turned an irritated glare Minette's way. Mind where you're going. It brayed, making a gesture with its split upper lip she knew, for a curse. Minette frowned at the discourteous display and with a suck of her teeth shot back a curse in Creole. The camel's eyes widened at the unfamiliar words, and it might have said something in return, but she had already moved on. Of all the creatures gifted sentience with the return of magic, the good God Bonjour alone knew why those rude beasts were chosen. But that was the way of magic, unpredictable in its movements, its choices, and ceaseless permutations. That's what all of this was about, why she'd canceled morning classes and now rushed to a meeting to which she wasn't invited. Because someone had to speak for the unknowable in magic, the nonlinear, the indefinable. Someone had to save her Martians. She stopped, out of breath, just across from the flying citadel. The stone fortification sat atop a jagged rock that floated like an unmoored mountain peak high in Marrakesh's skyline. Its ivory walls and gold domes looked stolen out of time, or perhaps beyond it, spreading a shadow on the streets below, where hawkers sold magic rope and enchanted rugs to gullible tourists along with more useful thaumaturgical devices. A fleet of lavish vehicles were parked nearby, wheeled automobiles driven by golden metal men, air balloons of giant pufferfish that pulled at their anchors, and gilded carriages
- [06:35]
Council Member / General Kurang
drawn by fantastic beasts.
- [06:38]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
One of them, a spotted ocelot large as a horse, lapped a blue tongue against its fur and held up a snow white wing like a canopy beneath Marrakesh's glaring sun, the vehicles bore insignia from over a dozen nations, evidence that the Council was indeed meeting. Minette swore. Looking around, she caught sight of a few taxis ferrying tourists up to the Citadel by way of flying carpets. Absurd. Fortunately, she had other methods. Closing her eyes, she composed a quick prayer. The Loa could be persuaded to answer the call of Amambo in need, as drawn up in the new understandings. They bristled at the mention of the word contract that now administered interactions with their priests, all part of bringing them more devotees in this modern world where spirits and gods walked unbidden, ever competing for the attention of mortals. Of course, the Loi acted in their peculiar time and followed their own interests, new understandings or no. After two attempts, she was set to call again when the image of a man in a broad brimmed hat flashed across her thoughts. He held a mahogany smoking pipe precariously between pursed lips, and his leisurely gait resembled a dance. Legba, the Keeper of Rhodes. Opening the door, a flaming ram followed Bade's sign, who she truly wanted. His presence stirred against her with the weight of a feather and the pressure of a mountain. All at once she hashed out a quick agreement, some offerings to perform, a drapo to commission, and was fast swept up in gusts of air. An accompanying rumble of thunder startled those below Bday's twin SoBo. The two were inseparable, and you didn't get one without the other. Bidet kept to the pact, sending Minette soaring up to the flying citadel. Looking down, she saw the winged ocelot had paused its cleaning and now stared up at her with four red sapphire eyes. She shook her head. The powerful in their toys on a draft of wind accompanied by peels of thunder like drums. She rose higher still above rounded minarets to reach the Citadel's upper levels. Her feet struck stone and she stumbled once before breaking into a run along a lengthy parapet. Holding the ends of her white dress up so as not to trip, she moved into a passageway, easily slipping through a set of wards meant to deter interlopers. Aziza's work, and predictable as always. Well, wasn't he in for a surprise? She stopped at reaching a red door inscribed with repeating calligraphy, taking a breath to collect herself. It did no good to look hurried. She tightened the white cloth that wrapped her hair, adjusted her spectacles, and, remembering to release the grip on her dress, stepped inside. The Council on Magical Equilibrium was a rare gathering and, as it was featured, an impressive who's who and what's what from across the world. Some faces Manette recognized, some she couldn't see, and others she didn't know at all. Each, however, turned from where they were seated about a curving table to stare at her entrance. Aziz, who sat at its center, broke off his words entirely. Minette. His call came too familiar for colleagues. He must have realized as much because he coughed into a waxed mustache before starting again. Please excuse the interruption. May I introduce Professor Francis. She teaches here at the Academy and comes to us from Port au Prince. Port au Prince, a small, slender woman in a crimson gown repeated in a throaty slur. A veil of swirling gray mist obscured her face, all but her eyes, black on black pools deep as a fathomless sea.
- [10:57]
Council Member / General Kurang
Aiz, you did not tell us the Academy held a mambo in residence. I see no distinct law hovering about you, one of the unbound.
- [11:08]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Then she craned her neck and inhaled deeply.
- [11:14]
Council Member / General Kurang
Oh, but the magic in you is no less for that.
- [11:20]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Those black eyes narrowed hungrily, and Minette fought the urge to step back. It was unwise to show weakness to their kind. They remembered that Professor Francis is one of our most valued researchers, aziz interjected, seeming to sense the danger. She has done wonders with Martian human interactions. She was the one who first made the discovery. Minette raised an eyebrow.
- [11:50]
Council Member / General Kurang
Were they so afraid to just come out and say it?
- [11:55]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Another woman at the table gave a derisive snort. She looked older than Minette by a decade or more, but the body beneath her burgundy military uniform was solid and the dark hands folded before her, thick and scarred. If the number of metals decorating her breast was anything to go by, she knew how to use those hands, too. She pinned Minette with the one eye not covered by a black patch, an owl examining a mouse, and flared her generous nostrils. And Aziz went on, though the professor is one of our finest faculty, I don't recall her being summoned to this meeting. That last part was said with an unspoken and I think you should leave now. But Manette hadn't come this far to be scolded. She tried to ignore the gazes of the two women and stepped forward. Apologies, Director Aziz. And to this council, she began, reciting what she'd hastily rehearsed on the run here. I only learned you were meeting this morning and thought my expertise might be valuable. I'm certain my absence was an oversight. She met Aziza's gaze squarely at that. It was petty of him not to invite her, but rather than taking up the challenge, his eyes creased with concern that only annoyed her further.
- [13:24]
Council Member / General Kurang
Well, she certainly is direct, the misfaced woman slurred. I for one would like to hear what the mambo has to share. I say she stays. Any objections?
- [13:40]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
None around the table gave a reply, though the One Eyed woman shrugged indifferently. Aziz put on a resigned look, beckoning Minette to sit.
- [13:51]
Council Member / General Kurang
Ah, mambo, whose scent of magic is sweet enough to taste, the mist faced woman purred. You may sit near me.
- [14:05]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
She patted an empty chair with a long fingered hand. Pale as alabaster, those depthless eyes looked even hungrier. Manette politely declined the offer three times. Any less was just inviting trouble and took a chair several seats down, feeling peculiarly conscious of her smallness between a broad giant in a blue turban and a fiery gin encased inside a towering body of translucent glass. We were discussing, aziz began anew, what we are to do with the three entities following the recent revelations. Minette's heart drummed. There it was. There's only one. She spoke up. Heads and other things, much like heads swiveled back to regard her. You're calling them three, but there's actually only the one. Aziz blinked, but then nodded at the correction. Yes, of course. Professor Francis is referring to how the Martians see themselves. Three are required to form their collective consciousness, and then they become one. The professor is one of the few non Martians to successfully join a triumvirate. Join? It was the One Eyed Woman. She now glared incredulous. So you allow the beasties into your head? Minette paused, trying to place that English accent. They aren't beasts, she replied. They're sentient beings like us. The one Eyed woman's laugh was brusque. So you say, Professor. But I've grappled with them face to face. Not all time, like in your lab. She tapped a finger at her missing eye. And they're damned beasts if I ever seen one. Aziz coughed again. Professor Francis, this is General Kurang. She's here representing the nation's League Defense Forces. Minette's eyes widened. The General Kurang who had broken the Martians at Kathmandu. So that accent was Australian, then. No wonder the woman was so hardline. In my time in the Triumvirate, she tried diplomatically, I've found them to be capable of many emotions. They have been kind, even gentle. General Kurang sputtered. Kind? Gentle? Is that why they said about inviting us three times? Not every Martian was a soldier, Minette reminded, speaking as much to the others gathered. The one I joined with were worker drones they never even saw fighting that's why it was so easy for the central intellect to abandon them in retreat. And what did they work on? The general asked, unmoved. Was it their stalking dreadnoughts, their infernal weapons that almost blew us to hell? Come visit the archipelago sometime, professor, and I'll show you Martian gentleness. Manette bit her lip to keep from replying.
- [17:14]
Council Member / General Kurang
That was unfair.
- [17:16]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The archipelago is all that was left of what used to be Australia. The waters of the South Sea were mostly off limits now, teeming with monsters that wandered in through torn rifts between worlds. That it was humans playing with Martian weapons who had brought on the disaster seemed to matter little to the General. Perhaps we should get back to the heart of the matter, aziz suggested, breaking the tense silence. We must decide what is to be done with the entities them? In light of Professor Francis's discovery, Minette felt a flurry of annoyance. Were they going to dance around this all morning? By discovery you mean that Martians can perform magic? She blurted out. Her words sent murmurs through the council. Aziz gave her an exasperated look. The general cursed, and the mist faced woman's eyes creased with a hidden smile. Minette took the moment to press on. What we should do with them is clear. They are a conscious soul, protected within the Nations League Charter on magical practitioners, drawn up over a decade ago in 1919. They should be encouraged to develop those talents. Outrageous. General Kerrang roared, her face a thunderhead. The charter wasn't made to protect bloody
- [18:36]
Council Member / General Kurang
Martians, but it does not exclude them,
- [18:41]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
the misfaced woman interjected.
- [18:43]
Council Member / General Kurang
The charter was made quite broad in its application, as evidenced by the makeup of this very council.
- [18:54]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Precisely, minette said, seizing on the opportunity. We already accept a diverse world of spirits, gods, and no end of magical beings. The previous head of this council was a Minotaur, and she served with distinction. How is this any different? A point of clarification. A squat shaman at the far end of the table called, raising a hand that rattled with ivory bracelets. The charter the professor references was created to protect unique magical abilities in the nascentcy. Have these Martians exhibited some magical talent indigenous to their kind? Not yet, minette admitted. But I believe it's only a matter of time. She followed quickly. The triumvirate I share. They claim Mars once had magic, but it's been lost, much as humanity lost it once, too concerned with our factories and industry. Through the rituals to the Lua, they've shown that they can understand and practice magic, something we once thought impossible. They're on the verge of self discovery. We should allow them that right. Martians don't have any rights as citizens, general Kuran countered. They're not even from this world. Just because the Academy lets you keep a few as pets doesn't change the fact that these creatures are prisoners of war. Minette clenched her fists to keep calm. We aren't at war, General. The older woman leaned forward, imposing in her size. Oh, did we sign some peace treaty that I'm unaware of? Is there a Martian consulate? A Martian ambassador? Minette pressed on, counting in her head to keep calm and trying to forget she was arguing with a living legend. The Martians invaded three times, precisely three
- [20:50]
Council Member / General Kurang
years apart, on the exact same day.
- [20:53]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The last war was in 1903. It's been more than 30 years, and we've seen no sign of another invasion. The general smacked the table heavily, and Manette was proud that she didn't jump. Damn right. Because we beat the hell out of them last time, and we did it with magic. That's our greatest defence. The one thing they're calculating overground mines can't understand. And you just go ahead and give it to them. She shook her head, that single eye glowering. I expected more from a Haitian. Minette felt her face flush at the insult. The Hungam Papa Kristoff had been the first to use magic in the Third War, halting the Martian dreadnoughts and sending their armies into disarray. The route at Capai Sion set an example for the world. She was fiercely proud of that fact
- [21:50]
Council Member / General Kurang
and didn't need reminding.
- [21:52]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Not like this. I didn't give them magic, she said tersely. They were drawn to the Lua and the Loi.
- [22:02]
Council Member / General Kurang
To them.
- [22:03]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
None of us have the right to stop this development. She turned her appeal to the wider council, moderating her tone. I'm not just being an idle academic here. I'm not insensitive to all of your concerns. I understand the suffering the Martians caused this world. But I believe there's a practical side to all of this. The general folded her arms and struck the posture of someone politely suffering a fool. But Manette continued, the rediscovery of Martian magic could be a new step for all of us. A new magic system could, built on Martian ingenuity. Think of all the possibilities. The Martians here on Earth could become valued citizens, sharing what they know. If Mars invades again, as the general believes, we would have a valuable fifth column ready to come to our defense. What if this curtails their appetite for conquest? What if it helps them find themselves again the way we have. We should seize this opportunity to integrate them into society, not shun it. Or we should be frightened, general Ku Rang grumbled. She spared a glance from Annette before turning to the council. The professor's determined, I'll give her that. But let's say she's right and there's some old Martian magic waiting to be tapped. What happens when they rediscover it? Can we trust they won't give it up to protect their own kind? The last three invasions decimated the old powers of this world. Europe's a blasted out hellhole that might never recover. We're barely managing that refugee crisis as it is. I for one have seen enough of Martian ingenuity. When the fourth invasion comes, and it will come, do we want to look up and see new Martian dreadnoughts powered by magic marching across Cairo, New Echo, or Delhi? She let her one eye latch onto every gaze before continuing. I'm a soldier, not a diplomat. Thinking about peace isn't my job, and I'll admit I'm no good at it. But I know how to keep us safe. First rule of military defense Deny your enemy any chance of mounting a challenge, the professors admitted. These Martians haven't found their lost magic yet. She says we should give them time. Well, I say we use that time to stop this threat in its tracks. Now, before it goes any further. Because allowing these Martians to have magic is a risk we can't afford.
- [24:55]
Council Member / General Kurang
Minette felt the weight of those words settling down with the force of a hammer.
- [25:04]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
So, it seemed, did the rest of the Council fear, it turned out, was a potent weapon of its own. General Ku Rang was as skilled in persuasion as she was on the battlefield. When the motion was made to declare the prospect of Martian magic a threat to global security and magical equilibrium, not one voice rose in dissent.
- [25:42]
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- [26:11]
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- [26:20]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
You could say that again.
- [26:21]
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- [26:30]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [26:34]
Sports Commentator
Wow.
- [26:34]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
I am clearing the rest of the day.
- [26:36]
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- [26:44]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [26:46]
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- [27:36]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [27:37]
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- [27:48]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The beat of drums guided Minette's movements about the room. Wa that had been invited into the Hun for danced along. Others, like Papaloko, only sat watching. The first Hungan had been convinced by his wife to accept the rada rights
- [28:06]
Council Member / General Kurang
of this new world.
- [28:08]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Now he kept strict governance to see if they were properly followed. He was especially taken with the Martians, with their bulbous heads. It was easy to at first mistake them for giant octopuses, but where an octopus was reduced to flimsy sacks of flesh out of water, Martian bodies were quite sturdy. Their skin was pale, verging on a dull violet that extended the length of 16 thick tentacles, the latter of which were remarkably malleable at the moment. They intertwined like roots to form the semblance of a man. Beneath each head, with arms, legs, and even a torso, two of the triumvirate moved gracefully to the saw, swaying in hypnotic undulations. A third used myriad tentacles to beat a steady rhythm on a battery of conical drums, matching the rattling shells of Minet Sahn. On the ground, Papa Damballa's veve lay etched in white.
- [29:14]
Council Member / General Kurang
He sat as a white serpent, coiled about his shrine and the feast prepared
- [29:21]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
for him an egg on a mound
- [29:24]
Council Member / General Kurang
of flour boarded by white candles, white flowers, and white rice.
- [29:32]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
His red eyes watched the writhing limbs
- [29:36]
Council Member / General Kurang
of the Martians and swayed with them. A current filled the room, and it felt as if they were no longer
- [29:43]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
within this plane, but some other realm
- [29:46]
Council Member / General Kurang
of existence where every star in the cosmos danced.
- [29:54]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Then it was done and she was back in the room at the Academy. She'd transformed into her own Junfur. She let herself fall, weakened after housing the Loire. Martian arms caught her, strong but gentle, leading her to sit. They sat in turn about her, keeping their semi human forms and regarding her with round silver eyes that never blinked.
- [30:19]
Council Member / General Kurang
A tentacle extended to wrap warm and sinuous about her wrist, an invitation to join the Triumvirate.
- [30:30]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Still flush from the Loire.
- [30:32]
Council Member / General Kurang
She accepted.
- [30:34]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
That was nice, came the harmonious voices in her head. They layered each other, the three that were one. We, she answered back, also in her head. The Martians had mouths, sharp beaks like birds, but their speech was beyond human ears. This was much easier.
- [30:59]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Nu donci Count dansinu, they remarked, switching
- [31:03]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
between English and Creole, much as she did.
- [31:06]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I am very fond of Papa Da Mao.
- [31:10]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette didn't find that surprising. Damballa was the great creator of all
- [31:15]
Council Member / General Kurang
life, peace, and harmony.
- [31:18]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
He was also the protector of those who were different. It made sense that the Martians would
- [31:24]
Council Member / General Kurang
be drawn to him, and he to them.
- [31:27]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
You are quiet, the voices noted
- [31:32]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
when
- [31:33]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
regret sa, she apologized. My mind is elsewhere on your meeting with the Council. Minette frowned at her laps, building up her mental guards. In the Triumvirate, your mind was an open book if you weren't careful. Aziz was there, they said, catching a stray thought.
- [31:56]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Was it difficult seeing him again? Much time has passed since the two of you last coupled, but your feelings for him remain disordered. Perhaps the two of you should couple again.
- [32:09]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Annette flushed absently pulling her dress more tightly about her. An open book indeed. No, I won't be cup intimate with Aziz again, I explained before Noote mal. We let things get out of hand. He was married, for one, and they'd collected too many gray hairs between them to be getting on like school children. I have made you uncomfortable, they said contritely.
- [32:40]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Moan regrets la. I am not always aware.
- [32:45]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
It's not your fault. I just. She sighed. There was no easy way to say this, so instead she let down her guards. Her memories of the past morning flowed to the Triumvirate at the speed of thought. The Council meeting, the debate, the final decision. They examined each recollection, and in the silence that followed. Minette waited. Your Council is frightened, the voices said finally. We, she replied in frustration. It's disappointing. They give in to their fears.
- [33:23]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Their reasoning is not unsound.
- [33:26]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Monette's alarm reflected back to her in six silver eyes. How can you say that? It's preemptive nonsense. They're punishing you for something you might do, not what you've done. It's wrong. There was a pause as three heads cocked as one, considering her statement.
- [33:46]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I do not say I welcome Beverdict,
- [33:50]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
but the fear is understandable.
- [33:52]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
My people have not been kind to your world. Even you were frightened of my kind once.
- [34:00]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette's memories intruded without invitation. She had been a girl of 13 during the third Martian War. She remembered hiding in the shelters of Go naive with Grand Louise, who whispered assurances that Papa Toussaint and Papa Dessalines would not allow the island to be invaded again. She had grown up with all the fears about Martians until attending university and becoming fascinated with courses on them. She jumped at the chance to study with the three housed here at the Academy, even if in far away Marrakech. It had taken her a while to see them as more than specimens, and even longer to see them as less than monsters, but it was difficult to convince others to understand them as she did. You've read my thoughts, she said. You know what they plan to do. Separation, the voices whispered. The word struck Manette as hard as the first time she'd heard it. General Karang had called for euthanasia, but the Council balked. What they proposed, however, was little different and perhaps crueler. Martians abhorred individualism. Separated, they would lose their single consciousness, effectively cease to be like cutting a human brain into three separate parts. It was a murder of the soul, if not the flesh. Her guilt pulsed through the bond. If I hadn't introduced you to the Lua, none of this might have happened. Lisa fought Mountain.
- [35:42]
Sports Commentator
No.
- [35:42]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The sharpness of the voices startled her. This isn't your fault.
- [35:46]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
You have given my time in captivity meaning. I would not undo this even at the rescue of my life.
- [35:54]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
There was a pause.
- [35:55]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I have something to show you. Eskeoutavli Promnent.
- [36:00]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Manette frowned at the question. Go for a walk. But she gave a tentative mental nod of acceptance.
- [36:09]
Council Member / General Kurang
She barely had time to brace herself
- [36:11]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
before their combined consciousness enveloped her whole. The world broke apart, shattered, then reduced to a pinpoint of light before expanding everywhere at once, taking her with it. When she found her bearings again, she stood on the edge of a calm, moss green sea Strange plants, tall as trees, rooted in the russet soil, with wide blue petals opened to a sky blanketed by clouds.
- [36:40]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Do you like it?
- [36:42]
Council Member / General Kurang
They asked.
- [36:43]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The three that were one stood about her, their human forms abandoned and tentacles gliding freely just atop a field of mustard colored grass.
- [36:55]
Council Member / General Kurang
The air here was thick, almost viscous,
- [36:59]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
so that she could feel it hugging her skin. Above them a flock of featherless creatures soared on broad flat wings that looked more like flippers.
- [37:13]
Council Member / General Kurang
Sabel, she breathed. What is this place?
- [37:18]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Home, they answered with longing in their voices.
- [37:24]
Council Member / General Kurang
Minette gaped.
- [37:26]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Mars.
- [37:28]
Council Member / General Kurang
But how?
- [37:30]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
They had shown her their world in similar mental visions before, taken her to the sprawling subterranean mechanical cities, to the magma fields beneath the birthing catacombs, and to the hanging megaliths that housed the technocratic central intellectual. But the surface of that Mars was lifeless, scoured sterile by the relentless march of Martian industry.
- [37:53]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
This is how it was before, they
- [37:56]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
explained, hearing her unspoken thoughts.
- [38:00]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
The memory lay within me, passed on by forebears millions of years dead or no consciousness. Truly Eyes. The Loi awakened it again, and awakened this.
- [38:14]
Council Member / General Kurang
There was a wave of tentacles, and
- [38:17]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
from them flowed a ripple through the air.
- [38:21]
Council Member / General Kurang
Minette gasped. They were symbols and patterns of a multi hued cascade with dimensions that defied description.
- [38:30]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
She reached to touch one with a finger and the sound of hundreds of chimes trembled the world in a rush. It all vanished and she was back at the Academy. Was that she couldn't even finish. The magic of my people, they replied.
- [38:52]
Council Member / General Kurang
You've recovered it?
- [38:54]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
That is difficult to say, they answered.
- [38:58]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I have been trying, but it is
- [39:01]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
not easy working with something from which
- [39:03]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I have been so long separated.
- [39:06]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
It is alien to me and will take time to understand. Minette sighed wearily. But there was no time. Once the Council moved to separate the three, the possibility of Martian magic would die before it even had a chance to begin. Do what you can, she told them, and if there's a way I can help, you must let me know. She was set to say more when a tremor shook her. She turned with the triumvirate to look at the door sharing their preternatural senses.
- [39:40]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Someone has come to see you, they said.
- [39:44]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette withdrew from the One, returning to her singular consciousness and feeling suddenly very alone, her mind still ringing with what had just been uncovered. She was prepared to tell whoever it was to go away. Between housing Loi and joining the Triumirid, her body was weakened almost to the point of exhaustion. But it was rare they received visitors. Fear lanced through her. Was this the Council? Had they come for the Martians. Already gripped with trepidation, she forced herself up on wobbly legs and made her way from the room through the hallway. Reaching a door, she paused to lean against it for strength before pulling it open to reveal a stone courtyard where the Martians were allowed access once a day and found an unexpected sight. It was a six wheeled white carriage pulled by a giant winged ocelot, the very same she had seen beneath the flying citadel. The door to the conveyance opened and the haughty beast turned to regard her with four sets of expectant sapphire eyes. Hesitant, Manette stepped forward and climbed inside. Naturally, the carriage was larger within than without revealing a room lit by flickering tallow candles. At the far end of a long black lacquered dining table sat a familiar figure in a high backed red chair.
- [41:12]
Council Member / General Kurang
Greetings, Mambo.
- [41:15]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The mist faced woman slurred.
- [41:18]
Council Member / General Kurang
Please, will you sit?
- [41:22]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette remained standing. Such offers had to be thought through.
- [41:28]
Council Member / General Kurang
You may put away any fears, Mambo. True enough. Your delectable magic is like sugar to me. It is why I have placed such distance between us. To avoid temptation.
- [41:48]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette weighed that she could walk out now, but curiosity nod. What was a council member doing here? I accept that and no more, she said, sitting.
- [42:03]
Council Member / General Kurang
And no more.
- [42:05]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The small woman agreed. Your visit is unexpected.
- [42:10]
Council Member / General Kurang
Of course. That is why it is a secret visit.
- [42:16]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
She placed a shushing finger to the place where her lips might have been.
- [42:21]
Council Member / General Kurang
I have come to save your Martians.
- [42:25]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette sat stunned. But you voted with the others. The woman waved dismissively.
- [42:31]
Council Member / General Kurang
That cause was lost before it began, though General Korang will have her way. Or perhaps you can have yours. My sisters would like to take in you and your Martians. We would offer them sanctuary, away from the prying eyes of the Nations League. For a moment Minette only stared. Sanctuary?
- [43:05]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Where she finally managed. The woman wagged a scolding finger.
- [43:11]
Council Member / General Kurang
A secret scrumptious scented mambo would be less so if I told you, but I am willing to provide passage to this place.
- [43:31]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
A hundred hopes flared in Minette before she smothered them with doubt, remembering who and what this creature was.
- [43:39]
Council Member / General Kurang
Why?
- [43:40]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Why do you care about them?
- [43:43]
Council Member / General Kurang
Why?
- [43:44]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
For their magic, the mist faced woman admitted openly.
- [43:49]
Council Member / General Kurang
My sisters and I make no pretenses of our desires. We devour magic, savor its many essences. The possibility of Martian magic is most appealing. So exotic and untried. Now we would like to taste it.
- [44:17]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette grimaced. There was always a price. So you just want to eat them? Drain them of magic? The woman sighed.
- [44:28]
Council Member / General Kurang
Our kind are too maligned in your fairy tales, Langpo. Contrary to those stories, we are not like the boy with the goose and the eggs of gold. We would not deplete something so precious as to not see its like again. Think of this as an exchange. We offer sanctuary. In turn, we take only small bits at a time, as one would with any delicacy.
- [45:08]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette's stomach turned. These vampiresses couldn't be trusted, that was certain. But a secret place where her Martians could be together and they could explore their newfound magic that couldn't be dismissed out of hand. Her mind worked anxiously. There had to be a way. She had negotiated agreements with loi and demigods. She could handle this. You will promise by heart, head, and soul that no lasting harm will come to either myself or the Martians in your care, she stated. We will hash out a binding compact with a fair exchange between us and your sisters, where any offer of their magic is willingly given. Any breach of our agreement, and I
- [46:05]
Council Member / General Kurang
will have each of your names.
- [46:09]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Those black eyes above the misty veil
- [46:11]
Council Member / General Kurang
narrowed to slits, and Minette thought she heard a low hiss. A minor gale picked up.
- [46:19]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Bending the flames on the candles to demand the names of their kind was as good as asking them to offer up their cold, barren souls. The mention alone was offensive. Minette held fast, however, a few choice charms at the ready in case she needed to make a hasty exit. But the gale fast subsided and the woman slurred pleasantly, if also a bit tight.
- [46:48]
Council Member / General Kurang
Heart, head, and soul, or our names be given.
- [46:57]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Her eyes creased into a smile and
- [46:59]
Council Member / General Kurang
Minette had the distinct feeling that beneath that misty veil awaited a mouth of grinning fangs. Now, crafty little mambo, Let us see to that agreement.
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Council Member / General Kurang
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Narrator / Wil Wheaton
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- [49:05]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
It was two days later that Manette walked Marrakesh's night market. The souk was held beneath a full moon and spread out between alleyways and courtyards covered by colorful tents. Hawkers competed for customers, crying out their wares. Behind her followed three figures, two men and one woman. Some might have noted their odd gate, a glide just above the stone streets. More than a walk. But in a city brimming with magic, this was hardly worth a second glance. Not that a third or fourth glance would be able to penetrate the glamour now enveloping the three Martians. They seemed to relish their freedom, casting human eyes in every direction at the moment they were taken by a guild of harpy artists whose talons inked henna that bled and slithered across the skin. Under other circumstances, Manette might have been sympathetic to their gawping, but as it was, she simply wanted them to move faster. The mist faced woman had offered passage and sanctuary, but escaping the university was left to her. There was a dirigible waiting at the dockyards, waiting to ferry them off. Manette just had to get them there. So far that had been a success. Concocting a medicine that left the guards who watched over the Martians standing in an awake, sleeping state was simple now they only needed to reach their destination before the ruse was discovered. As the four stepped from beneath a canopy, the dockyards became visible, and Manette dared to believe they just might make it until someone called her name. Minette. She went still as stone, heart pounding at the familiar voice. Turning, she found herself looking at Aziz. He was striding toward her hurriedly, four Academy guards at his heels. Beside him was another recognizable figure.
- [51:01]
Council Member / General Kurang
She cursed General Korang.
- [51:06]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Panic blossomed in Minette. She thought to shout for her charges to run. She would somehow allow their escape. But as she saw the rifles in the hands of the guards, she faltered. The second the Martians ran, they would be Cut down. Uncertain of her next move, she resolved to stand her guard as the group reached them. Didn't I tell you? General Kuang declared boldly. Didn't I say she'd try something like this? Your professors spent too much time in a Martians heads. Can't find a way out again. Good thing we had them watched. Minette glared at Aziz. You had me watched? And for good reason, it seems, he retorted. Do you know how much trouble you're in? He ran a hand over his mouth the way he did when thinking hard, then leaned in close. We can still fix this. We can say the Martians coerced you did something to your head. Just get them to return. I'll talk to the general. Maybe your post can be salvaged. I wasn't coerced, she said tightly. The nerve of him to think she was simply the dupe of someone else's machinations. He damn well knew her better than that. I planned this, Aziza. The disappointment on his face only made her want to punch it. Enough for me, the general rumbled. She looked over the Martians, still cloaked in their glamour. Arrestor, then take these creatures back to their cages. If they give trouble, use whatever force is necessary. The four guards advanced. Minette glanced back to the dirigible meant for them, wanting to scream in exasperation at the nearness of freedom. So close. So infuriatingly close. Something slender and warm curled about her hand. She turned to one of the Martians, the unspoken request writ plain on that human mask.
- [53:08]
Council Member / General Kurang
She consented, joining the triumvirate.
- [53:12]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The sound of drums flowed through their bond, the rattle of an assault falling white petals and the call to the Loire of the battery.
- [53:23]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Open the door for me.
- [53:25]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The voices came. There's no time for this, minette said. Open the door. The voices asked again. She shook her head. Now I don't understand.
- [53:37]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
You asked how you could help.
- [53:40]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
I think I know the magic.
- [53:44]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
I have been trying to make it
- [53:45]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
work as a Martian. But I'm not a Martian anymore, am I? My magic was born of two worlds. It is that trueness I must embrace. Open the door.
- [53:59]
Martian Triumvirate Voices
Be our mambo and I will show you.
- [54:04]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette looked into those unblinking human eyes that seemed to plead and did as they asked. Her spirit moved in time to the music, and though she had no tobacco or fine things to give the doorman, she sang Papa Legba, ouvre baye pu mwen agoe. Pou mop red. Merci loyo.
- [54:41]
Council Member / General Kurang
Papa Legba came as called.
- [54:45]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
There was a look in his eyes
- [54:46]
Council Member / General Kurang
Beneath that wide brimmed hat that Minette had never seen before, he thumbed his pipe and, instead of going his usual
- [54:54]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
way, settled down to watch in the barn.
- [55:00]
Council Member / General Kurang
A mix of Creole and Martian tongues sent a current flowing through Minette, one
- [55:07]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
that she'd only recently felt before.
- [55:10]
Council Member / General Kurang
Martian magic, both alien and exhilarating.
- [55:14]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
It blended with the song, played along with the battery in a psalm, merging her voice and spirit with the three Martians until all became one on the ground. A symbol appeared all around them, drawn in ghostly white Damballas veve serpents winding along a pole. The flows of Martian magic superimposed themselves upon it, creating multiple dimensions that folded and bent one on the other, calling on the law who was their protector. Papa Damballa appeared, but not like Minette had ever seen. This Damballa was a being made up
- [55:59]
Council Member / General Kurang
of tentacles of light intertwined to form the body of a great white serpent, and she suddenly understood what she was seeing.
- [56:12]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
The Loire met the needs of their children. Papa Damballa had left Africa's shores and
- [56:21]
Council Member / General Kurang
changed in the bowels of slave ships.
- [56:25]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
He changed under the harsh toil of sugar and coffee plantations. And when his children wielded machetes and fire to win freedom, he changed then, too.
- [56:39]
Council Member / General Kurang
Now, to protect his newest children, born of two worlds, he changed once again.
- [56:48]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Minette opened up to the Loire, and Martian magic coursed through her, erupting from her fingertips. The guards, General Qurang and Aziz drew back as the great tentacles of Papa Damballa grew up from her, rising above the market tents as a towering white serpent, a leviathan that burned bright against the night. For a moment, brief as a heartbeat, or as long as the burning heart of a star, it seemed to Manette, she saw through the loa's eyes. The cosmos danced about her. It trembled and heaved and moved. And then Damballa was gone. Manette staggered, so weakened she almost fell. Once again, Martian hands caught her, lifted
- [57:42]
Council Member / General Kurang
her, supporting their mambo.
- [57:45]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
She caught a glimpse of Legba, and her thoughts reached out to him. Had she seen another face of Papa Damballa?
- [57:51]
Council Member / General Kurang
Or was this the birth of a
- [57:53]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Loire, something old, yet new and different? But the keeper of Rhodes didn't answer. He only smiled, as if to a child, asking at the color of the sky. With a flick to the brim of his hat, he vanished. Manette returned fully to the world to find Aziz staring. His face was wrapped, gazing over both her and the Martians. And every now and again, glancing skyward, he had seen Damballa. She looked about all through the souk tongues had quieted as AIs watched both she and the Martians, gaping at the phantom glow in the night sky left in the loa's wake. They had all seen. Nice share you've pit on, general Korang growled. Doesn't change anything. Her voice was brusque as usual, but something of it was less sure than before. Oh, she'd seen too, but this woman was too tough, too stubborn to be quelled by even a passing God. Actually, this does change things. Manette turned in surprise to see it was Aziz. His voice tremored, but he turned to address the general. The Martians have shown that they can create their own magic. You saw it, felt it. Everyone did. He gestured to the gathered crowd. That, at the least, allows them protection under the nation's League charter. General Karang's jaw went tight. To his credit, Aziz didn't back down, though Minette was certain the woman could go through him if need be. The guards at her side looked on, nervous and uncertain. Finally, something about the woman eased an owl. Deciding perhaps there were too many mice to snare at once, she spared a withering glare for Aziz before eyeing Minette. Do what you want with your Martians, Professor. For now. Just you remember, though. Laws can be changed. Then, turning on her heels, she stalked off, shouldering her way through the crowd. She's right, aziz said, releasing a relieved breath. Things could be different by morning. The world will be different by morning. He nodded towards the waiting dirigible. Wherever you were going, you should get there. At least until we can sort all this out. There was a pause. I should have backed you. Yes, she told him, you should have. And then thank you, she thought. She even meant it. Not waiting for things to get awkward, she allowed herself to be helped by the Martians to the diritual. Once inside, she slumped into a seat just as the craft lurched off the ground and watched their slow ascent into Marrakesh's night and down to where Aziz still stood. He grew smaller as they pulled away,
- [61:11]
Council Member / General Kurang
melding into the city.
- [61:13]
Narrator / Wil Wheaton
Turning, she looked to the Martians that sat nearby. No longer wrapped in the glamour, they regarded their mambo with silver eyes, expectant eyes. There was more to show her. When a tentacle extended in invitation, she gladly, eagerly accepted, and the four became one. Fenderson Jelly Clark is the author of the novels A Benny's Song, A Master of Gin, and the award winning and Hugo, Nebula, and Sturgeon, nominated author of the novellas the Dead, Cattail Assassins, Ring shout, the Black God's Drums, and the Haunting of Tramcar 015. His short stories have appeared in online venues such as Tor.com, heroic Fantasy Quarterly, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, and in print anthologies including Riots and Hidden Youth. You can find him on social media and at his blog, the Disgruntled Horadrim. Welcome to the credits. It's Storytime with Wil Wheaton was produced in 2026 by Traveler Enterprises Incorporated, who holds the copyright. Our producer is Harris Lane. Thank you, Harris. Our story producer and director, on the Other side of the Glass is Gabrielle dicure. Gabrielle, you rule. Our content creator is Michael Thomas. Michael, we could not do any of this without you. Our podcast is edited, mixed and mastered by the great Alex Barton of Phase Shift av. Did y' all know that Alex is in the UK and does a lot of the work for us when we're asleep? Thank you, Alex. We appreciate you. Very special thanks to Wes Stevens and Christopher Black and everyone over at Rhapsody Voices. You are doing all the things that I don't know how to do. Are you ready, everybody? Here it comes. Get ready for the celebration of the San Fernando Valley, because that is where I am sitting right now. We are recorded at Skyboat Media in the magnificent San Fernando Valley, which yesterday was filled with smoke because one of our brush fires happened next to the freeway. No one was hurt, but the traffic. Oh, the traffic. Hey, thank you all so much for listening. I am Will. I am your host. I exist@willwheaton.net you can find me. It's Wil Wheaton on threads and Instagram. I don't use the Nazi social network and I rarely on Blue Sky. If you would like to experience an ad free feed of our stories as well as my reflections about what the story meant to me and what it was like putting it together. To see our marked up scripts, to hear Gabrielle and I talk about what we're going to do and oh, the bloopers, my friends, the bloopers. Check us out at patreon. It's patreon.com storytime. That's all until next time. Take care of yourselves and take care of each other.
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