"I have nothing to add to that," he said. "I believe the Governor made her wishes quite clear. We will proceed with the funeral now."
They proceeded. Six pallbearers, including Generals Jackson and Zoloft, picked up her casket and began to carry it. They took it through the streets, a huge crowd surging around them, most of them crying, some uncontrollably. There was very little talking. They went six blocks from the capital until they came to a small industrial building that housed a Walker's Funeral Home and Crematorium. Like most pre-revolutionary businesses on Mars, Walker's had been owned by a corporation and was the largest funeral and cremation service in WestHem with more than twenty-eight percent market share of the "death benefit insured" business. Since the revolution, all of the Walker's had been taken over and run by the fledgling Martian government.
Laura Whiting's casket was carried inside and placed on a tastefully decorated conveyer belt that ran along one wall. Per instructions in her will no Martian flag was draped over it and only one MarsGroup cameraperson was allowed inside to record her final journey.
General Jackson stepped up to the casket and saluted it, tears running freely down his face. "I swear to you, Laura," he said, "that I will do everything in my power to carry out your wishes. I swear to you."
He nodded toward the crematorium technician and a button was pushed. The conveyer belt began to move. The casket was pulled inside a slot in the wall, into the cremation chamber. The combustion chamber closed. Another button was pushed. A high intensity laser flooded the chamber, vaporizing the cellulose casket in an instant, leaving Laura Whiting's naked body exposed. She was burned to nothing but a small pile of ash in less than ten minutes. These ashes would be removed and placed in an urn. Per instructions by Laura herself in her will, the urn would be placed on display in the lobby of the Martian Capitol Building "for as long as Mars remains free".
Jack Strough tried his best. He was on MarsGroup within an hour of Laura's funeral, explaining to the populace that Whiting's ideas, while admirable, were simply not feasible in the real world. "There is a precedent for the sort of economic system she is suggesting," he said. "It's called communism and it has already been proven not to work."
He expanded upon this thought over the next twenty-four hours but not many people were listening to him anymore. Not the common Martians, not the former vermin, not the current vermin, and not the working class that he'd counted as his best allies just days before. MarsGroup computers were now recording less than five percent of prospective viewers whenever he came on. Diane Nguyen, responding to a virulent stream of angry emails, was even forced to stop airing his commercials. What did show record levels, on the other hand, were downloads of the Laura Whiting video file. An incredible forty-nine million of them were requested in the hours after the funeral. For the first time in more than sixty years the Martian Internet actually slowed to a crawl it was so clogged with downloads.
January 10th arrived — the second Tuesday. Martian voter turnout was 98.7 percent. The measure for continued autonomy received 88.9 percent of the vote.
Mars would remain free.
Author's note
This has been an epic novel that has taken me more than seven years from the time I typed the first words to the time I typed the two words below this "Author's note". Based on the emails I have received, most of you have enjoyed my efforts. I thank you for taking the time to let me know that. I've tried to respond to as many of you as I could but to those of you I didn't respond to, please accept my apologies and know that even if I don't respond, I do personally read each and every email and I appreciate them all.
My special thanks to the dozens of people who found my minor grammatical, spelling, punctuation, and continuity errors in each chapter and took the time to email them to me (particularly you, Roxanne — I hope you're feeling well today). Again, I did not always have the time to thank you individually but I did appreciate the help.
Most of all, I'd like to thank my wife for putting up with my constant clattering at the keyboard while she was trying to sleep, for her understanding of my hobby, and for giving me the time I need to write, particularly this last month as I've frantically increased the pace toward the end.
My tale is told now. I have no plans at the moment to re-visit the Greenies universe as I intend to begin work on Intemperance II with my next writing session. There is, however, at least one more novel's worth of story between the end of Greenies and the beginning of A Perfect World. There is also an infinite amount of novels after the end of A Perfect World. There's a good chance I will feel compelled to return to this universe one day.
Peace to all,
Al Steiner
August 28, 2006