The speech had gone well. Crafted to touch on all that was necessary, hit all the correct points. It was like some ancient diplomatic acupuncture, it soothed the body politic, delivered with minimal pain and maximum effect.
But what most animated the world’s media was not the substance of the address, nor the seismic event that this moment in the UN represented for humanity. No, what garnered the column inches and screen space was her dress. A flowing scarlet number, replete with full length cape, accentuating her form, highlighting her mystique and captivating all to the point of distraction—which was the whole purpose of it. It was brand Mars: conceived, contrived and designed by Rachel and her team, it was meant to convey a mystical, otherworldly aura, and it achieved it in spades. Particularly with the addition of a tiara that looked like it might be capable of receiving a direct transmission from Mars. But this was all optics, designed to give everyone something to talk about that wasn’t substantive. It was like a TV talent show, UN style. Nevertheless, how she looked mattered more than simply creating a distraction. After all Jann was now in her forties, yet looked like a fresh-faced twenty-five-year-old. She was the physical manifestation of the power of the bacteria to alter human biology
Jann glanced out the side window of the vehicle. They had been traveling for quite some time on a narrow two-lane blacktop, twisting and turning their way though the vineyards and ranches of El Dorado County. This stretch of road was cutting its way through a forest of pine. Every now and again the tree-line would abruptly end and the land would spread out in rolling hills planted with vines. All about was green and verdant and bursting with early spring life.
The agent in the passenger seat touched his earpiece, nodded to himself and swiveled his head around to Jann. “ETA in two minutes, ma’am.”
“I hope it’s not going to be another freak show.” Jann directed her statement at Teri.
“Shouldn’t be. It’s not an official visit, all on the QT.”
Jann looked out the side window again but this time she directed her gaze upward into the Northern California sky. “Assuming you’re not counting the flotilla of news choppers that have been following us since the airport.” She had counted four earlier on.
“Don’t worry, they don’t have permission to land. We’ll get you inside quickly.”
“You know, if I open my mouth wide enough I’m sure the lenses they have could look right down my throat and see what I had for breakfast.” Jann took her head away from the window.
“We’re here,” said the agent.
They slowed down and turned off the road in through an arched gate. Above it, a sign read Green Mountain Crematorium. The driveway was long, and swept through a manicured landscape that would put the Augusta National Golf Club to shame. Up ahead, a row of low brick buildings came into view. The driveway opened out into a parking area. It was empty of vehicles, presumably cleared out by order of the security team. The motorcade moved up to the front entrance and came to a halt under the large canopy that protruded from the front of the building.
Jann could see several people standing at the doorway, immaculately dressed, hands clasped in front of them, waiting to be introduced. She sighed, “Here we go again.”
But before she could exit, the security piled out of the ancillary vehicles and took up predetermined positions, holding their earpieces, talking into their cuffs. Only when they were all happy could Jann, otherwise known as the package, be extricated from the vehicle and escorted into the building.
Jann stepped out and was immediately beset by the funeral director and his wife, an elderly couple in their late seventies. She shook hands and nodded as they exchanged formalities. However, the last member of the welcoming committee she recognized. He was a good deal younger, in his early forties, short in stature with a strange scarlet birthmark extending from his left earlobe all the way down his neck, and under his chin to his Adam’s apple. He made no attempt to cover it up, at least not anymore.
“Hello, Freddy. You’re looking well,” said Jann.
He shook her hand and smiled. “Not as good as you. You look just the same as the last time we met. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Jann laughed. “Looks can be deceptive, Freddy.”
He gave a lopsided grin and he leaned in a bit closer to her. “I’ve been saying that very same thing to people for years.” His voice was soft, as if what he was saying was meant for her ears only. He stepped back and extended his hand towards the interior of the building. “Come, this way, everything has been prepared.”
They walked in through the front door into a wide, marble floored atrium, its tinted glass roof casting a kaleidoscope of colored light around the space. They moved to a large private office off the atrium. It was thickly carpeted with a wide oak desk dominating the central position. Around it were spaced several comfortable chairs. It was where the rituals of death were discussed as options in taste and affordability.
Sitting in the center of the desk was a modest urn. It contained all that remained of Dr. Jann Malbec’s father.
Mr. Turlock took up his position behind the desk and placed a hand on the urn. “As requested we have extracted your father from his… resting place in the mausoleum.”
Jann looked at him for a moment. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind. If you don’t mind, though, I would like to conduct this business with just Freddy—for old times’ sake.”
Mr. Turlock looked crestfallen. He looked over at his son and like a fallen warrior passing the baton to his heir, he deflated and smiled. “Of course.” He stepped out from behind the desk.
Jann swung around to the retinue of handlers and security agents. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
Security staff talked into cuffs and Teri’s face reconfigured itself into a look of utter rejection. She was being cast adrift from her charge. Her reason for being no longer wanted her around, albeit for just a few minutes.
“Certainly,” she answered. “By all means, take as much time as you want.” They were ushered out the door leaving Jann and Freddy alone. There was a moment’s silence. “Drink?” said Freddy
“Really? You have alcohol here?”
“It’s not against the law. And, well… a lot of people who come and sit in here, really need a stiff drink. It helps to get them through it.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. What have you got?”
He opened the door to a cabinet concealed behind the desk and lifted out a half empty bottle of Chivas Regal and two glasses. “Whiskey okay?”
“Perfect.”
He poured two glasses and then produced a tray of ice, from a freezer underneath the desk. Jann dropped two ice cubes in her drink as Freddy sat in the chair opposite her. They raised their glasses and clinked. Jann sipped her drink, sat back and looked directly at Freddy. “I’m trying to remember the last time we saw each other. It was graduation day, I think.”
“Yeah. Long time ago now.”
Jann looked around the room. “So you never did anything with your college degree?”
“I worked for a while as an intern for a lab up in Seattle. But, my father got ill so I came back to look after the business. I ended up staying, even after he recovered.” He gave a sort of shrug. “I know it seems a bit odd. Being a funeral director is not generally a career path for a biologist.”
There was a silence for a moment as Jann cast her mind back to a simpler time, when exams were the only stress. She had never paid him much notice until their final year when they started to gravitate toward one another. He, like her, was a bit awkward, self-conscious of his birthmark. He kept to himself and had few friends. But, it was during some college get together that they struck up a conversation and realized they were from the same neck of the woods, and knew a lot of the same people. One thing led to another and Jann found herself waking up beside him the next morning. In the end, nothing really came of it and they went their separate ways.
Freddy nodded at the urn that stood on the desk between them
. “So what’s the plan?”
“Take him back up to the farm and sprinkle the ashes into the stream that runs through the property. It irrigates the vines, so he gets to be part of what he created.” Jann touched the side of the urn. “It was his wish.”
“Have you been back there yet?”
“Not yet. It’s hard for me to do anything these days, without a major mobilization of troops.”
“It’s in a bad way. I took a trip up there a while ago, just to see. Everything is either overgrown, running wild or dried out to a parchment. I’m afraid the house has been broken into a few times. But Sheriff Morton informs me it’s just souvenir hunters, nothing too serious.”
They didn’t speak for a few moments and Jann realized that he was used to sitting here with people who needed a moment to compose themselves. So he kept silent as Jann thought about what she was going to do. She had been putting this off for a while, but her father had made this request in his will, so she felt duty bound to fulfill it.
“Would you come up there with me, now, today?”
Freddy thought about this for a moment, and hesitated. Jann put her glass down on the desk and leaned in. “It would be nice to have someone with me who…” she looked away and gazed out the window across the gardens. “Well… someone who I actually know.” She looked back at him. “Strange as it may seem, Freddy, but you are the closest thing I have to a personal friend on this entire planet.”
He looked at her for a moment considering this request. “Sure, I’d be honored.”
“Just so you know, as soon as you step out there with me, your face will be all over the news feeds in five minutes.”
He smiled. “You forget, I’m used to people staring at me all the time.” He turned his face and raised his chin to best display the birthmark down the side. “I’ll make sure to present my good side.”
“Thank you, Freddy. It’s hard to do this on my own.”
“No problem. Doesn’t mean we’re dating though.”
Jann laughed. It was the first time she had done so since returning to Earth.
The journey up to the old vineyard was short, they were there in less than twenty-five minutes. Teri had been booted out of Jann’s vehicle and Freddy installed in her place. As they traveled they pointed out places where people they knew had lived. Some were still there, but it seemed to Jann that almost everyone she had ever known here had either died or moved on.
The vineyard itself had formerly been part of a ranch that had been split up and sold off in lots. Her parents had come into some money and had had the romantically insane idea to move out of the hustle and bustle of the big city and engage in the agrarian lifestyle. But through a combination of naiveté, lack of knowledge and plain bad luck, that dream slowly faded into the harsh reality of subsistence fruit farming.
They turned off the main road through the gates to the property, and up the long drive to the house. Jann could see the effects of years of neglect. The plantings were parched and many were dead from lack of water. The olive trees seemed to have fared best and they were substantially bigger than Jann remembered. Already there were several security personnel dotted around. Presumably an advance party to check the place out before allowing Jann to set foot in such an open and unprotected space. Overhead she could hear the choppers circle around.
The SUV crunched its way across the gravel driveway and came to a halt in front of the house. Through the journey here she had rested the urn beside her on the back seat, cradling it with one arm. Now that they had stopped she brought it up and placed it in her lap and held it with both hands. The door was opened for her by a young and efficient security agent who stood back, motionless, one hand on the door handle, eyes darting this way and that as he waited for her to alight.
She turned to Freddy. “This…” she nodded at the urn, “…I have to do on my own.”
Freddy nodded back. “I understand.”
She stepped out into the afternoon sun, and made her way around the side of the house, through a small wooded area and down to the edge of the river that bordered the property. It was by far the best part of the place, and the reason that her parents had fallen in love with it. They spent many happy days here, fishing and swimming, when the river was high enough. She kicked off her shoes and waded in to the center of the stream. It was cool and refreshing. She lifted the lid on the urn and sprinkled the ashes into the water. It had been her father’s wish, a romantic to the end. Perhaps he had some notion that he would be washed downstream and find his way into the vines that filled this valley. Maybe next year, when the new season wine was being drunk, the vintners and oenophiles would sniff its notes, taste its flavors and declare it an excellent vintage.
She stood there for a while watching the ash pool and eddy and slowly drift off with the gentle currents of the stream. She looked up from the water and took one last look around the home she grew up in. She stepped out of the stream, grabbed her shoes and walked back up to the waiting cars.
Freddy was standing outside looking around when she got back. He waved when he saw her and then looked at her intently, perhaps trying to gauge her state. Careful to not say the wrong thing to her at this emotional time.
She waved back. “Mission accomplished. My father now sleeps with the fishes.”
She sensed Freddy was somewhat taken aback by the glibness of her statement. She smiled. “It’s what he would have said. He had many faults but at least he could see the lighter side of life. It was probably what sustained him.”
“I can see what he liked about this place.” Freddy scanned the landscape again.
“I can see the attraction, tending the vines, pruning, harvesting. Bringing life out of the ground sure beats the hell out of putting the dead into it.”
He looked back at Jann. “Oh… sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“None taken.” It was now Jann’s turn to take a more studied look around the fields. “Why don’t you do it then, you know, get yourself a small plot, live the dream?”
“I would love to but… I don’t have the money for it, and then there’s the family business, commitments, duty. You know.”
“Well then you can have this place.” Jann spread her hands out.
Freddy looked at her and laughed. “I don’t have the finances for anything like this.”
“Freddy, I’m not selling it to you. I’m giving it to you.”
He stood there in silence for a moment. Jann could see he was trying to figure out what her angle was, what trick she was playing on him.
“Freddy, I see the same thing in your eyes, that same look my father had. You would cherish this place, wouldn’t you?”
Freddy was looking around again, but this time she could sense he was taking stock. Perhaps seeing what planting needed to be done, which areas could be expanded, how new irrigation could be set up. He was hooked. Then he shook his head. “It wouldn’t feel right, Jann.”
“I want you to have it, Freddy. It would make me happy, and my father, to know it was in good hands.”
He just stood there speechless, for a few moments. “What about you? I mean this is your home.”
Jann looked around again, slowly this time. “For a long time I thought of this place, this Earth, as my home. But now as I look around, all I see is what’s not there anymore, what’s gone. I now understand that home is not about place, it’s about people. Coming here finally made me realize—my home is Mars.”
THE END
Extract from the First Book of Martian Poetry, by Xenon Hybrid, President of Mars.
Extravehicular activity (EVA)
Enclosed, encased, encapsulated
No sound, save for breath and beat
No touch nor taste nor scent
Senses reflected
Like radar echo
Returned unanswered
By mylar and metal
To see, but not to be
To know through proxy only
This world, this planet
This Mars.
Reproduced by kind permission of the Government of Mars and The Greater Martian Territories.
Colony Four Mars: Jezero City
1
Five Klicks Due South
Jay Eriksen was just five klicks due south of the way station when he first felt a slight change in the rover’s operation. Nothing major, just a different sound. But it came with a vaguely troubling vibration, the sort that could be nothing—then again it could mean trouble.
His senses were now on high alert to any further fluctuations in the mechanics of the machine. He was acutely aware that the only thing keeping him alive on Mars was technology, and if some vital component failed, then he would probably die. But he was not unduly worried, since he was nearing his destination: the way station near the entrance to the six-hundred kilometer long Nili Fossae trench.
There were a great many of these way stations, or relay points, as they were sometimes called. They radiated out from the main population centers in Jezero Crater and punctuated the routes to the new outposts. A welcome refuge for the weary traveler along the ever expanding Martian highways. The road he was currently on was a well-traveled route, with machines crossing the high central plateau loaded with ore for processing back in Jezero—the epicenter of human colonization on Mars.
Jay knew it well. He had delivered supplies many times to the mining outpost as well as to the various way stations along its route. These were an important component in the fledgling highway infrastructure of Mars. They facilitated longer journeys, expanding the reach of the exploration teams and miners. As on Earth, useful resources were seldom conveniently located on one’s doorstep, so long journeys needed to be made to access these resources. Up here, all across Nili Fossae, was an area rich in calcium carbonate, a significant compound in the manufacture of cement. This made the expansion of Jezero possible. Here the raw materials for construction were extracted and transported back down to the Industrial Sector, where it was processed into a thick viscous sludge to be used by the multitude of industrial 3D printing robots that now dominated Jezero’s landscape. They worked non-stop, 24/7, or as in the case of Mars 24.5/7, laying down new layers and constructing ever more intricate buildings. The old Colony One, now known as Jezero City, had expanded beyond all recognition over the last decade, and currently housed over nine hundred people.
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