New Sci-Fi Novellas: Aliens in Medieval England

For the next two novellas, I am returning to my Myths Endure on Mars series. Both novellas will take place on Earth though within the same universe and time frame and with many of the same characters. 

The last Myths Endure on Mars' book, Saint of Mars, tackles the canonization of a Mars' citizen, which process is complicated by a murder. The book focuses on my detectives, Rhys and Lider, as well as Francesca Paraclete, the Devil's Advocate (a title I returned to my futuristic Catholic church). 

The coming book is told entirely by Francesca or Frankie. Once again, she and her team are investigating the possible canonization of a saint, Lady Margaret. Lady Margaret is a Siphon or merperson, one of four sentient species on Earth. She is also from the early medieval era.

Frankie must consequently not only deal with political issues--those who support a Siphon becoming a saint; those who don't--she must also tackle the greater problem of trying to locate proof of heroic virtue, martyrdom, holiness, and miracles in ambiguous, partial histories and time-worn artifacts. Members of her team are not entirely on-board, especially regarding the miracles. Proving miracles in the here-and-now is difficult enough. Proving lore-based miracles is nigh impossible (though easier in some ways without lurking modern experts). 

In addition, Frankie is dealing with a possible spy from the College of Cardinals, a cat-like being who insists on accompanying her everywhere, as well as her personal invisible consultant, a Cubus named Will, who is possibly over 2,000 years old. 

To  keep things simple, Frankie focuses on locating Lady Margaret's relics. Frankie, her spy, and her consultant start that search in Bamburgh Castle in Northern England. Their investigation will take them to the Faroe Islands, the Isle of Man, King Arthur's Carlisle and Norton Priory. At each location, they encounter lore connected to the sea and, possibly, Lady Margaret. 

Once they locate Lady Margaret's relics, Frankie hopes, the investigation can proceed in its customary manner. 

The first half of the first chapter is below. The entire first chapter will be posted at the end of the week.

* * *   

Frankie

“Just because people say someone is Saint doesn’t mean the someone is a Saint,” Phillipe Jorgensen said.

“Except that’s precisely how canonization works,” Will said, amused as he always was by Phillipe.

Phillipe couldn’t hear Will, and he would have barreled on anyway.

“The story of the Laidly Wyrm is just that. Story. Fable. Oral histories are not reliable evidence.”

“Troy turned out to be a real city,” Xavier Jones said. “The Iliad wasn’t entirely invented.”

“Troy was discovered after years of excavations. There is still no definite proof of a Trojan War.”

“A big wooden horse stored under someone’s bed,” Will muttered.

Will was a Cubus, an invisible being on his way to corporeality. Currently, only Francesca Paraclete, the Congregation’s Promoter of the Faith or Devil's Advocate, could hear and see Will, and she could only see him in her dreams.  

Which didn’t mean Phillipe wasn’t aware of Will’s possible opinion. Francesca was tagged. Her link to Will was official. Eventually, Will would become fully human and presumably remain by her side.

Francesca would believe such unlikely loyalty when she literally saw it.

She said, “Lady Margaret would be the first non-human saint.”

“I’m aware,” Phillipe said curtly.

At the end of the table, Victor Federov grinned, and Justin Pereira sighed. Victor and Justin usually handled the more tangible, forensical side of the Congregation’s investigations: interviewing devotees, proving miracles, testing relics and such. Phillipe handled related documents.

Phillipe said, “There are plenty of current Catholic Siphons. There’s no need to fall back on the medieval era.”

Four sentient species occupied Earth: humans, Anthros, Cubi, and Siphons. The non-human species came forward nearly a hundred years earlier when Mars’ colonization began in earnest. Space travel apparently called up images of bug-eyed aliens playing instruments in a bar. The reasoning seemed to be that since travel to other planets had begun, "aliens" would be more easily accepted.

If only life were that easy.

Until the last thirty years, the non-human species had held onto their “alien” identities. Anthros and Siphons, at least. Cubi never bothered. The history of incubae and succubae was too embedded in human history to disentangled. Alien or not, Cubi had been around a long time and even now weren’t trusted.

Quite recently, Siphons had begun to argue that they (at least) evolved on Earth. Siphons should be permitted to enter various human-only communities: help colonize Mars; become Catholic clerics.

Offer up a Saint.

Frankie knew Phillipe well enough by now to not assume prejudice on his part. Phillipe would reject King Arthur if the name was offered. Shoddy scholarship offended Phillipe.

I borrowed Phillipe's look

from Semantic Error & sulky

Regency young man.

The other members of the Congregation knew Phillipe pretty well by now too. Justin and Victor leaned back to watch the show.

Xavier Jones said, “Lady Margaret’s postulator assures the existence of relics.”

Xavier was a mouthpiece from the Vatican, so not entirely one of “them.” Frankie tried to meet all his statements with equanimity, to not to send Phillipe a warning glance. His Holiness wanted the canonization to go forward. The College of Cardinals was less sure. Frankie didn’t know yet who precisely had assigned Xavier to the Congregation.

Phillipe said to Frankie, not Xavier, “Supposedly there are relics. And a relic is hardly enough—even if DNA testing proves that the remains come from a Siphon,” he added before Justin could chime in.

However testy and officious, Phillipe was one of theirs now—he’d joined the Congregation for the Mars’ canonization—so Justin merely shrugged.

Phillipe threw a look at Frankie that she could almost call pleading if not for the jutting underlip.

“If any celebrity with a following gets to be a Saint, every Saint gets called into question,” he said. “Sainthood becomes whim, superstition. Wishful thinking.” 

“Except that’s how Saints have always begun,” Frankie said.

She didn’t need to point out the history to Phillipe, that the first Saints—also from the early medieval era—were Saints within their communities before they were acknowledged Saints by a central authority. They gained shrines and prayers. The canonization process came about relatively late, historically speaking.

Will, the oldest being in the room, murmured, “Celebrity cults have always existed. They make centralized organizations excessively uneasy. Poor Saint Christopher.”

Saint Christopher carried the Christ child across a river. So said the legend. His feast was dropped when Pope Paul VI released Mysterii Paschalis, an apostolic letter rearranging the liturgical calendar.

Another rearrangement was currently in process with input from Monseigneur Rhys, who oversaw the Mars’ diocese. More feasts and saints to add and drop.

Frankie didn’t repeat Will’s remark. She was never entirely sure if Phillipe even agreed with the making of Saints, let alone the required checklist of achievements and attributes. He advocated for the “total life experience,” which meant not only tracking down proof of a saint’s existence but documents about everything and anything that possibly impinged on or near the prospective saint.

For all Frankie knew, Phillipe would challenge the Sainthood of Pope Paul VI as bureaucratic rubber-stamping from the twenty-first century. And Phillipe’s skepticism was not the take-away Frankie wanted Xavier to carry back to the cardinals or to the pope.