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Anaea Lay: Hiding on the Red Sands of Mars
--- Snip ---
When I was five, I woke screaming from a nightmare. I'd been working with the revolutionaries, and we were being chased by splat-drones. Each of my companions, who looked an awful lot like the corn husk dolls I'd played with that afternoon, were blown to bits around me as I watched. Then, with a grinding rumble that I could still feel in my chest even after I woke up, it zoomed at me.
"They don't rumble," Mom said as she stroked my hair.
"What do they sound like?"
She ignored my question. --- Snip ---
When I was five, I woke screaming from a nightmare. I'd been working with the revolutionaries, and we were being chased by splat-drones. Each of my companions, who looked an awful lot like the corn husk dolls I'd played with that afternoon, were blown to bits around me as I watched. Then, with a grinding rumble that I could still feel in my chest even after I woke up, it zoomed at me.
"They don't rumble," Mom said as she stroked my hair.
"What do they sound like?"
She ignored my question. --- Snip ---
http://www.strangehorizons.com/2013/20130513/mars-f.shtml
The child of a revolution(ary) learning about the past, and growing up into the future. And the shape of the 'revolution' is frighteningly ambiguously believably familiar...
