The Man Who Sold Mars

by K Anderson Yancy

  * * * * *

  One day after we’d . . . you know . . . after. Selena, glowing, sat up looking at me while Tot took her in her arms, her hands on Selena’s very pregnant belly glanced at me. Selena looking guilty. Tot appraising me. They reached for their grape juice in wine glasses and I knew something was coming.

  Mischievous Tot said, “You know on Mars a man can have two wives.”

  People can’t get married on Mars.

  Selena asked, “Why not?”

  Tot held her closer, “Yeah, why not?”

  Selena grinned, “You’re going to be President of Mars soon.”

  There it was. I said the only thing I could. “Wait. Long range scanners indicate a Klingon war bird decloaking. Photon torpedoes armed. I have to go repulse this attack. Then I’m coming right back to Earth.”

  They laughed and Tot said, “We’re serious.”

  “I am too.” Their humor started to fade. “It’s not that. My girlfriend is living with my fiancé and they are saying I should marry them both.”

  Tot started to speak. I shhhhseeed her. “Hush love. Selena, I asked you to marry me first. Are you—“

  Selena in Tot’s arms beamed and she took Tot’s hand and kissed it. “It was my idea.”

  I couldn’t do it. “I can’t marry you.” They were saddened at my words. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is as the President of Mars we will marry each other.”

  So in love they glowed.

  Selena smiled, “Hemmingson’s going to be happy too.”

  “Oh know. I have to marry him too?”

  We laughed.

  Tot said, “He said if we married he was marrying his princessas.”

  I laughed.

  At once they both asked “What?”

  “Marriage may soon be the chief industry of Mars. I could probably fund another mission off of them alone.”

  We laughed.

  Selena said, “So?”

  Followed by Tot’s, “So?”

  I asked, “Soooooo?”

  Selena asked, “Are we marrying?

  I said, “People are going to talk.”

  Tot said, “They have from the beginning.”

  Selena answered, “It doesn’t matter to us.”

  “I only asked, just to know, if you two were OK.

  Excited in unison they said, “Stephennnnnnn—”

  The look on my face silenced them. Just then I heard the sirens voices and stopped and dwelt on them.

  Selena recognized the look on my face. “You hear them. Don’t you?”

  I shook my head yes.

  Tot asked, “Hear what?”

  “The sirens of my dreams.”

  Selena’s eyes widened. “They’re real.”

  “They’re you and you.” I laughed and in love my loves watched me have my epiphany. “The two sirens calling this Ulysses to shore since I was a little boy were you two all alone.” I smiled and wiped away a tear. “And had I not set out on this journey we would not be where we are. I want to do this right, so . . .”

  So, the next day Selena and Tot looking elegant sat at dinner fit for two princesses and I in my finest space suit sat with my orange mush and Tang and we asked one another to marry.

  * * * * *

  “What were you out of your mind?!”

  “Mike, I thought you wanted to marry your princesses.”

  “I do. But the Brotherhood is going to declare you Public Enemy Number 1. You proposed to your fiancés over subspace radio and you’re going to marry them when you’re on Mars and they’re on Earth. No man will ever have a valid reason for not getting married. You will be the Sisterhood’s universal answer. “I’m sorry baby, I can’t get married because my life’s not stable enough.” What about that man who went to Mars? Gone for three years, got married one year out.” “Ahhh I can’t get married because my company’s transferring me to Detroit.” “What about that man who went to Mars? Detroit’s still on this planet. Mars is 54.6 million kilometers to about 401 million km depending on the day. Detroit is only a few thousand kilometers away every day.””

  I laughed. “What about you?”

  “I’m just your garden variety polygamist. There’s nothing special about me. But you my friend. Stephen, men will hate you.”

  I laughed again.

  And Mike continued, “I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing, each of us marrying two women. Every now and then men pass laws to protect men. You’re out voted when you have just one wife. Two has got to be something unnatural. But I’m going to love it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Oh Stephen! I don’t want to be married by the President of Mars. I want it special.”

  “How?” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I want the emperor of Mars.”

  I laughed. “So I have to promote myself after my wedding.”

  We both exploded with laughter.

  * * * * *

  I became a dad. I was in the operating room the entre time via cam watching Selena beautiful and so very tired, with Tatyana, beautiful and energized, who was with her during the entire delivery, as she gave birth to our son.

  It was the happiest and saddest day of my life. I should have been there. I will be for the next onessssss.

  I was so far out that the delay between transmitting and receipt was about sixteen minutes. So talking was becoming more difficult, but not communicating for love speaks volumes in silence.

  Wiping away tears, I apologized. “I am so sorry. I’m not there. I will be for the next. And, I’m sorry to tell you ladies this, but you will spend a significant portion of your life pregnant. No is not an option. That’s a promise.”

  They were so happy.

  * * * * *

  His two moms had not picked a name for him. Before he was born I used up the only veto I knew I would ever be allowed in our marriage and vetoed their first choice, Stephen Young, Jr. Given all that was connected with the name for better and for worse, I wanted him to have his own identity and his own name. And given that, we opted for the traditional approach of naming the child a week after he was born to see what name best fit him.

  “You don’t like his name?” Selena’s sorrow was heart wrenching and the saddened look on Tot’s face mirrored hers.

  I smiled. “I couldn’t hear it. There’s a lot of static. Solar flares. Please say it again.” This time the com delay worked in my favor and the sixteen minute delay was a blessing, giving me time to think. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the baby’s name—names. I was just surprised. Selena going to her Latin heritage decided he should have five names and Tatyana going to her Russian heritage insured they would be looooooong. Our son would earn his Ph. D. before he learned to spell all his names.

  “Oh. That’s his name. I love them. Come closer to the cam.”

  They did and I kissed all three.

  Their smiles and the distance brought tears to my eyes.

  * * * * *

  His christening was beautiful and a mixture of Roman Catholic and Russian Orthodox religions. Again, I was missing another important day and it made me sad.

  Thinking of all the family things we would do made me feel better and I thought how much he was going to love Christmas season, with Catholic Christmas being December 25, the Spanish Three Kings Day’s January 6, and the Russian Orthodox Christmas is January 7.

  * * * * *

  Stern, George glanced at me from the monitor. “I have some good news and bad news about my mission. The first is that with just a few minor design modifications we’ve made the engines of the Mars Transit Vehicle infinitely more powerful. Which means we may arrive as early as four to six months before your scheduled departure date. We’re still making strides with the propulsion system.”

  “Is that because of you?”

  “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies. Not so much that I wanted to beat the stolen Prometheus. Which I will, but you’ve been alone long enough.”
<
br />   “Thank you. What’s the bad news?”

  “Once your fiancés found that out. My mission became theirs.”

  We laughed.

  “Are they really coming?”

  “Yes. Don’t tell them I told you.”

  “I won’t. What about the baby?”

  “That’s complicated. Some of the doctors seem to think that given the buoyant state the child exists in for nine months, it may be more suitable for space travel than we are. Takeoff is another story, but given a child’s muscular and structural systems at that age, there should be no problem. Plus with the artificial gravity in the nursery aka Crew quarters, the child won’t be deprived of gravity.”

  “George, are they sure?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I need to research this more. The baby may have to stay behind with a nanny and uncle Hemmingson’s tribe unless they can convince me its safe.” I laughed.

  “What?!”

  “Funny. We may end up being the “Earth Family Young””

  “Colonization will happen ultimately. But I don’t think that’s their plan. Very early in the development of YSR we played with the idea of sending an earlier unstaffed MTV to Mars to orbit her and be available as a safe haven for a mission having difficulties with their own. We are going to launch two MTV’s as a part of our mission.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yes. You will ride one back. The Patricia and Catherine Luce will be given a major overhaul, restocked with food, water, oxygen, etcetera and left as a memorial and rescue ship for any in need of it.”

  “Selena—“

  “No, that was my idea and gift to her and my friends.”

  “It made her happy.”

  “Stephen, unbelievably. They’re training hard. I think their plan is to descend on you like aliens on Roswell, New Mexico; whisk you back to the mother ship; and take you back to the home world as soon as they arrive.”

  We laughed hard.

  My friends made my voyage much easier than it could have been.

  34. This Eagle Has Landed

  In time, the launch and the applause faded to a vivid memory masked by the visits of my friends on my journey to The Red Planet and in the fire damaged exit bay, of Mars Lander 1, sitting on the surface of Mars, glistening in the predawn light, a brass plaque immaculately cleansed bore the inscription:

  The Evelyn & Robert Young

  Mars Lander 1

  I stood beside it, wearing my extra vehicular planetary exploration suit, proudly displaying the flag with Earth at its center and the flags of all nations surrounding it, and in my hands an even larger one, mounted on a pole to be planted on Mars, with the hope that a united people would utilize this world in peace for the benefit of all.

  On my chest, from a harness, the blue lapis urn filigreed with gold peeked out.

  With extreme pride, I looked around and grinned.

  I keyed a button on my suit and the door to the space ship opened exposing the panoramic beauty of Mars at dawn.

  In awe, I stood there and could only say, “Gorgeous.”

  I glanced down at the urn and touched it with great affection. “Mom, Dad, I told you I would take you with me. And, here we are.”

  I keyed another button to hear a rhythmic, filtered, beeping indicating my radio was transmitting and receiving.

  Ecstatic, grinning broader I announced to the world, back home. “Earth, Mars Lander Evelyn & Robert Young, here. I am on the porch. This Eagle has landed. By the time you receive this message, twenty or so minutes would have elapsed since “This man from the Planet Earth” would have first set foot upon Mars and came in peace for ALL mankind. Selena, Tot, I love you. Get ready. Today is our day.””

  I started to take a step, but stopped as a devious grin spread across, my face and I thought of that day in my yard following Neil Armstrong’s landing on the moon, when I was eight and my father was grilling and my mother was sheltering me while I played with my fleet of starships and added. ”Oh, and by the way . . . Gooooood luck Mr. Beacon!!!!!”

  I laughed to myself, grinned, and stepped out to meet the Martian dawn, to plant the flag of my home world, and marry my friend to his princesses, after first exchanging my vows with my loves and becoming man and wives.

  The End.

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  The Man Who Sold Mars is a work of fiction. Any similarity to individuals living or dead is purely coincidental. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

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  Copyright 2003-2012 by K. Anderson Yancy

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