Book 1.

1.

Transcript of global broadcast
Dated January 9th, 2015
Speaker: Julian Parker

Space is our future. We can't turn away from it.

You know who I am. You also know all I've accomplished, so you can understand how strongly I believe that to be true.

When I was young I looked at the stars and dreamt of being amongst them. I dreamt of starships ferrying humanity across the darkness to regions unknown to us, of our knowledge expanded by worlds other than Earth and of seeing skies of different colours and hues.

For the time these dreams may have been idealistic, but they stayed with me and assisted me in my personal development as well as the development of my company.

The ParkerCorporation has achieved all the goals it set itself, and now it is looking for new horizons. And that means going to space, and there's probably no better time than in our greatest hour of need.

Space is the final frontier left for us to explore. Until now we've dabbled in spaceflight with machines badly needing overhauls and and upgrades some decades ago. We have a half-completed spacestation in orbit continually hampered by conflict, funding cuts and sabotage. Our probes have landed on other planets, found traces of water in the most barren of places, proof that we could live off-world if we possessed the means and the will to do so... which we do, no matter what bureaucracy says and dismisses.

But we've gone no further.

It has been almost a half a century since Apollo 11 landed on the Moon, and what do we have to show for it? Nothing but assorted technical findings no ordinary person understands.

There have been no manned missions to planets, no journeys to the stars.

NASA's fleet of shuttles is corroding, its newer models active but rarely used. In fact, the once mighty NASA has been reduced to yet another government agency, relying on funding to survive. And its budget is cut back further each year.

NASA has the technology to take us to Mars and Venus and beyond, but cannot because of continual interference and political bullshit. Like it or not, space is our future and the more time we waste in conferences is time wasted while our survival is endangered.

I'm not one of those people who believes that by journeying outwards we will become God. Or that we will find Heaven. I only believe in facts, and it's been proven that we will die if we don't leave soon.

The Leviathan asteroid is heading for Earth and we must be ready for any eventuality. Especially the apocalyptic ones.

Leviathan is what we believe to be the global killer, an asteroid identical to the one that killed the dinosaurs. It will strike Earth and the results will be catastrophic. We're in a race against time if we wish to survive, a race we cannot lose. There's no time for politics. The reality is, if it strikes we won't be able to debate what we could've done.

With NASA or other agencies unable to act, I intend to take matters into my own hands. Construction of a spaceship to take three people to Mars is already underway.

Inside the spacecraft will be technology needed by the first future settlers when they start to terraform the planet, as well as the stored genetic material of every living thing on Earth. The ship is a second Noah's Ark, carrying within it the means to start again should the Leviathan disaster prove to be utterly inescapable from Earth and all those on Her.

I hope to prove by this that Mars can be reached without the massive costs projected by NASA. Private enterprise and the creation of a new generation of astronaut hold the greatest hope for our survival.

What I do is not for fame or fortune but for all of us to share. No longer can we sit idly by and hope that someone else will take care of our problems for us. We have to act now or it will be too late.

I urge you all to consider what I have said. It is the future of our children and grandchildren we're talking about here. We can't afford to fail.

I cannot be alone in this stance. More ships must be sent to Mars to set up the colony if my mission is successful. The colonisation of Mars must become our one and only goal. The goal of survival.

Thank you.

2.

Four years later the launch of the Ark was all set to begin.

Margaret Carter, the geologist assigned to the Mars mission, just wished the butterflies in her stomach would settle. She felt distanced from the project, saddened and numbed by the grand voyage she was ready to undertake. All the work leading up to this suddenly didn't seem worth it, the sacrifices involved far greater than she'd realised.

The customary three month long quarantine from the public was a part of this; the idea of isolation from Earth itself and being surrounded by nothing but darkness was another, as was the knowledge that the radiation would leave her barren, unable to have more children. But by far the worst was knowing this moment would live forever in history. Carter didn't want to be famous and the very thought terrified her.

Of course, if the Leviathan asteroid impacted as proclaimed, history would not last long anyway.

The thought of being trapped in a claustrophobic metal cocoon for two years wasn't a pleasant one either. Locked away from the world inside the various spaceflight preparation facilities made Carter feel detached from the world around her, and maybe detached from reality as well. A large screen mounted on the far wall was her only link outside. Feeling lonely and depressed, Carter flicked between channels until she found a news broadcast.

There wasn't much to report. Increased hostilities in several Mid-East countries again, more conflict and more death, more scandals. The world was continuing as usual, even this close to the threatened end.

It seemed attention was focused elsewhere and that took the pressure off a little. After several minutes of listening to the news, Carter changed to an online screen and downloaded new messages. As per usual there were several hundred, the majority of these simple well-wishes from those people who still cared.

Some were letters from children asking her to pass their respects on to God. That drew a smile from her.

The rest were from people she knew, offering their support and love.

A display on the left notified her that her husband was online. A message icon beeped at her. Using her fingers to thread across access points, Carter confirmed the request and set the desired requirements.

Holographic generators beside the screen flashed to life, simulating a representation of Mark before her. The latest in holo-technology, it captured his features well, lacking the blocky outlines other models were notorious for. Still it couldn't capture colour and his body was cloaked with a distinct green tinge.

"Hey." He grinned at her, the smile distorted by the projection. "How you doing?"

"Not too bad."

"Problems in paradise?"

"It's far from paradise." She shook her head. "I'll be glad when it's over and we're on our way."

"Okay. Just make sure you come back to us."

"It seems so... unreal," Carter said, sidestepping his remark. "Imagine, a black commander and a woman going to Mars only so long after the end of their repression."

"Well, God only knows it's taken long enough," he said dryly.

Carter slipped a hand to her chest and clutched the gold crucifix hanging there, a present from her parents when she'd turned eighteen, still in good condition after almost two decades. "Yeah," she said hesitantly, lost in thought for a timeless instant. "And what a time to get started, hey?

But enough about the mission," she continued, dismissing her concerns with a casual shake of the head. "How're the kids doing?"

"They miss you, but they're okay," Mark said. "Leah did well in an English assignment the other day, and Darren's starting to read better."

She managed a smile, but it vanished a couple of moments later. It was one thing giving up personal pleasures, another entirely to miss seeing her children develop.

"That's great," she managed after a long moment.

"I know." He tilted his head to the side, as someone spoke to him away from the projectors and microphones. "Gotta go. I'll upload a couple of things to e-mail and send them."

"Okay. I love you."

"Likewise, sweetheart. I'll see you soon."

The hologram glowed a lighter colour for a moment, making it almost transparent, then disappeared. A prompt declaring YOU HAVE MAIL replaced it.

Carter returned to her mail prompts and opened the new message. Several small holograms appeared before her, revolving as she studied them. Her daughter's assignment was plastered with a red A+, the other a picture by Darren.

She stared at them for a moment, then brutally severed the connection. The screen returned to darkness instantly.

3.

Carter was woken at 4:00 am the next morning.

She took ten minutes to fully waken, enjoying a hot shower to ease some of the tension from her muscles, knowing it would be the last shower she would have for several years as the Ark was fitted only with sponge baths, and dressed promptly. The jumpsuit, fitted with the red-blue Parker Corporation logo across the left breast pocket, was a comfortable fit.

The first stop on Carter's schedule was an exercise room where a nurse took her temperature, checked her heart-rate and blood pressure, and weighed her. None were enjoyable experiences and did nothing to quell the nerves the shower had failed to dispel. The brisk manner in which her examination was handled was more reassuring, and Carter took that as a good sign.

She passed all the tests easily enough and went to the messhall next, thinking of the deadline ten hours in the future when they would launch...

when they'd go further than any human before them... and beyond that to the moment when she'd set foot on an alien world...

Her two fellow astronauts were already seated and fixated on their respective meals, talking to each other in hushed tones.

Carl Johnson was the more intimidating of the two; tall and handsome, dark-skinned and gifted with both a stunning smile and equally stunning intellect, he was the Mission Commander and the man the PR boys loved.

Peter Talbot seemed more ordinary than his counterpart, a serious spirit even during the most humorous of situations. His solemn mood seemed to suit the terrifying assignment.

Carter rounded them out, the scientist chosen to study the planetary conditions and geology of Mars. She knew very little about the spacecraft itself, or its operation.

Neither Johnson nor Talbot bothered to acknowledge her presence. It would be less than truthful to say she was looking forward to spending her time inside the Ark (basically a gigantic elliptical tin can) with these two.

There were many others in the messhall besides them, at least a couple of dozen people sitting and eating at other assorted tables spread out across the room. But unlike Johnson and Talbot, these people watched her as she collected her food and sat alone. Filtering out their inquisitive gazes was difficult and Carter failed quite miserably, fidgeting as she sat.

Though unlike NASA or other space agencies in principle if not in exact execution, the Parker Corporation still adhered to many rituals started by original space-jockeys and breakfast was one of them. Juice, steak, scrambled eggs, toast and coffee sat on a tray before her; Carter didn't really find any of it all that appetising, and didn't think it could be that good for her cholesterol, either.

She poked at her meal absently. It tasted like rubber - perhaps another tradition, being overcooked. But it wasn't that bad, really; the steak was tough and the eggs overdone, the toast cold and the coffee too milky, but it wasn't all that dissimilar to a meal at the local restaurant.

A shadow fell before her and Carter glanced up. Johnson stood looking down at her from his massive height, hazel eyes boring into her own. "Mind if I join you for a moment?" His voice was deep and throaty, the kind you'd find in a theatre actor and not usually in an astronaut.

"I prefer my own company." He sat anyway and Carter waved the hand holding her fork forward, splashing a touch of egg near him. "But if you insist."

Johnson tilted his chair so its back faced the table, then wiped the egg away. "What can I do you for, Carl?"

He made a casually dismissive shrug. "I wanted to see how you're doing...

and to see if I could convince you to stop avoiding us. We don't bite, Margaret."

"I'm okay and I'm not avoiding you," she said quietly, knowing it was a lie. "I never really pictured myself doing this. I've done all the training but I'm still not really used to the idea. I think best when I am by myself."

"Well that's okay as long as you remember we're a collective unit,"

Johnson said. "If we don't work together we won't even get to the damn planet. We have to trust each other. You understand that?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Then I'll leave you to your breakfast."

He rose, returned the chair to its previous position, and left. Carter watched him go, thinking for a moment she might have misjudged him, then returned to her food.

4.

Next in the series of final preparations was the suit-up.

It was the most unpleasant of all.

The large room (filled with equipment, the suits themselves and wide-eyed, gawky techs) seemed like something ethereal, it was so white and sterile, almost a moment frozen in time. The suit technicians - all protected and cleansed inside their various coveralls - wandered about as they tended to their duties, smiling assurance at her as they passed.

After the astronaut suits and undergarments were extensively examined and given the all-clear, some of the techs left to be replaced by nurses. They ushered her to a section of the hall cordoned off from outside view by a wrapping screen. Here, Carter stripped naked, shivering in the cold surroundings and wrinkling her nose at the metallic smell of disinfectant.

The nurses instructed her to massage various ointments into her skin, across chest and thighs and buttocks, which she did with a little resentment. This had to be applied before she could don her other protective clothing (a faecal containment bag, for instance, a kind of large diaper that was most uncomfortable), otherwise there would be nothing to adhere to. After all this she was given special large, knee-and-elbow length underwear and a sports bra. The final humiliation was the catheter; attached to a urine collection device, then she was ready to wear one of the pressure suits. The whole process was humiliating, but necessary for everyday living in space.

Climbing into the several layers of suit was difficult, like slipping into another skin covered with thick rippling muscles and veins. This was only rivalled by the fastidious detail the technicians took in hooking up her various wires and cables. But at last it was completed and Carter was able to rest for a little while. Then several people approached her, carrying a glass helmet resembling an oversized goldfish-bowl. She took a deep breath of antiseptic air as it was lowered over her head. The helmet snapped into place and it felt like an extra several kilos was piled up on top of her.

Carter leaned back in a chair central to the room as air was pumped into her suit, inflating it.

And, after more checks and some minor details, everything was done.

Her comrades joined her minutes later, fitted with the same orange pressure suits as she. Carter took several steps forward, surprised by how difficult it was inside the bulky suit. Its weight was constricting and it bulged around her knees where it inflated, disconcerting to say the least.

Technicians fussed over them once they were together, checking every detail; now was not the time for error... though no time ever was, of course.

Johnson leaned towards them, his suit moving with him, sending the techs scurrying. He addressed them through various microphones attached to their suits. "All ready?"

Carter nodded, suddenly unable to speak as the prospect of Mars grew more real... and more daunting.

Talbot was more enthusiastic. "Let's roll," he said.

5.

The van tumbled over bulky terrain, crossing the great distance between them and the launchpad at an agonisingly slow pace. It was air-conditioned, a great relief because of the heat trapped inside their pressure suits, though the noise generated by the air being recycled grated on Carter's nerves.

She sat quietly, separated from her comrades by only a few seats but much further away in her mind. Completely ignored for the trip's duration, she'd taken to staring out of the window opposite her instead of attempting conversation, studying their surroundings.

All around was arid desert, Nevada at its most typical. The launch facilities had been constructed here because it was hoped the isolation from most communities would grant them privacy, but that'd been shattered alarmingly quickly and it was too expensive to relocate despite the very real threat of sabotage.

Glaring at the cracked ground, golden-rustic dirt and the dust kicked up as they moved on, it occurred to Carter that Nevada wasn't really all that diferent to Mars - on the surface, anyway.

Nevada held life, the most blatant of differences.

For long minutes she looked out of the window, once again numbed by what she was about to attempt. Those minutes could have spread into hours or even days; time seemed to have stopped long ago, just one gigantic moment stretching until her task was complete.

A dark impression spread across the horizon, eclipsing much of the desert surroundings. The Ark was visible well before any of the hastily constructed stands and other seating arrangements for the spectators, and it still sent a shiver of excitement down Carter's spine when she saw it.

The Ark was made of smooth sections, basically spherical and triangular at the same time. It curved in sharp, angular contortions where massive engines and thrusters poked outwards, along with other instruments vital to the mission.

Its unusual appearance was augmented by the cargo it carried: the heavy quantities of fuel and rations necessary to the crew - as well as the waste recyclers; complete genebanks (genetic records of every creature on Earth); algae to change Mars's atmosphere; 'seeds' to be spread across the planet during descent, holding equipment for future settlers; small electronic robots to repair damage sustained during their long voyage; complete duplicates of all Earth information and resources; and much more besides. Everything that was or had been created by them was here in some form to guarantee the survival of Earth beliefs and accomplishments should the worst happen with the Leviathan asteroid.

That possibility was becoming more likely as the days passed, as what many were calling Judgement Day approached. The thought of losing her world along with everything and everyone she valued terrified Carter, as well as most of the population. The Ark was little more than faint insurance for Earth's continued survival, and Carter wasn't convinced it would work. If there was no one left alive, then who would settle the planet anyway?

Soon, she supposed, she would know if her lack of confidence was well placed.

The van rolled on towards the launchpad.

6.

Once they'd been delivered to their numerous places inside the facilities nearby it was time to board. Johnson and Talbot and Carter walked through corridors lined with people and staff, all applauding as they moved past, though none of the astronauts could hear them from inside their suits.

For Carter, who'd never appreciated a fuss being made over her, it was a somewhat creepy sendoff.

Their families were among the people present, here for a final goodbye.

Carter smiled at Mark when she saw him and came to a stop, kneeling down beside her children and hugging them. The thick folds of her pressure suit made it so she could hardly feel them, but she knew they hugged her back all the same.

Carter shared an equally tender moment with her husband, then withdrew before she lost control of her emotions. Johnson and Talbot were concluding their own farewells.

Soon they marched further forward and the familiar faces were swallowed by the widespread mass of people.

7.

Outside, thousands of people cheered as they walked towards their command module. Most were dignitaries visiting from around the world, Presidents and Prime Ministers and Chancellors, and so on. Filling up the dominant portions of hastily constructed seating were members of the world media, eager to capture the historic moment. Further back were television and film stars, producers and directors and screenwriters. Numerous best-selling authors were present as well. Down on the lowest levels of seating a full orchestra entertained the crowd. Though Carter couldn't hear the music, she thought it was probably the theme of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Or maybe 2001: A Space Odyssey. She shrugged. Films (and a book) she personally did not like anyway.

It saddened her that so few average people were part of the crowd. After all, they were the reason the astronauts were going to Mars. A testament to the changed times, she supposed.

The astronauts saluted the crowd and continued on their way.

8.

"Roger. Everything looks good up here. We're ready to go, Mission Control.

Over," Johnson said from inside the Ark's control center.

He was studying his various readouts, completing the checks and reporting back to the ground on their readiness. Carter had been brought onboard for geology rather than pure science and understood little of the exchange taking place. Instead she focused on the people below. The mass-gathering was so large she was partly surprised the space station in orbit couldn't detect them.

Voices from the ground filtered back to them over their comm: "Guidance?"

"Go."

"EECOM?"

"Go."

"Boosters?"

"Go."

"Rockets?"

"Go.

"Ark, you are cleared to launch. Good luck."

"Mission Control, roger that. Thanks. We're at T-Minus twenty and counting. Over."

"Confirmed, Ark. Ready engines. Over."

"Roger."

Talbot activated switches before him, taking control, and the Ark's mighty engines ignited, twin plumes of fire streaking out underneath them.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Launch."

Again Talbot reached forward and pulled down on his console and the remaining engines thundered to life, reverberations echoing throughout the Ark and into Carter's bones until she thought they would shatter. For several seconds the vehicle fought to reach its full capacity of thrust, then lifted into the sky and the skaking vibrations ceased.

More technical information came over the comm, but Carter filtered this out, relying on the actions of those around her rather than the words they spoke. Still, Johnson and Talbot worked well together, she saw, completing the necessary procedures without risk. Soon the first-stage engines expended their fuel and peeled away, followed by the second-stage and the Ark was left only with thrusters.

The International Space Station would be their first stop, fitted with special equipment they would need... including fuel for the experimental engines to take them to Mars via a unique conversion of carbon-to-hydrogen fuel feeding off organic matter.

They completed their climb and angled off towards the station, the streaking star the crowd had seen sparking across the sky before finally disappearing in a last blaze of light.

For a long moment Carter was disoriented as a cold darkness spread all around her, an unintelligible void intersected by a billion pricks of light. Then she glanced down, saw the majestic marble that was the Earth far below.

From this distance, her planet looked eerily tranquil against the oppressive blank of space, a beautiful optical illusion of life against the dead, murky twilight. Ocean and continent blended together into one harmonious whole, frothing white clouds and polar caps capturing the majesty. All seemed to move together in a rhythmic dance none were truly aware they participated in, obstructing the view of the other from above with spirals of colour.

"Wow," Carter exclaimed.

"It's impressive the first time you see it." Johnson looked at her and smiled.

"The first time is always the best. Enjoy it."

"It's still pretty damn impressive if you ask me," Talbot said gruffly.

"Yes," Carl Johnson replied distantly. "That's our world down there, guys.

That's what we're leaving behind. Remember it."

Carter nodded and leaned back in her harness as they approached the station to collect the last of their cargo. She bent to retrieve the Personal Preference Kit she'd packed earlier. Within it, among other items she held too dear to part with, was her gold cross. It reflected the faint light of the stars as she carefully held it before her, and the gentle curve of Earth as well.

Their mission was, at last, beginning.

Book 2.

9.

The Ark sailed across the dark, foreboding ocean of space, ferrying its human occupants and cargo between the distance of the stars, a large metal can constantly buckling under stresses exerted from outside.

Small ruptures continually ate away at the spacecraft, degrading the hull inch by gradual inch. The touch of a button would send worker robots into an orbit around the Ark where they'd use equipment attached to their small bodies (maneuvering with jetpacks expelling blue-tinged fuel behind them) to repair the ruptures.

They - the repair robots - willingly engaged in what was quite simply a suicide mission for them, their programming forbidding even the contemplation of another possibility; they carried minimal fuel independent to the Ark and it was exhausted by the time the repairs were effected. They would then push away from the Ark and drift free into space to freeze until their circuits processed no more commands and they died, little more than scrap drifting in the weightless, lifeless void...

Over the two years of their voyage to Mars, Carter had seen many of these robots sacrifice themselves, at least half a thousand. At first this had saddened her; though she knew they were only robots, not able to truly think and learn and experience (at least not by human standards) and live, it still seemed that in some way they existed. But as time went on during the long, isolated voyage and as the process became more systematic (launch, repair, death, repeat), she'd begun to care less and now it mattered little to her.

They were nearing Mars. That was what mattered.

The descent to the Martian surface would begin soon. The Red Planet swam before them, so alien and dead when compared to the beautiful planet they'd left; somehow it seemed more like a powerful entity, almost omnipotent, the Mars of myth and legend, perhaps. Mars appeared all encompassing, a massive quantity of rustic, barren desolation sweeping from core to surface.

Peaks of clouds sparkled against the red, contrasts to dark craters etched over millennia of asteroid and comet bombardment into the surface. Olympus Mons stretched up infinitely into the sky, twice as high as Everest - but, strangely, less difficult to climb. The mountain was a natural welcoming beacon, beckoning them down.

Staring down, Carter found herself dreaming of setting foot on the planet without the aide of astronaut suits, feeling the soil underneath her fingers and toes rather than plastic and metal, even if she knew that to be impossible. The atmosphere was much thinner and colder than she was accustomed to, starved of oxygen with high quantities of carbon dioxide as well as nitrogen and argon and neon and krypton and xenon. Its atmospheric pressure was different to pleasant human conditions as well, less than one hundredth than that present on Earth. Temperatures recorded by passing probes dispatched well over a decade ago (these observations restricted to the probe's short orbit and the available sections and then season) indicated daytime temps topping minus thirty-one degrees Celsius, and minus hundred-twenty-four at night.

Carter would die most uncomfortably within a few seconds if she went out unaided; her head would explode, or she would not be able to draw breath in the thick and unfamiliar atmosphere, or one of another thousand horrible possibilities.

So rather than dwell on false, if tantalising illusions, she studied the clouds and the surface from the relative safety the Ark provided. There were several types of clouds spread out across the surface; pink clouds of dust, blue of ice-crystals and white of water vapour. Mixed together they seemed subtle but strangely vivid too, almost captivating.

The polar caps were mostly visible, only partly obscured by the blue ice-crystal clouds. With it currently being one of the colder, wetter seasons on Mars (which stretched for twice as long as on Earth, incidentally), they were swollen larger than their usual size.

Carter was slightly disappointed by their timing. She would've loved to have seen the maria (seas without water running across the Martian surface), but they weren't present yet because of the season. Caused by the blowing of sand and dust that covers - and ends up uncovering - parts of the surface, the maria were thought to be spectacular.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. They were unbelievably close after so long but they still had to land, and staring at the planet wasn't going to accomplish anything. "What's our ETA?"

"Approximately twenty five min until the upper atmosphere," Talbot said, checking his instruments.

"You're sure you can put this thing down?" Johnson asked.

He momentarily side-stepped the question. "I can't see the landing point.

Anyone got visual?"

"Yeah." Carter had a magnified image of Mars on a screen before her. She transferred this to Talbot. "The plateau looks clean, as our probes showed."

"Yes, that it does," Talbot agreed. "Wind's not strong, no storm activity... at least not where we're landing. Should be easy enough."

Carter smiled. Mars drew closer, a tangible presence before them.

10.

The Ark plummeted through the thin atmosphere to the Martian surface, its nose reddening and blistering, the metal heating all around them.

Carter had to admit Talbot flew well, negotiating the strong resistance and pressure currents all around them without too much difficulty. Under his steady guidance they arced further downwards, gently decreasing speed as they went.

"Our altitude looks right," he said, engrossed in his work. "Time to deploy our cargo."

"Okay. Open bay doors," Johnson instructed.

Carter leaned forward and pulled down on the lever that opened them. A status light flickered red and she ignored it. The doors fell in place, completing their rotation. "Doors open," she reported.

"I've got the equipment." Johnson touched his panel, hands flicking over it with uncanny speed. Carter twisted in her seat to see conveyor belts carrying various packages out of the Ark's now-open rear. First came crates full of algae, then black capsules with various pieces of equipment and instruments future settlers would need - the 'seeds' with the utensils within to construct a future for Mars. "It's ready for descent."

"Beginning spiral. Hold on."

Talbot clutched his controls and sent the Ark into a slow spin. The cargo jerked several times then fell clear, the spin spreading the various pieces to random locations on Mars where they'd be collected during later missions. Carter caught a glimpse of a thousand shapes fall sharply, a continuing stream of packages diminishing into nothing more than airborne blots against the sky as the Ark went by, then all vanished.

She turned back and, without looking, Carter pulled the lever back to its earlier position. The cargobay doors closed and reality spun needlessly for several moments until Talbot ended their spiral. Still present inside the bay were the anchored crates of data which held electronic representations of much of Earth's achievements. These were too valuable to simply dump from the air and would have to be left manually before the return trip.

Apart from the constant beeping of their many instruments all around them, everything was conducted in an eerie quiet. Their radio had been silent for the most part for months, the transition time between messages too great for a real conversation, and Talbot and Johnson didn't seem to feel the need yet to communicate their descent.

They tumbled further and Talbot activated the various systems. After some fiddling he managed to lock in the plateau's coordinates, confirming the landing area. He constantly checked their trajectory, making precise alterations when he discovered they'd drifted slightly off-course.

Several tense minutes stretched where no one spoke. Suddenly Carter felt her stomach protest as the Ark flipped upside down and their perspective changed, the triangular landing gear extending from beneath them... or above them... whatever...

Mars had become but a slowing blur of rustic movement in their combined gaze, a marvelous sight that would either welcome them or kill them.

"Last chance, Pete," Johnson said. "We can still abort."

Talbot shook his head. "Trust me, I can do it."

"Ready?"

"Hell yeah, I was born ready."

Johnson pressed the red button labeled DESCENT in small white text. "Here we go," he said. "Ignition."

The engines kicked out and for an unnerving second gravity had them. The Ark plummeted like a giant stone, then the descent thrusters fired and leveled the spacecraft. Talbot gripped his joystick tightly, each jerk of his wrist changing their trajectory. All the simulations in the world couldn't prepare a person; he was doing well considering the immense pressure placed upon his shoulders alone.

The thrusters caused a loud vibration to rattle through the Ark. It echoed deep within Carter's head, making concentration difficult. And down below craters and rocks and dunes and other features flashed by, utterly incredible when seen by the naked eye.

Suddenly the cockpit exploded with a cacophony of voices, the astronauts talking each other through the necessary proceedures to land. The technical jargon spilling out of their mouths was like something from another language.

Carter felt a small smile form as she thought she was hearing Martian.

The smile turned into a grimace as they hit the ground with brutal force.

The Ark shook as it grated across rocky terrain (the plateau was still full of rocks that could hurt the Ark even if it was clear of relatively more dangerous obstacles) and pieces of metal from seeveral sections sheared off, spewing up high in the air before falling to the ground in a shower of fiery debris.

The Ark bounced several times, creating a horrendously offensive noise, before settling. Talbot cut the throttle and the vibrations and accompanying rattle ceased, as did all movement. Fortunately, no severe damage had been done; the Ark was still in one piece.

For a long moment no one said anything; then, Talbot slowly leaned back and let loose a heavy sigh. "Not a bad piece of landing," he said.

Margaret Carter felt like laughing.

11.

From deep inside the landed spacecraft, holding a video camera to capture the historic moment, Carter watched Johnson take the first steps onto an alien world, the first human steps on Mars.

Suited in a variation of the traditional white spacesuit, he didn't really look human out there but that didn't change the significance of this moment, a moment that would belong to both him and history for eternity...

but then again eternity could be a very short time if there was no one around to experience it.

His feet left deep impressions in the sand and kicked up dust as he walked, splashing his white suit a dark red-brown. Actually, he didn't really walk so much as lope. The lower gravity transformed small steps into larger, longer ones, making him seem to be attempting to impersonate John Wayne. To a degree, at least.

Seeing this made Carter realise just how different Mars really was. Before it had simply been statistics drilled into her memory and a projected thought-pattern including those same statistics, but now she was here she could see how it would change much of Earth life if the terraforming operation continued unhampered.

Sport, for instance, would have to be in divisions of places - well, worlds, really - as Mars might give some sportsmen (and sportswomen) and other competitors a distinctly unfair advantage; professional weight-lifters, for example, could lift hundreds more tons on Mars because of its lower gravity.

Aerobics and balance would be much easier for gymnasts here, as well, somersaults and such lasting much longer with similarly lowered degrees of difficulty.

And, of course, there were mountains like Olympus Mons that, while being much larger (the summit of Olympus Mons the highest point in the solar system), were also flatter and thus easier to climb in comparison to Everest.

Plus, the polar region of Mars would always be a hostile place, more dangerous (and thus more exciting) than Antarctica for the adventurers and the Scotts of the future to explore.

Terraforming the planet, changing its conditions, would make Mars more hospitable for human life - but it was a slow process taking the better part of a century to be fully complete. The algae released in the atmosphere would fall to the ground where, over a period of decades, they'd reproduce and create oxygen, slowly changing the atmosphere, and new plants would grow to assist the process, but still it would take a long time. The first settlers would have to use the tools and equipment stored within the 'seeds' to create enclosures to reside away from the planetary conditions, primarily the lack of comfortable shelter from the dangerous sandstorms, and other phenomena so far undiscovered.

None of this would matter, though, if the Leviathan struck. Mars needed people to populate it and, no matter what Julian Parker said or what his corporation believed, a few thousand colonists on Mars wouldn't guarantee human survival. It'd only postpone the inevitable for, without Earth support, those on Mars would die as well, and probably more horribly than those on Earth, killed near-instantaneously in an asteroid impact.

Earth obviously had plans for its survival (nuclear strikes on the asteroid when it approached to deflect it marginally off course was the primary one), but it was quite likely they wouldn't work; the weapons could simply fragment the asteroid into several pieces. Without anything guaranteed to work, Earth was facing its doom in fifty years.

Carter, careful to keep the camera focused, looked down at the gold crucifix once again. Perhaps only God could help them now, or perhaps it was simply meant to be, she didn't know.

Her gaze lingered on her cross a moment longer, then returned back to Carl Johnson. He was setting up a United States flag, poking the pole deep into the ground. Carter captured it all.

She couldn't wait to be out there herself, looking at everything that was Mars - the sand, the rocks, and everything else that defined the dusty, barren, desolate planet -, but for now it was Johnson's moment of fame and she couldn't begrudge him that. She was destined to have hers soon (even if she didn't want the fame itself, just the experience of Mars), and she could wait.

The fate of the Earth may well be undecided, but by reaching Mars without much assistance from government space agencies they'd shown they possessed the will and the spirit to survive, that normal people could reach the stars. And that, surely, had to count for something. The future would decide itself, but for now Mars was the present and Carter was more than content with that.

Johnson danced across the rust desert covering the Martian surface; even from this distance she could see the glee in his expression, the sheer joy at the accomplishment, the fact that all their sacrifices had been worth it. He gave the camera a wave, then was off again.

Margaret Carter couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

They truly were on another world.

The Ark and its genetic material were intact, ensuring no matter what happened to them that there was a chance of life on Mars, a chance for survival.

No matter the future of Earth, no matter the possible outcome, here they were on Mars, a fiery planet of desolation baring the seed of life.

The adventure was just beginning and Mars was but the start.

THE END.

If we do discover a complete theory about our lives and all existing things it should in time be understandable in broad principle to everyone, not just a few scientists. Then we shall all - philosophers, scientists, and just ordinary people - be able to take part in the discussion of the question of why it is that we and the universe exist. If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason, for then we would know the mind of God.

--- Stephen Hawking,
A Brief History of Time.