Bill was troubled. After the ship had turned around, messages and news from the Solar team had become less and less abnormal and more and more late. After reaching Proxima the signals were normal radio, although they seemed to have come from the future. Actually, the messages were from the future but so were they, having traveled through time a lot faster than normal. The newest messages were also four years old.
But what troubled Bill as he did his normal morning pilot room duties was another signal, weird like a ship was transmitting while approaching incredibly fast. It would be the next day before the computers could translate it into sound and pictures. It disturbed him a little. Earthians? No, Earth was a shambles. Broken. It was impossible. Maybe non-human intelligent species from another star? Even though no alien life had ever contacted the solar system, and no one had found alien life before the Sirius expedition, were we alone? If not, was the alien life dangerous?
He finished his duties and went to the commons, both curious and slightly worried. Should he have the robots construct weapons? He would know after the radio transmission was decoded. As normal, the crew and passengers would be informed only if there was a need for them to know the information. Worry can be deadly, as it can lead to mindless panic.
He sat at the bar next to Jerry. Bill had forgotten that he and Ralph had access to all the information he had access to, as it had been almost nine years since the trip started, ship’s time. After pleasantries, Jerry said “You look a little uneasy.”
Again, Bill suspected mind-reading, one of the myths about that science. “No, not really.”
“You’re worried about that transmission.”
“What transmission?” Now he was sure Jerry and Ralph could read minds. They couldn’t, of course, but psychologists were trained in the art of reading body language.
“The one from the ship that’s headed this way. Why are you so nervous?”
“From the signal’s frequency it looks like they’ll be here in a month.”
“So?”
“So what if they’re aliens?”
“What do you mean? Earthians?”
“No, inhuman people from another star!”
It was an effort for Jerry to keep from laughing, and he couldn’t help breaking into a huge grin. “Look, Bill, it’s not likely they would have developed the same technology as us.”
“Radio waves are radio waves. Earth is too poor to send probes any more and it can’t be from Mars. Look, don’t say anything to anybody.”
“Ralph has access, too.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot you guys have full access. But I’m worried.”
“Outside too much?”
“What do you mean?”
“Agoraphobia.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “I grew up in Canada!”
“Don’t you live underground up there?”
“Up there? Huh?”
“Up on Earth.”
“Oh, it’s not like a spacer dome. Earthians go outside whenever they can. It’s just that nobody said anything about a second ship so it’s not from Mars, and Earth is flat broke so it couldn’t come from there.”
Joe was high and “walked” up on a cushion of air and sat down. It looked humorous. Walt had become the defacto leader planetside, subject to Bill’s orders. Joe was the only one in the band still living in zero gravity. Will spent most of his time in the mountains. Mike Walton, a biologist, was with him, wishing he had paleontology training but looking for anything that looked like fossils, anyway, despite his lack of education in that field. He had books, but...
“What’s up, guys?” Joe said. He was in a really good mood, having come up from generator and engine inspections without having to climb stairs.
“We are,” Jerry said. “You guys play tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll fly down after morning inspections. You going?”
“I can’t,” Bill said. “The ship needs a captain. I can see it in the commons.”
Jerry laughed. “I need to guard the nuthouse!” Joe laughed.
Linda Middleton and Mark Whitney were on the planet, mixing their own feces with dirt from Anglada and planting popcorn and ganja seeds. They’d had the robots construct an outhouse without digging a pit underneath to collect dung, then had the robots move the structure for further tests with fresh manure.
Mark said “Think they’ll grow?”
“No, there isn’t much carbon dioxide here. But we’ll see.”
They were in a patch of ground just outside Linda’s house. Mark lived in the Earthian ship, which had mostly stopped stinking after they aired it out in space before replacing the air. After reading the manuals, Joe had flown over and studied its engines and fixed its radios before Walt flew it down.
The ghost of Earth’s stench was still there, though. They washed up in Linda’s house, then Mark went home.
Up in orbit, Bill had finished breakfast, and when Joe lit a joint, Bill left and went to the pilot room and had the robots print out weapons, both projectile and energy.
Just in case. It would take a week.
The next day the computers finished decoding it. It was aliens.
Aliens from Earth.
“Attention, spacers: You are trespassing on our territory. We claimed the planet the day after we sent the robot ship. Exit immediately or you will be removed.”
Bill was flabbergasted. What the hell? He started reaching for the phone to reply, but decided that in addition to weapons he needed a diplomat. As if on cue, the pilot room’s doorbell rang. It was Jerry. “Did you see...”
“Yeah, I was just getting ready to call you. Those Earthians are stupid.”
Jerry smirked. “How else could you ruin a planet? Of course they’re stupid. Let me talk to ‘em.”
“They’re still too far away, give it a week.”
“If we have to. We can’t let it stand, though. They don’t have ownership just because they say they do. They’ve never even been here!”
“Well, Doctor, I have a suggestion. Use your brain magic on ‘em. Scare the hell out of them, make them wish they’d stayed on Earth where they belong.”
“We’ll need weapons,” Jerry said simply.
“Already on it, had the robots start yesterday. We should be armed in a week. Robots down on Anglada are making even more.”
“The passengers will have to know.”
“The book...”
“Fuck the damned book! They didn’t count on interstellar war when they wrote that damned thing. People here will need to be armed.”
“I can’t agree to that, but we can set up a police force of sorts for the planet. Arming everybody is begging for trouble. You’re a psychologist, you ought to know that.”
Jerry looked sheepish, having let his emotions override his reason and training. “I do. But I worry.”
“We don’t need to tell the passengers yet. But get a speech together.”
“You should give the speech.”
“I agree. But you’re the shrink, you need to write it. Let them know without scaring them, it’s those skinny little Earthian bastards we need to scare.”
“Okay. I need coffee. And breakfast.”
“Me, too. I’ll go with you.”
As they floated down the hallway, an invisible light bulb lit brightly over Jerry’s head, its brightness equally invisible. “Hey! I’m not going to talk to the Earthians, the computer is!”
“I don’t get it.”
“You want scary? How about if their message was answered by the voice of God, or since we want to scare them, the voice of Satan? You know how Bob sang in harmony with himself, sometimes with a female voice the first time he played? I’ll talk to Bob and see if he can rig something with his equipment.”
“Good idea, but I’ll have to talk to Bob. Knowledge of the Earthians is still on a ‘need to know’ basis.”
“I should be there, too.”
“Yes, I think so. I need you!” He looked at his phone. “In his workshop.” They went there, breakfast and coffee forgotten.
“Come in, guys, what can I do for you fellows today? Guitar lessons?”
Jerry said “No, we need your help with some electronics.”
Bill added “This is secret, understand. We don’t want to scare the passengers...”
“You just scared me!”
Bill sighed. “We don’t want to scare the passengers unnecessarily. But we need your expertise. Can you keep quiet, or would you rather upset passengers?”
“Garlic radish! WHAT?”
Jerry smiled and said “Aliens are coming.”
Bob’s eyes got big. “Aliens? Space aliens from Andromeda? What kind of aliens?”
“Ones from Earth. They say they claimed this planet when they launched the robot and they want us to leave. I’m pretty sure none of the scientists want to. Well, maybe the biologists.”
“Well, what’s the plan? What do I need to do?”
The next night was Saturday (formerly known as Sunday), and Bob proved able to keep a secret, indeed, showing no hint that anything was wrong.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Tonight we not only have some songs you haven’t heard, but some brand new instruments. New to you, they’re centuries old!”
Nobody laughed, and Bob pretended not to care, pulling out his harmonica and starting an ancient blues tune about trains. This despite the fact that he had no idea what a “train” was. Later, Joe showed off his new cowbell with an ancient rock and roll song. Not being Earthian, he knew what cows and cowbells were.
There were only a half dozen people on the orbiting ship, the rest on the planet enjoying the show. Bill and Jerry actually got to watch from the commons for a change. Harold was watching it live, the first time in the expedition.
Bill hadn’t thought about what the passengers would think when seeing the robots constructing weapons, but it didn’t matter. Nobody noticed robots or had any interest in what they were doing any more than any other machinery, unless it malfunctioned.
The next day they sent their reply, in a voice from the depths of hell, seemingly savoring the terror it was inducing. “You err, Earthlings.” That’s good, Bill thought. Earthlings!
“We are Angladicans. We have colonized this planet and you cannot take it away. Return to Earth, puny little Earthlings! Or face the certain and slow, horribly painful death that you will beg for.”
MacPherson was terrified and responded immediately. “No! Please, I can’t! I have no control over the ship! It’s a robot! That was a recorded message. I don’t even want to be here!”
“How many crew?” Bill asked through the computer in the Satanic voice, surprised and amused. Good job on the voice of Satan, he thought. The poor fellow sounded scared half out of his wits.
MacPherson gave a nervous giggle. “Just me.”
“What?”
“Sorry, just me. I’m the only one.”
“How long have you been alone?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Eight years? Seven years? Twenty years? What year is it, they said time would change.”
Jerry told him in his normal voice “Your government no longer exists.”
“What?”
“It didn’t as of fifteen years ago. Look, son, I can help you.”
“How?”
Bill said “Can you land?” also in his normal voice; Beelzebub was no longer needed, it seemed.
“Uh, they say it can land but I’ve never done it. It’s a robot ship.”
Bill said “We’ll send someone to pick you up when you reach orbit. Two weeks?”
“About that.”
“Okay, call us when you reach orbit.” He switched off the radio. “How about that?”
“Short war. They thought one guy could scare us away?”
“Apparently. Let’s get a beer.”
While on their way, Jerry called Ralph to inform him that the invasion had been called off, and the invader had defected. Bill got out his own phone and called everybody.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is no cause for concern, but there’s a visitor from Earth on his way. He should be here in a week or two. Please don’t be too hateful towards him.” He then called Walt to have him greet the visitor in a friendly manner when he arrived. Not enough captains, he thought. He had to stay on the ship, and Walt had to stay on the planet, company rules.
He arrived the Saturday morning after next. Bill decided to have Joe be acting captain while he ferried the Earthian to the planet. Later, he realized he should have sent Jerry or Ralph.
It looked nearly identical to the Earthian ship on the planet, so getting inside was a lot easier than when they had entered that one. Knowing that this ship was occupied by a human, he didn’t bother with an environment suit as Joe had in the robot ship when he had repaired its radios.
When he landed in the Earthian ship and the pressure equalized, he opened the lander’s door and wished he had worn a suit. God, but the stench was overpowering! The craft’s air cleaner switched itself to its highest setting, and Bill felt like vomiting.
A door opened and a greasy little skinny man came out. Bill went to shake his hand, and the Earthian didn’t seem to understand the gesture. “I’m Bill Kelly, captain of the ship that brought us here. I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh, sorry, I’m Duane MacPherson.”
“Nice to meet you, Duane, where are you from?”
“Earth.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “Where on Earth?”
“Arizona, but I was born in Scotland.”
“Really? I lived in Flagstaff for a few years back when I was married.”
“You’re Earthian? You don’t look like it. How did you escape?”
“I was a GOTS captain before Earth was a dictatorship. It was founded by Earthians, you know.”
“Really? I thought that was just false propaganda.”
“No, it’s really true. If I remember right, its founders were from Illinois.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I told you, I’ve been in space since ships’ generators were fission!”
“How can that be? You would have to be...”
“About two seventy five maybe, I haven’t done the math since we got here.”
“But how... how can you be that old?”
“Didn’t they tell you about time dilation?”
“Only a little and I didn’t understand it.”
“How old were you when you left?”
“Nineteen. No, twenty. I think.”
“You’re around forty or so now, depending on what year you left and how fast you went. I’ve been captain most of my life. I’d be dead if I’d stayed married, but went back to space.”
“Do all you spacers live that long?”
“No, the life expectancy is ninety five, but that’s stationary years. I’ve only physically experienced about sixty eight or nine years. Are you still getting reports from Earth?”
“No, and it has me worried.”
“I guess so. You didn’t know your civilization collapsed?”
“No! How...?”
“Pandemic killed three billion people. The last billion would have died were it not for us spacers. I just saw the report a couple weeks ago. It’s been at least fifteen years, stationary time. Space medicine and surplus space tube food kept the rest alive.”
“Is there any way to find out if anyone I know sur-vived?”
Bill shook his head. “A message takes four years, one way.”
Duane looked like he was fighting back tears. Bill said “Did you ever hear real music?”
“Well, sure, I have a computer.”
“No, I mean real music, played on actual instruments by human beings like they had before computers were invented.”
“It doesn’t exist.”
“Bet on that and you’ll lose.” He landed thankfully and was in as much of a hurry to get out of the lander and its stench as he had been in a hurry to reach the surface. “Leave that door open, okay?”
He introduced Duane to Ralph and Walt, and showed him one of the new houses the robots had built, especially the bathroom and how everything in it worked, because Earthians stunk! At least this one did. As diplomatically and tactfully as he could manage, he said “Welcome to your new home! I’ll bet you can’t wait to get cleaned up. We don’t want to stink up your new house, I’ll wait in the living room. Oh, what size clothes do you wear? I’ll print some.”
Bill didn’t know that there had never been modern looms on Earth. Duane stood there with a puzzled expression on his face as Bill went to the living room.
After Duane had bathed and donned his new duds, they went for lunch to the restaurant that the robots had built when they were building houses. The fancy sign read “The Commons.”
They went inside and sat down, and holographic menus appeared. “I don’t see the limits,” Duane said.
“Limits? What do you mean?”
“The ration.”
Bill was flabbergasted. “No rations, take what you want.”
“Really? As much as I want? No rations?”
“Nope.”
Although there were no robots in eye shot, Bill said “Robot: pork tenderloin, green beans, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy. What are you having?”
“What you are, I guess.”
“Robot, make that two identical orders. Do you have any skills, Duane?”
“Not really, I joined the Space Force right after high school.”
“I’m just a high school grad, too, but most of the people on this planet hold PhDs.”
A robot brought their orders. After a single bite, Duane’s eyes got big and he said “Wow! What IS this?”
“Something wrong with it?” Damn, did the machinery break down?
“No! Damn, I never tasted anything this good in my life! Uh, why are there so many PhDs?”
“We’re a science expedition like you used to have on Earth. Where do you want to go when we get back? Surely not Earth?”
“Why not?”
Bill was flummoxed. “You don’t mind dictatorship and crime and hunger and the rest of the nonsense on Earth?”
“I’ve heard stories about how bad the spacers have it,” he mumbled through a full mouth.
Bill laughed. “Son, you sure got a lot to learn! Those damned people filled you poor souls with so much bullshit it’s coming out of your ears! I’ll have Jerry show you the history library, it’s on every phone and tablet, even walls if you want it there. I asked about skills, but you really don’t need any.”
“No skill needed for a shovel, eh?”
“Shoveling is for robots. There’s no forced labor in space, we get a paycheck from the government. You get extra if you work, and after you turn sixty. You have to retire at sixty. Hey, are you okay?”
Duane’s head was spinning. You don’t have to work? and... “Yeah, this is, uh, kind of unexpected. What’s ‘retire’?”
“There aren’t enough jobs for everyone who wants one, so you’re not allowed to work past age sixty. That’s when you have to retire, and your government check gets bigger.”
Duane was dumbfounded, and looked it. Bill took out his phone and called Ralph. “Can you meet us in the EC’s bar?” he asked, referring to the entertainment center. This certainly called for a psychologist. He really should have sent Ralph to meet Duane.
After talking to Ralph, he told Duane “I think you’ll like our entertainment center. Oh, don’t cross any red lines, you’ll bump your nose.”
They got up, having finished their lunch, and went to a different part of the building and sat down at the bar. Bill said “Robot, two Knolls lagers. You have anything like this on Earth?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You have holograms?”
“Yeah.”
The robot brought their beer. Duane said “On Earth we have human waiters.”
“Yeah, on Mars and the asteroids, too, but there were only a limited number of passenger slots on our flight. Most waiters and bartenders only do it for a little extra money, anyway.”
Duane sipped his beer. “I never had anything like this before!”
“You never had beer?”
“Never heard of it.”
“They don’t have beer on Earth?”
“Maybe for rich people, I don’t know. You folks seem to live like royalty.”
“Well, your planet is a dictatorship. Was, anyway, when you left. When you have dictators, you have peasants. I’ll bet your president has all the beer he can drink!”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious he has all the food he can eat, he’s almost as fat as a spacer. No offense.”
Bill grinned. “None taken, skinny!”
Duane laughed. “Not for long,” he said, holding his belly. “I’m stuffed. I’ve never been full before. I never imagined there was such a thing as being too full, or that it could be so, uh, uncomfortable.”
Just then Ralph walked in. “Hi, Ralph. Duane, you met Ralph, right?”
“Yeah. Hi, Ralph.”
“Hi, guys, what’s up?”
“Duane is really confused by everything, it’s a different world to him. I was going to show him our wall. They don’t have anything like this on Earth.”
“Well, we have holograms.”
Bill just smiled and did something on his phone. “Let’s go see some music.”
Ralph said “Sounds good to me.”
Duane said “See music?” Ralph and Bill just grinned. They all sat at a round table near a curtained wall. A robot brought Ralph’s beer.
Bill said “Robot, play last Saturday’s show.”
The curtain rose, revealing three tables like the one they were sitting at. The one to the right had two people sitting at it, there was a restroom sign to the left, and a stage with the band on it behind the tables. Duane said “Excuse me, I have to piss” and stood up.
Bill said “Robot pause. Duane...”
“OW!” Duane said very loudly after walking into the wall, whirling around and holding his face. Bill said “Are you okay? I told you not to cross any red lines!”
Duane hadn’t noticed a thin red line at the base of every wall, and right before where the curtain had been. Harold came in. He had spent his time on the planet, where the scientists worked and most people were living. Bill said “Hi, Doc. This is Duane, he bumped his nose.”
“I’ll bet that hurts. Here,” the doctor said, putting an in-strument on Duane’s forehead. “Leave that on for half an hour. You can wash up if you want.”
The doctor had caught the alien red handed; red with his own blood. Duane said “Did I just try to walk into a hologram?”
“Yeah,” Bill said.
“Wow, Earth’s can’t hold a candle to yours. You can tell it’s not real there. Where’s the real rest room?”
That evening Bill was back in orbit, because space ships need captains and bands need musicians. Duane met the band by the real stage.
“I saw last week’s show, was that real?”
Bob said “What do you mean? It was a hologram.”
“No, did the computer make it?”
Bob looked surprised. “No, it’s a recording of last Saturday’s performance.”
“That was really you guys? You can really do that?”
Will laughed and picked up his guitar and started playing the tune he had originally played for Bob eight years earlier, thirty years in the past.
“Hey,” Duane said, “I recognize that tune but I don’t remember it sounding that good!”
Will stopped playing and smiled. “Thanks!”
Bob lit a joint, took a toke, and passed it. Duane said “What the hell? What’s that?”
Bob let his toke out and coughed. “You don’t have ganja on Earth?”
“No,” he said, marveling at the smoke going into the ash tray as if it wanted to.
“Want to try it?” Bob asked.
“Well, I don’t know, why?”
Bob smiled. “It gives you a whole new perspective on life, and since you’re from Earth you could probably use it.
“Let me pee first,” Duane said before getting up and falling down. “What...”
“Oh shit,” Ralph said. “He’s drunk. My fault.” He called Harold. “Could you send a brain stabilizer to the EC? I have a drunken Earthian on my hands.”
Doc came in and held a device to Duane’s forehead for a minute while looking at his tablet. “Look, Duane, don’t drink so fast.”
Alcohol and muggles were both brand new to the little Earthian, who seemed like a child to these elderly spacers. He was only about twenty eight, biologically.
He felt like a child around these big old geezers. He went to the rest room. When he got back, Bob had a full bong and a “Farstik,” a brand of bong lighter that looked like an antique wooden kitchen match. “Here,” he said. “Hit this when we start playing.” He hit it once himself, showing Duane how, then refilled it.
“Just hit it once,” Ralph cautioned.
By then the place was filling up nicely and the band got on stage. Bob started the show.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Our first song is an ancient tune called ‘Bad Moon Rising.’ I have no clue what a bad moon might be, Phobos, maybe?” A few in the audience laughed.
Duane held the lighter by its ignition points like Bob had showed him, and a flame appeared at the end. He hit the bong and instantly began coughing and wheezing, tears in his eyes. Ralph laughed. “Dude, not so much, these guys are used to it.”
“Wow!” He started coughing again. The song was over before his coughing fit was. “Robot! Beer!”
From the back of the room someone yelled “Packle!”
“Bang boom boom bang, boom boom boom bang boom boom bang, boom boom boom, bang, bang bang bang bang bang” Joe’s drums sang, followed by Bob’s and Will’s guitars, then Sue’s voice.
When the show was over he was drunk and stoned and had enjoyed the first good time he’d ever had in his life, with the possible exception of his honeymoon. He felt sorry for his fellow Earthians.
Ralph helped him home and hoped he hadn’t picked up a problem. He needn’t have worried, Duane’s entire experience was unbelievable to him. To Duane, Anglada was heaven.
Anglada had everything except the alarm clock he hated and the woman he loved.
The next morning Bill was in the pilot room, and there was another radio signal that appeared to be approaching at very high speed, fast enough that the computers would have to decipher the message. More Earthians? Betelgeuse aliens? He would find out the next day. What ever, he was now armed and ready, thanks to Duane and the Earthians’ threat.
Joe went to the commons with Duane to have some breakfast before flying to the Titanic. There were quite a few tables with people eating breakfast. Duane had overdone dinner the day before, as he had overdone lunch (and drinking and partying in general), and was determined not to overdo it again this morning.
They sat at a table. The menus appeared, and Duane had never heard of any of the items on the menu and just stared at it. Ralph was reading it, but Joe was ignoring it. “Robot, ham and cheese omelette with a side of hash browns, buttered toast and raspberry jelly, black coffee and ice water.”
Ralph was still studying the menu. “I can’t decide what I want.”
Duane mostly parroted Joe’s order, substituting Knolls lager for water. Ralph looked up from his menu. “Bad idea, son.”
“Huh? What?”
“Beer in the morning. You have a lot to learn, there isn’t any beer on Earth, is there?”
“No.”
“Look, Duane, no more beer until you learn about it, okay? And none before noon! Robot, I’ll have what Joe’s having but hold the potatoes.”
Duane said “Uh, thanks, I guess. Robot, cancel beer and substitute ice water.”
Jerry looked pleased.
After breakfast Duane flew to the ship with Joe, who had to do engine inspections. Doc had, of course, given Duane a hangover remedy for the morning. The ship was home to Joe, and its engines and generators were his babies. Joe went downstairs, and Duane met Jerry, who gave him a tablet, showed him how to control wall shows, and how to use the library. He hadn’t checked the ship’s logs, but down on the planet Ralph had. He was as worried as Bill.
The next morning when the message was normalized, both were relieved that their worries were unwarranted. “Star Ship Titanic, this is the Star Ship Martian Glory with news you may not have known since you have decades to go through, but radios aren’t limited to the speed of light any more. These new ones came out right after you left Mars, you probably weren’t even past the heliosphere. However, both ends of the conversation need the new radios,” the voice said, neglecting a very important fact these pioneers would discover on their way back to Mars.
Bill paused it to think. How could photons be convinced to break the speed of light? Unable to wrap his head around the concept, he hit play, to be informed that it worked on the principle of paired electrons, where the spin of one electron showed the spin of the other, no matter how far the two electrons were separated. They had paired photons back in antiquity, and it was still only a century after paired electrons were discovered, and they had to work out a way to tell one of quintillions of electrons from any of the other quintillions, but they had managed. Not only was it not hindered by speed limits, it was impossible to eavesdrop as was the case with radio, which this acted like but wasn’t. It was Einstein’s “spooky action at a distance.” There were no radio waves involved, no photons, only paired electrons and the parts and wiring that controlled and read them.
The message also warned of a warship from Earth that had left with a platoon of soldiers a month earlier than they had. They were most likely talking about Duane, Bill figured. This was the same bluff Duane’s ship used, the poor kid.
The Martian Glory was in orbit a little more than two weeks later with several dozen soldiers, all ready to fight in the galaxy’s first known interstellar war. Joe fetched a new “radio” from there and invited the Glory’s crew to the planet for a music concert. Even in space, concerts were unknown. Jerry had the idea that Bob was going to change that.
Joe then flew down to the planet, taking Duane with him, then Will flew back in the same lander to talk to his grandson. He had been four when he had spoken with him face to face eight years ago. He’d be thirty or thirty one now.
“Grandpa! I haven’t talked to you directly since I was a little kid! Are you okay?”
Far from the bald faced child Will remembered, Billy was a fully grown bearded man. “I couldn’t be better,” Will answered. “Especially talking to you. It’s been about nine years since you were a little kid!”
Billy laughed. “My oldest is almost a teenager!”
“Really?”
“Yep!”
Later on the planet when another communication tablet had been brought down, Duane was in Ralph’s office. “But you have faster than light radio!”
“Well, it’s instantaneous but there’s no speed involved and it’s not a radio. They’re built in pairs. But I’ll see if anyone from the Solar team can find any information for you. Earth has gotten pretty primitive, they tell me.”
“I worry about my wife. We were only married six months.”
“It’s doubtful we’ll find her, it being Earth and all, but give me her name and any other identifying information and we can at least look. But if we do find her, will you want to go to Mars?”
“I want to go wherever she is.”
“After we finalize your Martian citizenship, she’ll automatically become a citizen of Mars since she’s your wife. If we find her, she can go to Mars. Let’s start working on those papers.
 
Shirley MacPherson was thirty nine and had survived the pandemic, unlike most of the people she had known. She had lived simply, on the vegetables she grew on the roof of her underground hovel, and the tubes of space food from Mars. At least the weather wasn’t as bad as it had been when she was young.
She smiled at something her neighbor said the day before. It had Shirley laughing until she was wiping tears, and then some. Agnes had said “At least we don’t have to work any more!” Hilarious because they had to work constantly just to stay alive, and not get a paycheck any more. Not even Duane’s paychecks, they had stopped during the Great Collapse.
Earth had gotten to the point that the Amish had better technology than the largest North American nation-state’s government. The underground transports had stopped decades ago. What’s more, the Amish had the only healthy earth, as they had preserved it. Earth was poor. Earth was the third world, with the uninhabitable Mercury and Venus the first two. Civilization was the “little worlds”.
And Earth was sick, maybe dying. Various governments had reassembled with the help of the spacers, although not always in the same shapes or with the same names.
She had left Arizona after the money stopped, and had kept all of Duane’s paychecks in the bank until it looked like everything was going to collapse, and bought precious metals with it. Of course, with a collapse like that, even the metals became worthless. You can’t eat silver and gold, which were only valuable on Earth, anyway.
She had remained married to the missing Duane, but settled in the Republic of Dakota. Arizona had become un-livable, and was now a wasteland. There was no life in Arizona at all. Dakota seemed to have fewer storms than other places, or so she read. You still had to live underground, especially if you wanted to eat. After all, you have to have somewhere to grow food, and most of the dirt was ruined, completely sterile, and you had to cover the real dirt with a substitute soil. Earthians were even skinnier now than when Duane left.
They would never tell her what his assignment was, where he was going, how long it would be. “Top secret” was all they would say. She wondered if he still cared. She wondered if he was still alive. She wondered why she still bothered wondering after all these years. But she still loved him dearly and missed him terribly.
Then one day the triple thump came at her door. The Dakota Government? What would they want with her? She climbed the steps and opened the above ground door. It had a small foyer with solar cells on its roof, with gutters to catch water for the cistern. A man in government garb and its distinctive red and black hat stood there. The hat clashed with his red beard. “Yes?” she inquired.
“Mrs. MacPherson?”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Shirley MacPherson?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have chairs? May I sit down?”
“Oh, certainly, I’m sorry, how thoughtless of me,” she said, detaching two chairs from the door and unfolding them. Mister...?”
“Armstrong, ma’am, Neil Armstrong. I’m from the Department of State. You’re married to an Airman First Class Duane R. MacPherson from the old empire’s space force?”
“Why, yes, is he dead?”
“Ma’am? Uh, why no. He’s...”
“He’s where? Is he okay?”
“Yes ma’am,” the government man said, taking a device out of a satchel. It was a flat thing with a transparent screen, behind which appeared another three dimensional space, with Duane’s youthful face filling part of the space. She put a hand to her graying hair. “Duane? Is that you? Are you real? How are you so young?” She felt very self-conscious, here decades since they were nineteen and he was still young. Not nineteen, but young.
“Sweetheart! God, but I missed you, especially on the trip, eight years all by myself!”
“Duane, you’ve been gone twenty.” She became angry as well as puzzled. What the hell was this nonsense? “Where did you go? Where the hell are you?”
“Anglada.”
“Where’s that, Africa?”
“No, honey, I’m four light years away on Anglada, a planet orbiting Alpha Proxima.”
“Another star?”
“Yes, the closest to the sun. I only got here a few weeks ago. Honey, I wish you could have come, this is heaven. But maybe Mars is, too.”
“Mars?”
“They tell me it’s even better than it is here! It’s hard to believe. Nobody has to work unless they want to, there’s plenty of food and really clean water. Food like I never tasted before, food from heaven! Food that made everything I ever ate before taste like rotten garbage! And as much as I want! They gave me a house here but I can go to Mars if I want.
“I wish I could!”
“Ma’am?” the government man interrupted. “You can. Your husband is a Martian citizen now, and an Angladican colonist. You’re free to go to Mars if you wish, since your husband is a citizen. Do you have any family on Earth?”
“They died in the pandemic. Most everybody thought that the spacers wanted to inject us with poison like the government said, but you could see that the ones with the injections didn’t get sick. The empire was stupid and evil. Duane said there’s all the food I want?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“When can I go to Mars?”
“Any time you want.”
“Oh, God, now?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Duane? Did you hear that?”
“Yes, dear. We’re going home!”
The government man said “You’re going now?”
“I have nothing and no one here. Let’s go!”
“You’re not taking anything?”
“No. I’m wearing my ring.”
“Surely, you jest.”
“No, Neil, I’m serious. Let’s go to Mars.”
She and Duane talked for a long time, then disconnected at the same time, if time has any meaning at all. Just say simultaneously.
Duane looked up at Ralph. “Can I go to Mars now?”
“After the last of the paperwork to cement your Martian citizenship you can take your ship there, yes.”
“But it’s a robot!”
“Talk to Joe, he got all the manuals from the other Earthian ship and studied them, and can get the documentation from your vessel, too. I’m sure he can reprogram it.”
All of a sudden it struck him how lonely he had gotten during his trip to Anglada and how welcome being around people again was. “Uh... can anybody go along? I almost went nuts all by myself on the way here.”
“Well, everybody’s free, nobody’s a captive here, but they all have projects... you know, the biologists aren’t doing anything. I’m pretty sure one will want to go,” thinking of Ed Sanchez, the fellow with the acute agoraphobia. “The other biologists may be bored, too. Put up a flier in the commons advertising rides home.”
“How do I do that?”
“Talk to Bob or Mary, they’ve both posted fliers. Bill could, too, but the poor guy’s the busiest person on the expedition. But you should make sure you can actually fly that thing home before you put up any fliers.”
“I’ll talk to Joe.”
Down on the planet, dozens of elderly scientists were young again. Will had started a number of papers, and Linda’s garden finally sprouted, after she had the robots make an outhouse into a greenhouse. Expected, where there’s no carbon dioxide there’s no plant life. Of course Sue, the agronomist who considered herself a farmer, was incredibly interested in Linda’s work.
Linda had put a large bowl of vinegar in the middle of the greenhouse and poured an eighth of a kilo of baking soda in it, and the popcorn and ganja were thriving. Mark and Linda had proven that agriculture was possible on Anglada, as long as it was in a greenhouse with carbon dioxide and there were some feces mixed in with the soil for the needed microscopic organisms.
“We need some cows,” Sue thought. But domes would have to be built first. Cattle need oxygen.
They had also made all of them colonists by growing crops, even if the crop was only popcorn and muggles.
All of the other scientists were having an equally rewarding time. Except, of course, for the bored biologists who had, all but Linda and Mark, already finished their short papers and sent them up to Mars.
Edward was finished as soon as he had first reached the planet. Jerry feared he would never get over it and doubted that once on Mars he’d ever leave again. He started thinking of ways to test for agoraphobia on Mars, or any other world where everyone was inside all the time.
He worried about what would happen on the Earthian ship, but it now had two of the new “radios,” one paired with Mars and one with Anglada. He didn’t yet know that the new communications devices wouldn’t work at all while traveling at interstellar speeds.
The Martian Glory had returned to the solar system, its secondary purpose of delivering interstellar communications completed; its primary purpose had been the interstellar war that ended before they arrived.
Now any new discoveries or inventions could be sent to Proxima immediately. With fusion physics and atomic and molecular printers, any new device could be built. All it needed was a pattern.
A day later on Earth, Shirley boarded a GOTS spaceplane to the ship that would take her to Mars.
Orbiting Anglada in the Titanic, Joe had reprogrammed Duane’s craft remotely, thankful that he didn’t have to smell its stench. He had worn an environment suit when he had repaired the radio. All of the biologists except Linda and Mark went to Mars with Duane, everyone else remaining on Anglada or in orbit around it.
Mary left for Mars with the other biologists. Jerry’s treatment had made a new woman of her.
Joe remotely opened all the Earthian ship’s vents and hatches to let all the vile air out of the craft, then closed them all and started an oxygen generator separating water into oxygen and hydrogen, while the fusion generators produced clean nitrogen from the hydrogen. The ship was ready to leave a day later, the people a day after that.
Joe ferried them to their ride home; at least, home to the solar system. This included the newest Martian who had never been to Mars, and some from asteroids.
Everyone lit doobies before Joe opened the doors, to cover the remnant of Earth’s stench. They had said their goodbyes in the Titanic. Joe shook hands with everyone and went back to the Titanic.