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Okay, PlayOn fans, you know that around here we like to present the absolute best quality audio fiction possible. And the great thing about living and breathing this medium is that we tend to keep an eye out for other shows that we think are doing cool and interesting things in the space. One of those shows is a podcast called Curious Matter Anthology.
Curious Matter is a multi-award winning podcast that adapts stories from the world's best sci-fi and horror writers into fully immersive audio movies. Let your ears take you on an adventure into some of the most imaginative minds in the literary universe. Today, I'm super excited to present one of my favorite episodes of theirs.
Go ahead and give it a listen, and then give it a follow on whatever app you get your podcasts from. Go to CuriousMatterPodcast.com to learn more. And now, enjoy the show. Hi, my name is Jonathan Pesa and welcome to Curious Matter Anthology. We have an unbelievable season three in store for all you listeners out there. We are changing things up a little this year, and instead of several stories, we are presenting a single epic tale.
Over the next 16 weeks, we will be taking you to the red sands of Mars, 150 years in humanity's future for the Exile. It's hard to believe this all started almost five years ago, alone in a basement. Thank you to each and every fan out there that has supported us over the years and to all our amazing Kickstarter backers that have helped bring together one of the most exciting casts in audio fiction.
It's because of you we get to make our biggest season yet. Our team has grown as well. Tiffany Smith is back, not only in the starring role as disgraced ex-Earth federal agent Bryce Gordon, but has jumped in headfirst behind the scenes as a creative producer and partner in crime. Pun thoroughly intended. The Exile is based on the 1953 novel Police Your Planet by Lester Del Rey.
and follows the exploits of Bryce as she is exiled from Earth to the dangerous frontier city of Marsport. The original story was published five years before the founding of NASA, and what initially drew me to this tale was how accurately the planet was presented in the book considering how little we knew about Mars at the time.
Delray's stories were known for their attention to scientific accuracy, and this dark sci-fi noir tale was years ahead of its time in its presentation of the challenges that come with colonizing Mars. But that's not why I chose to adapt it. Because you see, Delray had the insight to understand that scientific accomplishment doesn't inherently make us better.
The greatest endeavor humanity will ever undertake is not the exploration of new worlds or the advancement of fantastic technology. It is the act of collectively facing our demons as we venture out into the stars and deciding to consciously leave them behind. The Exile will be presented in eight main episodes with an additional eight mini-episodes that explore the many colorful characters inhabiting the city of Marsport.
We're very excited to be able to continue our aftershows again this season. Hosted by Sundeep Parikh and Allison Hayslip, make sure to tune in as we go behind the scenes and answer all your questions about the show. Curious Matter Anthology is an immersive audio experience and is best enjoyed via high-quality headphones or speakers. This story contains explicit content that may not be suitable for younger audiences.
and includes adult themes, language, and violence similar to an R-rated film. And now, without further ado, sit back, grab that bowl of popcorn, and enjoy The Exile Part 1, One-Way Ticket. Mars Gateway, this is Icarus 2 requesting entry burn. We hear it loud and clear, Icarus 2. You are clear for a burn drop, marker 2.
as poison rain by our own local troubadour, Suffer City. This is Epidemic Radio, and I am your cure. Rand, as always. Today is going to be a balmy 79 with a low tonight of minus 103. That big dust storm the Syncsats were tracking thankfully turned north out of the Mariner Valley and is safely headed towards Orson Welles. It appears that freight shipments may finally be back on track. Icarus 2 should be dropping its cargo right about now. before slingshotting back towards our former overlords.
whose reformer platform is in stark contrast to the Wayne administration. Please proceed to a customs terminal for processing. Nolan is holding a rally tomorrow night in the District 3 Amphitheater. Should be a party, if you know what I mean. Be safe out there, kiddos. All fruits and vegetables must be reported on Form 11B. Step forward, please. Name and reason for trouble. Bryce Gordon. And I'm not. Really sure how to answer that. Place your arm under the scanner. Hold on right here. Sir?
We have a yellow card. I was told to ask for refugee status in accordance with the charter. Just a tick. Yep, she's a G-man. Big one, too. Solid green by the look of her. Ah, okay. Copy that, son. Ali, processing room three. Over to the left. You're my yellow card, huh? You're a tough-looking customer, aren't you? I guess I am. I'm seeking refugee status in accordance with the charter of Terran colonies. That's a dangerous word around here. Refugee? Colony. This here is a sovereign republic.
We ain't no puppet state like the other dirt balls. Not off to a good start, G-man. I'm sorry. I was informed during deportation you had to accept my application for provisional settlement. I could just as easily let you starve to death here in the terminal. Look, I'm not here to make trouble. Oh, I'm just yakin' on ya. We love refugees. Ah, okay.
I see in your application you were a cop on Earth. Something like that. You planning on getting back into the, uh, trade? You're a big one with grav strength like you. Always looking for bruisers at Marsport City. Could help get you a referral. For a fee, of course. Gonna try and steer clear of all that. You familiar with how things work here? Meaning? Well...
The air, of course, is getting better every year, thanks to the tradesmen and their big machines. But still, you walk outside without a helmet, you're dead right quick. We don't live that luxury life you're used to. Free air. Free water. Everything here has a price. Yeah. I get you. Did you bring your own rig? Yes. I'll need to inspect it.
Suit. And helmet. I was told they're top of the line. Kevlar and Nanoweek. What would an Earther know about good gear? No good this year or I'll have to confiscate it. For your safety, of course. Hold on. Don't make me change my mind about you. You can purchase a new one at the Terminal Depot for a nominal fee. Look, I... If you don't want to buy one, what am I going to do? Hmm.
Welcome to Mars. I trust it will be all you hoped for and more. Thanks, I guess. One more question, though. The yellow card. What'd you have to do to piss off a whole planet? That is the question I've been asking myself for the last six weeks. Since the tribunal found me guilty and stripped me of the only home I'd ever known.
question i asked on the cramped three-week journey in that tin can strapped to an ion engine that pushed me like a pond 150 million miles across the solar system and the answer i've come to is that the most dangerous thing in this universe is... truth. One minute to New Kidron. That's me. Getting off here. You sure? This is a pretty rough world. Even MPF don't have the balls to patrol here. Thanks. I'll be alright. Not that I'm one of those assholes with an angel complex. I just...
Happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when a toxic drop of information fell into my lap and started burrowing into me. The kind of information that can spark revolutions, you know. What was I to do? I caught it like the flu. And it tore my life apart. And now? Now I'm here an ex-boxer, ex-cop, ex-mother, ex-citizen of Earth, stuck. On a mud ball the color of dried blood. Or even the dust is trying to kill me. Suit pressure nominal. Pottery at 78%. Warning.
Suit made as required. Please replace emergency seals at the soonest convenience. The depot clerk at the terminal didn't even have the shame to flinch when they tried to sell me back my own pressure suit and helmet at ten times the price I paid on Earth. With no choice, and nowhere near the scratch. I bought a used local rig. Cheap plastic. With a helmet that smelled of stale sweat. It might not be pretty, but...
It would keep me alive. This is you then, Miss. Thank you. Airlock Field is now safe to exit the transport. Kinross had had a dome at some point. A giant vinyl fabric and Kevlar bubble like the ones dotting the rest of Marsport. Little more than giant balloons huddle loft by the pressure differential created by the air inside. The giant concrete balustrades that had once held it in place were now only a graffiti-covered Stonehenge-like ruin, ringing the dilapidated neighborhood.
I get you wherever you need to go save, Ale. Fifteen shits per deal, Lily. I'm good. And cannot save for nobody these days. Tell you what. The knife on my belt keeps the hungry, sunken eyes in their patched disposable rigs at bay. This is the kind of place no one cares about. Not the cops. Not the gov.
Not even enough to provide these poor sods here life-giving air. No one looks too close at the things that go on inside the hermetically sealed buildings of New Kinross. And that suits me just fine. This the chicken coop? I'm looking for Mother Cory. Hottle off and try your game somewhere else, kid. Lan Gordon told me to find Mother Cory if I ever ended up in Marsport. Assuming that's you.
Here's where I can see. What's about to be a really bad day? Take that knife out of sheath and toss it over. Plan's been a corpse three saws. Gov pinned him with multiple homicide and made him take a long walk. with no rig, so I doubt he's been saying anything to anyone about me. Goddamn. My name is Bryce Gordon. I just got off the transport from the terminal. It's like you're twins.
We were. You can lower the pepper gun, Joe. Okay, okay. How if you need me? In that rig, I took you for a local juicer. Or a stick-up kid. The immigration agent. worked me pretty good. The graft is always greener. Welcome to Mars. I take it you need a place to flop. Among other things. Follow me, sweetness. Let's see if we can get you taken care of only as Mother Cory can.
The coop is bare bones, but it's safe. I have arrangements with the local crews and we don't see much of the MPF here. Nobody bothers my tenants or they answer for it. You can buy water from me or my grandson, Shell, downstairs. Your grandson? Mother breathes like the best of them. Kids got a head full of regolith, but what can you do? Blood is blood, right?
Cleaning sand is free. It comes from the tank on the roof. The head is shared, of course. Reclaimer in the basement recycles everything. And we waste nothing on Mars. Sounds good. You're pissing shit. It all comes here. All of it. That's the deal. I get exclusive rights to your bio-waste. Gotcha? And how do I even... Pseudo-store your urine. Just dump it here. And the...other stuff? Oh, that's up to you, baby. This is you, 301. Fuck off! What the hell, Cory?
It's eviction day, motherfuckers. We pay rent! Out! Take care of the other one for me, would you, hun? I'm sorry about this. I didn't say kill the poor man. Sorry? Bitches all hulked out on earth strength. Jesus. Get with the show, doll. 37% earth gravity makes you Superman. You get it? I mean, I knew that I was going to be stronger. Wow. Goddamn demon. What does that even mean? 1G demon. Hey, flopper, you dead? I don't think so. Grab your friend here.
If you can find someone else to share with, you can stay. Otherwise, cheers. Oh, okay. Come on, man. Get up. Okay. Get settled in. Strength like that, it could find you work if you want it. Thought I'd try my hand at the tables. Always cleaned up on Earth, and I hear the security in the dens is less than cutting edge. I brought a little help with the odds. Oh, snuck a scrambler up, huh?
I've got plans. I just need a local fixer who knows the lay. A lady after my own heart. My taste is 15% here on. And that's the friends and family discount. Also... You let me know if you decide to hawk that gadget before you offload it. Call it right of first refusal. Only fair for your dear mother, right? Understood. I don't plan on being here long, though.
You got somewhere else to be? Just need to earn enough to buy my way out of this mess. Got a thing for the blue marble, huh? Something like that. Someone more like it. But that's no concern of mine, baby. Word of warning, though. There's an order to things here. Don't get Dad playing with fire and all that. I'm a big girl. Get some rest. You look like the devil dragged you in. Thank you, Mother Cory. Mama's got you.
And sorry about your brother. He was a good kid. Did he do what they say? Does it matter? To me. Yeah. He said that about you. Mother Cory was wrong. Dead wrong. The only thing that mattered to me was getting off this rock. When you've worked the beats I have, you understand that every society has a shadow. An underworld working in the cracks and crevices of the system. Turns out the magic number to fake my own death and buy myself a new life back on Earth was exactly one nil.
And by three months into my stay, I was on track to pull it off, too. I just needed one last score. Mars. Humanity's great endeavor. A 300-year mission to turn a barren world into a new Eden. As if it wasn't our hands that had almost destroyed the original. How would we know anything about Eden? A century and a half since the... first of the great skyscraper-like terraforming machines had landed on the red soil, Mars had come to symbolize something else. Greed.
Disconfirm your selections. Let it ride. Everything on Diamond Lagrange 4. No more bets. The orbit is now locked. Yeah, I've been watching her for the last few. Let's go for one more. Move everything to the field. I'm feeling lucky. Are you sure? The odds of successfully navigating the asteroid field are approximately 3,720 to 1. Let's move this along. Somewhere else to be.
She must be hacking the table somehow. See how she stands? She's a Jimin definitely. Maybe X-Nil. Could be on leave. The last Darren Marines pulled out more than a year ago. These ones are tourists trying to pull a fast one and then rock hop. How do you want to handle it? The asteroid field win. What a streak. And the lady wins again.
Get me out. Hurry up. You know what? Grab Dom and do others. I want to talk to her first. After that, make it clean. Call the damn badges. They'll make her disappear. 421 chips have been added to your chip. Thank you for playing with us. Come again soon. Please, we need you to come. Look, fellas. I'm taking my winnings and going. No fuss, no muss. All right? Oh, look at you. You have some real each. I'll give you that. You're asking yourself why I am so...
Lucky. It's a gift. I just am. But I respect that you need to put on your little show. I'll even let you escort me out if it makes you feel better. Now tell me, what makes you think you can walk into my place and rub me in blind daylight? Not to correct you, but it's 3 a.m. You should really go outside sometime. Your complexion is looking, uh, a little pale.
Nobody steals from Fatia Markov. If that's how you want to play it, I can just tell all these fine people how you rig your games. I'm sure they'd want to know. That's the one thing I like about Mars. Now. How about we take a walk, Fatia? Get her out behind me. Tell them to get lost. Don't make this mess. Stay back. Get back. That's better. Later, fellas. It's been fun. Thanks for the dance, Fatia.
Officers, this was all just a little snaffin. I'm sure we can find a reasonable and lucrative solution. Now what took you so long? Kill this Godzilla. Okay, so I guess you already made a deal. I just want to say one. You have five seconds. I'm really glad. Guns and domes don't mix. If I stayed on Mars, most of the benefits of being a G-man would wear off within a couple years, as my muscles atrophied and my circulatory system weakened. But while I'm here, I'm taking full advantage of this shit.
But gaps between buildings flew by as I made my way back to the airlock where I had stowed my helmet. One of the most striking things about Mars is how rudimentary life is here. The last frontier. The effort it takes to keep the 50 million who call Mars home alive is all but exhausting. There's no room for anything else. Every other need beyond air. Sustenance and, of course, maintaining the domes was a luxury that still had to make its way from Earth.
You have to make choices about what stays and what goes when your lifeline is a spaghetti string of space freighters long hauling across the cosmos. No cell towers, no mass transit, no internet. Components for most everything were hard to come by. Then other choices were simply about survival. A stray bullet could travel miles and puncture the skin of every dome in its path. That meant no firearms on Mars. It was a line no one, not even the hardest criminal, was willing to cross.
at 96%. Warning, suit maintenance required. Please replace emergency seals at the soonest convenience. Most of the lights that had once lined the streets between domes had either burnt out or been stolen for parts. That darkness was usually not a problem. But in the storm of dust and regolith, I could barely see ten feet in front of me. It was almost like a ghost materializing out of thin air.
when i first caught sight of him standing in the middle of the road looks like you're in trouble friend maybe more than you know the face smiling at me through his helmet was young handsome Maybe too handsome. And with a smile cockier than a car salesman. You have two seconds before I go around you or through you. The choice is yours.
His two long knives seemed to dance into his hands like an Old West gunslinger drawing down. Then just as quickly, they disappeared back into their sheaths. I get your own safe. Guaranteed. How much? Call it three. All right. Name's Izzy. Honest Izzy. Okay. Honest Izzy. We're headed to... You can, Ross. I know. You might want to draw that blade, ma'am. Seven of them appeared out of the storm all at once, armed to the teeth with clubs, bats, and knives.
I recognized their leader at once, Mother Cory's grandson. Seven against two, if Izzy was indeed honest, weren't the worst odds. Shell, I promise you are going to be the first to drop. Are you still with me? By your side, boss. Good night, Bryce. They all came at once. Except for Shell. who disappeared into the storm. There were far more than seven, but how many was impossible to know as they darted in and out of my limited field of vision.
One after another, they came in. One after another, I beat them back, cutting away at cheap plastic and smashing in the thinplex. Integrity compromise. Engaging emergency field. The reason so many carried knives for self-defense is that one good puncture to your suit and you were on a ticking clock. The incoming attacks stopped. The enemy knew.
It was over and just watched as the inevitable happened. I cursed myself for my own stupidity as everything went red. With every ounce of strength I had left, I tried. And all just went black. Relax, baby. You're alive. You... No, Bryce. I had nothing to do with it. This shit made the play on his own. The kid patched you and brought you to me. I keep an epibooster on hand. Even so, it was touch and go for a minute there. You've been out for 18 hours.
Glad to see you came through it, boss. The money? They took it off you. I couldn't stop them. I'll get you your fee. I just need to get to my room. I didn't keep our deal. Wouldn't be honest. Kid has three broken ribs. I'm alive. At home. You did your job. I'm afraid there's more. Shell and two of the shits he runs with broke into your room. Mustache. Under the floor. They got it all. I was asleep upstairs.
shell barred my door from the outside and by the time i busted through they were gone i know he's your grandson but i am gonna find him and burn him alive no you're not tell her You got bigger problems. The heavy whose parlor you hit last night ain't no petty player. She's Big Seven. Largest cartel on Mars. Not top of the pyramid, but high enough to call a hit.
Shiny enough that every dirtbag and badge alike will be coming for you. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Normally, the play would be a seat on a freighter. What are my other options? You could nullify the hit. Pay the police the joint up rate plus your bounty. Put on a badge and it becomes a shield against all of this. But then the MPF owns you. What's the bounty? Three mil.
I mean, I could scratch that together if I had the time. Shell's crew knows where you are. They'll sell that info for a finder's fee. The gangs know not to make a play on my turf. The NPF, though? They'll be coming. Lend me the money. I like you, but honey, please. What other option do I have? What about another city? I could possibly get you to OC or Shaubatana. Olympus City is the safer bet. I have a shipment heading out in two days. The question is how to get you out of the coop.
Probably already watching this place. Not probably. But hear this, Lady Bird. I do this, and you work for me and me alone from here on. Turns out, New Kinross had an interesting secret. It was one of the very first domes on Mars. It had been built directly above the original colony. The first pioneers to brave the new world that built their homes safely beneath the surface in the massive inner lava tubes.
crisscrossed the planet. Mother set up in the coop here entirely because it still had access to the network through the sub-basement. A smuggler's paradise. Only this time, I was the one being smuggled 100 meters below the city. Seismic activity from the terraforming machines had forced those early settlers above ground, but it was all still here. Perfectly preserved. Frozen in time beneath the decades of dust. Hello? A ghost town. Hello? And as I followed the paths mother's crew used,
I felt like a specter floating lost through some ethereal half-world. A shadow of the person I once was. The hatch in the outskirts where Mother's contact would be waiting to see me safely out of Marsport was exactly where she said it would be. The domes were more than a mile to the west, and as the vast Martian landscape stretched out before me, I couldn't help but smile. It's a funny thing how hope works. It keeps us going just long enough to fall into the next trap.
think it would be that simple to escape the long arm of destiny. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Gordon. I hope you enjoyed this installment of The Exile. 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 effing funny. 7 p.m. Pacific Time on the Tuesdays, each new main episode airs. For information about the After Show, merch, and a whole lot more, check us out online at cmanthology.com.
You can also connect with us on Facebook and Instagram under the handle at CM Anthology. Tonight's show starred Tiffany Smith as Bryce Gordon and featured the voices of Malcolm Barrett as Honest Izzy, Eugene Byrd as Shel Corey, Phil Lamar as the Station Chief. Trace Lissette as Mother Cory. Sandeep Parikh as Rand. Steven Weston as Skagg. Milana Veintrub as Fatia Markov. Amy Vorpal as Three.
with additional voices by Jonathan Adelman, Jason Ervin, Philip Gray, Matt Hoban, Tien Nguyen, Blythe Renee, and Melissa Starr. This episode was written, designed, and edited by me, your host, Jonathan Pezza. Voice directing by Tiffany Smith and Jonathan Pesa. The Exile was made possible by the amazing support of our Kickstarter backers. Executive produced by Scott Pesa and Dan Evans.
Co-executive produced by Richard J. Pesa, Patrick Lepolato, and Derek A. Hughes. It was produced by Jonathan Pesa, Tiffany Smith, and Sandeep Parikh. And co-produced by Ali Masiecki and Jack Bowman. Assistant editing by Mohamed Moiz Riaz and Francis Pesa. Original score composed by Jonathan Pesa, with additional tracks provided by Epidemic Sound and featuring the musical talents of...
Tori Wolf, Suffer City, Experia, and Sight of Wonders. 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 F'n Funny Productions. Copyright Knightsville Workshop 2024. All rights reserved. Make sure to tune in next week for our very first mini-sode titled, Message in a Bottle.
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