“Oh—yeah,” she said. There was an odd, nervous tone in her voice. “I guess I must have left it here?”
She went to pick it up, but he grabbed it before she could reach it. He unzipped it and found two environment suits, complete with helmets.
So that was her big plan. Not just to come out here to see the stars, but to actually go out onto the surface. Except that now she was so worried about his anxiety that she was pretending like it wasn’t what she’d been thinking all along. This was what he hated the most about his condition. One minute, someone was telling him that having panic attacks was no big deal. The next, they were treating him like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment.
“I can go outside, you know,” he said. “It’s not a big deal. And what about you? You don’t even have your suit certification.”
“Well, actually I do,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. “I took the test last month. I wanted to surprise you.”
Michael almost laughed out loud. Ever since she’d moved here from Earth, Lilith had been the only other person in his class who didn’t have her basic certification. Now even she had gone out and gotten it like it was nothing at all. Because, of course, it was nothing at all. People took the test every day without having panic attacks. They went outside every day without needing to be hauled back in on a stretcher.
That wasn’t going to be him anymore, he decided, with a conviction that was almost scary. From now on, he wasn’t going to let his stupid condition stop him. He’d practically passed the advanced test, hadn’t he? He knew how to take care of himself. Maybe he’d get panic attacks and maybe he wouldn’t, but either way, it would be better than staying inside like a frightened little kid.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he said. “First, though—”
He stopped. From the other side of one of the buildings came a harsh bark of laughter, followed by a chorus of giggles and hushes. Lilith grabbed him and pulled him toward the door. Just as she opened it up, however, a group of older kids appeared from around the corner. Lilith jerked open the door, but the beam of a flashlight caught them before they could go through.
“Hey,” someone said. “Who’s that?”
Michael clenched his teeth. He recognized that voice. It was the older boy Beecher who’d made fun of him. He held his hand up to shade his eyes from the light.
“Isn’t that the kid from the suit test?” asked a second voice. Kyle, Michael remembered.
“Seriously?” said Beecher. “The little nummer who puked in his suit?”
“Yes,” Michael called out, not knowing what else to say. “It’s me.”
Beecher and Kyle walked up to them, accompanied by a girl Michael didn’t recognize. Beecher grinned at them like a cat who’d caught a couple of mice. Michael had known bullies like him before. Were they just having fun, or were they actually interested in hurting someone?
“What are you guys doing here?” Lilith asked casually.
“That’s funny,” Beecher said. “I was going to ask what a couple of grade school kids are doing in our spot.”
“We’re in middle school, actually,” Lilith said.
“You feeling better, little dinkus?” Beecher asked, peering at Michael with mock concern. “Or are you going to piss in your pants again?”
Taking his cue from Lilith, Michael just shrugged and did his best to look disinterested. “I’m fine.”
“You’re fine,” Kyle repeated. “Well, we’re glad to hear that.”
Another group of older kids came around the corner, talking in hushed voices. Michael squinted as four more flashlights were aimed in his direction. He was relieved to see them. Hypothesis: the larger the group of older kids, the less likely that someone will be hurt. But when the new group was close enough for him to see their faces, his relief faded away. Hypothesis: the larger the group of older kids, the more likely it is that one of them will be your brother.
“Michael?” Peter asked, astonished. “What the hell are you doing out here?”
“You know this kid?” Beecher asked.
“He’s my brother,” Peter replied.
“Hi, Peter,” Michael said. “Um . . . good to see you?”
Beecher laughed. “How come you never told us your brother was a blubbering little coward who—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Peter grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him up against the wall of the garage so hard, Michael could hear the dull thunk of his head against the concrete. Now it was Michael’s turn to be astonished—he’d never seen Peter so angry. Beecher outweighed him by fifteen kilos, but Peter held him there against the wall as if he were a six-year-old.
“Don’t talk about my brother like that,” Peter said. “Ever. Got it?”
“Hey,” Beecher said, struggling against Peter’s grip. “Easy. I was just playing around.”
“Good. Then go play over there. I’m going to talk to my brother.”
Peter let go of Beecher and turned back toward Michael. Beecher glared at him and muttered something under his breath, and then he punched Kyle in the arm. “Come on.”
“Bye, Peter’s little brother,” one of the girls said with a giggle, as they all headed over to the other side of the little grassy area. “And Peter’s little brother’s friend,” another added.
“See you,” Lilith said cheerfully.
“Now tell me,” Peter said, in a toneless voice that made Michael nervous. “What exactly are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“Just looking at the stars,” Lilith said.
Peter looked intently at Michael, who flinched despite his best effort. “Just looking at the stars,” Michael echoed.
“Mmm-hmm,” Peter said. “You know, Lilith, you’re a much better liar than Michael.”
Lilith held up her hands in a what-can-I-do expression. “The pope is a better liar than Michael.”
“Fine,” Michael said. Why did they need to lie, anyway? “We’re going outside the dome—”
“Oh, boy,” Peter said, pursing his lips. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“—and you’re not going to stop us,” Michael said.
“I’m not?” Peter asked skeptically.
“He’s not?” Lilith said.
“You’re not,” Michael said. “Because part of growing up is deciding when you don’t need protection anymore. Isn’t that what you told me?”
“I meant that about Mom and Dad. Not me.” Peter took a deep breath. “I guess it’s kind of hard for me to take the moral high ground here, since I was around your age when I snuck outside for the first time.”
“Really?” Michael asked, suddenly very interested in this bit of information. “Where—”
“Of course, there’s a big difference,” Peter said. “I never had any suit anxiety.”
Michael bit his lip. Had he been wrong about his brother? Was even Peter on his parents’ side now?
“On the other hand, you know more about being out on the surface than any twelve-year-old I’ve ever met,” Peter went on. “And you’re the only one who knows what your panic attacks are really like. So I’m just going to ask you—are you sure you can handle it?”
Michael wasn’t sure what his answer would have been if Peter had asked him that just a little while ago. But he’d made his decision. He wasn’t going to let his anxiety stop him, no matter what happened.
“I can handle it.”
Peter and Lilith looked at each other for a moment. “I trust him,” she said, shrugging.
Peter sighed. “I do too—as much as I wish I didn’t. Promise me you’ll stay safe, and that you won’t do anything stupid?”
“Promise,” Lilith said.
“This is almost a Prasad tradition now,” Peter said, ruffling Michael’s hair. “Going outside in the middle of the night with your first girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Michael said, embarrassed. “She’
s not my girlfriend.”
Lilith stiffened, and there was an awkward silence. Peter raised an eyebrow. “I see. Well, carry on then. And stay safe.”
He turned and jogged back toward the other high schoolers. Lilith pulled one of the suits out of the bag and tossed it on the ground in front of Michael, and then she shoved a helmet into his arms with so much force that he stumbled backward a step.
“All right, let’s get dressed,” Lilith said. “I’ll go inside. You can change out here.”
She closed the door behind her, leaving Michael standing by himself. Why was she suddenly acting so weird? Had he said something wrong?
He went behind the bushes and quickly changed into the suit, ignoring the amused looks from some of Peter’s high school friends. As he waited for Lilith, he inspected the helmet she’d brought. It wasn’t his, of course, but it was the right size and was in good shape. It would be fine. He would be fine.
“I wish they’d make these things a little less skintight,” Lilith said as she opened the door again. She shimmied her hips and pulled at the fabric of her suit.
“You’re not mad about what I said, are you?” Michael asked. He was getting the distinct impression that “mad” was an understatement for how Lilith was feeling right now. “I mean, you aren’t my girlfriend, right?”
“Michael,” she said, sighing, “you wouldn’t know a girlfriend if one punched you in the face. Now come on.”
His head was spinning as he followed her back into the garage. What did she mean by that? By the time they’d found two oil-stained air vests and finished hooking up their suits, he’d already considered four different explanations. As they walked down the ramp toward the big cargo airlock, he settled on a fifth. Hypothesis: sometimes girls say things just to confuse you.
“Are you doing okay?” Lilith asked.
It took him a moment to realize what she was asking. He’d been so distracted by her comment about girlfriends that he’d hardly noticed the fact that he was now wearing an environment suit and helmet.
“Yeah,” he said, trying not to think about it too much. “I’m fine.”
They stopped outside the inner airlock doors. Lilith consulted a scrap of paper with some numbers written on it, and then she tapped a code into the panel next to the doors. Michael looked at her quizzically. “My team captain’s dad’s girlfriend runs this garage,” she explained.
They stepped inside and Michael started the depressurization cycle. The air rushed out of the airlock and the pressure display spun downward. The whoosh of the pumps grew fainter and fainter until everything was silent. A red light flashed three times, and the big outer doors slid open.
They walked carefully out onto the surface, their boots crunching through traces of ice in the sand. Everything was dark except for two big circles of light from flood lamps on either side of the door. Stacks of cargo containers cast long shadows like outstretched fingers. A large corral held a half dozen rovers in various states of disrepair.
“Have you ever been outside at night?” Michael asked.
“Nope. First time. Kind of spooky.”
They snapped headlamps onto the tops of their helmets and turned them on. The beams were like solid spears of light in the darkness. Michael walked around the outside of the corral, peering at the rovers. Each one had a small printout taped to the side listing the repairs that needed to be made. He stopped near a two-person buggy with a bent roll bar.
“Here we go,” he said. “This’ll do.”
“You want to steal a rover?” Lilith asked. “An hour ago I could hardly drag you out of bed, and now you’re pushing grand theft auto. I’ve created a monster.”
“I want to borrow a rover,” he corrected. “There’s something I want to show you. So unless you want to spend two hours walking—”
Lilith held up her hands. “Oh, I’m good.”
As he hopped over the fence and climbed into the buggy, he could feel his confidence building. This was exactly what he needed—for people to listen to him and treat him like he was any other kid, instead of telling him how he was different.
He sat down and clipped on his nylon safety harness. Lilith paused for a moment to inspect the bent roll bar. “It’s fine,” Michael said, glancing briefly at the damage. “Someone was just driving too fast.”
He wiped a thin layer of dust off the central control screen and flipped the main power switch. The headlights flashed on and the screen came to life.
“Giddyup!” Lilith cried.
Michael looked at her with a baffled expression.
“It’s something my aunt used to say,” Lilith said with a shrug. “It means ‘Let’s go.’ I think.”
A rush of adrenaline flowed through him as he disengaged the brake and pressed down on the throttle. The tires spun in the dirt, and they lurched out of the corral and onto a small concrete path. When they reached an intersection with a larger road, he stopped and consulted the map display on the rover’s console.
“So where are we going?” Lilith asked.
“Shh,” he said. “Patience is the ally of the mischief-maker.”
She rolled her eyes so dramatically he could practically feel it in his seat. “Uh-huh.”
He followed the larger road for a few kilometers and then turned off onto a small rutted trail. They bounced along, kicking up a cloud of dust that glowed pink in the light from their headlamps.
“I seriously think I’m going to die of boredom,” Lilith said, yawning.
After a few minutes he slowed down, peering into the darkness ahead. Suddenly Lilith sat up straight and pointed off to one side. “Ohmygod. What was that?”
“Interested now?” Michael asked, grinning.
“Just tell me it wasn’t a giant alien cockroach, because I swear that’s what I saw.”
He turned the rover until the headlights reflected on something metallic. As he drove carefully forward, a large insectlike object emerged from the darkness ahead of them.
“Wow,” Lilith said. “What is it?”
Michael stopped the rover. “It’s a probe from Earth. It was called Phoenix.”
They climbed out and walked carefully the rest of the way, as if a loud sound might wake it up. The main body was just a flat disk with an array of instruments, antennae, and cameras, all hand wired like amateur science experiments. Its two solar panels had both broken off into sharp pieces, and its long robotic arm was twisted and bent. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and grit.
“My dad took me here once,” Michael said. “When I was only seven or eight. That was the first time he let me run around without my tether.”
It was hard to believe that in those days, his dad had always pushed him to do more, more, more. Even after his first few panic attacks, his dad had kept trying, telling him that maybe it was just some kind of allergic reaction to his environment suit. Now, though, it was like he was pushing Michael in the opposite direction. Stay inside. Don’t take any chances. Don’t try to do anything, because you’ll probably fail.
Lilith pointed to a small flat circle on the main body, next to a stencil of the American flag. “What’s this?”
Michael crouched down. “I don’t know,” he said. “It looks like an old data disc.”
“I think there’s some writing on it, but the dust is covering it up.”
“Don’t touch it,” he said. He went back to the rover and pulled out a compressed-air gun. He turned it to the gentlest setting and blew the dust away. Lilith leaned close and read the words aloud.
“‘This archive, provided to the NASA Phoenix mission by The Planetary Society, contains the names of twenty-first-century Earthlings who wanted to travel to Mars in spirit, if not in body.’”
“I wonder if these people thought that someday there’d be two kids standing here reading this,” Michael said.
“Aren’t they sending probes to other stars soon?” Lilith asked. “Maybe in a hundred and fifty years, our great-grandkids will be standing
next to one of them and talking about how primitive it looks.”
Suddenly her face turned pink. “Not our great-grandkids. Just yours and mine. Separately.”
“Of course,” Michael said. “I didn’t think—”
“Good,” she said.
He sighed and wondered whether he was ever going to understand her. Probably not, he decided.
They sat down cross-legged in the dirt and looked up at the sky. Behind them, the colony dome looked like a child’s snow globe waiting to be picked up and shaken. A massive array of stars floated overhead, blue and red and orange and yellow, like flecks of glowing paint splattered across the sky.
“It’s so weird that the stars don’t twinkle,” Lilith said. “I still can’t get used to that.”
“The atmosphere is too thin.”
“And no moon. I miss the moon.”
“Mars has two moons,” Michael said. He pointed to the south. “There’s Phobos, and there’s Deimos.”
“Pfft. Those are just overgrown rocks.” She sat up and dug around in her suit pocket. “Oh! Speaking of which—happy suit certification day!”
She handed him a small plastic box. Michael opened it carefully. Inside was a small black rock sitting on a three-pronged stand. The surface of the rock was covered with glittering white veins, like an intricate spiderweb.
“So I know that rocks from the Belt are really the most touristy thing ever . . . ,” Lilith said.
He picked up the rock. It was surprisingly light. “I’ve never seen one like this.”
“I know, right? It’s volcanic. There’s a theory that asteroids like this were once a part of Mars.”
“I’ve never heard that.”
“Okay, well, it’s my theory,” she said. “Anyway, maybe someday you’ll discover an actual Martian volcano and you can start a collection or something.”
“There haven’t been any active volcanos on Mars for—”
“Michael.”
“Sorry,” he said. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
For a long time, neither one of them spoke. Michael ran his gloves through the sand, searching for chunks of carbon dioxide ice and then squeezing them in his fingers until they flashed into vapor. Just like him, he thought. Apply a little heat and pressure, and suddenly there’s nothing left.
In the Red Page 5
