by Avell Kro
Unfortunately, the descriptions always sounded better than the actual taste of the flavored yeast
and aeroponically grown vegetables. Perhaps she should be more adventurous and grow a larger
variety of edible plants. After the first year, she had settled on soy and green beans, corn, tomatoes,
and chard as the basic vegetables in the greenhouse. For dessert, she grew strawberries,
blueberries and kiwi fruits. Her robot helped in the greenhouse. Dev checked the water quality,
the nutrients and monitored the growth of her plants.
The buzz of the com interrupted her perusal of the menu items. Jasper’s hawk avatar flapped
across the screen. Lucilla stifled a pang of regret that she couldn’t see his face. Of course, she had
met him. He had flown her from the orbiting spaceship down to her station on Mars. But they had
both worn helmets and their faces were distorted by the visor. Cocking her head expectantly, she
hit the switch, and prepared to enjoy his call. The daily exchanges with Phobos station added a
comic touch to her life.
“Phobos to Mars Three. Jasper here with a song for Lucilla, Lu, Lu, cilla, cilla, la, la, la,” he warbled in
falsetto, and then dropped into his normal baritone, “How are you, Lucilla, babe?”
Lucilla was torn between laughter and annoyance at his honeyed words. She cringed inwardly. He
would never call her babe if he saw her scarred face. It was best to ignore his silly song and sweet
words, “Mars Three to Phobos. Hello Jasper, I’m fine. Just the usual. Watching the angels grow.
What’s the news from the moon?”
“Lucilla, I’ve been looking at your sequence data for the angels. The rate of mutation has increased.
Do you have an explanation?”
She hadn’t realized Jasper checked her findings, and said, “We expected the angels to mutate as
they adapted to the conditions on Mars. As long as they keep pumping out oxygen, everyone will
be happy.”
“Okay. Keep an eye on the mutations. We need to know how the angels are changing. Here’s your
Martian weather watch. The sensors show seismic activity to the west of your location. Your
station should be out of range of the quakes. The ice caps are melting earlier than last year. Mack
probably told you already.”
“Mack never explains anything to me. He just said they were melting. I didn’t know anything was
different from last year. I guess the angels will enjoy the fresh water. Any other news?”
“Supplies and new personnel arrive in six months according to my sources at Taxyon Space.”
“New people? Is anyone leaving Mars?” This was the first time Lucilla had heard of anyone else
coming to the planet.
“I’ve no idea. I don’t plan on leaving. Would you leave Mars Three station, Lucilla?”
She shook her head, although he couldn’t see her, “No. I can’t go back to Earth. Talk to you
tomorrow. Bye for now.” She ended their conversation quickly, shuddering in distress at the
thought of returning to the crowded cities of Earth.
When the com shut off, Lucilla stared at the screen for several minutes, pondering Jasper’s news.
She didn’t envy the new recruits. She had endured the year’s voyage from Earth to Mars, alone for
most of the time. Mixing with the crew was discouraged, and she had abandoned any attempt at
friendliness after overhearing the whispers about her multicolored eyeballs. No, she was happier
in her solitary dome on Mars Three.
Next, she prepared her simple meal for the evening, activated the cleansing cycle, and set Dev on
alert to monitor any abnormalities during the night. After one last check of the life systems, it was
time for her to sleep.
Chapter 3
For a change of scenery on the following morning, Lucilla decided to take a long trip in the buggy
and survey the extent of the angel’s spread. For safety, she preferred to wear her helmet with the
emergency air supply, even though the cabin of the buggy was filled with breathable air. She
checked the emergency supplies of water and food rations in the all-terrain buggy. The fuel cel
was ful y charged from the solar panel on the roof. The buggy had plenty of supplies and fuel for a
week, in case of an accident, although she planned only a half day trip. She wanted to measure how
far the angels had spread from the initial injection site outside of her dome.
As an extra safety measure, she tapped a quick message to inform Jasper of her trip outside. Lucilla
climbed into the small cabin on top of the six wheeled buggy and started the engine. The buggy
rocked awkwardly, descending from its raised platform, and rolled across the bare red sand
surrounding the dome. On the left was the greenhouse where she grew vegetables and fruit. As she
passed, Dev clambered out of the airlock, following her instructions to tend to the plants. Beyond
the greenhouse, the yellow and green slime of the angels extended into the distance.
She headed north, away from her dome, moving over the thick clumps of angels. The large wheels
of the buggy squashed a path through the slippery mounds. Fine sand gave way to a rougher
terrain of small stones, and later, slabs of rock protruded above the greenish angel goo. Even
further north, ice-capped mountains loomed on the horizon.
The cabin of the buggy was quiet, apart from the clunk of the wheels climbing over the rocks.
Lucilla was accustomed to silence, unless she played music, or on the rare occasions when she
ventured into the AR sims. She enjoyed the quiet of her own thoughts. Today, she pondered the
angels’ color changes. Just as she had suspected, they had mutated and produced new varieties of
genes unknown to normal cyanobacteria on Earth. She assumed the new genes encoded enzymes
to process different nutrients from the soil and atmosphere. The reason for the color variation was
still a mystery.
The buggy had traveled five kilometers from her dome before the thick coating of angels thinned to
green and yellow threads coiled around the larger rocks. The green tendrils continued for almost
another kilometer, before the rocky ground she traversed became bare of angels. It was the end of
her road trip for today. Lucilla used the robotic arm to gather samples from the angel bacteria at the farthest end of their range. Then, she turned the buggy and detoured over the sand at the edge
of the yellow stains.
An hour from her station, the buggy trundled past the cracked domes from the abortive attempt to
colonize Mars forty years earlier. Lucilla reflected sadly on the lives lost in the early ventures to the
red planet. The people killed in freak accidents, or when personality conflicts exploded into
violence. The hostile environment had changed the long term colonization plans. Instead, the
revolution in engineering bacteria had led to a new strategy to terraform Mars and generate a food
source for the hungry billions on Earth.
She halted the buggy on the bare sand and gazed at the abandoned domes, wondering if there was
anything inside worth salvaging. Probably not, after all these years. Dust devils whirled in the dry
sands in the first sign of rising winds. Lucilla frowned in concern when an icy blast from the north
beat against the windows of the buggy. She cringed, as grit and small stones smashed against the
synglass. The gale strengthened until flying sheets of sand obscured the view. She waited, frozen in
alarm. The
buggy could be damaged, or tipped over by a powerful blast. There was nothing she
could do until the winds ceased. The sandstorm even blocked transmissions from Earth.
After about an hour, the winds calmed, the clouds of sand grains settled to the ground, and at last
she could see through the windows again. Lucilla exhaled in relief. The worst was over. She steered
the buggy towards the safer ground covered by angels for her journey home. The clumps of
bacteria coated the fine sand and hindered erosion by the winds.
Back inside the comfort of her climate-controlled dome, she checked the overnight analysis of
yesterday’s samples. The mutant angels had generated several new proteins. Lucilla checked the
predictions. The angels had produced a putative ion channel, an enzyme and a couple of small
proteins of unknown function. She sighed. Without sufficient data, she couldn’t interpret what the
mutations were doing. Lucilla selected the most evolved bacteria from her samples and set up a
replication test in standard Martian soil and air. The angels grew more slowly under the Martian
conditions than the original cyanobacteria on Earth, and the test would take another day.
She went through the usual routine of com calls to Mars One, Two and Phobos, physical exercise,
and her simple evening meal. The date on the daily news caught her attention. Tomorrow would be
Valentine’s Day. No celebration for her, and it was ten years since she’d had a sweetheart. She
sighed in regret. Now she would never know love. After flipping through the news and
entertainment beamed from Earth, she watched a trideecomedy and then climbed into her
hammock to sleep, anticipating few changes for the next day.
Chapter 4
Bump!
Lucilla woke, blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and lay still with all her senses alert.
It was almost midnight from the time on the wall display. Her hammock swayed gently. No, that
motion was wrong. Why would the hammock move?
She checked her air intake and sat up cautiously, holding onto the sides of the hammock.
Bang!
The whole room shook violently, tossing her onto the floor.
It was a quake, a major quake judging by the rocking of her domed shelter.
Pain stabbed as she bumped her head on a hard object. The interior lighting activated with her
motion. Her body rolled against the interior wall. Lucilla clung to the textured surface and dragged
herself upright with her back to the solid wall.
Fear quickened her breathing as she scanned the room, taking stock of the damage. Most of the
furniture was bolted to the floor. Her chair lay on its side by the desk. The precious com was
fastened securely to the desk top. But, her data chips had fallen off the desk and littered the floor,
and as she stared, a coffee mug rolled to the opposite side of the cabin. The quake had left an
untidy mess strewn over the interior of her dome.
The dome stopped shaking and grew quiet. Lucilla seized advantage of the lull and scrambled to
her feet, staring around. The transparent dome was intact. She rushed to check the monitors. The
station had power and the precious air hadn’t leaked. She waved her hand to dim the lights, and
gazed outside the dome. As always, she admired the beauty of the stars against the blackness
overhead. So many bright stars, many more than were visible through the grimy smog of
overpopulated Earth. The dense pinpricks of stars in the spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy cut
diagonally across the black sky. The moon Phobos was a tiny dot gleaming in the lower east
quadrant of the sky. As she noted the moon’s position, her com beeped to announce an incoming
signal.The hawk icon flashed.
“Phobos to Mars Three. Phobos to Lucilla. Lucilla, are you all right?” Jasper spoke abruptly,
without his normal cheeriness.
She felt a surge of relief mixed with exasperation at the sound of his voice. Jasper often ignored
the formal protocols for communication. Still, she was glad to know he was watching her station.
“Mars Three to Phobos. Lucilla here. Yes, I’m okay. No injuries. I’m assessing the damage from the
quake. Over.”
“Roger, Lucilla. Seismic monitors went crazy. It’s a huge quake. The epicenter is fifty kiloms west of
your dome.”
“The dome’s intact. Minor disruptions inside. I’ll check the outside surface next.”
“Watch out for aftershocks. I have a shuttle, but I’ll be out of contact in one hour when Phobos sets.
Bye, Lucilla. Stay safe.” The hawk vanished from the screen.
No jokes this time from Jasper. She remembered the one occasion four years ago when she had
been in his shuttle. He was the jesting pilot on the awkward ride from the spaceship, while she was
tongue tied from anxiety about her future on Mars and scarcely spoke a word. After four solitary
years, she looked forward to Jasper’s jokes in their daily calls.
Lucilla activated the sensors and gazed outside. The rising sun cast long shadows and warmed the
sandy ground. At first, she saw nothing unusual. The buggy was still fastened on its platform by the
airlock, and the greenhouse dome loomed to her right. Was the greenhouse tilted slightly? She
focused on an irregular bulge at the base of the large dome. Her lenses shifted through the
spectrum until she identified the bulge as a mass of orange angels. While she watched, the sunlight
reached the angels and they rippled into life, flowing slowly around the base of the dome.
Lucilla gasped as the greenhouse dome shifted to one side. Fear froze her for a minute; the plants
were her main source of food. She shook her head. It wasn’t safe to go outside, but she had to know
the worst.
“Dev,” she shouted. Green lights flashed as the robot woke from its rest phase, and its head swiveled
toward her.
Lucilla ordered, “Go outside and collect a sample from the angels at the base of the greenhouse.
When you come back, wait inside the airlock for instructions.”
Dev took the sample tubes and lumbered to the airlock. Lucilla returned to her position, leaning on
the inside wall of the dome and watched the angels on the greenhouse. They crawled around the
metal base, but seemed unable to creep up the transparent dome.
Crack!
The noise penetrated through the audio monitor, and to her horror, the dome tipped sideways
until the upper edge lifted from the ground. Air hissed from the raised lip of the dome. Her plants
would die in the frigid temperature.
The robot moved steadily toward the angels massed around the greenhouse. Dev stepped on a
bubbling mass of angels. The robot halted, then sank lowly onto one leg and toppled over. Red
emergency lights flickered over Dev’s head and faded. The angels crept over the robot, leaving
empty spaces in the shell encasing its body.
Lucilla screamed. Insight smashed into her mind. The mutant angels had eroded the steel supports
on Dev’s legs and the metal mesh of the robot’s armored skin. Their new proteins allowed them to
eat metal. The molecular mechanism was clear in her mind. The ion channels pumped out
hydrogen ions and generated acids to etch the steel, producing iron atoms, which were grabbed by
the other new proteins. Hastily, she pulled on the bulky helmet and grabbed the com, hitting the
symbol to call Phobos.
“Jasper,” she yelled, abandoning any form
alities in the emergency. “The angels are eating the steel
supports. My greenhouse is busted open and they’re creeping closer. I’ll escape in the buggy. The
wheel tires are synthetic and should resist the angel acids. I’ll run a quick test first.”
She didn’t have time to wait for his reply.
Oh no, Rosalee was in danger too. Lucilla punched the code for Mars Two. “Watch out, Rosalee, the
mutant angels are eating the metal struts. They’ve cracked open my greenhouse.”
She slammed down the com and gathered her emergency supplies. Radio, medical kit, food
concentrates, extra oxygen and the portable water recycler. Then, she rummaged in the workshop
compartments and found the patch kit for the buggy tires. Lucilla sat at the remote controls, placed
a test piece of tire material in the suction tube, and carefully maneuvered the robotic arm to drop the piece into the angels clustered near Dev’s pitted body.
She focused her lenses on the thin strip and waited. After five minutes, the strip was untainted and
the metal-hungry angels rippled away from it. Relieved, Lucilla sighed and hoisted the bag of
supplies over her shoulders.
Why hadn’t Jasper called back? She daren’t stayin the dome any longer. The supports might be
attacked any minute. She hoped Rosalee wasn’t immersed in her sims and had seen the com signal.
Lucilla clipped the com to her sleeve and went to the airlock. Before she exited the dome, she
checked the sand outside the door. Lines of angels crept inexorably toward her shelter, but the path
was still clear to the buggy.
She jumped to the ground, took two long strides and leaped onto the platform. Next minute, she
was inside the buggy, examining the maps from her cross country trip. The most direct route to
the rocky highlands was full of angels. Instead, she traced a detour over a rock ridge with very few
tendrils of the colored bacteria. Lucilla hit the starter. The buggy clumped off the platform, rolled
over the nearest streaks of angels, heading for the hills.
The buggy moved slowly, but outpaced the growth of the angels. Fewer green and yellow threads
were visible among the rocks. Soon, Lucilla hoped to reach higher and safer ground.