The Exile - Part 4: Daughters of Mars
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Welcome to Curious Matter Anthology. I am your host, Jonathan Pezza. I hope you are enjoying our presentation of The Exile.

We have some great announcements this week. There are new Exile-themed t-shirts, posters, and more available in our merch store. Show off your fandom and help support the show by heading over to cmanthology.com and getting yourself some cool Curious Matter swag today. We also want to know how all you amazing creative people out there see the series, and we are launching our very first fan art contest.

If you're interested, email your art to cmanthology at curiousmatterpodcast.com and we will feature it on our website and Instagram and award the artist with the best piece, a limited edition copper-plated Marsport police badge. Okay, let's jump back into the story. It's been a rough road for Bryce so far. In the last episode, our exile found herself transferred to a special precinct for outsiders and troublemakers in a shanty-turned-war zone called The Huddle.

For one brief moment, Bryce thought she had found a compromise, a way to do a sliver of good in a sea of madness and struggle with the help of a gang leader named FreeTag. But the people in power had other ruthless and brutal plans how to end the street war. Fire. Burn out the shot callers from the warring gangs while they sleep, and send all the captured rioters to the camps.

In a desperate race to stop the arsonists from killing hundreds of innocent people in the lion's den, the mysterious station chief, the man holding the key to Bryce's return to her daughter on Earth, revealed his true identity. He was none other than her new commanding officer in the municipal police, a man named Murdock.

In a desperate race to stop the arsonists from killing hundreds of innocent people in the lion's den, the mysterious station chief, the man holding the key to Bryce's return to her daughter on Earth, revealed his true identity was none other than her new commanding officer in the municipal police, a man named Murdock.

Though they manage to get most of the residents out in time, Bryce learns firsthand the lengths Governor Wayne will go to to silence any opposition to his stranglehold on Marsport. Curious Matter Anthology is an immersive HD audio experience and is best enjoyed via high-quality headphones. This story contains explicit content and may not be suitable for younger audiences and includes adult themes, language, and violence similar to an R-rated film.

So without further ado, sit back, grab that bowl of popcorn, and enjoy The Exile Part 4: Daughters of Mars.

Scratching my nutsap, dropping rap like fuck rap I stepped outside of my show and got robbed by one of them thug cats Fun fact, people jump me like bounce caps All I gotta do for it to happen is go to 10 and count backwards Hearing the crowds laughing, sit about my desk passin' Someone walked back, they laughin', so damn man, you's a sad bastard But cops slip in the car, they're no smart victim They're convicts, criminals, and cogs in the cop system The middle finger, if you talkin' shit, but never do a damn thing Take a swing, man, I'm crazy and confused, and

That was Sour Turn. And on that note, got a mandatory message from the King Clown himself, the Honorable Governor Wayne. Let's take a listen.

This ought to be good. My fellow citizens of Mars, I am here today to assure you that the last embers of unrest in the outskirts of Marsport have been quelled. It is unfortunate when our brothers and sisters in the great endeavor take it upon themselves to disturb the order of our fair cities. We are all connected.

Bad decisions made by a few can have rippling consequences and thus have been met with a swift and appropriate response. Our ecosystem, our very way of life is still in its infancy and our enemies, those that would take it from us, must be stopped at all costs. As the elections approach, I am assured that the...

I don't know what happened. The file must be corrupt, you know. Old gear. What are you gonna do? All you brothers and sisters out there making those bad decisions? I feel you. A lot of that going around. This next song is dedicated to the rollers in the shanties and the dying domes. Keep your pencil sharp. The world out there feels like all the bubbles are about to pop. But it's the paper box and the blades that are gonna change things. Get out there and vote. And vote. And vote.

I think we're losing reception from Marsport. The magnetic field from the big machine messes with the signals. That thing. So that's one of the great machines. I thought it'd be bigger. Yep. Well, I guess it'll be your scintillating conversation from here on. What? You know you can turn that thing off. I'm in the club. Murdoch trusts me.

Murdock doesn't trust anyone. Marsport had been a ghost town in the two weeks since everything went to shit in District 6. The huddle, South Edge, Rocketville, and all the other shanties around the city. Well, they got the message Wayne intended loud and clear. Fuck with the order of things and burn.

Freetag and all the non-Wayne-aligned gang simply melted away into their secret hidey-holes in the outer domes while most of us at the outcast precinct had been placed on administrative leave as the brass sorted shit out. Hard to be a spy or whatever the fuck I am, stuck playing stellar solo in my apartment all day. Wanna tell me where we're going? No. Yeah, this is gonna be fun. I fucking hate road trips.

No one should ever be left alone in the middle of nowhere with their... It was a recipe for disaster. How many of those things are there on Mars, anyway? The terraforming stations? How the fuck would I know? I thought all you agents did your homework. Seems like something worth knowing. How long have you been stationed here on Mars for? I was born here. What? Why does a true-born Martian join up with TSEC?

How does a Martian even join TSEC? None of your fucking business. Got an Earth fetish? I get it. It ain't all that great though, let me tell you. Still better than this shithole though. Listen, whatever your name is, I have no idea what the hell we are doing all the way out here, but if Murdock wants me to watch your back, that's what I'm gonna do. Maybe... maybe just don't be a dick about it. Just a thought. I'm not being a dick. Okay, Darth Vader.

Darth who? What's a Darth Vader? Okay, what's a Darth whatever? Now isn't that better without the face shield? Bad guy. Deep voice. From that old pre-melt movie. Carries a laser sword. Never heard of him. Yeah, I guess they don't have old movies here. I'll add that to the list. The face that looks over from the driver's seat is younger than I would have guessed. Maybe 20 at most.

The tattoo on her cheek sits just below ice blue eyes that carry the weight of having seen things far beyond her years. Laser swords sound cool. They kind of were. So, what do I call you? Three. Okay. Agent Three. No, just Three. Parents weren't all that creative, I guess. I've never known a Three before. So maybe more than you think. Farming Enclave is coming up. We need to head north from there. Two?

You'll know when we get there. The transport rumbled across the plateau, taking us farther and farther from the refuge of Marsport, such as it was. Out here, there was only vast, untamed, and hostile wilderness, waiting patiently for a mistake or a malfunction to make us easy prey.

The only signs of life for ours had been the giant tower-like machine stretching into the sky miles to our south. Primordial god-sized finger pointed toward the heavens with a frozen permanent ring of clouds at its peak, like the smoke ring in some cheap magician's trick. As the farming enclave slowly came into view on the horizon, its tube-shaped greenhouses rose from the rust-colored terrain.

A freight convoy was just beginning to worm its way back the direction we came. Laden with grain, soy, and algae. The base ingredients of the Martian diet. Why are all the farms so far from the city? It's a lot of trouble to go to, shipping the food across the plateau. Control. Control. All things in their place. All people in their place. Neat, tidy, and doomed. Where are the domes? No domes.

Only thing out here worth protecting is the food. What? Stop the drape port! System's nominal. Oxygen supply at 100%. Wait! I saw it. Only a moment. Darting between the buildings like a blur or a dream. But unmistakable.

Then suddenly, there it was again. A flash of cloth between storage tanks, moving like the wind. Wait! Please! And then just as quickly, it was gone. Disappearing into the exhaust vent of one of the aging greenhouses. I'm not going to hurt you. You can come out. It's okay. I promise. For fuck's sake, what the hell was that about? I didn't imagine it. Imagine what? I fell to my knees in the wet dirt. There, in the mud created by the organic runoff.

It was in front of me as clear as day. A tiny child's bare footprint. Hey, get away from her! Get some more of the men. We have another one. We were just passing through. What is this about? You tell Nicholas we aren't giving up another kilo, okay? We're barely making quota as it is. Look, we aren't whoever you think we are. The little girl. How? Step away from the vent! Who sent you? Look, this is just a mistake.

Ours. We'll be on our way. Never saw anything. How is this possible? Leave now or we feed you to the sh- I don't think they mean us any harm. We really don't. You were born in the mining camp. How did you- A tattoo. Oh, oh, yeah. Dear girl, I can't even imagine what you've seen. Those places. Every one of them should be wiped off the face of Mars. Yeah, well- You're not with Nicholas and his goons. No. No. No.

Bonnie? Bonnie! Baby, come out! This is... Actually, I didn't get your names. Hi, I'm Bryce. I'm sorry if I scared you before. This is my friend Three. Hey, this is our little miracle. How is this possible? Bonnie was born strong. The soil makes us strong, right baby? Right. The true born Martian. The A limit? An Earth rule.

Just doesn't apply here. Not for her. She's not alone. We've heard rumors of other children as far out as Shabbatana. Just rumors. Bonnie, it's very nice to meet you. My daughter would be just a little older than you now. It's nice to meet you too. Where does she live? Can she come play? She lives a long way away. I'm sure she would love to play if she were here. We should get her back to school.

She likes to run off and explore. I would too if I could do it like you. It's time for us to make tracks anyway. Say bye-bye, you heading west? Yeah. Well, you be careful, okay? I'll see you back to your transport. Of course. Look, I don't know what you're really doing out here, but I'm not fool enough to think if you're headed to the camp from Marsport, it's for much good.

Drop ships have been heard breaking atmo out on the Mariner Strait. Only thing out there is the camp. Something's brewing, and we don't want it spilling out here. It's our job to make sure that doesn't happen. It's not just the atmosphere that's changing. There's a storm on the horizon. It's about as plain to see as anything. This planet was never meant for people. We're intruders here, but you still try to make it home.

Six generations my family's coaxed, cultivated, and fought the soil. But it took my daughter and the others being born like her from Mars to finally open her arms to us. We will never make this place Earth, but then we don't have to. Children have this way of shifting the reality of things like it's nothing. To them, it just is. It's us that have the trouble changing. Those dropships, that's the mission, right?

Yep. I thought the ports were the only places they could land. Yep. Yeah. Before you ask, we don't know. Is Wayne behind it, or is it one of the gangs? Any gang on this side of Mars with the juice to divert traffic from the Gateway is in Wayne's palm. Do you have any idea what shipments are being diverted? That's just it. Our informant up there says these containers don't appear on the manifests.

There are only 18 active freighters ferrying between Earth and Mars. They drop their haul and pick up the return cargo in a single orbit. That's why the fight for Martian independence was only the single battle to take the station. Whoever controls Gateway controls the fate of both Earth and Mars. How does Mars maintain it? See, that's just it. They can't. Way too much tech. Earth still operates it under "Martian" management.

In exchange for the ore coming out of the camps. Yep. Earth long ran dry on all the good stuff. More so, I hear. Alright, this is us. The last several clicks are suits and boots. Hey. What? Whatever happens out there, Three. I've got your Six. You've been waiting all day to say that, haven't you? Yes. Yes, I have. We approached the camp with the sun low in the sky over the vast Mariner Valley.

The facility clung to the rock like a barnacle, a massive terraced scar in the wall of the valley below us. Here, grab the optics from my pack. Scope. Never seen more than a single container at a time. Normally they're hauled over land by transport. Here, take a look. There was no hiding the giant shipping containers, built to withstand the rigors of repeated journeys across the solar system. I can't.

Looks like they set up a makeshift landing pad on the valley floor. There, outside the security fence. So what's the play? We scale the slope on foot. The containers are outside the fences so all the guards should be focused on the inmates inside. We crack a tin can, take a peek, and climb back up before sunrise. Two clicks down, two clicks up. In about an hour the sun will be down, sunset storm will hit, and we use it as cover.

Till then, we wait. Okay. You grew up here? Mom and dad met in there. Normally they keep the women from being able to have children. But... accidents happen. No one on Earth knows these places exist. Earth built them. And it was Earth that filled them. Yeah. Different rock, same shit. Then why TSEC? Why work for Earth? Know anyone else trying to make a difference? Oh.

Is that what we're doing? I gave up that sort of thinking a long time ago. That why you committed treason? What? You heard me. One man's treason, right? Now who isn't sharing? You should ask Murdock. Oh, I did. I... I found something. Something no one was supposed to know and... and I paid the price. Simple as that. So, what was it? If Murdock wanted you to know...

He would have told you. Now you're catching on. I'm a slow study. So, daughter back on Earth. What? You mentioned it. To the breather. Yeah. I guess I did. Not that I was any sort of mom to her when I was there. Yeah, all this doesn't really read mom material. No, she's all I think about. Welcome to Mars. Mars.

I really don't think anyone here uses that particular phrase correctly. Oh, believe me, we do. I fucking hate this place. Welcome to the club. But hey, there ain't a prison in this solar system you can't escape if you're willing to die in the tribe. Time to go. You ever done one of these before? A stealth night op? I broke out of this place once. I think I can break back in.

like clockwork. The dust storm came whipping down the valley, a shockwave driven by the rapidly dropping temperature. It took us almost two hours to warm our way down the slope, the electrified fence never more than ten yards away. Even at this distance, through the sand and wind, I could tell how bad things were inside. Terrace after terrace of housing blocks huddled against the onslaught of wind.

Guards with swatters applying their violence to anyone who moved a fraction too slow. It was hell made real. Freetag's sister, all the detainees from District 6, and how many thousands more. Every fiber of my being not to throw myself at the fence and tear it open with my teeth if need be. But my companion's eyes never left the slope. And so I did as I had promised and followed her lead.

My eyes no longer leaving her back in defense of my own sanity. Over here! Move! Get down! These guards aren't focused inside. Yes, I can see that. Just making shit. They're using the prisoners. The containers have been converted into some kind of factory. Well, then we need to get inside. In the mine, there's usually a break between shifts for the guards to do a security sweep.

Block D clear! Block D clear! Now's our chance. Let's move. We may only have a few minutes. We crossed the open stretch to the first container, careful to stay out of the pools of light created by the arc lamps. Using the darkness and lessening storm as a cloak against detection. Clear! Move up. Centrifuges. Ovens. An electron microscope. What is this? Check those tanks.

Some sort of acid from the markings. They're producing some sort of fiber. Some sort of drug, maybe. Move. Behind the tanks. How close is the shipment to being ready? Assembly is obviously complete, but we are still having trouble meeting quota. We could ship with what we have, but it's roughly 50%. Do you want to chime in about this monumental fucking tragedy? How am I supposed to know how long this shit takes? You said work them around the clock.

That's what I've been doing. Refining lab-grade cellulose is more complicated than the workers are used to. They are miners, not lab technicians. Yeah, I mean this shit is beyond me. Do you need more workers or more crops? No, we have ample raw material. It is the refinement process itself. I just need more time. You got four days. And even I can't save you. Now take me to see the assembled toys.

They better be fucking perfect. They are as pretty as sunrise balls. That was Baldus Jergens, a high level enforcer for Wayne and the Seven. Yeah, we've met. I didn't recognize the other two, but it's likely the short one was with the Trades Guild. I should be able to run an ID on him. The third- Fel Corey. Is he some relation to that smuggler set up out in New Kinross near the spaceport? Her grandson. Estranged. You got history?

Something like that. We need to move. Next shift is going to load in soon. Far side. Looks like they're loading a transport. Might be our only chance. On you. We made our way across the compound where a giant rough concrete pad had been erected for the dropships to land safely. In lieu of the spacecraft was an industrial food transport, like the ones we passed approaching the farm enclave. Whatever they were making here was being smuggled with the food into Marsport.

Two guards. You take the one near the loading door. I'll take down the other one. Copy. Stop right there! Hands on your helmet! I froze instantly in my tracks, the chill of realization hitting like a lightning bolt. Not that we had failed to notice the third guard, or that I had been stupid enough not to check my own six, but because of what was in his hands. A sound that was unmistakable. Turn around. Slowly. Don't move!

Is it turn around or don't move? I said turn around! Okay. No need to get jumpy. As I turned to see the young terrified face in the guard rig, all of the pieces fell together. I didn't need to see what was inside of the transport to know what was there. You might want to drop that, though. It's in your best interest. I'm the one doing the- I'll take that. He was just a kid. He saw you.

You have no idea what the guards do in there. He deserved it. Trust me. Here. All three were armed with these. You know the make. Who on Earth would be stupid enough to supply these? Sino-Federation K-11s. Replaced the Kalashnikovs in pretty much every shithole pocket of Earth about a century ago. The list is too big. Time to crack open this tin can. There, pop one of those.

there is enough here for an army as brutal and violent as this planet is no one in 150 years not the earth defense forces the police or the gangs had ever been insane enough to break the rule guns and domes don't mix an absolute simple enough every school kid knows the phrase you throw a rock at a fishbowl every fish inside dies

One of these bullets could travel ten miles and tear a hole in every dome and aluminum hab along its path. And there were millions here. Grab a case. We need evidence. No! We can't risk hitting the cat. Then what is the play? We're gonna be overrun. You're the super cop. I need to make for the container. Get more cover between us and use the darkroom. John, you're on that side. On three.

I really don't like you. One... Three! I count four. Two on this side. Alright, we move that way. That's a 20 meter gap without cover! You wanna go first or second? Second! Definitely second. Let's move. I slid into cover, my heart pounding in my ears expecting three to follow right behind me. And combat time sort of freezes. Moments become hours.

But she never arrived. I crawled back to the edge, thinking she had simply frozen and not had the nerve to follow the big, crazy Earther. But there, on the rough concrete pad, only feet from the cargo transport, laid her motionless body in a pool of blood. I don't know how long I was in that state, or how many I killed. But when the fog finally cleared,

We were alone on the transport. The smell of blood was thick and coppery. Three's body was seated next to me as her eyes stared blankly out at a sunrise she would never see. We didn't expect to see you again. Where's... Oh. Oh, hell, you're hurt. Is that... I didn't know where else to take her. Hey, over here! We need a hand! Get help! Morning, sleepyhead. Ah!

Safe. You've been sleeping three days. Bonnie, baby, go tell father that our guest is awake. Be right back. We patched you up. It's lucky your rig's self-sealed. That bullet went clean through. You are very lucky. Your friend was beyond our aid. I know. I'm not going to ask you how you came by your wounds. You... You and everyone here are... You've already brought us enough danger, wouldn't you agree?

The less we know. Where's three? Baby, stay down here, okay? But why? Because I told you to. Glad to see you're still with us. Where is she? You saw your friend's body back to the soil. It was the least we could do for her. I need to get back to the city. I patched your rig. I was tempted to keep it. It's pretty fancy. Father. What? It is. Thank you. Take it slow. Here.

I need to get to my transport. Okay, just let me help you. I know that you have already done so much. But can I ask one more thing? My friend, her name was Three. Would you say something for her? She deserves that. Yes, of course. We're all here. Friends, we gather here to lay to rest a daughter of Mars. We know little about her life.

and less of how it tragically ended. But that matters not in the cycle of things. Her name was Three, and even though she carried the mark of the broken, she stood tall and free. She was a child of the Red Soil, and so family to all of us here. The Soil is strong. The Soil is strong. As such, we commit her body back to it with the hope

that she may find peace in the eternal embrace and love of Mother Mars. As the transport slowly crawled back to the city, it dawned on me. I had become the harbinger riding forth on a pale horse. All that kept running over and over in my mind was what that girl's father had said. A storm was on the horizon, and no one was ready. I fucking hate road trips. I'm a monster.

I'm a monster. I hope you enjoyed this installment of The Exile. If you just can't wait for the next episode, did you know you can listen to it right now? That's right. You can get early access and ad-free listening to every episode in the series by subscribing to CMA Universe Plus exclusively on Apple Podcasts. Want to dive even deeper?

Join us for a live listen. Meet the cast and go behind the scenes in our aftershows presented at twitch.com slash effin' funny. 7 p.m. Eastern Time on the Tuesdays, each main episode airs. You can connect with us online on Facebook and Instagram under the handle at CM Anthology. If you love the show, please give us a review on Apple Podcasts, a comment on Spotify, or review us on your favorite podcast app.

For more information about the show, our interactive map, our visual guide, merch, and a whole lot more, check us out online at cmanthology.com. Tonight's show starred Tiffany Smith as Bryce Gordon and featured the voices of Eugene Bird as Shel Corey, Colin Ferguson as Governor Wayne, Tricia Helfer as the mother, Tien Nguyen as Bonnie, Kevin Smith as the father, Todd Stashwick as Juergens,

Amy Vorpel as Three. With additional voices by Jason Irvin, Philip Gray, Matt Hoban, Alex Mercado, Blythe Renee, and Mohamed Moiz Riaz. This episode was written, designed, and edited by me, your host, Jonathan Pezza. Voice directing by Tiffany Smith and Jonathan Pezza.

The Exile was made possible by the amazing support of our Kickstarter backers. Executive produced by Scott Pezza and Dan Evans. Co-executive produced by Richard J. Pezza, Patrick Lepilato, and Derek A. Hughes. It was produced by Jonathan Pezza, Tiffany Smith, and Sandeep Parikh.

and co-produced by Ali Mashiecki and Jack Bowman. Assistant editing by Mohamed Moise Riaz and Francis Pezza. Original score composed by Jonathan Pezza with additional tracks provided by Epidemic Sound. And featuring the musical talent of Philip Ayers, Blood Red Son, Bonnie Grace, Dream, Hampus Neselius, Yee Nantero, Panda Raps, Silver Maple, and Jay Vartan.

The Exile is based on Police Your Planet by Lester Del Rey, a literary work in the public domain, and was produced in accordance with U.S. copyright law. Curious Matter Anthology is produced by the Knightsville Workshop in association with FNFunny Productions. Copyright Knightsville Workshop 2024, all rights reserved. Make sure to tune back in next week for our upcoming mini-sode titled Three Ghosts. See you then, and as always, thank you for listening.

The Fable & Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish. Greetings, fans of the esoteric, and welcome to the trailer for Madame Magenta Sonnus Mystica. Hang on, why am I doing my own trailer? Well, the people want to see their star, my dear. No one can see me, Bernard. This is a podcast. Oh.

You know what? I should have that deep voice chap doing this. You know the one. What's his name? Oh, the... Strange name. Yes. Like a fruit. Red pepper, yes. In a world where something, something, something... That's the one. Oh, it's quite sexy, Bernard. Save that for later. I'm not sure I can keep it up. You've never had a problem before? That was a very clever joke. Yes. I am a very turgid man. You are? I'm going to...

I'm going to make a cup of tea, you do the trailer. Oh, right you are. In a world... Earl Grey or normal? Earl Grey, please. In a world where ghosts and angels walk amongst us... Float! They float! ...and float amongst us stands one woman, Magenta. Oh, God, my bloody spirit guide's frozen the milk again. It's going to have to be iced tea, I'm afraid. Oh, all right, fair enough. Psychic, medium... My throat...

Oh, uh, Magenta, I can't do this anymore. Bernard, you won't get nodules. You're not Adele. Well, actually, interestingly enough, that wasn't nodules. That was an exploding polyp. Oh, God. Can you imagine that? Exploding polyp. Anyway, that's not why I can't do the trailer anymore. Oh, do you mean... Yes, the angelic manifestation by the dog bed, yes. Oh, here we go again. What do you want?

From the makers of Mockery Manor comes Madame Magenta, Sonos Mystica. For all fans of the esoteric. Available now wherever you get podcasts.