The Unknown

by Angel Wedge

  One wall was almost completely covered in cupboards, recessed into the wall. They were painted all kinds of bright colours, with brushstrokes clearly visible. Chips revealed a different colour underneath on a few of them, so the decoration and its obviously hand-painted nature were a deliberate decision. On a second wall, there was a long counter covered with documents, electronics, plates and cutlery, and ornaments. It looked to be the same black marble as the tiles on the hallway’s chessboard floor, a long work surface that might be used for making sandwiches at one end and soldering circuits at the other. Then the main part of the room was taken up by a futon, which looked like it could be folded away, but was rarely moved if the disarray of items around the perimeter was any indicator. And that just left the area of tiles on which the glider now rested, surrounded by a slightly-less-haphazard arrangement of tools.

  The vehicle dropped to the ground, and Boo stepped out. She carefully avoided the oil smears on the tiles, and stepped straight onto the carpet. The other two followed as carefully as they could, and joined her in unlocking their helmets once they’d double checked the atmosphere readouts. Boo’s suit folded to hang from the helmet, whose panels were jointed to fit inside each other, so that the whole outfit came off in five pieces and then clipped back together to hang from a single hook. Which, it turned out, slotted neatly into a tall, narrow cupboard at the left end of the array. The other two needed some assistance to get their bulky helmets off without dropping them, and stacked them inside the glider given the lack of any obvious clear spaces elsewhere.

  “Sorry, I don’t have guests much,” Boo said when it looked like they’d managed to divest themselves of most of the heavy breathing equipment. “Want a seat?” The stools she offered were flimsy collapsible things, like you might find on a campsite on Earth, but all astronauts were already well used to living with the lowest weight possible for everything. They didn’t see where the furniture had come from, but it was reasonable to guess it had been in another of the cupboards.

  “This is your home?” Jasper started. He knew it was pretty obvious, but it was the first question that came to mind.

  “Yeah. One room, standard size. Some people get more space, but I’ve got to work out how everything’s going to fit any time I get something new.”

  “You don’t have any trouble affording the stuff you want, then. Is this a communist society?”

  “The Travellers came from all over Earth,” Boo said, a little confused, “I thought I told you that already? But it’s a Martian society now.” Jasper didn’t know how to respond to that, and seemed just as bemused.

  “I guess the word ‘communist’ doesn’t have the same meaning around here,” Elle guessed, “Could be true even if it’s a fundamental part of their society, especially when the word took on such bad connotations. Maybe they never heard of communism, or they just don’t use the word, right?”

  “I guess,” she shrugged, “I thought it was a nation? They seem to be constantly at war with the Americas in old books. I’ll admit, until you said it I wondered if they were a fictional nation that authors could use as an enemy without offending anyone who really lives there. I never saw it on a map, but then I never looked at many maps.”

  “No, communism is a political philosophy. But in the twentieth century, most countries that were theoretically run on communist ideals were in fact more organised by institutional corruption, and ended up at war with the so-called Western world.”

  “Ah, right. Well, I can’t really answer that. Maybe I’ll read up on it, and see if I can give you a clear answer. And yeah, I don’t really have any trouble with the cost of anything I want to work on. I don’t have many luxury hobbies, my big thing is making things. And if you learn to make things, there’s bound to be somebody who wants to buy them. So it all works out, and I’m never short of balance.”

  “That kind of answers the question as well,” Jasper shrugged. “In a pure communist model, you don’t need to worry about what you can afford because there’s some kind of system in place to ensure everyone has what they need. I’ll admit, that’s what our camp is working on now, even though the sponsors who organised getting us here treat communism like the ultimate evil. We’ve only got the absolute minimum in supplies, so nobody can have more, and anybody who got less would become less effective to the crew.”

  “I think I see what you mean,” Boo muttered, “Maybe we are a little. I know people who never use their balance at all, we call them flats. Never claim their entitlement because they’re happy with the provided essentials, and their leisure time doesn’t cost anything. Like chatting with friends, or writing, or whatever.”

  “Oh, right,” Jasper nodded, “I think I’d like to know more about this system. Maybe it could work for us too. The sponsors have said that we’re back to a cash economy as soon as all five ships are on Mars, but I think there’s enough of us who’ve got used to not having to pay for everything. But while we’re here, would it be rude to ask for a little tour? I’m curious about so many aspects of Martian society. Your engineering, your culture, your laws…”

  “Are we allowed to be here?” Elle asked more directly, “I mean, are people going to wonder what unfamiliar people are in the city for if we go outside? Do you have authorisation from your commander to let us in?”

  “I don’t think there’s any rules about it.” Boo seemed so nonchalant, like it didn’t even matter. That just drove home the differences in structure between the two colonies; this city paid a lot less attention to any kind of hierarchy; like a city rather than a mission. “And people wouldn’t recognise you. There’s always people around you don’t know, right? Maybe they’ll think you’re somebody whose schedule doesn’t line up with theirs, unless you introduce yourself. I put you on the computer as do-not-track, same as the guys who don’t want there to be a record of their entrances and exits in case a jealous boyfriend starts trying to keep tabs on them.”

  “Well then,” Jasper nodded, still not quite comfortable but excited by the opportunity of exploring the Martian city, being the first to come here. It was a first contact scenario, in a way none of the previous generation’s authors had even envisioned. “Will they be okay if you show us some of the city’s engineering? I really want to know how this place works.”

  “I don’t know that much about the physical stuff,” Boo shrugged, “My engineering is all in software, I can make the systems do whatever I want. I’ve only done electronics as far as basic education, and enough physics to build the glider. Hey, I could ask Boz to show you around if you want?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she grabbed a computer tablet off the workbench and tapped a couple of buttons.

  “Wait, who? Do you–” but he didn’t have any time to protest. The door slid open, and there was another guy standing outside. He was impossibly tall, presumably a consequence of growing up under lower gravity, but well muscled as well. He had red hair, cropped short enough that it was more like stubble on his scalp, and was wearing a simple one-piece tunic and shorts. It wasn’t obvious if this was the height of Martian fashion, or he’d come straight from the gym.

  “Hi,” he raised a hand, “John Bosẽ. Don’t think I know you guys. What’s up, Boo?”

  “Hey Boz. These are the Earthers I met, they’ve been going stir crazy in there, I thought we’d better meet the neighbours.”

  “You thought…” he sucked in a deep breath between his impossibly white teeth before continuing: “Boo, that’s why you’re not in charge of the first contact protocols. You know you’re going to get fined for this?”

  “No I’m not. The order was not to make contact until the official expedition set off, which was this morning. So we’re allowed to talk now if we want to. And they understand this is just being good neighbours, not any kind of official welcome committee. So who cares?”

  “Right. I still think it’s yet another red mark on your record. But that’s nothing new. So, what do you need me for? Need extra protection in case they
get rough?”

  “No, we’re all Martians now. Just Jasper wants to see some of the civic engineering, get his head round how Kells works. I figured you could be the tour guide today.”

  The big guy thought it over, then nodded: “Fine. So what are you going to be doing while I’m giving lectures about pillars and props? As if I couldn’t guess.”

  “Hey it’s not like that. Elle’s a social scientist, she was going to be studying how pop culture develops once their camp’s been around long enough to have some. So I’m going to show her some of what we got here. No doubt the faculty heads have given the Earth colony the whole text of the book of law, but that won’t teach them how things work in the real world. And at least somebody over there needs to understand how we do things.”

  “Right. You spend the afternoon in your room with a cute girl, you’re really in it for the good of our civilisations.”

  “Of course. I don’t fall for someone that quick, you know. We’ve only spoken like three times. And I know how much you’re going to enjoy showing off, being able to tell someone who hasn’t seen them yet about how great your engineering achievements are. So we both get to enjoy ourselves.”

  “Right,” Bosẽ grinned knowingly. It was hard for the two outsiders to tell how much of his criticism was serious, and how much was a running joke between friends. It was obvious they’d said things like this before. “Anyway, we’d better get moving. Jasper, right?”

  Once they had separated, Elle found her eyes roving the workbench in Boo’s room. She thought she was starting to get a better idea of who the girl was; a rebel without anything to rebel against, trying to find her place in a world where everyone had such great expectations of her. It was amazing how she could read so much into an almost deliberately haphazard placement of tools, like she was trying to hide the underlying order from herself. Looking here was almost like a houseguest glancing at the bookshelves for some secret hint to a person’s personality, back on Earth where there were still people who bought physical books.

  “Don’t pay too much attention to him,” Boo muttered, “He’s just jealous. Maybe I took off with someone he was inexpertly flirting with a few times when we were younger, that doesn’t mean I’ve got a one track mind, right? I invited you round because I’m interested, you seem like you’re cool. Your Commander, he’s got a stick up his ass as bad as some of the department heads here. Those official meetings are going to go nowhere, and I figured you’re open minded enough that once you meet some of the people who live here, then we can really start to understand each other.”

  “Just to bring our communities closer,” Elle nodded, “Opening up the free exchange of ideas, in a spirit of scientific cooperation.”

  “And you got a nice ass. What? Look, if I’m going to spend hours chatting, it’s nice to have some visual stimulation too. I know our civilisations need to talk, on an informal level to clear the channels. So I could go out and start talking to the first Earth rover that comes close, or I could head out and find someone who I already know is smart enough to understand me, and looks good too, it’s a no-brainer. You can’t blame me for that, can you? I’m not going to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but you can’t blame a girl for looking.”

  “I guess. Looking is fine. Apart from that, we stick to an informal version of the official first contact protocols.” She knew it was a pretty silly thing to say, but she wanted to give the impression of respectability. If she was purely professional, then she didn’t need to admit she was more flattered than offended.

  “Section three!” Boo cheered and waved her hands in the air, like an abortive Mexican wave. Then she stopped suddenly, hands back in her lap, and blushing crimson. “Ah, I guess cultural references don’t carry over so well. Less than a century, and we already don’t quite speak the same language.”

  “Well, why don’t you try to explain the joke. I’m not really qualified in that kind of linguistics, but I’ve got to admit that I’m intrigued. It could be an interesting way to learn about a different culture.”

  “Well, it’s… It’s a little improper, I guess. We’ve got first contact protocols, drawn up by the previous generation. Not really about meeting aliens, there’s hardly anybody who even considers that a possibility. But in case we meet up with Earth again, if they send somebody to find us after twenty years, or fifty, or a thousand years. It’s like, an official set of guidelines, to work out how far we’ve diverged. I bet the department heads have already looked over it and decided most of it’s not relevant. But it’s a document everybody can find a copy of in case they need it.”

  “Right,” Elle grinned, “I think I’m already starting to see your culture as less of a homogeneous whole. I mean, there’s the official rules, and then there’s what actually happens, right? But from the way you talk about it, it sounds like they just let the rules slip. Is that accurate? Like, the rules are there, but they don’t get in the way when they’re not relevant.”

  “Yeah, pretty much. But anyway, one of the sections of the first contact protocol is section three. You can guess what the other sections are called. And section three is all about comparing evolution. You know, a hundred years down the line, it could be worth doing some kind of tests to see if we’ve evolved differently between Earth and Mars. They already figured that growing up in low gravity has made us grow taller faster, but we can’t do a side by side comparison of changes like that. So whoever wrote the protocols, clearly a pure scientist who doesn’t get out much, has these ideas about people comparing each other’s bodies and… well, in those days anybody could do entertainment. Record their own little drama plays, or sketches, or whatever, and there was one comedy thing that nearly everybody did their own version of. About some guy who’s supposedly been drifting alone in space for years, exploring, and when a ship comes to get him out of the escape pod he doesn’t care if the people behind the door are Martians, Earthers, or aliens, he just wants to get down to section three.”

  “I can imagine that would be pretty funny, kind of thing that goes viral.”

  “Right. Everybody’s done it, from comedy to cartoons to porn. These days, anybody says ‘first contact protocols’ you’ll expect at least a couple of people to jump up and do the section three cheer. I’m probably showing my age though. Maybe five years ago, I don’t know who remembers it now.”

  “I wonder if anybody’s ever done a study in the compatibility of humour across cultures,” Elle mused, “I mean, we speak the same language but we’ve got a whole generation without contact. Would I find the stuff on your entertainment channels funny? Would you just be confused by Earth humour? I have no idea if that would count as sociology or linguistics.”

  “Would you like to give it a try? I mean, it’s research, so you won’t get in trouble for wasting valuable minutes of contact time. Watch some videos together. Or should we stick to the official protocols for comparing cultures, whatever they are?”

  “You really want to see me naked?”

  “I wouldn’t complain. But outside of an officially mandated scientific protocol, I normally prefer to get to know someone a little better first.”

  “We should start with watching those videos, then. See if Earth and Mars are comedically and dramatically compatible.” She started blushing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. As she played them back in her mind, she could imagine she hadn’t objected to getting naked. She’d effectively just said “Let’s watch a movie first”, and she hoped the other woman hadn’t parsed it in the same way. But that smile, the casual smirk that seemed to come out at the most inappropriate moments, maybe a tiny part of her had different hopes. They were so alike, neither of them was the kind to give straight answers even to themselves, so they would just have to see what happened.

  * * *

  “It’s the same on columns going up or down,” Bosẽ pointed at the coil of scaffolding that supported a cylindrical opening above them. Some of the larger scientific facilities in Kells were suppo
rted by similar shafts drilled out of the rock. He’d spent a disproportionate amount of time pointing out the complex helical structure that made such caves so economical to drill out; possibly because he’d had a hand in its design.

  “Have you ever gone down that far?” Jasper asked, a little surprised. He could see a few engineering uses for structures like the ones Bosẽ was talking about, but given that most of the city was a single level cut into the side of the mountain, he couldn’t see much reason for drilling downwards other than mining, which of course worked by different rules.

  “Only once. I was the lead engineer there, it’s something I’ve got that Jihan and Chase can’t claim. Working on something completely different, a challenge nobody ever attempted before. I was the one who realised that the structure would work inverted.”

  “I’d be interested to see that,” Jasper smiled, “Can you–”

  “Oh, no. Forget I said anything.”

  “What? I thought our people were supposed to be working together. No secrets, just protocol, that’s what you said. No technology hidden from us, unless it’s to stop the diplomats being overwhelmed by technical detail. Has Kells got a secret missile base or something under the Martian desert?”

  “No! No, it’s not hidden from you. I mean, I guess it is, but that’s because it’s a something nobody knows in general. Doesn’t go outside the department, you know? They thought it would be a distraction if the whole city knew. And then once you’ve got a secret, everybody gets suspicious. I heard that the Head of Research always gets told, and they always think about telling everyone their predecessor was keeping this huge secret, and then they think about how upset people would be. It could make people trust their departments less, you know, so they always have to keep up the secret.”

  “Conspiracy theorists,” Jasper shook his head, “I heard stories like that on Earth, and every one of them was crazy. But, you actually built an inverted helical scaffold for a secret project?”