New Mars

A short story by Stuart Atkinson. In 2062, a young girl living on Mars writes to her father about her new job with Mars Heritage, a group which preserves and protects spaceprobes sent from Earth in the decades before. Part of the Mars Tales issue.

SUBJECT: Hi dad!

FROM: CatR@Tharsisbase.Ares.Plan

TO: KbbTh@Ops.McAuliffe.InPlan

Hi Dad! xxx

THANK YOU so much for your latest letter! It arrived a few days ago, but this is the first chance I’ve had to write back - school, helping mom out, you know? I found it during my last mailcheck before bed that night, and printed it out so I could read it first thing the next morning. I *know* I promised you I’d go to sleep when mom said, and I tried Dad, really I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep knowing it was right there beside my lamp, so just after midnight I read it

… and I don’t know how many times I’ve read it since then, to be honest, but I’m sure I’ve reached double figures by now, because every time I read it - or any of your letters - it’s as if I’m there with you on the McAuliffe, Dad, looking out of that big observation blister you spend so much time in, watching Jupiter growing bigger and bigger in the sky. It must look beautiful by now!

Can you see Europa yet, Dad? I’m still amazed when I think that you’ll actually be landing on it this time next year! Everyone here is so excited about you and the others setting up a base on the iceflows to protect the life there, no-one can talk about anything else! (By the way, Kyra in hydroponics made me promise to ask you if you’d seen the Climate Observer probe go by yet, and to make sure you worked in klicks and not miles. Mean anything to you?)

I’m sorry my last letter was rather sad, but I guessed you’d want someone you knew to tell you about the accident down in Melas, rather than just hear it on the news. People are still very shocked by it. Even before those four geologists were killed there were too many graves in Marineris, but I’m sure there’ll be many more before the whole canyon system is mapped-out. Anyway, I’ll try to make this letter a little happier, by telling you what I’ve been doing recently. In fact , I have something to tell you, something important which I was going to tell you sooner, honestly, but it never seemed like the right time. But now you’re half-way to Jupiter I figure it’s as good a time as any - and I’m safe enough - to tell you. I’ve joined Mars Heritage.

Now don’t get mad. I know you don’t “believe” in it, never have, but you’re wrong about them. Mars Heritage isn’t a political organization at all. It’s just a volunteer group that wants to prevent damage to the landscape, and stop priceless artifacts being damaged or destroyed by the weather, and/or unscrupulous collectors. You mustn’t worry, I haven’t joined RedMars! (And I’m not planning to, before you ask. I wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack as you pass Ganymede… but Dad, some of the terraforming projects the UN is proposing are so destructive, so… Russellian that many people, not just RedMars, are against them.)

Besides, you should be pleased, you’re the one who sat me down beside Sojourner and told me that probes like it are pieces of Mars’ history which should be preserved for future generation! Mars Heritage is just acknowledging that after half a century of exploration there are dozens of spacecraft - landers, rovers and spaceprobes - scattered across Mars, here, there and everywhere. In the future, when there are more people living here they’ll all be big tourist attractions, maybe even incorporated into big-budget museums or visitor centers, complete with cafes, gift shops, baby changing rooms, the works. But for now they’re just Out There, on their own, and someone has to protect them, just as someone has to preserve the landscape too, or the most beautiful places on Mars will disappear, even before your beloved terraforming tears the guts out of the planet … That’s why I joined them, and that’s why I’ve been made an Assistant on a field team.

Two months ago I was “given” to Mars Heritage Team V1, which is primarily responsible for looking after the Viking 1 lander, which touched down in 1976 (almost a century ago! Boy, are *we* planning a big party to mark the centenary of the landing!). My team’s job is to travel out to the probe once every couple of months and make sure everything’s okay there: clean the dust off it, make sure it looks neat and tidy; brush away the footprints of any visitors it’s had since the last service call, etc. My first visit was … well, no, I’ll tell you about that in a while. Instead I’ll tell you a little about my fellow squad members.

My Squad Leader is Andrea, an engineer, and to look at her you’d never believe she could be as passionate and fiery as she is: she’s a short, very slender young woman, just 24, with pale skin, eyes like lasers and a waterfall of straight, dark hair which tumbles over her shoulders and falls halfway down her back. All the men turn into bumbling, dribbling idiots when she walks by, it’s very funny to watch… :-)

Her “second in command” is Ben, a tall (being cruel, you’d call him ‘gangly!’) biologist, five years older than Andrea. He’s a strange one, Ben: intense and focussed one minute, distracted and vague the next, which is why he’s known to all of us - affectionately - as “The Mad Scientist.”

Faye is … well, she’s just Faye! She’s my best friend on the team, and as our official Archivist (every team has one) is responsible for documenting and recording each probe the Team visits, its surroundings and location, and any work a Heritage team carries out on it. Faye’s almost the exact opposite of Andrea - tall, with a chaotic mane of blonde hair, and - I’m told - hypnotizing, deep eyes. She’s quiet, reflective, always calm (*very* unlike Andrea!) and finds great satisfaction in her job. When we’re out in the field Faye’s always weighed down by cameras and holo gear, and when she gets back to Base she produces pictures of what she’s seen that day. That’s not unusual; many other Archivists do the same, but what is unusual is that Faye uses a brush and actually *paints* what she’s seen instead of recreating it inside a computer. She’s very old-fashioned like that, one of the reasons why I love her so much.

… and now there’s me, the squad tag-along! If you’re worried about it taking over my life, don’t be. I knew when I applied that if I was accepted I wouldn’t be able to go out on every visit, cause of schoolwork and family stuff, and Andrea emailed me and told me it would be okay for me to just join them when I could, and act like a general purpose assistant, fetching and carrying, helping whoever needed help. But of course, being your daughter I’ve done a lot more than that, more than I ever dared dream I would… :-)

So, if your pulse rate has dropped I’d like to tell you all about my latest trip - my first visit to Viking. Okay, so it’s not as exciting or as grand as flying to Jupiter, but I had fun! Instead of writing it all out again , I’ll paste in my audio-journal entries from the past couple of days. You see, I *told* you I’d use it if you bought me it! I try and record something in it every day. When I heard I was going on a trip I decided to record everything for you, to give you something to read while you’re out there in space, millions of klicks away from us here on Mars. And it was like having you here to talk to.

Okay, Dad, if you can bear to tear your eyes away from Jupiter, let me bring back to Mars… even if it’s only for a while…

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/012

Hi Dad… hope this is recording clearly, my wrist/com’s making some very unusual buzzing sounds… I’ll assume it’s working.

Well. Just goes to show, you never know what’s around the corner. I just got home from a lousier-than-lousy day at school to find great news waiting for me. My new Team Leader Andrea called; apparently she’s heard, from one of her “sources” (I never ask for details!) that a group of Vultures (that’s what we call the people who steal pieces off probes) has been seen out there, and she’s understandably very worried about Vik being damaged. She’s got permission from MH to rush out there ASAP and check on it as soon as she can. Ben and Faye are available tomorrow… and she wants me to go too!

I asked mom and she said it was okay, as long as I didn’t miss any school, so this time tomorrow - after another dead day at school, I’m sure - I’ll be heading north with the Crazy Gang for the first time! Can’t wait!!

Off to bed now but not much point; I know I won’t sleep tonight!!

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/013

Hi Dad, I’m recording this in the rover now, heading north…

Luck was with me today Dad, (don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it, but hey, gift horse… mouth… you know?) because school closed early to let the service team take a look at that air filtration unit which has been on and off like a light switch recently. So, I rushed home, flashed Andrea an “I’m coming!” glyph and raced out with my bag over my shoulder.

Everyone was gathered by the rover already, waiting for me, fully kitted-out, and they cheered and clapped as I ran into the bay. Didn’t realize how much I’d missed them until Ben picked me up and lifted me into the rover and Faye told him to be careful with me. If I had a big sister I’d want her to be like Faye. Andrea, obviously impatient to get going, growled at us all to sit down and be quiet, but I knew she was as excited as the rest of us at the prospect of escaping into the Outback. I sat in the seat behind her, on Faye’s right, and the moment I strapped myself in Andrea gunned the engine and we lurched out of the rover bay into the afternoon sunlight. Next stop Viking!

We were all impatient to get there, but not even Andrea can speed up time, and her own personal best time from Base to Vik is two and a half hours (which the rest of the team paid for with aching bones and throbbing heads apparently!), so we settled down and made ourselves busy. We all have our own little routines. Ben buried himself in his latest science journal, occasionally commenting on the contents with either an approving “hmmm..?” or a disapproving “huh!”. We left him to it. Faye opened up her black zipper case and quietly handed me her latest piece of work for inspection… and it was beautiful! It was a pen and ink sketch of the two of us kneeling down beside the Polar Lander, our faces reflected in one of its flat panels as we hugged each other. “Like sisters…” she said to me, smiling. I think I managed not to cry. Just. Andrea looked at it over her shoulder and nodded, which is like a deafening cheer of approval from anyone else… :-)

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/014

Well, here we are! We’ve just reached the landing site, and the Sun is starting to drop down towards the horizon, and everything is turning that beautiful warm orange color that Faye captures in her paintings so perfectly. Andrea just rolled us to a stop in the rover park - wait, I should really explain the layout of the site to you here, it’ll make more sense…

I want you to imagine you are here in the rover beside me as we pulled up at the end of our journey. If you look out of the windows now you won’t be able to see the Viking lander because the rover has stopped in an area marked out specifically for rover parking, twenty minutes walk away from the probe itself. That way the actual landing site is disturbed as little as possible. No, all you can see are orange, red and yellow/black rocks scattered across the ground all around you, on all sides, stretching off to an uneven horizon marked by distant hills and crater rims. The sky is a warm caramel color, and the Sun is a golden button slowly sliding down the western sky towards the far hills. It’s beautiful here Dad. I’ll have to show you around when you get home. Hmmm… me showing *you* around somewhere… imagine that… :-)

Right in front of you, visible through the main windows, is a U-shaped building, constructed out of plastic and prefab but colored to blend in with the surrounding desert. This is the so-called “Visitor Center”, and because the open end is facing you, you can see how it is really just a collection of 2D pictures and 3D holos, set into a permanent structure for visitors to look at before trekking out to the probe itself. Some of Faye’s work is in there too. If I tell you it’s very good you’ll think I’m biased. But it is.. :-)

Got the picture? Good. :-) I have to get into my suit now, Dad. More later. Love you!

Cati xxx

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/015

Standing out on the desert floor now Dad. Heart’s beating so loud you can probably hear it out there…

We all pulled on our suits and helmets and bundled out of the airlock and onto the rocky ground. The Sun was still a good couple of hours away from setting, so there was more than enough light for us to see by, but it was still low enough to cast long, long shadows behind us as we unloaded our equipment from the rover; Ben awkwardly man-handled his cleaning rig out of its stowage bay, while Andrea, efficient as ever, unpacked her electronics package with a minimum of fuss and effort. Faye’s cameras were all stowed away in a compartment to the rover’s rear, and she took them out slowly, checking each one in turn before throwing her famous “Big Bag’s” strap over her shoulder and patting it twice for luck. As usual she carefully handed me the portable satellite broadcasting rig which she uses to beam real-time pictures back to Base, and I hoisted the oversized umbrella over my shoulder just as carefully.

It was then that Faye told Andrea that she needed to go to the VC (”Visitor Center”, remember?) to place a new work there. Ben and I froze on the spot, expecting Andrea to explode. But to our surprise she told Faye it was okay, as long as she hurried. Gesturing for me to follow her, Faye stepped out of the rover’s ebony shadow and loped off in the direction of the VC. I followed, being careful not to let the satellite gear bounce on my shoulder. When we got to the VC and stepped inside, Faye scanned the walls for a free spot, found one, and reached into her thigh pouch. She pulled out what I thought was the sketch she’d showed me earlier, the one of the two of us, and carefully slotted it into the clear plastic mount set into the wall. It looked great there, and I was so proud to be up on ‘her’ wall, with her, that I thought I was going to burst! But I felt a little sad too, because I’d really wanted to be able to see that picture more often. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, as if reading my thoughts, “this is only a copy… the original is back in the rover, for you to keep…” That’s Faye for you. Told you, I love her to bits. Can’t wait for you to meet her when you get back, Mom won’t mind. Not too sure she’d approve of you meeting Andrea though… ;-)

We have to get moving now, I’ll record more at the probe itself. Bye!

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/016

I’m recording this while things are quiet… I’m right by the probe now, Dad, hunched over around the bank trying to look busy… if I get caught I’ll be in trouble, so I hope you appreciate the risk I’m taking for you!

Well, where was I? Oh yes, Faye and I emerged from the VC to find the others already heading off towards the landing site, twin white blobs bounding away towards the horizon, so we set off after them in pursuit, taking giant kangaroo hops across the stony ground. It took us a few minutes to catch up, but eventually Faye and I were bounding alongside Andrea and Ben, our team back up to full strength.

Another few minutes of leaping and landing, leaping and landing, and I caught my first glimpse of Viking. I’d seen it hundreds of times before, but only in holos or on old 2D photos. Suddenly I was there, within sight of the Real Thing. Faye touched my shoulder lightly, and told me she knew how I felt, every time she sees it is like the first time. Oh Dad, it looked so beautiful! Against the darkening desert it shone like a patch of white snow, bright and clean and shining, but as I got closer it started to take on shape and form and detail, until I could almost convince myself that the scientists were wrong, Mars *does* have life, and I was looking right at it - a giant white insect, with twig-like limbs supporting a bulbous white body. My heart just leapt at that point. Sappy, I know, but true. Blame my parents for bringing me up on a diet of sad movies… ;-)

More leaping, more landing, and I began to see it for what it is: a machine, with legs, a single skeletal arm, a large, round satellite dish and spherical fuel tanks. A pair of upright cylindrical electronic cameras protrude from its upper surface like the eye stalks of a strange Martian animal… so, no, Viking isn’t an insect, it’s a robot. A primitive, historic robot, but a robot nonetheless.

Then I noticed a cloud had formed above us, a glowing, copper-colored curl in the butterscotch sky, doomed to a short but beautiful life, (Faye calls such clouds “Martian butterflies”), and I was so busy staring at it that I lost track of everyone else, and when the cloud finally wisped away it took me a few moments to locate the others - and saw Andrea heading straight for the probe, leaving Faye, Ben and myself standing rooted to the spot like statues. When we realized she was almost falling over herself in her rush to reach it we all knew that something was wrong. I could feel it. Andrea never just shot off like that. Faye, Ben and I followed her, quickly -

Halfway to the probe Andrea suddenly broke her stride, as if her hamstring had snapped, and then ground to a halt within two or three steps, coming to a dead stop in a cloud of cinnamon-colored dust. She’d obviously seen something, but I couldn’t see what. Not yet. It took me another few moments to reach her side, until I could see what she’d seen.

Looking down I saw Andrea’s tiny hands clench into tight, furious fists. “They’ve been here…” I heard her hiss savagely. She was right.

The Vultures had been picking at Viking.

Gotta go, Andrea’s on the war-path. More later!

Cati xxx

– Journal Entry 005/BV1/017

Hi, me again. I’m back in the rover now Dad, trundling home. I’m whispering this because everyone else is asleep - well, except Ben, he’s driving. Andrea and Faye are curled up in the back like kittens, looking like they could sleep for years. Because they’re asleep I can record another entry for you. This will be a long entry though, I’ve a lot to tell you… it’s been quite a day… :-)

Sorry, so tired I lost track of where I was… oh yes, the Vultures. Most of this will be new to you, you’ve been away so long, so I should give you some background.

I was surprised - shocked even - to find that the famous Viking lander stands completely exposed on the Chryse desert. It isn’t fenced in or cordoned-off as I’d expected. In the future it’ll be protected by a force field, or encased in a transparent dome, but for now you can actually walk right up to it, have your photo taken beside it (a popular pastime for Incomers), even touch it. There is *some* protection: a small Mars Heritage information plaque tells visitors there is a “Moral Exclusion Zone” around the lander, and politely asks them to stay at least 50 feet away from the Viking during their visit. Most people, to be fair, honor this request, and usually when we visit the site we see the 50 feet boundary marked out by trails of bootprints.

But there are always some people who just *have* to get closer, and we always find some tracks crossing over the boundary, and bootprints in the red dust right beside the lander: Sometimes a single set, usually a pair, or three sets where people have had group photos taken beside the probe.

And that’s okay, really, we don’t mind that; like any piece of history it naturally interests and excites people. They want to have a photo to show their family and friends! But some people have less honorable reasons for being there and, literally, step over the line. They come away not with photos, but with actual pieces of the probe to take home and put on a shelf, or next to their computer. Trophies. Keepsakes. Some probably think “Oh, they won’t miss a little bit like this”, but the problem is that if ten people each take “a little bit” that adds up to a lot of missing metalwork.

They’re just ignorant. Others are criminals. Professional looters are commissioned by Collectors back on Earth to acquire bits of space history for their private collections. They go for larger pieces. These are the real Vultures. Our enemy. If Andrea ever came across a Vulture during a visit, she’d pull out his or her air-hose without a moment’s hesitation. Truth.

The lander has *some* protection. Three of the boulders scattered around it actually hide miniature cameras which continuously film the probe, forming a triangular surveillance area around the probe, so anyone who strays inside their field of view is recorded. But the cameras are not monitored by anyone, they just record footage for scrutiny at a later date if and when needed, so all someone intent on raiding the probe or damaging the site has to do is obscure the cameras’ vision in some way and they can do whatever they want. All that shows up on the film later is a series of blank frames.

And, would you believe it, Faye told me that sometimes they’ve actually found pieces of cloth beside the camera stones, which people have used to cover their lenses while they did what they had come to do! It’s pathetic, and Andrea storms about it all the time. In an ideal world - Andrea’s World - the site would be protected by motion sensors, laser barriers, things like that. Ben once said, jokingly, that she should plant landmines around it. Andrea said nothing, but I could tell from the gleam in her eye that she was wondering where she could get some… ;-)

Where was I? Oh yes, we’d just reached Vik and found that it had been Vultured. I stood there beside Andrea and could see her shaking with rage, her fists clenched so tightly I expected to see blood dripping out of her glove cuffs and down onto the red dust any moment. There were bootprints everywhere, Dad, and I mean *everywhere*; trails of them, running in and out of the exclusion zone with absolute disregard - more like contempt - for it. Some of the bootprints showed that they had just stood in front of each camera stone to block its view, not even bothering to cover it, while another went about their evil business.

End of history lesson.

So, I stared hard at the little probe, wondering what they had taken, but I couldn’t tell. And I couldn’t ask Andrea, I knew she was struggling to contain her fury and would have turned on me without meaning to, or even knowing she was doing it, so I looked over my shoulder for Faye, seeking guidance from her. She laid her hand on the same shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, then, as if reading my mind again, simply said: “The arm…”

I felt sick then. Ever since I’d been accepted onto VH1 I’d been looking forward - almost to the point of giddiness! - to actually seeing the complete lander with my own eyes. I wanted to see everything, including the shallow trenches dug in the ground in front of the lander, each one long and narrow like it had been drawn with a stick. I knew from history lessons that these had been dug by the lander’s extendable robot arm as the probe collected soil samples and deposited them in its onboard chemistry laboratory, to test them for signs of life. Inconclusively, as it turned out. I’d dreamed of walking to the probe’s side by Andrea, feeling ten feet tall, kneeling down beside the probe and actually looking at the trenches and the robot arm close up. I spent hours looking at holos, webpics and photos, thinking how the robot probe looked so fragile, its legs and arm so spindly, as if a strong gust of wind could snap them clean in two, and my heart had pounded in my chest every time I listened to Faye describing how there were still some traces of dust in the arm’s little scoop, leftovers from its sampling!

Now I was there. And the trenches were still there. But the arm which had made them had gone.

It was an awful moment, for everyone. Looking more closely I could see the other damage the Vultures had caused to the site; for some reason they had found pleasure in kicking great quantities of dust onto the probe, some small rocks too, leaving deep holes and troughs in the ground around it. Thankfully the sample trenches had survived their mindless attack.

Everyone looked at Andrea, wondering how the rage she was feeling inside would manifest itself. When she began to walk forwards, into the exclusion zone, following in the footsteps of the raiders I automatically started to follow her, but Faye’s grip on my shoulder tightened slightly, just enough to tell me to leave our leader to go on alone, so I relaxed and watched Andrea stalk towards the plundered probe in silence.

I wanted to hug her, but felt helpless. She looked so tiny and fragile beneath the huge sky, which by then was starting to display tinges and washes of purple as the Sun dropped lower and lower. I wanted to follow her so badly, Dad, she was hurting so much, but I knew Faye was right; she needed to see for herself just how much damage had been done, and had to release her rage before she could decide what the rest of us had to do. Could do. So I stood there with Faye and Ben, watching, helplessly, as Andrea stood in front of the spaceprobe, as still as a statue, head bowed, like a worshipper before an altar.

As we watched her shoulders sagged, and her tiny body seemed to fold inwards in anger and grief . The desert around us was as still and as silent as a graveyard. Nothing moved. There was no breath of wind, no wafting dust, nothing. Time had stopped; the Universe had frozen solid, with Andrea its icy core. Faye’s hand slipped from my shoulder, leaving it feeling cold, but I knew she had a job to do, and I watched her slowly walk around the probe, taking photos, filming the damage with her holocam, trying not to disturb Andrea’s meditations. I knew she felt awkward, but she was an Archivist, she had a duty to record what had happened. It didn’t matter anyway. Andrea was oblivious to her.

Then she lifted her head, straightened her back, set her shoulders square, and we knew she had come to terms with what had happened. Whatever thoughts or images of vengeance were playing inside her head were her own now, we had a job to do. Hand in hand, Ben and I moved forwards to join her, gesturing to Faye to join us at the lander.

Working together it didn’t take us long to get Vik cleaned up, and each of us set about our tasks with determination. Ben started repairing the damage done to the ground, filling in the holes in the desert floor around the probe with dust from outside the exclusion zone, usually scooped up from behind boulders so as not to leave gaping holes in the surrounding floor, while Andrea carried out a thorough inspection of the lander, checking no other components, fittings or pieces were missing. (She knows Vik’s structures better than its original designers, I think!) Faye wandered in and out of the scene, filming, recording, framing shots, there one minute and gone the next… but all in perfect silence. No-one wanted to talk. It didn’t feel right somehow.

My job was to thoroughly clean the probe’s body, and it took a long time to remove every trace of dust kicked over it by the looters. Usually my work is enjoyable - I’ve dusted-off Pathfinder and its little Sojourner rover. Even the Russian Mars 3 probe, way down there in Hellas, has felt the tickle of my brushes’ hairs! - but this visit was different. Vik was very, very dirty, and it took an age to get it properly clean. You see, what the photos don’t show is that the top of the probe is a chaotic maze of wiring, paneling, boxes, equipment fairings, each one a dust trap; each of the flowershaped gas spectrometer’s metal petals was covered with red fines, and dust had fallen into the funnel of the X ray fluorescence monitor too. Every smooth surface needed brushing clean too - the magnifying mirror, camera color test charts and RTG housings were all thoroughly coated. Even the big dish of the S-band antenna had collected some dust, and needed brushing clear.

I started to worry slightly that I was taking too long, but then Andrea was kneeling down beside me, and studying my work through her visor. “Good job Cati,” she smiled warmly, smoothing her hand over a freshly-cleared panel, then headed off to join the others, leaving me alone with my brushes, blushes and swollen pride.

Soon the probe was the only thing I could see, I lost myself in it completely, became one with it. I reached out, touched my gloved hands to it, brushed my fingertips over the smooth surfaces of its longblind cameras and spherical red, empty fuel tank. I ran my hands down its landing gear struts, feeling the cold, frosted metal, and looked up at the meteorology boom silhouetted against the darkening burgundy sky, imagining it sniffing the frozen Martian air with its electronic nose almost a century earlier, thinking how it must have been a stirring sight to see the probe drifting down from the pink sky on its silk parachute after a six month flight through the cold vacuum of space… landing on the desert with its retro-rockets kicking up billowing clouds of orange and yellow dust -

I snapped back into reality with a start, and looked up to see everyone else had finished their work. I was the last to finish; Ben, Andrea and Faye were bounding across the desert back towards the rover, and I knew I had taken too long to complete my work, maybe even delayed our return. I looked over my shoulder to find the others in a conspiratorial huddle out on the plain. My heart sank! Time had run away from me. The Sun was almost touching the horizon, a golden ball of fire in a sky the color of polished amber, and I knew I had to get back… but… had I done enough? I rocked back on my heels to examine my handiwork. It looked okay, but it was hard to tell from up close, so I clambered back to my feet with the intention of taking just a couple of gentle hops away from the probe and looking at it from there -

Faye’s voice broke through the silence of the deepening desert twilight, calling me back to them urgently, so I said my farewells to the probe, turned my back on it and kangarooed over the purple desert to the others.

As I approached them I saw Andrea move away from Ben and Faye, which she usually did when she was preparing to address us as team leader, and alarm bells started ringing. I’d taken too long, I’d delayed our return, I was sure of it. I was in Big Trouble, and already upset by the damage to the probe Andrea was certain to show me no mercy. Mentally I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably never be allowed out with the team again. For the second time that day I felt sick.

I bounded over to Faye instinctively, seeking comfort, and she put out her arms, welcoming me into them. But then, instead of hugging me to her she gently spun me around by my shoulders, until my back was pressed against her and I was facing Andrea. She stared at me coldly, silently. My heart was leaping up into my stomach with every beat. I felt like I was facing a firing squad.

“We came here not knowing what to expect, but privately suspecting the worst,” Andrea began, “and whoever did this will be found and punished, I *promise* you that personally.” As she said that her voice was as cold and as sharp as a sword’s steel blade, and I knew she wouldn’t rest until the looters were either charged officially or beaten black and blue, depending on who found them first, the authorities or her. “We’ve repaired what we can, done all we can,” she continued, with a hint of a weary sigh, “and the next time we return it’ll be to replace the piece stolen, make Viking whole again…” That made us all smile.

“Look at it now,” Andrea said proudly, and turned to look at the probe. We all did the same.

It did look much better, shining a bright yellow in the slanting rays of the setting Sun, as if its metal panels had been covered in gold leaf. I tilted my head back to look up at Faye and she met my gaze with a proud smile. Yes, it said, Mission accomplished.

Then Andrea looked at me, straight *at* me, and as Faye held my shoulders firmly my heart stopped. “But the next time we come our team will have changed,” our engineer leader said solemnly. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming. Andrea spoke the next words slowly, driving each one into my heart like a stake. “We won’t have an assistant with us.”

I wanted to cry, really I did, but I knew it was my own fault. I’d taken too long, spent too much time admiring the probe instead of just cleaning it. I had only myself to blame.

“An assistant’s job is to assist, to just be a helper, an extra pair of hands,” Andrea explained matter of factly, clearly oblivious to my despair, “but Cati doesn’t seem to be able to do that. It’s because she stayed back there so long today that we’re running late. Blame her for sleeping in tomorrow morning cause you’re so tired.” I almost cried out then, and if Faye’s slender but surprisingly strong hands hadn’t held me firmly in place I would have run off into the deep desert and never come back -

“… so I’ve decided, reluctantly, that the next time we come out here we won’t have Cati as an assistant,” Andrea concluded, and I waited for her to shoot the verbal bullet that would end my suffering -

Andrea looked straight into my eyes and fired. “She’ll be a full member of the team.”

Shocked, unable to believe what I thought I had just heard, I could only watch open-mouthed as Andrea bounced towards me, holding a cloth badge in her outstretched hand. It was decorated with the familiar Mars Heritage logo - the red and brown globe of Mars lovingly cupped in a pair of spacesuit-gloved hands - and several words curved around the outside. Smiling, she pressed the badge against my chest just long enough for it to stick in place. I looked down and read off the names embroidered around its outer edge. I read them in sequence:

“Mars Heritage Team V1… Andrea C … Ben K … Faye S… Cati R …”

Cati R. My name was there. *My* name. “Welcome to the team Cati,” Andrea said, touching her hand against the side of my helmet with surprising tenderness. Faye hugged me tight. “You’re one of us now,” she whispered. Ben nodded approvingly, and restricted himself to an affectionate knuckle rap on the top of my helmet before wandering off to attend to his beloved machines. Andrea checked her chrono, grimaced, and told us all to be ready to move out in ten minutes. We really *were* behind schedule, she added with an exaggerated scowl, for my benefit. Then she was gone too, leaving Faye and I standing alone beside the rover.

I moved to begin packing away our remaining gear, but Faye stopped me with a hand on my arm. When I asked her what was wrong she just smiled knowingly, and raised a finger to her lips - or where her lips were behind her visor - to silence any further questions, then gently steered me around by my shoulders until I was facing the west… just in time to see the Sun sinking behind the distant hills. It hung there for a moment like a nuclear fireball filmed in slow motion and played back in reverse, plunging towards the edge of the world. It was beautiful, and I thanked her for making sure I hadn’t missed it.

“Wait… watch…” she purred, and stared into the western sky, now an arch of bright lavender. Knowing to trust her I let out a deep breath and watched. A few stars were coming out, the brightest first, and Venus was a blue-white lantern down near the horizon, following the Sun faithfully as always. The Milky Way was already visible as a misty arch bisecting the sky, mottled with clouds of faint stars in several places along its length, and here and there star clusters, nebulae and galaxies glowed in the darkening sky like tiny smudges of chalk dust. It was beautiful, but I’d seen it before -

“There…!” Faye whispered, and pointed towards a faint star which had just appeared in the violet sky. I wondered why she was so impressed by it, it didn’t appear special in any way - then I realized it was growing brighter. Much brighter. Soon it outshone Venus, and brightened further until it was almost too intense to look at. I looked away and saw a razor-sharp shadow falling on the ground behind me, and smaller shadows behind each and every stone scattered across the vast desert too… it was almost frightening, the “star” was so bright it was as if the Sun had been squeezed into a single, naked point of light..!

Then it started to fade again, growing fainter and fainter until it was almost gone, and eventually it vanished from view, like a celestial candle blown out by a gust of star-breeze.

“What was it?” I asked her, breathless.

“Your father’s ship, the McAuliffe, making a course correction…” she explained, “those nuclear engines light up pretty brightly, don’t they..?” My eyes filled with tears in a moment. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I told her so, hugging her tight and thanking her. “This has been a special day,” she said, looking into my eyes with my helmet held between her hands, “I wanted it to end memorably for you, so you would go home and feel… different…”

“I feel different now,” I told her, truthfully; I felt like I had woken up and found myself in Wonderland.

“Good,” she smiled, “then we’re done here.” She let go of my helmet and took my hand in hers. “Let’s go home.”

And we did, in our rover, and after farewell hugs and promises to meet up the next day we all went our separate ways, Faye to her studio, Ben to his computers and Andrea to give her official report to MH. I went home… and straight to bed.

So, that was my adventure Dad. As I said, not as exciting as flying to Jupiter, but it was *mine*… and I’ve enjoyed sharing it with you.

That night Mom and I went out to watch the new Chinese transport arrive - most spectacular aerobrake so far Dad, it lit up the landscape like the biggest fireball ever! - and when it had vanished over the horizon and everything had gone dark again we turned and headed back to the Settlement. But after a few steps we realized we were walking *behind* our shadows, and turned to see Jupiter rising from behind the bulk of Pavonis, shining like a lantern, almost as bright as that supernova in Leo, back in ‘43. I know you’ve got an even better view of it from the McAuliffe, but I wish you could have been here with us to see it Dad; the frost on the rocks and boulders was sparkling and crackling with Jupiterlight, and I put out my arms and turned round and round and round, feeling like a princess from one of the magic kingdoms you told me fairy tales about when I was younger…

Time I was going, and I know you’ll have a million things to do there. Dad … ? I know you’ve only been gone a year, but it seems so much longer. I miss you so much, and so does Mom. She keeps telling everyone how excited she is for you, and how proud she will be when you land on that little moon and start exploring it, but I know she’s sad really. When I go to bed I can hear her crying. I don’t tell her of course, but I can. I love you very much, you know that… but part of me is still mad at you for leaving us for so long. Whenever you see Mars in your sky, from that observation blister or from the icebergs of Europa, think of us, okay? And remember, you promised me you won’t stay on Europa a day longer than you have to.

You promised me.

All my love,

Catriona xxx

Filed under: Fiction on August 7th, 2001