«Unthankful»

11-25-2309

There are a lot of things for which I’m not grateful in my life. On day’s like this its  easy to forget to depreciate all those little things that make it a veritable hell.

I’m not thankful for my government, the United Territories of Earth. I’m not thankful for the economy or the nonchalant onslaught  of a new commercial holiday in the face of our monetary crisis. I’m not thankful for the SHO and the disease control centers or the pharmaceutical forces fighting them, and how I can’t get a clear answer who to side with on the subject of vaccination.

I’m not thankful for technology, and the competitive way it’s created. I’m not thankful for private enterprises racing head to head instead of working together to solve a common problem. I’m not thankful for inventors who stop making products for the consumer’s convenience, but because it makes a lot more money flow out of their pockets.

Furthermore, I’m not feeling very thankful for my father right now. He’s done plenty for me in the past and I’m probably just expecting too much of him, but I don’t feel like he’s been too helpful lately. I’m not happy for the bills and creditors that make it hard for me to get through to him.

Of course, I can always feel thankful for a important few things though, but I don’t need to wait for a random Thursday in autumn to express it; there are things I’m thankful for every day.

I’m thankful for the roof above my head and the bed under my back. I’m thankful for the food and water I’m given to survive each day. I’m thankful for the feeling of companionship and family I’ve felt for the entire time I’ve lived with the Magnate family. I’m thankful to have them here on Mars, my quite remotely disassociated home.

«Tumultuous Apathy»

11-20-2309

From a distance the cosmos stands still. Days and weeks pass at a time while little or nothing appears to change. But the Solar system rages on, and underneath a seemingly static surface, it thrashes and spasms violently. Economic turmoil and inconvenient plagues. Wildfire and meteor showers. Death and regeneration.

When I woke up, I immediately flipped open my antiquated  workstation from where I lay in bed. It sprang to life with renewed vigor, a needlessly complex reformatting was still treating the Z-140x as well as one would expect within the first week. All that mattered was that I could access a network again, and within seconds I was connecting to the Magnate family’s portal. Though Allan and Rikka’s terminals were silent, and Ploki was still asleep, his porti was downloading a large file, so there was a little latency in the sphere.

After sliding through the various social webs I keep a profile in, checking my multiple inboxes and even the dashboard control panel for this tlog, finding no new messages in each, I hovered purposelessly in the internet for a few moments, idly rapping my fingertips on the case of the computer. I’d hoped by then I would have at least received word back from Olympus Coast College about my application or student financial aid. Not knowing what else to do, I brought up a window from an interplanetary newsource, probably based on Earth. The stark headlines it launched at me in grim menacing boldface startled me at first.

– [FLU DEATH TOLLS IN THE UNITED TERRITORIES ESTIMATED AT 3,900] –

– [NEPTUNIAN PIRATES FAIL TO CAPTURE IONIAN CARGOSHIP SECOND TIME] –

– [TIPS TO SURVIVE BLACK FRIDAY AND SHOPPING BATTLEGROUNDS THIS HOLIDAY SEASON] –

Suddenly concerned for my health, and worried that all those months of not worrying weren’t going to pay off, I thumbed over the article. I truly detest the tricks these fear mongering, ad-savvy newsources use to optimize search results to generate some more hits each day. The report is contrary to the one just a couple of days ago which calculated deaths to be closer to 130, so I just figured they wanted to claim that all of the regular annual flu deaths had been attributed to the H1N1 virus. I closed the window before I could see how many of those confirmed deaths were on Mars, lest I become a victim of the pharmaceutical industry’s scare tactics.

The next window informed me pirates had been thwarted in their attempt to gain control of a ship leaving the orbit of Galatea. Either by coincidence or the attractiveness of the damn thing, it was the same ship hijacked last spring near those same waters. These marauders from the sixth moon of Neptune have reportedly captured over 50 vessels, and seemed to have a pretty good reputation until the Euxine Carolina was rescued by UT marines earlier this year. This time, the enhanced security placed onboard the hundred-ton spacefreighter was able to resolve any issue before it even developed into one.

I didn’t care about holiday bloodbaths or a house with a bunch of dead people in it. I couldn’t be compelled to look too deep into the stories reported by the Ganymedean newsource or an associated feed I’d brought up in the background while I digested these either. I really didn’t care about Earth’s prison camp or the election being gorked up on Ceres, or any of the other news they don‘t often openly address in Earth media. I’m usually enthralled with that sort of stuff.

I brought SpaceBook, my main social network, back into focus and updated my status to something disparaging to human nature for letting the media get so commercial, and closed my clunky old porti.

As if stirred by a ripple in a pond, Ploki Magnate rolled over in his bed. As he rested, he’d probably been able to sense so many similar, relatively tiny waves just and slept right through it. But a rock being thrown into the pond from so close may have felt like a surge against the barriers of his constant digital stream. He sat up, rubbing the side of is head.

“Oh, good morning, Ploki,” I said, realizing I hadn’t actually spoken a word to anyone when my voice cracked. The name already sounded a little strange to the tongue since it was a throwback to old hacker slang from days when a keyboard similar mine would still have been used. It was the handle that he chose to go by in all of his social avenues, virtual or not.

“Morning,” he said, not looking up from the glow of the button already alight in his hands. It illuminated his sharp face and the accentuated Ganymedean features. If he had antennae or pointy ears I would have seen them in the wash of blue light, but his head was framed only by a short haircut and a little scruff of beard.  “What’s this about the news?” he asked me, responding to the notification that woke him.

“Huh? Oh, well ther-” I began before he cut me off, he’d obviously brought up the headlines.

“Pirates…prison camp…experiment demonstrates possibility of life in Centauri?” he read aloud, a questioning tone as he wondered if he’d already heard that somewhere.

I was rising off my futon bed and walking as I replied. “I think that whole thing’s a ruse to get more scientific funding for exploration,” I grumbled as I stepped into the kitchen to scrounge up something.

“So it’s better we don’t find life outside the Solar system? You’re so cynical, Klay.” He was beginning to wake and warm up, getting out of bed only to settle into his computer chair.

I spoke to him over the kitchen counter, his workstation setup just on the other side. Anyone who used this kitchen couldn’t help but feel watched if he was seated there, though his eyes hardly rose from his screen. “No, I just think it’s going to be a huge bust if it turns out we went all the way there again and didn’t find anything … again,” there was little I came across in the fridge that screamed edible to me.

“Well it won’t be any bigger of a waste than if that money went to the defense budget,” his sleek porti connected to the portal the second he touched it, and in moments he was tangled in his various webs. “They got something like 700 bil for the military, just for a single year. That calculates to almost 2 billion a day.”

“Gork,” I exclaimed, slamming an unyielding cupboard. “Nothing’s looking appealing to me in here, wanna start the vaporizer?”

He glanced at the time and yelled “Fire it up!”

«←→»

Hunger was of the few things that could involuntarily force someone out into the big, scary world; and even then there are the options of fast food, take-out and delivery services to minimize a given human’s exposure to the outside as much as possible.

Ploki and I trod along the broad walkways of Newport’s Style Isle. Fashioned by The Caspian Company after a cookie-cutter Ionian Mission, it was a way to disguise their corporate headquarters as an outdoor shopping mall and gain a little extra revenue. It’s not actually an island, just a small mesa overlooking the Amazonian Ocean, and was used by natives in the past for their jamborees. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see it twinkling like a thousand diamonds in the midday light, beyond the rows of fancy crawlers, oily parking spaces and pristine, artificial palm trees.

I used to work here. Tucked away in the digital media section of Style Isle’s outdated bookstore, I toiled the first year I lived on Mars. The commute to Newport from Fender was treacherous at the least, a whole 30 minutes. It was enough to make the job feel not worth it to me, spending the entirety of my only raise on the fuel it took just to get to work late every day.

We wove amongst the flow of shoppers, consisting mostly of wealthy women who didn’t need to be making any more money. It always felt a little strange, walking amongst the same people I used to serve, calmly passing them decked out in their most splendid weekday attire. From the hottest trends off the runways in Mihr Patera to soft velour sweat suits encrusted in rhinestones. Large embellished sunglasses, gaudy jewelry and any number of insanely eye-catching accessories glinted and dangled in the red sun.

Anything they could afford to distract or cover up the seams between cosmetic surgery and plastic treatments. Neck-tucks and antenna-removal scars can still be tricky to hide, and that’s where expensive bronze and ivory make-up assisted. They perfectly mimicked the exemplary mannequins, stiff in the windows beside them but so posh. I cringed to think what these reptiles would look like without any mods.

Just a few minutes there and I’d already seen  too many aged women showing off their new breasts and arms, many of which still needed some tightening and laser treatments to erase the damage of decades of sun exposure. Gray roots hid under platinum blonde, deep crows feet under cakes of eye shadow, and I’m sure I would have noticed the stench of death if it weren’t for the aroma of nail polish and hair products. I just wanted to find the cheapest place to grab a bite, then get the hell out of this commercial trap.

“I’m so excited for my appointment next week!” Ploki said, grinning ear to ear. “I’m going to get my license, and then my new toy will be completely legitimate,” there was so much glee behind his eyes as he said this.

“I just hopes it work’s out for you, it would suck if you were denied cause you didn’t qualify,” I pointed out, though that would be just as upsetting to all of us.

“Seriously,” he replied and winced with his blue eyes, tryinag not to imagine that possibility.

I turned to my Martian friend as we rounded a corner near the geyser fountain. “Hey, Ploki, can you look something up for me real quick?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, slid his button out of his pocket and unlocked the palm-held device. The flat, blue screen lit up in broad daylight, appearing a few inches above his hand.  It rested on a faint laser cone, projected from the solitary LED eye; simplicity was the only identifying feature of an AM-3Gi button. He called up a search application, and looked at me, asking “What do you need?”

“Gork, that was fast. Don’t you still have to connect to a network with that thing?”

“No, I canceled that basic service that came with it.” He pointed to his temple with his free hand, saying “I’ve been auged.”

“Ahh, now it makes sense, you are your own sphere,” I looked at him again as if I’d be able to see it’s sheen around him now. “That’s astro, I’d love to get a chip one day,” I said quietly.

The cyborg’s eyes locked on me in disbelief. “What? You haven’t been auged?” the question rang loud here, even outside. Any sort of alterations, whether internal or external, are regarded highly by those of status, and I’m sure any of the women who could afford a boost in confidence could pay an extra few thousand to have a little silicon implanted in their heads, too.

I looked around at no scowling faces or judging eyes, surprisingly. “No, what makes you think I have?”

“I totally thought you were. You don’t have extra memory in there?” he asked, genuinely amazed I hadn’t undergone any sort of capacity upgrade.

“No, not at all,” I said with as little pride as I could show these technophilic Newpsies.

“Huh, I could have sworn. Hmm…well I guess you just have a good memory then,” he said, adjusting to the idea of my head being emptier than his.

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment…especially coming from a machine,” I said facetiously.

He protested “Hey, I’m still mostly human!”

“Whatevs, Robot. Find me the cheapest food around,” I commanded.

He grumbled, and returned his gaze to the screen, manipulating the flattened beam that the browser was illustrated upon with the swish of his fingertips. He looked up, over to the other side of the food court we had just meandered into. “There. The pizza place has the lowest cost here,” he said at once.

“Wow, you found it that quick?” I said, astounded by his technology again.

“No, I just remembered,” he said with a grin, adding “Gorker.”

After we finished our two-dollar slices of pizza pie, and made our way back through the mess of grotesque human facsimiles, we found ourselves at his little, cerulean crawler. The two-door hatchback always reminded me of my elusive vehicle, though his wasn’t built on Ganymede.

His Saturnian-made Polaris was probably of a finer construction than my rodent. The interior had been optimized for comfort and visibility, so much so that even the HUD cowling had been displaced to the center of the dashboard, creating more storage areas.

At the press of the ignition switch, the engine whined and instruments illuminated with bright blue light, similar to the glow of the Ploki’s button, which now rested in a crèche on the center console. It supplied music from it’s harddrive to the entertainment system, and the driver or passenger could easily control media with the interface on either end.

We hurried home, where Allan waited for our return. He’d sequestered himself into his room, determined to make full use of his burgeoning class-load by doing everything he could to pass them all. Little had been seen of him, except when he needed transit to and from campus, or when there was a bi-weekly jam, or if Nymh had come over to lure him out, though she just as often did nothing to make him want to leave the room.

Similar could be said of the youngest of the Magnate siblings. Rikka was often out of the house since she was usually working one of her two jobs, and only appeared in sharp, semi-formal outfits when she was home from either, or on her way to an interview for a third. Attention seeking and a hypochondriac, she was currently fighting a bout with the deadly flu upstairs in her quarters, and no one could tell if she were actually sick or not.

I’d become good friends with Ploki over the previous weeks, finding similar interests was easy for us; or something like that. It could have been something to do with being the same age as me, or that he was easier to tolerate for an entire day than his often boisterous older brother. Perhaps it was because we had planned to move to that ski resort in Cyane this winter and had begun pre-roommate rituals of bonding. But it’s probably just because we both share the ground level of the house, he and I sleeping in the living room and family room, respectively.

We arrived back at his house in the mid-afternoon and immediately return to our positions in front of our workstations. Using some sort of control on his terminal, he remotely activated his brand new vaporizer, allowing it to warm up the 600 seconds so it will work properly. He then sent a message through the sphere to let Allan know he’d have about ten minutes to find a stopping point.

By force of habit, I brought up the newsources again with my renewed net connection, feeling warm with this novelty: the privilege of fresh information afforded only to those who have the technological means. By the look of the new banners, it seems healthcare reforms were stagnated by both sides of UT government, Earth’s new president visited Titan, and strife continued between warring factions on little Davidia.

A terrorist plot on another Earth skyscraper was foiled, a fusion plant in New Ganymede almost meltdown again and AM would probably release a new model of the button over the holidays. Students protested an increase in tuition rates at University of Mars campuses, a ferry crash in The Rings left 26 dead and the sequel to that stupid teenage-heartthrob-vampire movie broke box office records this weekend.

I closed all the windows at once and brought up one of my bookmarked links: a streaming, real-time image of the star Sol. I zoomed in partway, only until I spotted the well recognizable shapes of the gas giants, the thin haze of asteroid belts and the glint off the terrestrial worlds orbiting close the yellow main-sequence star. If it weren’t for a ticker running the time at the bottom you would have sworn it was just a still image, captured by a traveler from some rocket’s window.

I attempted to imagine for a moment that I was peering out of that porthole at the static but majestic view. I tried to picture myself away from any apprehensions of holidays, pirates, finances or vaccinations. It wasn’t working.

I collapsed the screen of the outdated porti. “Hey Ploki,” I called as I stood up, “I’m getting Allan whether that machine of yours is ready or not.”

«The New Martian Dream»

09-15-2309

The night’s air was crisp, the breeze warm and dry, breathing through my clothes instead of humidly pasting them to my skin. I struck the lighter I’d slipped past security and lit a cigarette. I puffed it happily into the crystal clear evening as I stood on the arrival curb of the spaceport with my possessions.

I had just been anxiously awaiting them at the baggage claim, worried they’d never make it to the luggage carousel intact. I was afraid of losing the few belongings I could be sure I still owned, and even more nervous about checking the guitar, whether it was in a spaceworthy titanium case or not. Fortunately my luggage arrived without a scratch, the only marks were the one’s I’d made to personalize them; matching the symbol tattooed to my left wrist. Satisfied, I turned to wait for my ride.

Shayne Lynoir pulled up a few minutes later in the silver 2-door she’d just driven to Mars in last week. In the few day’s she’d been here, I could tell that she’d began to adapt well, but still wasn’t used to all the little differences yet. She cautiously pulled out onto the closest freeway and headed us towards Olympus county, following directions from the navi fixed to her windshield.

“How are you liking living here so far?” I asked as I stared up at a sky filled with so much light, purely endemic to the Martian atmosphere.

“Oh it’s great. I’ve been smoking the best since I was in Omstel, way better than anything we found on Earth,” which I knew she’d say. “I’ve had a date with that girl I was looking forward to seeing. Uhm…I went to a strip club last night, Klay!”

“Wow, one week and Mars is already treating you right. You’re perfectly aware it’s all a trap, right?” I wouldn’t want her thinking the place was always this awesome.

“Yeah, I know. It does seem too good to be true, so I won’t be surprised when the bottom falls out. But I’m not worried, I’ve got two fellowships to pay for school. And in half a year I’ll have my Martian residence…and you know what that means,” she said with a devilish grin.

“Of course, Shayne, it’s the reason that at least half the people that come here still haven’t left yet. It’s why I came back. This is the land of opportunity, the gorkin’ Martian Dream was made real again. Now it’s the New Martian Dream: come to Mars, become a resident, and get a license to possess and grow,” being back had obviously inspired me already.

“Uhm. Kinda sounds like the old one…just without the whole movie business and stardom thing,” she pointed out, facetiously.

“Ok, fine. And this one’s a lot more like the first dream..you know, that whole gold rush thing,” I admitted.

“I thought you once said the first dream was that the planet was inhabited by Amazons,” she would remember me mentioning a thing like Amazons.

“Haha, it was the Ionians who thought that before they ever made landfall. I don’t think the Martian Dream existed until after Earthlings settled here, it’s sort of an evolution on their dream…or bastardization if you would,” I was starting to spill my rhetoric on the subject. “Their dream—our dream; whatever. We’re still Earthlings, after all.”

“And we can never really be Martians, anyway,” she reminded. “But I am looking forward to being called a Marsling,” she said with a wide grin, her imagination reeling on all the possibilities the future held for her. She snapped back into attention when the navi spout out the next direction in that robotic female voice.

We pulled into Allan’s complex, a cookie cutter community created by the Caspian Company. The large, bold letters and stylized directory maps at each of the entrances usually give it away, but if you were as familiar as I am to the area, you’d know to just assume they built it unless it wasn’t identical to everything else in a 20 mile radius.

Inside his mass produced housing unit, Allan sat downstairs with Nymh and Rei, watching a movie on his brother’s wide screen workstation.

“Ahoy, hoy!”

“Klayed!” the half-Martian, half-Saturnian toddler shouted as I slipped in the front door, leaving my suitcase, guitarcase and carry-on in the entrance way to give hugs.

“Hey, Rei. How have you been?” I asked, addressing her more as a peer than a 3-year-old. She turned away shyly, dumbstruck and speechless though she’d asked for me every single day of summer.

“Aww, Rei. Your boyfriend’s back,” Nymh joked, which made her daughter even more bashful, burying her face in my shoulder.

“What’s up, guys?” I asked as I set her back down and received hugs from my long lost friends.

“Not much, brutha! How are you doin?” Allan inquired, excited to see his buddy again.

“Oh, it feel so good to be back,” I said patting his shoulder. “Well, actually…there’s one thing…” I said, turning my eyes to the front door as if to initiate a crawler party.

“Back porch,” Allan said, understanding my request, though his answer confused me.

“Really?” I couldn’t believe they’d ever think a spot was more comfortable than the cabin of Allan’s vehicle.

“Yeah, go ahead, Lane, it’s already outside. I’ll be there to S-M-O-K-E with you in a second,” Nymh spelled out so her daughter wouldn’t be able to understand.

“You sure you don’t want me to watch her for a little while,” Allan asked his lovi in a saccharin voice.

“No, no. Go on, baby,” the Tethean said, giving him a kiss before he joined me on the back porch.

“So what’s your plan?” he asked, wasting no time to get to business as I packed the glass full of fire.

“I have no idea yet, actually. It was such a struggle for me just to get back here…I really didn’t think any further ahead than this part,” I admitted, indicating to the pipe in my hand. He nodded, seeming to expect as much but shrugging cause he knew he’d have done no better. “Would it be alright if I crashed here for a little while?”

“Well it’s a little packed now. My sister never moved out, and my brother, Ploki, came back from Eris and doesn’t even have a room anymore. Also, with Nymh and Rei spending the nights here often, and Rikka’s lovi sleeping over all the time, it’s a full house,” he explained.

“I understand, well that’s ok. Shanye did say I could stay with her a little while if I wanted,” I didn’t want to mention it wasn’t too big of a deal because I’d probably be moving back to Earth before spring anyway.

“I’ll see what I can do though. If I find some room I’m sure my parent’s won’t mind you being here a few days, they did miss you too,” he said, lighting a cigarette impatiently while I took my time to finish packing the bowl.

“Thanks, bro, I appreciate it,” I was genuinely relieved someone on this planet had a heart. Though it wasn’t even my weed, I offered him greens out of gratitude. He shook his head to turn it down.

“Go ahead,” he waved, though I was reluctant to take it. “Welcome back to Mars, Mr. Lane,” he announced, handing me a lighter.

I nodded in appreciation and struck the lighter, focusing it’s flame on the leafy green and purple material packed into the chamber as I inhaled it’s milky goodness deep into my lungs. I felt a tingle emerge instantly, fluttering through my chest and head and easing everything it touched before I exhaled a plume of smoke into the open Martian night, the divine flavor I’d longed for most of the summer lingering on my tongue and lips. I smiled and closed my eyes, relishing the moment.

This is it: The New Martian Dream. How sweet it tastes.

«Summer Fling»

09-13-2309

I woke in a large soft bed, snuggled up beside a rare beauty. Koi stirred softly in my arms as I got up, yawning and blinking slowly, her big, doey eyes locking on mine.

“Mmmm. What are you thinking?” she asked with a smile, closing her eyes again.

I’ve always hated that question, but I smiled and chuckled, not really able to give an appropriate answer. I kissed her on the nose and said “Nothing, really,” as I tightened my embrace and nestled back into sleep.

A couple of weeks ago, the only thing I knew about her was that she was from Mars, since we’d had a lengthy discussion about it that first night when I’d met her. I figured she was a Marsling, though she looked as if she may have a little Martian blood in her. She was remarkable though, a look the likes of which I’d never seen. That small, angular frame, impeccably encased in the softest, bronze skin; those perfectly pursed lips, slightly pointed ears and the adorable button for a nose; her high cheekbones speckled with cute little freckles, making her large brown eyes even bigger and warmer.

After a week with no response, I figured I’d probably never see the gorgeous Koi Kidder again. Eager to take something positive from the experience, I thought fondly of her as a I prepared to write her off as an unresolved chapter in my life. Perhaps it was for the best, I thought. Maybe this way her character would remain pure, unwarped by the forces that pull at my life. Or at the very least, this way she would leave the story on a positive note, without me trying to dissect or criticize her.

The half-Titanian, half-Ganymedean finally got back to me when she sent out a mass message, apologizing to anyone who had been trying to get a hold of her, and claiming that her texti had been lost somewhere up north for the past week. I was too excited to hear from her to play it cool or aloof, but it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t going to try to turn this into conquest or victory, or worry about losing ground or influence over her; this was about two people who wanted to be together, not just trying to get something out of the other.

I attempted to make some interesting arrangements for the weekend, thinking I’d just take her sailing and maybe hang out somewhere in Chesapeake for the evening. Even though she was down for adventure, her schedule wasn’t, so I tried to find something nearby that would be worth while, I was so afraid of boring the classy girl. Somehow we ended up at the campus theatre in Nova City, slightly underdressed amongst the freaks and cultists lined up for the weekly Horror Show. I picked up a bottle of red and we went home for some sanguine delight.

Over the next week, I spent my time split evenly between catching up on my chronicling, hanging out with Rip and sleeping with Koi. I felt my time was being used productively though, whether I was adding a few dozen more pages to the file, playing a summers worth of video games with one of my bestis, or walking alongside a slender vixen on old paved streets and walkways. We always ended up somewhere rich with history it seemed, one night in Olde Town, the next across the river on the waterfront of Menesopolis. Out west, near where she and Rip each lived, we spent an evening on a Civil War battlefield, coincidentally visiting on the 147th anniversary of site. There were no spooks or spirits to be seen though, but what do you expect.

The next morning, I woke up with a new message from Koi waiting on my texti, saying she thought that I was postponing my return to Mars because of her, and that she didn’t want to keep me from my life. She suggested we not see each other until after I scheduled my flight, which seemed fair enough to me. I logged on to Zech’s terminal and found the cheapest spacefare before I thought about replying.

The earliest ship I could book passage on in my price range was embarking in almost a week. I confirmed the purchase and the balance was automatically deducted from my account. I sighed and sat back with a undeserved sense of accomplishment, creaking in what used to be my chair.

I ran my hands across the arm rests, feeling where he’d picked away the inner half of the plastic coating while bored, or impatiently waiting for one of his games to start. The yellow sponge-like foam that was revealed felt cold and moist to the touch,  leaving an unpleasant feeling on my fingertips. I got up to begin packing my bag, leaving my phone behind in my old room while I collected the rest of my possessions.

With all but one of the items I planned to take back with me to the bright, red world properly smooshed into my luggage, and resolving to dress out of the suitcase for the next 5 days, I went on a hunt for something to fit the other thing in. It’s not easy to throw a delicate, wooden guitar into a duffle-bag, so I racked my brains for any idea I could.

I had owned a guitar case at one point in time, but I had no idea if it would fit this, or any instrument. Back then I’d used the case the transport a four-footer given to me by an old co-worker; a purple acrylic monstrosity which took at least two people to operate. A consistently intense device, I recall blacking out one of the first times I used it, coming to on the floor in a puddle of drool and bong water and my friends cheering. The novelty size smoking utensil had been tucked away in storage closet, somewhere deep in Rip Gozo’s basement for the past 3 years. I hoped it was still there as I looked up his mom in my phonebook, knowing if I called her I’d have to visit her, whether she had what I needed or not.

It was still where I’d left it, luckily. The black case was ready for me on the landing, along with its molded plastic contents, covered in years of neglect. I caught up with Rip’s mom, updating her on my current situation and plans for the immediate future while Koi and I played with her new puppy.

“What about my son, is he ever going to get his driver’s license and become a productive member of society?” she asked in her most worried, demanding tone.

“He’ll be driving before you know it,” I said, half uncertain of my own words and realizing I’d probably spoke those same ones before. I smirked and felt more confident in adding “I don’t know if he’ll ever be a a productive member of society, though.”

“Well I can only ask for so much. He will at least be independent one day, right?” a thick New Tros accent still cut through all the years she hadn’t lived there.

“Of course he will, Din. Your son’s got talent and tenacity, I think he just has too much free time on his hands,” I took a second to scratch behind the dogs ears, her leg flapping on Koi’s lap. “He just needs to have a writing project that pays off, or work on his music career until he has a product,” the words seemed almost too familiar for some reason. “You know, I really shouldn’t be speaking for him…heavens know I’m more useless than he is. At least Rip’s kept the same job since I left 3 years ago.”

“Hey Klay, I don’t mean to cut you short, but we should really be going,” Koi insisted, furrowing her eyebrows as if to say ‘let’s smoke’. I took the hint without any hesitation and stood up.

“I’m sorry Din, but Koi’s right. I’ve got plenty to do still and I don’t have much time left on Earth,” I said as I inched myself towards the door.

“Alright, well be good. And tell my son, Ripton, to practice driving once in a while and be more productive,” she requested as if I were his handler, and gave Koi and I each a good hug.

“Even with him not living here with you anymore, I’m pretty sure you communicate more frequently with him than I do,” I admitted, stepping out of the front doorway with a hard case in my hand.

“Well, whatever,” she said, trying to sound cool. She shouted her superstitious blessing “Don’t talk to the pilot!” as she waved goodbye to us, Koi glancing at me with confusion.

“It’s just something their family says…kinda like ‘break a leg’, you know?” I tried to explain as I stowed the case in her cargo hold.

“Oh I see..” she seemed to understand, but her ever unsure voice always made me wonder if she really did.

We had two more stops to make before the night was through. First was just a quick one to my friend Gear’s house. Gearadot Haze, good friend since grade school, was currently on Mars, staying up north with a couple of friends from high school who also graduated college with him earlier this summer. I was actually supposed to cross paths with him somewhere on Luna, while he was hitching in the opposite direction, but I missed him when he caught a long ride through, right past the little town of Saline where we stayed that first near-fatal night. His parents wanted to send with me a few things he’d be needing, like a couple charge cards with the access keys and some other envelope I never bothered to peek in. As I left, the Hazes wished me a safe trip and, for the second time that night, I was asked to look after someone’s son.

Only one more thing to scratch off the list now: to visit my little brother’s ex-lovi, Nuggy, and her narcoleptic, lesbian, ex-stripper roommate. If there was anyone I knew who could appreciate and take care of a purple four-footer, it was that pair. When Mink went back to school, the girls’ living room became the new chill spot for my brother and I, and we’d spent many of the last days of summer vegging out in front of their screen. There was no marathon staring tonight though, just quick bowls and quick goodbyes, lest I be enlisted to be someone else’s guardian. With all my needs satisfied, we headed back out west to Koi’s house.

“What should we do now?” I asked, hoping the answer would involve sex, smoke or stargazing.

“I’m so tired,” she said without having to force a yawn. “I just wanna take a nap real quick, then we can do whatever you want.”

“That sounds good, I think we need to wait a couple hours, anyway,” I was searching the sky. “I don’t even think the moon’s out yet.”

“Well then, we should definitely nap until it is,” she smiled.

For our final escapade, I’d wanted to show her something special: her own world. I’d brought a simple telescope with me, a gift from Linda’s father a few years ago when he felt I might be homesick for Earth, so I’d never feel too far from my home. I’d intended to use it during the road trip, on the moon’s clear night skies, but the first night we were too excited just being alive still to bother setting it up, and there was too much atmospheric interference each of the other nights. From Earth, Luna and Mars were to be sharing the same sky that night, whenever they got around to rising. I thought it would be interesting to show her where she was born, and see the path I’d soon be taking myself–but it never happened. Instead, after tiring ourselves out even more, we passed out until it was almost morning.

As the sun’s golden light began to pierce the blinds, I woke up in Koi’s bed, our naked bodies pressed against each other.  We peeled apart like two pieces of the same fruit and she rolled over, her dreamlike eyes dazily fluttering open as she smiled, silently wishing me a good morning before closing, snuggling up to me again. I gazed at her affectionately, my insides welling up with the want to tell her I loved her. Who knows if I actually did, but I always seemed like I should tell it to her anytime I felt that warm happiness I got from looking at her. I always caught myself though, reasoning that it was all chemical, and I’d be excited to have any attractive girl to stare at. I also had to remind myself, if I were to say it, it would ruin any future friendship or relationship we could have–or worse: become a long distance relationship. I had no desire to ruin the good run we’d enjoyed, or treat myself to a sub-par sequel, so I bit my lip kept my feelings to myself.

“What are you thinking?” she asked, knowing I was staring at her again without even opening her eyes.

“Nothing,” it pained me to say. “Nothing at all, go back to sleep,” I whispered, kissing her forehead and relaxing back into my pillow.

I still wonder what it would it would have been like if I’d said ‘I Love You’.

«Still Stuck on Earth»

08-16-2309

Why am I here?

Still just waiting to go back to Mars at this point, it seems. It’s almost the end of August and I’m still exactly where I was a month ago. At the very latest, I was supposed to go back at the beginning of this month, that way if I couldn’t get the money to Witt for rent, I could at least get my stuff out of that apartment before she had a new tenant move in.

That didn’t work out, and now I’m trapped here it seems. I get to say goodbye to all my friends that have kept me happy here on Earth in my plight. Everyone getting on with their responsibilities, taking no longer than a month or two to get the jitters out and back to school or off to work again. All the guys I got to hang out with and all the girls I was hooking up with all summer have retreated back to their lives.

It’s been getting awfully lonely without anyone to play with. There was one girl I had hopes of working things out with, but she disappeared as suddenly as I met her. She’d come to one of my brother’s friend’s parties, knowing fewer people there than I did, and stood out immediately. The beauty from Mars struck me dead in my tracks, her petite frame wrapped in a tight, leggy dress–all the way up to her big, doey eyes.

She complained about feeling like the oldest person at the party, a notion I was well familiar with. I realized quickly that we were actually the oldest people present, or at least I was. She and Shayne were both tied for 21, and together we formed the elders of this shindig, and made our own little clique away from the racket. Actually, I would have never hit it off with the vixen if Shayne hadn’t been trying to hit on her.

Though Shayne thought she had this one wrapped up in the bag, I still managed to get her number, and prove that she was straight. I had hoped that if I was going to be stuck on Earth, I might be able to spend that time with an attractive girl I could vibe with. Unfortunately, it looked like no such look for me, as she never responded to any messages or calls. With Shayne taking off to move to Mars in the next week or two, it looked like I was going to be on Earth without any friends.

Also, it definitely looks like I’ve lost the what I have to return to there. My roommate seems to have gotten my replacement lined up, as Allan’s had to do me the favor of getting my possessions from my old place in the small increments she’s let him take without seeing any money from me yet. I don’t really know what I’ll be going back to when I free myself from my Earthly bonds.

I need to go back to Mars, but I’m getting more nervous about it each day that I’m away. The anxiety is near palpable, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m not better off here. I guess the only way to find out is to go back, but who knows when that will ever happen.

«Back Home»

07-06-2309

I’m home, I’m home!

After two long weeks, I’m finally home. Well, I’ve been home for a little while now, but there was plenty of recovery necessary. It’s actually been over a month now since I left my quiet home on Mars. I’ll just sum up the past few weeks quickly for you, none of the verbose detail of the past entries.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, spare a wet fiasco with part of the large aft hatch that wouldn’t stay closed during some rain we drove through, nothing that important, though. Ok, so the interior lights won’t turn of now, big deal, at least it doesn’t drain the beast’s battery every time we turn her on.

I spent the first week in Mink’s basement getting high, or out at the bar drinking with him; anything we could do to stave off sobriety another moment. Any form of altered state would suffice, this was our homeostasis for now. We asked ourselves why we couldn’t just go back to that paradise, or at least bring it’s irregular traditions back to the real world. There were no wake and bakes or early evening doses here.

I got a chance to go sailing that weekend, just my brother and I with my dad, out riding in the solar wind on his 38-footer. I had to reveal my tattoo to my father rather quickly, lest he notice it then I took the gloves off in between course adjustments. He didn’t seem too surprised by it, which is just as well since I assumed he’d seen it online beforehand. He just gave me the “You’re a free, white, Earthling over 21–you can do whatever you want,” speech, which was a relief when learned I smoked cigarettes sometime after that.

It was nice to be in my old house again, even though my brother acquired my room a long time ago, and the cats had acquired his. He had had to drop off all three at a shelter not too long ago, being unable to find a single person who could take care of any one of them. It was certainly upsetting, and something I still haven’t gotten used to; I still hear small thuds and mews when the house is empty, and any dark object on the ground–from a backpack to a watering can or a pair of boots–takes on feline qualities in the corners of my eyes.

Before they departed, my orange cat had left a present for my brother one day, rendering his mattress unusable if he couldn’t adapt to the smell of ammonia and saline. So he took my old bed in my absence, leaving me to rest on an unheavenly uncomfortable, inflatable mattress. More of a slip-and-slide, or plain old death trap if you ask me. The second weekend when Leona came to visit me, it proved near fatal.

She had driven down from New Tros with a co-worker named Ann to stay with me the weekend. We’d been keeping a strong correspondence since we had left the festival, and on such good terms, I had been looking forward to seeing my Earthling buddy this summer.

Sparks certainly flew when we saw each other, the friction of two like minds coming together with a similar goal. And every single tiny movement was amplified with the warping and squeaking of the terrible latex bedding, especially dangerous with Ann, sleeping on the floor of the same room. It was going to be an unfortunate evening for someone.

The next day we took the metro hoverrail into the capitol, apparently to join in the protest of a clean energy bill that wasn’t good enough for our needs. It was fun getting to carry around signs and wear green hardhats, but we weren’t entirely dedicated to the peaceful protest, or all the rules placed against it by the multitude of police and security surrounding the legislative buildings. We broke off when it was most convenient for us and wandered to the mall and the museums.

We visited two of the major ones, particularly both of my favorites. First, the Air and Space museum, where all manner of rocket and ship were on display, from the beginning of astronautics to modern day prototypes. I guided them through my most nostalgic spots, interesting to see how much smaller it all seemed to me now that I wasn’t holding onto my father’s hand.

The Natural History museum was our next stop, the giant mammoth that greets you in the main atrium definitely not appearing so gargantuan anymore. We explored a few areas of this museum I’d never remembered wandering before, particularly the mammals and the ancient sea exhibits, comparing the evolution of different types of similar animals on different worlds of our solar system.

We also spent a long time wandering through the gem and mineral showcase, until which I’d never placed much credence in crystal power. I never remember feeling that exhausted before, as if each cluster of amethyst and calcite, or the rainbow array of quartz each tapped a bit of energy as we passed them by. We called it a night soon afterwords, heading back to my little suburb and bidding farewell to Ann, who left to stay with a friend we’d met in the city rather than come home with us.

The next day we took a bit of a walking tour through my hometown, Vine, where I learned more about it than I’d ever previously known. On top of being founded on one of the most important routes to and from Menesopolis, it also acted as an important point for supplying the military effort in Earth’s civil war and both the solar wars. Also, it apparently used to be named Ayrhill, which would explain why every street in the old part of town are named after it.

One of the few landmarks Vine holds dear is the old red booster. A relic from the spaceport that used to pump life into the heart of this town, which is now a square of concrete and tarmac with rusted equipment and metal towers crumbling under the creepers that have weighed them down for decades. The industrial district contains no other remains besides this discarded first-stage booster, dolled up a little bit with a new shiny paint job. They still let you take a climb through it, the ancient wrought iron construction still reeking of oil and fuel.

That next week, after Leona had returned to New Tros,  someone else randomly came into town. Shayne Lynoir, the lesbian chemical biologist, was one of the nicer friends I had in high school. We’d begun to rehash things when she came out to visit Mars earlier this spring, seeing if she wanted to go to school at University Mars: Caspian. She had been on Adrastea for the summer, working some well paying chemistry job while she got to enjoy the sights of the canalous capital of Omstel.

She’d come home to Earth for a week to attend a funeral, so she was much relieved she could hang out with someone with whom she could share her new passion for the Fire of Jove. She went into detail about all the hi-grade cultivars she’d been privilege to, some of which I’d known from my new home, others of which I’d never even heard of. She had decided she would definitely choose UMC and a life on Mars over the peace corps or a Jovian school, excited to take advantage of the legality of the green medicine and become a rockstar chemist.

The third weekend I was back was the weekend of independence day. Leona came down from New Tros again, and this time Brick also came up from Carolina the day before, when we had a few drinks to celebrate his 21st birthday that I‘d missed since I last saw him. It was great seeing how my companions from the road trip were faring, and it would be fun to celebrate our world’s independence from Ganymede with friends from both my worlds.

I took them sailing the morning of the 4th. Along with my brother and a slew of his friends, we set out from a small port up in Chesapeake where my dad keeps his black-trimmed ship harbored. My brother and I manned the sails mostly while our friends got to enjoy the ride, taking a short tour out and around.

We had been maintaining a good clip for a short while when Zech got a mischievous idea. He had already felt the rush of invincibility when we hoisted him 40 feet upwards to repair one of the headsail lines that busted on our last jaunt. He got started putting a light suit on and finding a strong enough line, making for the aft.

“I’m gonna tie off and dive in,” he said with more confidence than I felt it was safe to have in space.

“Wait, what? I don’t think you…well…ok, I’ll get the camera,” I said, agreeing to the idea, but not sure if it was because I trusted him or if I liked the idea of something going wrong.

“To take pictures? That’s a good idea,” he said, securing his gauntlet like gloves to his sleeves.

“No, I’m gonna take a video, post you on the nets,” I snickered, turning on Leona’s clicki. “If this doesn’t get me a few hits on uScreen, I don’t know what will.”

“As long as you’re sure you’ll be fine,” our father said, making sure there was nothing ahead for a few thousand feet before locking the heading with the autopilot. “Just make sure you’ve got a life preserver ready on a line to give him, Klay,” he requested.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it,” I said patting blindly at it as I looked through the viewfinder. “Brick, Lazze, I want you guys on aft, ready to pull his rope in if he needs out.”

“Aye, aye,” Brick said, tightening a pair of gloves for grip.

I began filming. Zech secured the last lock on his helm and ran his thumb over a wristat built into the left gauntlet. He looked up, waved at the camera, and turned to wave at the rest of the people on board, I followed with my lens to get a shot of the audience before returning to my brother, leaning over to make sure his line was secure to a hard point on the ship, then snug it around his waist and looked to my dad for approval, who must have signaled him off camera. He dived off the back platform immediately.

At first he looked perfectly euphoric, simply tumbling weightless for a moment of bliss, I could see the glint of his smile through the visor. It disappeared suddenly as the rope pulled taught, jerking him violently towards us. He awkwardly struggled, flailing his arms as he tried to grab hold and swim back in.

“Get him out of there, now, start pulling, guys! Now!” my father barked. The other men began heaving him in while Zech crawled hand over hand up his end. I caught it all on camera, until he was back on board, threw his helmet off and was in my face.

“Why didn’t you throw the life preserver? I could have stayed out there if you did,” he was livid, and reasonably, I would be if I was just dangled off the back of a ship in outer space.

“Well somebody had to film it,” I said facetiously, still holding the clicki to my eye. When I saw he wasn’t amused, I switched it off and handed it off. “Dad wanted you back onboard and you already had a line secured to you. You think it would have been any easier to do it holding on to two ropes?”

“It might have made it easier to fight against the ship’s wake, I almost choked to death out there with the pressure,” he was still ready to hurt me.

“Or it might have made it harder to get you back in with even more resistance,” I tried to placate him, but he was upset. He calmed down eventually, but I could tell he was ready to push me off as soon as I wasn’t looking.

When we’d made it back to port we all split our separate ways. My brother had cooled down now, but he wouldn’t let me forget this for a while. Brick, Leona and I headed to their friends house nearby in Chesapeake, a part of the territory we referred to only as Fredneck.

We hadn’t arrived soon enough to get a good spot, or even find the park where everyone was set up to watch the large firework display, so we ended up watching it from the parking lot a nearby shopping center. The ecstatic incendiary devices tickled our senses for an extensive ceremony, filled with many new varieties I’d never seen blown up before.

The party afterwords was a lot of fun. I usually worry a bit about kickbacks I’m not familiar with more than a couple of people at, but I had a really good time with Brick’s friends from his Earth school. We drank, played pong and I played my music late into the night.

I bid farewell to each of them the next day, so glad we could get together again, and satisfied to finally have a sort of epilogue to the summer’s journey. I’ll glance back at this as the closing chapter of the road trip, and look forward to my next great adventure.

«The Road Trip – Day 6»

06-10-2309

“Don’t tell me we’re lost.”

“I’m not saying that at all, I simply said I don’t know where we are.”

“Brick, we’ve hardly known where we were this entire trip.”

“Yeah, but I’ve made most of this journey before. Everything until the past few days was the same exact route, and after then it’s at least been somewhat familiar. Today it’s entirely foreign,” he spoke as I looked around outside at trees that would have grown up where I did.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry; these directions aren’t telling me anything useful, either. How far do you think we are?” I asked trying to gauge the distance out of the time until we had to be there.

“I can’t begin to say. Either the mileage is wrong on the application, or the sign numbers are wrong on the freeway. It could be both, I don’t know,” he punctuated.

“Guesstimate?”

“Ugh…30 minutes or 13 minutes….or 17 minutes..the other way” he figured, all the while trying to decide if he should just turn around or not.

I beat the side of his PDA against my palm and said “I really wish I could get a signal with this thing. If it could just get on I could load a new map for us.”

“I guess we’ll just have to survive on our instincts…and hope there’s a sign for the spaceport,” he said spying into the distance ahead for flying rockets or contrail streaks.

“You’re right, and hope it comes up soon, or Leona won’t be too happy,” I put the PDA away as I dug in the console for a cigarette. I lifted the pack to offer one to him, but without a word he pulled one out and lit it, handing me his lighter, still silent. “I’m glad we’ve got that down to a science,” I admired as I lit my own cig and pocketed the lighter.

“Yeah, I’d say we’ve been trapped with each other long enough. We get to look back comically on parts of the trip that seem so far away now, but really happened earlier this week.”

I laughed out loud a moment before composing, “It certainly has felt like a long time.” I almost lost myself to a nostalgic mental tour.

“Remember when we were in Copernicus?”

“Hahaha……barely..” we both burst into laughter so hard that 75 miles an hour became dangerous to maintain. I almost missed the obvious sign, but shouted “Appalachia Spaceport, next right!”

“I see it. Wow, we may just be too high today.”

We got a late start this morning after sleeping in at his aunt’s house in Troutman. She had left early in the morning with her daughter, Brick’s cousin (no confusing family lines this time), so the house was ours all of the morning. We fucked off for a while, probably watching more TV than I had yet the entire trip. Although, we had been tuning into sports coverage each night, but I can hardly say that I was paying that much attention during any of those.

Ahh, well even this morning too, I guess. My attention was focused on dismantling two days worth of roaches on the coffee table. Until this last half of the journey, before we‘d stayed with two different sides of Brick‘s family, we’d been doing pretty well to reuse the day’s leftovers to create nice suppers for ourselves, sometimes mixing it with a little bit of tobacco for filler. Either way, it guaranteed a good bit of nightcap for each of us without having to dip into our daily rations. Plus, it’s already coated with resin by the time you recycle, people.

The Fire of Jove crackled along with the sizzling shreds of tobacco leaves out on the back porch. It probably didn’t need them, I know we had enough to smoke without it, but I wanted to start the day off large, so I rolled a good amount in along with the precious, sticky scraps. It took a good while to burn, during which we inspected each of the insects flying about for cautionary markings. Nothing as hazardous as a bee even bumbled by.

After removing the last of the laundry we‘d put into the dryer while smoking, we finished collecting everything we‘d need for the festival. The Martian, just packing enough for the weekend, left the possessions he brought for the rest of the summer in the room he’d be spending it in. I’d have left Eon’s stuff there too if I were catching a ride back through after it was over.

At this point though, we had traveled 15 minutes after discarding all previously established directions, trusting that the brown signs would just line up like bread crumbs.

“It’s been a minute since we saw the last sign.. You don’t think we missed one already, do you?” Brick had a familiar, unsure tone in the back of his throat.

“No, not unless it..” I saw a corner of brown and white peeking out of the trees. “It was just covered by an untrimmed branch,” I said, crestfallen.

“Huh?”

“Turn around, they just tried to hide it from us. Heavens, they must really not want us to find their spaceport. Who knows what madness must transit through there.”

“That’s a stupid thing to do, why wouldn’t they want to make that the slightest bit obvious? By the way, you’re definitely too high,” he deduced.

“Shut up, there’s a turn-off up here,” I pointed ahead.

It seemed it was a small enough spaceport from the entrance we drove in through. Before rolling under the structure of one of the concourses, I caught glimpse of just one ship taking off, some type of passenger ship; bright, polished silver with four nacelles, maybe a Perseus or a Theseus, but I couldn‘t make out anything that would tell me which. This port didn’t seem to have much incoming traffic either, but I may have only had a limited view. I probably just wasn’t paying attention.

I was distracted from my usual of pastime of staring up at all the ships departing and arriving, trying to lose the horizon so I’d be staring at an open sky filled only with flying craft. Instead I was peering as far as I could ahead to catch a glimpse of Leona, classmate and roommate of Brick.

I had looked her up online the morning before we had left Saline, back in the beginning of the journey. It had been quite a long week since I’d seen the pictures, but I was sure I’d be able to spot her from far off. Her profile only teased at how interesting she could be, and I couldn’t wait to meet her to find out.

Standing on the yellow striped curb with a full heap of luggage laid at her feet, the Earthling girl’s blonde hair caught wind in a gust from a nearby bus lifting off. Robotic skycaps hovered about in the background, some assisting people with their bags, others just floating idly by. Leona Crown waved when she and Brick recognized each other, smiling at us underneath her acrylic framed glasses.

Soon after helping her situate her things in the trunk, we were all seated again in the cabin, comfortable and on our way down the exit ramp already. Brick was still in the driver’s seat, and though I offered the front seat to Leona she opted not interrupt my navigation. We sparked the third to last joint shortly after getting back on the freeway, I handed it back to her.

“Sorry, no thanks,” she said, turning it down. I gave a look of disbelief until she reassured me, saying “Oh, no I’m just getting over a cold. Don’t worry, I’ll be smoking tons this weekend.”

“Alright, I understand,” I said as I redirected it to Brick, who took it as he peeked into his monitors. “That would of course never stop me from smoking, but I get it.” Things become blurry after he handed it back to me, I had saved a large one for the three of us. For some reason or another, I can’t remember the conversation very well until we were entering a Ionian-themed chain restaurant.

“M’Kay, Three. Smoking or Non?” asked the hostess behind the counter that took a good minute or two to assist. Baffled, Brick and I looked at each other and then to Leona.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that on the whole trip,” I stated to Brick as I turned back to the inattentive Neptunian-Earthling girl. “Smoking, please.”

We were seated in a rather open end of the restaurant for this time of day. When the salad was brought out by the unattractive waitress, who I still called ‘Hon’, I served it to my two companions first.

“Well, such a gentleman,” Leona remarked.

“Don’t get to excited, he’s been calling every waitress ‘Hon’ this entire trip,” Brick revealed. “He’ll clean up after we’re done too to make it easier on them.”

“Yeah, he’s right. It’s all part of my evil ploy; all just to give less of a tip,” I admitted. “More croutons, Dear?”

“Uhm..Yes, please,” she answered. “How do you and Brick know each other again?” she asked, either because I seemed so different from him, or from everyone she knew that he made friends with.

“Heh, well.. I moved to Mars to be closer to a girl who I met over a summer when she came to do this theater thing here on Earth. After a year of having a long distance relationship, I packed up and headed to Mars to awkwardly restart my life. And Brick had gone to high school with her and been friends a long time,” I paused to breathe. “When Linda and I broke up, you could say that I attained custody of Brick,” I said, pinching his cheek and making baby noises before he swatted me away.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he admitted. It really did seem like a permanent enough thing to warrant calling them ‘mommy and daddy’.”

“Especially towards the end,” I glared at him for a second.

“Why did you guys break up?” Leona asked innocently enough. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ask for your whole life story.”

“No it’s ok.. Well, she..” I started, then shot a glance to my legal counsel. My attorney’s face was stern and turned down; a definite ‘No’ seemed to slip out of his lips. “We were too close all the time, so much that we grew apart and needed our own space,” I said, relieved I didn’t have to go into the grimy details. “And that was over a year and a half ago, so I’m pretty sure the distance between that space will never get any smaller.” Brick nodded with approval, so I added “Especially after all that’s happened.”

“So–” the question started on her lips before she caught a glimpse of Brick’s expression, advising against it. She stopped mid-sentence.

“My attorney is right. We’re about to get our food and it’s hardly appropriate dinner table conversation. Maybe if you’re unlucky, I’ll regale you with the horror story one day. Until then, look what’s here,” I indicated to the food, which couldn’t have arrived at a better time.

After finishing the entire meal without even a glimpse of delicious breadsticks, our party and its newest member returned to our vehicle. Walking across the blacktop parking lot, I pulled the pack of menthols out of my pocket and offered one to each of the others before taking mine. Brick snatched one quickly, a firm believer that every good meal deserves a cigarette. Leona, to my surprise, turned them down. I blinked a moment, but I didn’t insist she take one any longer.

“Nah, I don’t smoke. There’s been a lot of people in my family who have died of lung cancer,” she said, eyes dropping the the pavement as she finished her sentence.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, pulling the cigarette from my lips and getting ready to put it away.

“No, it’s fine. You can smoke around me, I really don’t mind,” she said, looking up and waving her hands to stop me from not having it. “I just don’t.”

“Oh, well…thanks?” I said, lighting it finally, as we got to the silver doors of Brick’s crawler. After burning an ember shaped hole somewhere in the interior, we were back on our way.

A short while later, my attention was grabbed as something flicked at the windshield. Before I could look up at it from the screen, a few dozen other pounds, like impatient fingertips, fell upon us. A dark cloud tumbled over momentarily and the downpour released. Brick cut his speed, flipped his hazards, turned up the wipers and squinted desperately ahead at the other beacons of red light.

“Guys, this is terrible,” he cautioned us. Nervously he reduced his speed even further, unable to make out anything beyond his nosecone. “I’ve never driven in anything as bad as this before!”

Leona and I simply looked at each other and smiled, resisting the urge to break out in laughter. “Really?” she asked after taking a breath.

“Yeah, I can’t get it off the windshield fast enough. Zero visibility and traction, I almost just want to pull over,” he confessed, obviously scared.

“Oh, silly Martian. It’s just a little rain,” I said, unable to contain my laughter.

“Yeah, Brick, this is nasty but it isn’t the worst it could do here,” the other Earthling explained.

“Are you sure?” he asked, still not convinced.

“Yeah, man. This will all blow over in a couple of minutes,” I assured him.

Precisely four minutes and thirty-eight seconds later the storm let up. It seemed to disappear from right over our heads, as if we’d only just passed under a limb or finger of a greater, mysterious being. It wouldn’t be the last time we’d have to deal with this beast today, though.

Leona received a message from her aunt a short while later, informing us that tonight’s spectacle will most likely be rained out. We were supposed to culminate our trip by sitting back to the synchronous fireflies, one of the rarest spectacles on the planet and something the likes of which I’ve never seen, and it looked like I wouldn’t for a while still. Instead we adjusted our course, cutting out the next attraction and settling on this evening’s stopping point.

“Hey, we probably want to be coming down by the time we meet your aunt, right?” I asked Leona.

“Yeah, you probably should…although she’s going to know something’s up with you, Klay,” she pointed out.

“Hehe, you shoulda heard what my family thought about him. Any of them, any time they’ve seen him,” the Martian said, giggling.

“What, that I was high? High out of my mind?” I asked, not very amused.

“No, just that you’re weird,” he said.

“Yep, weird as hell,” confirmed the voice from the backseat.

“Oh.. Well, I can live with that I guess,” I shrugged. “Either way, that means we spark this now, right?”

“Right,” said the driver, handing me a lighter.

Before we’d gotten halfway through smoking it, he’d passed the joint back to me and asked me to hold onto it cause traffic was slowing down. Another minute and we were bumper to bumper with big rigs and smart cars alike. The two lane highway through the mountain pass was at a standstill as far as the eye could see, though that was only until the first bend–we couldn’t tell how far this blockage stretched.

When Brick had to throw it in park, we all sighed and looked at each other in forlorn. We already knew this was going to be lengthy and tedious. The Martian decided it was snack time, passing around peanut butter-filled pretzels and trail mix. Earthgirl opened up the giant polymer cooler that kept her company in the backseat, dispensing red and blue drinks. I, Earthboy, picked up the tuni plugged into the entertainment system and turned up the music.

Start. Stop. Start. Stop another hundred feet from the last place. Start in 2 minutes after watching anxiously ahead for the red eyes to fade. Stop and wait again another 3. Repeat for another hour or so until it lets up just a little bit, accelerating to a slow crawl. Start to drive fast enough where you have to give all your attention to the road ahead and giant trucks slowing suddenly in front of you. Stop being able to see the scenery. Start to get annoyed at all the waterfalls and cascades the two Earthlings riding in the car are pointing out to each other. Stop trying to imagine the drivers thoughts.

The mountain pass was beat at last, and your heroes excitedly exited into a much wider valley, filled with trees, and rivers, and many off-ramps to thin the traffic out. The next destination was Morris and the second time through it so far. To Leona’s aunt’s house in the hills above town, right next to another national park named after an extinct animal; it sounded nicer then the part we’d caught a glimpse of just the day before.

We arrived earlier than we did to any of our other destinations, pulling into the long, freshly paved driveway before the sun even went down. A minute later and Aunt Devvie was out to greet us herself, giving us the grand tour.

A giant walnut tree, old as the boundary lines around it, grew in the middle of the front yard, by a younger magnolia tree in full bloom.

“You know, in all the time we had this place, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this tree in bloom; and they’re so damn huge!” Devvie shared with us.

She walked us around the front of the house, a space as large as my entire backyard before bringing us to the west side of the yard, the sun already escaped behind the mountains. Down the hill from where we stood was a hole in the Earth, named the gully. Dev warned us that all manner of scrap could be found in that pit.

“He used it as his own landfill…more like a little dump I think,” she stood for a while to explain. “He hauled anything he didn’t need over here; trees he’d uproot or rocks he’d unearth, equipment he couldn’t use anymore, and anything else he found dead,” she snorted, turning away at last.

She continued on her circle and brought us counter scroll-wise around the back of the house, where there was a manmade water feature. A long fountain, stretched out into a rocky stream that ran from far uphill. We walked along it to the top and looked back down at the house.

“He built this one bit by bit. One day we were down there on the porch, smoking a cigarette and looking up at the hill, and he got this idea. The next day he had a hose and a bunch of black rubber tarps set up from about halfway to the bottom. And see there where that sticks out? For a while that became a pool with a waterfall that drained to the bottom one,” she paused to take a sip of her drink.

“Then one day he decided to make it longer, got a bunch of instant concrete from the store, and tore up everything he had before,” she then kicked at the spout below her foot. “He laid these heavy duty cables attached to a massive filter pump he installed down there, and started pouring.”

She brought us around to the final stop on the 6 acre estate, a view east of the town of Morris. From here it was the same quaint setting you could imagine on Earth colonies hundreds of years ago. Little bits of flickering yellow light in each window low in the hills, fit in between with spires and steeples that all glowed too. My opinion of it changed a little bit as we stared on.

After the others had all gone to bed, Brick and I crept back outside to the patio. One joint was left, the grand daddy of them all. Rolled in a clear piece of cellulose paper like a tornado, the finest keif and choice pieces of bud went into this monstrosity, easily putting each of the other 20 I made to shame.

We smoked it ceremoniously and were privy to an other-worldly high, it felt like we’d never gotten stoned the entire week of this trip. This majestic piece of smoking history treated us well–so well it didn’t seem right to just snuff it out and flick it away. We had to dispose of it respectfully.

“Come on, Brick, grab your head lamp. I have an idea,” I said, standing and looking west.

When he’d found his gadget and a pair of Martian sandals, we started walking through the back yard, around the house. Up on the hill beside it, we came to the creepily shadowed gully. I emptied the ashtray into my open left hand, then closed it when I closed my eyes.

“Thank you for all the good fortune so far and please may it continue,” I said to no god in particular. Then I dashed the roaches and blew the rest off my hand into the welcoming gully. We turned about and headed inside, intent to rest before the big day.

«The Road Trip – Day 5»

06-09-2309

Ahhhh, waking up in a real bed. What simple pleasures you bastards take for granted each day. Not only did I wake to a real bed in my own quarters, but to eggs and bacon sizzling and popping at me through the vents. It was heavenly, but you’d never be able to appreciate it. Just being in a house that has food in the kitchen is a gift, people.

The Auroran side of Bricks family were full of honest, hard working, hugging folk. His mother’s uncle, Arturius, was slouched over the frying pan in an apron and shorts, white socks pulled up over his calves, when his son, Mic came in. Brick’s first cousin, once removed was dropping off his second cousins to play with their grandparents for the day. I know, it all seems very confusing, I had to do some research to figure it all out.

After a hearty breakfast we were on the road again. The view was worthy of nostalgia, the notes of rural Dominia were hard to ignore. It wasn’t long at all before it was time to ignite the day’s first J, waiting until we were just past the city limits. I exhaled a cloud of relief to not have to worry about covering my act around his family. Well, at least for a few hours.

The only sign for a scenic overlook I’d seen in two days passed by outside.

“Huh, do you think we should?” Brick was entertaining the notion already.

“Uh…well..” I couldn’t answer quick enough, another blue sign and a small turn out whooshed by. “I guess not…It probably wasn’t all that interesting, anyway,” I justified.

“You’re probably right, it must hav–Holy shit!” he pointed across me out the window. The slope to our right, covered by a thicket of trees, dropped away to reveal the vantage from the point.

“Oh gork.. We have to turn around, Brick,” not taking my eyes off the view.

“I know, I know. I’m trying,” he said, searching for convenient place to make a quick u-ey.

“This is not an option! It’s the most interesting thing I’ve seen for miles.” I probably wasn’t helping him find a turn an easier, but still I added “I don’t have any good pictures on Earth, yet. You really have to.”

“Hush, or I won’t pull off for the next one either,” he threatened as he signaled to make a right at an abrupt intersection.

The river bends meandered for miles and miles on end. Grey bridges and trees cut in front of the silver body shining in the cool morning sun. A nice breeze welled up beneath us as we looked over what must have been Lake Warioto. I can only assume, reviewing at the map afterwards. I didn’t actually bother to take a look at the commemorative signage or any other nomenclature about.

We descended the mount after documenting everything, down to the mason work, in which each piece of local slate that was used contained fossils of ancient life. The rocky passage down brought us to the lapping edge of the rivers for a peek before plunging us into a thick, valley forest. The route and all the buildings along the way, were worn in ways that made you know this path was ancient, used for time immemorial.

We passed more decaying mortar and concrete, rubber wheels spinning on crumbling cement, until we came upon Warioto Gap. The little town bloomed with antiquated architecture, reaching far back to the days of the original Ganymedean settlement and the colonial wars. It  had sprouted at the head of a natural pass through the mountain, and was popularized when Earthling frontiersman and hero, Dane Bane, expanded the way, making the settlement of Pennsyltucky beyond much easier.

A recreational trail branched off from the back of the town into the mountains. Apparently, before Jovians took over this world, natives called these tracks the Warrior’s Path, linking the way between the warring tribes of the north and south. Colorful signage littered the sides of the walkway, with dramatized scenes depicted which would have otherwise predated modern photography.

It was humid out with no breeze, but the moderate canopy above helped to keep us cool as we climbed the slow, gravelly grade. Small black land mines peppered the larger rocks and stones, their eight legs sprawled as they basked in the midday sun. I kept my eyes down to avoid accidentally triggering any of them.

“How far do you think it is still?” Brick panted, looking up ahead as his flip flops flapped against the sifting tide or stones. “I’m dying already.”

“Well, the sign in the parking lot said it was a good 5 miles to the closest lookout point,” I recalled as I removed his PDA from my pocket, “and so far we have walked…0.6 miles.”

“And we still have to walk all the way back after getting there? Gork that! Lets turn around after we reach the first vantage.”

“Sounds great to me, let me just see here.” As I fiddled with the touch screen, to plot a new course, an alert flashed across it.

((– Now Leaving Pennsyltucky — Welcome to Dominia –))

“Ever cross a border on foot, before?” I asked Brick slyly.

“Heh. No I can’t say I have…until now, apparently.”

“That’s kind of exciting. Well, anyway, we can just make a left at the next fork, it looks like there’s a side path to another mount just ahead.” I pocketed the gadget and released the canteen I had clipped to my waist. Ahhh, still cold from being inside the crawler. Refreshing.

“Hook me up!” Brick said as he herd the wet clink of the stainless steel bottle. I tossed it to him when I’d replaced the lid.

“You get to carry it for a while, now.” I smirked as I passed him, taking the lead up a steep hill.

The top didn’t yield as impressive a view as we could have hopped. I could see a slope on one side, and a mountain sliding to meet it on the other side, but in between there were just a bunch of trees. I angled about as best I could to get at least one good view of something, but nothing came to sight.

You have to be pretty high up to find any view worth seeing on Earth, there’s always something getting in the way. This was a charming little hill though, and a perfect place for the sunbathing ticks. While I was taking a few pictures of trees, one of the clever little arachnids began to make a break for my legs. I spotted him at the last second before it made to leap on me, letting out a shriek of terror as I hopped off the boulder and ran to Brick.

“Uhm…what?” He looked up at me from the rock he was perched on, interrupted from taking a breather.

“I’m not a fan of the wildlife around here…and I think we kinda have to keep moving if we don’t want to be eaten alive,” I indicated to the stealthy black agent of doom behind me.

“I guess.. I feel really exposed up here too, lets get back under the shade,” as he rose to his feet he dusted off his knees and handed the water bottle back to me. “Where to know, do you think?”

“Hmm,” I glanced about a few seconds. “I’d say back down and over there to left, there’s some sort of landmark or memorial by the looks of it.”

“It looks less sunny too, so I’m for it,” and he lead the way down the hill, side stepping to find better footing on the slippery gray stones.

A crater was etched out of a rock wall just a few minutes up our turn. Dead leaves and dry branches flooded it most of the way, making its depth indeterminable. Another floating sign informed us it had been a Union storehouse during Earth’s Civil war, self destructed so it wouldn’t fall into the hands of separatists. Bits of history dating this far back would receive much acclaim and respect on Mars, but here they’re scattered like weeds, another everywhere you turn.

“This is neat, do you want to chill here while we spark it?” Brick asked me with hope, trying anything he could to make this little excursion more worth it.

“Ehh…not particularly. I kinda want to save it for the road, we’ve still got a good ways to drive today. And we won’t still be high by the time we get out of this sweaty park.” My logic was sound enough, I thought, but I added “and I’d like to be sitting down to enjoy it, we’d be tick food before we even got close to roaching it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Let’s head back then, ok,” he rifled in his pocket for a menthol cigarette and offered one to me as we turned about, now walking downhill.

An Earthling girl in shades and athletic tights jogged briskly by us on the path. Between deep panting breathes, she shouted a warning as she passed.

“Snake up ahead. Big black one. Middle of the trail. Watch out!” and she was gone, headed up the way we just came down.

“Hmm..” Brick moaned.

“Wow…thanks for the warning, I guess,” I muttered, not sure what to make of it until we saw it for ourselves.

Long enough to stretch the entire span of the walkway, we gingerly tiptoed around the smooth reptile as it slithered on into the foliage. Rounded diamond-shape scales cased it‘s hide, uniform and black. I couldn’t see the head or any markings indicating what type it was, but it was intimidating enough to treat it with utmost caution. Looking back again, I saw the end of it’s plain tail vanished amongst the ferns.

“I think I need to phone my dad real quick,” I was already removing my texti from my pocket.

“Do you update him every time you see a snake?”

“Only when I don’t know what it is…and when I’m in the same territory as him..and when–” my signal connected to the network and it began to ring. He answered after only a couple tones.

“Hey kid, what’s goin on?” the muted voice squeaked through my tiny speaker.

“Not much, dad. I just had a quick question for you.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“Well we’re in Warioto Gap right now, just walked across the border into Dominia.”

“Oh, cool. Coming home soon then?”

“Well kinda, we’ve still got to head through Appalachia and Carolina, and back to Appalachia for the festival this weekend. But I had a question about poisonous snakes.”

“Uh..ok, I think there are emergency services that specialize in snakebites better than I could. And a lot quicker at that.”

“You’re funny. No I didn’t get bitten, I just saw a snake and couldn’t remember which poisonous species we had in our territory. Cottonmouths and…?”

“Rattlers. Timber Rattlers,” he answered quickly, in an obvious tone.

“Huh, really? I always think of them as more of a Luna-Mars thing. Copperheads and Water Moccasins are what I think of when it comes to Earth. And Coral Snakes.”

“Why not, they’re all Pit Vipers. Well, the Cottonmouth species and the Rattlers are anyway; Coral are actually a type of Cobra.” I kinda miss him going on like this, you always learn something.

“No way..wow I guess that makes sense, why they’d be so lethal.” This was a new one on me, but I hardly had the minutes to waste. “Uh, anyway, are any of those about an inch thick and pitch black? Maybe about 2 feet long?”

“No, that’s nothing to worry about at all,” he paused a second to consider it. “Probably a regular old rat snake. If it has no markings at all you‘re safe, and half of the time, even if it does, it‘s just pretending to be dangerous. Toxin filled creatures always come with clearly visible markings, just part of how they evolved.” I could tell he was gearing up for a long one.

“That’s cool, I’ve never really thought about it like that,” it was slightly fascinating, you have to admit. “Well, thanks for helping me ID it, dad. I gotta run though. See you in about a week?”

“Yeah, sure thing, kid. Take care of yourself out there. Love you much.”

“Love you too,” I slid the texti closed to end the call.

“Is it safe?” Brick asked sarcastically.

“Yeah, that one was,” I was adjusting to speaking at normal volume again, “but let’s not hang around to find any that aren’t.”

Back on the road we continued through to Appalachia. Lush, well nourished greenery aligned us, strangled up to the limbs in the river-lakes that ran beside road. It was obvious excessive rains had raised the line several feet, but people here were smart enough to keep their houses far up hill from the new boundaries of their yards. As we crossed the swollen Holstein River I was reminded how insignificant water seemed to the citizens of this world.

We changed our course in Morris, a little crossroads town in the middle of the mountains, and were about to head north when hunger struck us.

“They have White Castles around here, right?” The Martian asked as if I knew intimate details of this part of the planet.

“I can only assume they do…although I can’t remember the last time I saw one this far south. We might as well take a look,” I answered, half optimistic and half unwilling to admit I didn’t know something.

“Right, then we’re exiting here,” he informed me as we entered the ramp leaving the highway.

It looked like any town near the eastern seaboard, the same earth-red bricks wrapped houses with pale columned porticos and black window shudders. Granted, the upkeep hadn’t been attended as closely as some of the nicer neighborhoods I’ve known, but combined with the rusted wrought iron and creeping vines it was all kind of homey.

We continued on the main avenue, scouring both sides of the street for fresh, bite sized burgers, but found none. An alarming number of seafood places were present, especially a good amount of sushi restaurants. Brick and I glanced at each other and shuddered to think about the quality of raw fish up here in the mountains, or anywhere besides Mars or Saturn for that matter. After half an hour of cringing, we turned about.

“Well that was a bust, what did we pass along the way that looked good?” I had given up on finding sliders anytime this trip long ago.

“I dunno…regular sized burgers?” Suggested the Brick.

“Fine, how about the BK Lounge over here?” I pointed to the drive-thru, right by the old rusted rails that used to pump the blood of life into this town.

“Sounds good to me, I think we’ve been avoiding eating there long enough…and salmon rolls aren’t even that appealing to me when they aren’t hundreds of miles from the closest shore,” the picky eater responded.

As we sat in the glassed dining area of the restaurant, an act I’d developed a new appreciation for after being confined to a crawler for majority of the past week, we observed the local color. Mostly pastey white, probably all from Ganymedean families that traded their afternoon tea and suit ties for rabbit meat and coonskin caps when they relocated to Earthly log cabins. Everyone also seemed to have poor skin and obesity issues, obviously loyal customers of this and similar fastfood chains, frequenting them for all four of their meals throughout a given day. The staff even seemed slow and sluggish, weighed down by pounds of grease and fat sloshing around inside of them. Mixed with the unhealthy burger I was hastily shoving down my throat, it was a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

“Just think, tomorrow night we’ll be here again,” Brick said between bites. He wiped his mouth and corrected himself, “Sorry, not here at BK, I mean in Morris.”

“Oh, right…wait this is where Leona’s aunt lives?” I asked, slightly surprised.

“Yeah, well somewhere around here anyway. I just remember seeing Morris on the map when I looked it up.”

I took a second to look around at the overweight diners accompanying us. “Her family’s not from around here, is it?”

“No. Heavens, no. She’s from upstate New Tros, I think her aunt just moved down here. Why to the south, I haven‘t a clue,” he pondered just a minute longer before shrugging and eating a handful of fries.

“Ah, well that’s cool then. There’s no way her aunt could be as gross as the Earthlings around here,” I was relieved, but in the back of my head I was aware that some places just end up changing you. “Lets get out of here before we become like them.

“One step ahead of you, sir,” he said, already rising to his feet and dusting the crumbs off his shirt.

We returned to the highway and resumed our drive. The road we just switched to was narrower and more winding than the previous major route. We had deviated from the suggested path to stop by a landmark that looked appealing, and after an awkward uphill climb finally reached it.

Blowing Rock was apparently the most exciting thing to see for miles, an exposed outcropping looming over a valley created at a continental divide between the ancient sedimentary mountains and the fresh, young chrystallines. For 6 bucks each, we could stand on an observation platform and look at all the trees hiding the beautiful mountain faces and slopes.

There wasn’t a series of little landmarks one could conceivably hike too, there weren’t impressive features you could spot from the deck, it was just a bunch of trees. The most astounding thing was the size of the giftshop, immense compared to the magnitude of the site. A large wall sized panorama picture was all the view we needed to take in before we turned and left.

“Well that certainly blew. This is one of those places you decided to visit cause it looked like a funny name when you saw it on the map, right?” I harped at Brick.”

“Yeah,” he answered sheepishly.

“Are you sorely disappointed?”

“Yes..”

“And have you learned your lesson?”

“Nope, onward to Troutman!” He shouted, breaking into a run for the silver vehicle, still warm and as anxious to get back on the road as we were.

«The Road Trip – Day 1»

I woke up a lot earlier than I usually do, got out of bed and showered. Then I clipped my nails, shaved what I can call a beard, and actually brushed my teeth. It was even morning still by the time I finished.

My bags were already packed, as they have been for a couple weeks, but finally prepared the night before with a few last minute items. I had laid the days clothes out for myself, which I, of course, had already fit into my suitcase; I know I’ll have room for extra things if I need another shirt or two back home. Unfortunately I have to drag Eon’s bag back with me, so I won’t really be able to bring all the things I’d want for a summer. Like the stuff stored on my external hard drive, but I figure it will be safer at home, and I can always buy a new one with the money I’ll be making if I do stay all summer, otherwise I’d be back in a month. Either way, it will be a short while before I’m reunited with all of my precious data.

I tried to kill time all day, anxious about the trip, ever so ready to get it underway. Brick was picking me up from the jam, but I’d needed a ride there. Allan grudgingly gave me a lift, making a big deal about not being able to go; though he had arranged a trip for his summer before I had, along the coast to Cydonia, and never really made provisions for me to go with him, so whatever. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go on this trip in the first place.

The guys were sad to see me go, they liked the variety I added by singing along with Allan. They were finally willing to play all the songs I’d been trying to get them to try for months. It was a short lived experience though, Brick came before the jam was through and I loaded all the bags (one case, mine; an even larger one, Eon’s) in his trunk, where they would stay for a few days.

The small pack I prepared has all the provisions I’d need to survive a couple days without everything else, spare food and water. I have my toiletries, electronics and chargers. I have a spare change of clothes with flip flops, and an extra pair of socks on top of that. I have my towel. I have the 21 pre-rolled joints we’ll be rationing out along the way. I have the Flowers of Taurus. I’ll carry this thing back and forth from the vehicle to the hotel, just change and restock the pack when it gets smelly, and hopefully be able to wash everything before the festival starts, just in case it rains and I need something dry by the end of it.

We got to his house and finished packing up all the stuff he would need for a year on Earth. When we’d completed our short task, aided by Brick‘s lovi, we made a ceremonial journey to the top-of-the-world, in Fender. Well, every town seems to have a top-of-the-world, and I’m sure well see many greater things along our way that would just flatten this meager mountain.

It was the very spot I left the bunnies to their fate. From now on it would be the spot we smoked two joints to commemorate our trip. We walked far down a path, far enough that out in the distance, between the other ridges that get in the way, you could perfectly see the ever illuminated skyline of Novus Angelicas.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could actually get such a clear view of it from here. I never saw it like this from Linda’s house…or anywhere along here,” I remembered being frustrated any day I’d tried to take pictures on walks here.

“Well not many people see this cause its closed during the night. And it just, kinda looks like a horse trail. It’s actually part of golf course right below us.” Brick informed me.

“I’ve never seen it like this.”

“Well get a good look, cause it will be the last time you will for a long, long while, good sir.” He the handed the second one back to me, almost finished.

I took one last large drag, and an equally  large view of the glowing towers of white and gold in the background. How long will it be before I come back down?

*****

The first day started early. 8 am is never been an acceptable hour to wake up–unless it’s Eridian time–and 7:45 even less appropriate.

“Wakey, wakey, sir. Our journey begins,” Brick said excitedly, sticking his head into the room where I slept.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, rolling over. I yawned and sat up as I tried to remember what chords I was playing in my dream, though it was futile. I gave up trying when I realized they probably wouldn’t sound as good in real life anyway; if those notes even existed. I stretched and began to move my blood around, finding I was better rested than I expected to be, I surely thought my anticipation would cut into my sleep. I felt fortunate for the weeks of preparation that went into this day. My bags were ready, the crawler was packed, the drugs were waiting. All that was left was for us to pile in and take off.

We weren’t taking the Fondgrid company vehicle, instead wed just be taking nicks crawler, which he would then drive back to school to have there, and then bring back home when he graduated next summer. We could take the same route we planned from Mars to Luna: drive a few hours to get to the UA Ferry, which departs just north of Valles Marineris–the middle of the gorking desert–and land on what Earthlings commonly refer to as the far side of the moon.

Then tomorrow, after a 12 hour haul that will be hard to sleep through while still sitting in the crawler, we’ll drive east, through the mountains and valleys and more gorking mountains, until it starts to flatten out, much like a wave function, into the smooth flat plains on the near side of the moon. Then we could take a more direct route to the southern hemisphere of Earth, since we wouldn’t be restricted to a ferry large enough to carry a broadside. We could use the Old Gammatheon ferry, which follows as close to ancient Rte. 66 as you can get these days. It would make our overall trip less lengthy and a lot more historic all at once.

“Hey, looks like we get to go through Dominia on this route,” I realized, inspecting the new route. “The complete other side of the territory from where I was born, but that’s cool none the less.”

“Bring it back to today’s map,” he requested, looking over at the PDA in my hand while we were stopped at a light. “I just want to see which freeway it says to take out of here.”

“Looks like…the 60 to Berdu, and the 15 on,” I responded, finding the information quickly, “we’re heading the right way.”

“Excellent, excellent. When do we want to start?” Brick asked, motioning to the closed ashtray resting between us.

“Let’s get out of this sprawl first, I’ll feel much safer about it if we just reach the desert first. And we’ve only got one for today, anyway.”

“You’ve got a point, how long do we have?”

“As your navigator, I advise you to drive at top speed…”

“Yeah, yeah, that shtick is gonna get old real quick,” he shot me a preemptive glare.

I giggled to myself as soon as he turned back to the road, merging onto the freeway. I could see it stretch out impossibly far before me, disappearing into the far mountains. I had no idea what lay on the other side, but couldn’t wait to find out.

06-05-2309

I woke up a lot earlier than I usually do, got out of bed and showered. Then I clipped my nails, shaved what I can call a beard, and actually brushed my teeth. It was even morning still by the time I finished.

My bags were already packed, as they have been for a couple weeks, but finally prepared the night before with a few last minute items. I had laid the days clothes out for myself, which I, of course, had already fit into my suitcase; I know I’ll have room for extra things if I need another shirt or two back home. Unfortunately I have to drag Eon’s bag back with me, so I won’t really be able to bring all the things I’d want for a summer. Like the stuff stored on my external hard drive, but I figure it will be safer at home, and I can always buy a new one with the money I’ll be making if I do stay all summer, otherwise I’d be back in a month. Either way, it will be a short while before I’m reunited with all of my precious data.

I tried to kill time all day, anxious about the trip, ever so ready to get it underway. Brick was picking me up from the jam, but I’d needed a ride there. Allan grudgingly gave me a lift, making a big deal about not being able to go; though he had arranged a trip for his summer before I had, along the coast to Cydonia, and never really made provisions for me to go with him, so whatever. It was one of the reasons I wanted to go on this trip in the first place.

The guys were sad to see me go, they liked the variety I added by singing along with Allan. They were finally willing to play all the songs I’d been trying to get them to try for months. It was a short lived experience though, Brick came before the jam was through and I loaded all the bags (one case, mine; an even larger one, Eon’s) in his trunk, where they would stay for a few days.

The small pack I prepared has all the provisions I’d need to survive a couple days without everything else, spare food and water. I have my toiletries, electronics and chargers. I have a spare change of clothes with flip flops, and an extra pair of socks on top of that. I have my towel. I have the 21 pre-rolled joints we’ll be rationing out along the way. I have the Flowers of Taurus. I’ll carry this thing back and forth from the vehicle to the hotel, just change and restock the pack when it gets smelly, and hopefully be able to wash everything before the festival starts, just in case it rains and I need something dry by the end of it.

We got to his house and finished packing up all the stuff he would need for a year on Earth. When we’d completed our short task, aided by Brick‘s lovi, we made a ceremonial journey to the top-of-the-world, in Fender. Well, every town seems to have a top-of-the-world, and I’m sure well see many greater things along our way that would just flatten this meager mountain.

It was the very spot I left the bunnies to their fate. From now on it would be the spot we smoked two joints to commemorate our trip. We walked far down a path, far enough that out in the distance, between the other ridges that get in the way, you could perfectly see the ever illuminated skyline of Novus Angelicas.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could actually get such a clear view of it from here. I never saw it like this from Linda’s house…or anywhere along here,” I remembered being frustrated any day I’d tried to take pictures on walks here.

“Well not many people see this cause its closed during the night. And it just, kinda looks like a horse trail. It’s actually part of golf course right below us.” Brick informed me.

“I’ve never seen it like this.”

“Well get a good look, cause it will be the last time you will for a long, long while, good sir.” He the handed the second one back to me, almost finished.

I took one last large drag, and an equally large view of the glowing towers of white and gold in the background. How long will it be before I come back down?

«←→»

The first day started early. 8 am is never been an acceptable hour to wake up–unless it’s Eridian time–and 7:45 even less appropriate.

“Wakey, wakey, sir. Our journey begins,” Brick said excitedly, sticking his head into the room where I slept.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, rolling over. I yawned and sat up as I tried to remember what chords I was playing in my dream, though it was futile. I gave up trying when I realized they probably wouldn’t sound as good in real life anyway; if those notes even existed. I stretched and began to move my blood around, finding I was better rested than I expected to be, I surely thought my anticipation would cut into my sleep. I felt fortunate for the weeks of preparation that went into this day. My bags were ready, the crawler was packed, the drugs were waiting. All that was left was for us to pile in and take off.

We weren’t taking the Fondgrid company vehicle, instead wed just be taking nicks crawler, which he would then drive back to school to have there, and then bring back home when he graduated next summer. We could take the same route we planned from Mars to Luna: drive a few hours to get to the UA Ferry, which departs just north of Valles Marineris–the middle of the gorking desert–and land on what Earthlings commonly refer to as the far side of the moon.

Then tomorrow, after a 12 hour haul that will be hard to sleep through while still sitting in the crawler, we’ll drive east, through the mountains and valleys and more gorking mountains, until it starts to flatten out, much like a wave function, into the smooth flat plains on the near side of the moon. Then we could take a more direct route to the southern hemisphere of Earth, since we wouldn’t be restricted to a ferry large enough to carry a broadside. We could use the Old Gammatheon ferry, which follows as close to ancient Rte. 66 as you can get these days. It would make our overall trip less lengthy and a lot more historic all at once.

“Hey, looks like we get to go through Dominia on this route,” I realized, inspecting the new course. “The complete other side of the territory from where I was born, but that’s cool none the less.”

“Bring it back to today’s map,” he requested, looking over at the PDA in my hand while we were stopped at a light. “I just want to see which freeway it says to take out of here.”

“Looks like…the 60 to Berdu, and the 15 on,” I responded, finding the information quickly, “we’re heading the right way.”

“Excellent, excellent. When do we want to start?” Brick asked, motioning to the closed ashtray resting between us.

“Let’s get out of this sprawl first, I’ll feel much safer about it if we just reach the desert first. And we’ve only got one for today, anyway.”

“You’ve got a point, how long do we have?”

“As your navigator, I advise you to drive at top speed…”

“Yeah, yeah, that shtick is gonna get old real quick,” he shot me a preemptive glare.

I giggled to myself as soon as he turned back to the road, merging onto the freeway. I could see it stretch out impossibly far before me, disappearing into the far mountains. I had no idea what lay on the other side, but couldn’t wait to find out.

«A Time for Leaving»

Like watching the leaves recede to mark the coming of fall, or geese migrating to the southern hemisphere at the start of winter, you know summer’s right around the corner when you see all the kids from Earth lined up at the ports: loaded down by backpacks and emblazoned with college initialisms. This season is always littered with vacations and getaways, but this particular year is significant to me. This is the year I should have graduated, the year the rest of my high school class finishes college. This is the year I was supposed to start the next stage of my life.

Most subsidized student loans don’t have to be paid off until 6 months after you complete your education. It’s a buffer intended to give you enough time to find a job and ease into the career you’ve set your heading to: a good half year to get a foothold before the bills start flooding in. Most new bachelors and masters opt to spend their last free months taking in some life before being locked into their professions, as well as any remainder of the loan money. The trendiest thing to do after getting your degree is to backpack Jupiter.

Granted, most kids I used to go to school with are interested in pursuing even higher forms of education, now concerned with what grad school their getting into, but a good portion of my classmates are taking this opportunity to enjoy the last part of their life they have any real control over. Before the blinders are lowered and the chute is opened–before the trap door is released from under them and they slide blindly into society, feet first. I pity them.

I don’t know why though, they’re so much closer to having a life than I am. Technically, I’m still a rising freshman, having never completed a year of college in the several attempts I’ve made to start. But should I really feel left behind? What are they inching towards that I want so badly? A good credit score? A mortgage or accumulating equity? Health, dental, home owners and life insurance? Car payments?

No. I don’t want any of the shit that goes along with being a responsible adult. It just seems so unnatural to me, like some manmade trap of plastic and wire. I’d rather live a life of freedom, a life not determined by how much I make or what my possessions are worth to other people. I’d prefer if the rest of my life was lived on my terms. I think the beauty and riches of experiencing the world around you should be the motivation for you to get out of bed every morning, not a series of deadlines baring down on you or bill collectors breathing down your neck.

So I decided I’m going to go on an adventure this summer, too. Not a well deserved break from a bunch of voluntary obligations I‘ve gotten myself into, but a completely unnecessary trip of discovery. I want to see the world, not because it may be the last chance I ever get to before rats come marching in, but just because I haven’t felt like I’ve seen anything yet.

Good bye palm trees and red desert, hello adventure. Don’t worry Mars, I’ll be back to taste your wonders soon enough, but first I’ve got some business to take care of at home.

06-02-2309

Like watching the leaves recede to mark the coming of fall, or geese migrating to the southern hemisphere at the start of winter, you know summer’s right around the corner when you see all the kids from Earth lined up at the ports: loaded down by backpacks and emblazoned with college initialisms. This season is always littered with vacations and getaways, but this particular year is significant to me. This is the year I should have graduated, the year the rest of my high school class finishes college. This is the year I was supposed to start the next stage of my life.

Most subsidized student loans don’t have to be paid off until 6 months after you complete your education. It’s a buffer intended to give you enough time to find a job and ease into the career you’ve set your heading to: a good half year to get a foothold before the bills start flooding in. Most new bachelors and masters opt to spend their last free months taking in some life before being locked into their professions, as well as any remainder of the loan money. The trendiest thing to do after getting your degree is to backpack Jupiter.

Granted, most kids I used to go to school with are interested in pursuing even higher forms of education, now concerned with what grad school their getting into, but a good portion of my classmates are taking this opportunity to enjoy the last part of their life they have any real control over. Before the blinders are lowered and the chute is opened–before the trap door is released from under them and they slide blindly into society, feet first. I pity them.

I don’t know why though, they’re so much closer to having a life than I am. Technically, I’m still a rising freshman, having never completed a year of college in the several attempts I’ve made to start. But should I really feel left behind? What are they inching towards that I want so badly? A good credit score? A mortgage or accumulating equity? Health, dental, home owners and life insurance? Car payments?

No. I don’t want any of the shit that goes along with being a responsible adult. It just seems so unnatural to me, like some manmade trap of plastic and wire. I’d rather live a life of freedom, a life not determined by how much I make or what my possessions are worth to other people. I’d prefer if the rest of my life was lived on my terms. I think the beauty and riches of experiencing the world around you should be the motivation for you to get out of bed every morning, not a series of deadlines baring down on you or bill collectors breathing down your neck.

So I decided I’m going to go on an adventure this summer, too. Not a well deserved break from a bunch of voluntary obligations I‘ve gotten myself into, but a completely unnecessary trip of discovery. I want to see the world, not because it may be the last chance I ever get to before rats come marching in, but just because I haven’t felt like I’ve seen anything yet.

Good bye palm trees and red desert, hello adventure. Don’t worry Mars, I’ll be back to taste your wonders soon enough, but first I’ve got some business to take care of at home.