Red and Blue

Space, or Heavens as some may call it, is intimidating. The vast expanse of nothingness with an impeccable and crippling stare, will humble you beyond comprehension.

The reminder here was essential and the Great Corridor did just that. The glorious windows gave a spectacular view of the red planet as well while the new mechanobots and the aster-drills, part of the Energy of Natural Space or EoNS initiative, coursed like clock-work, after draining the asteroids of their wealth.

They resembled bees moving to a hive that collected, converted, and transferred precious, surplus energy. The ‘hive’ though was strangely much akin to a crab.

The Karkin-OS, that was so aptly named, moved slowly on the martian surface, making it visible from any part of the dome. The mega machine was easily mankind’s single greatest creation; not as a modern day marvel but as a modern day saviour from imminent destruction in what was an indefatigable energy crisis. There were petitions to call it Jes-OS.

The noise outside was deafening and the suits required to take Mars-walks were fitted with dampeners. The Corridor though was quiet except for the quick footsteps of a man and his tumbling Go-Fer, an advanced poly-alloy prototype with an AI that was more conscious than the aster-drills, which served as his aide.

The man checked his time despite having checked it only a couple of seconds ago.

“Sir, might I announce the time each second then?”

The man smiled. His Go-fer had picked up on classics from Earth and it associated itself so much to the British valets back then, that he began to mimic them. Emergent behaviour.

“Okay, wise guy, one more word out of you and we watch the metallurgical documentaries from Earth, maybe you’d pick up on some of those?”

The tapering pyramids glowed in a human equivalent of a gasp and skidded to a halt before tumbling over to his feet again.

“My word. That’s just barbaric!” It said before quieting down. The trade-off, it figured, was too severe.

The man loved the view from the Corridor, it gave him a lot of pride to watch how his family had become one of the first to save a part of humanity. His grandfather had been a rather warm person towards anyone and anything. A trait that didn’t quite coincide with him being obstinate. He submitted his proposal to Alpha Wolf Inc. in 1999 to invest in the two far-sighted visions that made space mining and space tours possible today.
Some called him crazy, most of the board did, but the man’s ingenuity was too valuable to let go, and they had voted in his favour. The asteroids held incredible loads of energy waiting to be tapped by us when the time came and it was quicker and cheaper for the stations to be in space (or in this case, Mars.)

The time came. Devastatingly, tragically. And it was every bit cataclysmic.

A hundred and twenty years later, humanity calls him The Father of Mars for EoNS.

He checked his time once more before boarding the shuttle. The shuttle went as fast as mach 13, except without completely knocking the wind out of him, he noticed an aster-drill being droopy and made a mental note for head-office. His Go-Fer pinged. And then, the thought that had been knocking inside his skull for the past 20 minutes was back: She can’t leave.

*
The woman couldn’t wait to go. To go back home. To the beautiful fragile planet. She watched the many blinking stars that moved slowly with the rest of the galaxy. It was the most stunning view she had ever seen in her life. Almost magical if she wasn’t a woman of science and logic.

The Balcony was filled with chattering tourists, without them, the steady beats of oxygen and air being pumped into the room would be heard. She then thought of the time she came here.

The Federation of the Fourth Fortune or FFF had been established as soon as EoNS was a go. Their first rule: The generation of tremendous amounts of energy for Earth will be permitted so long as we conserve and/or protect the fourth planet from the Sun from negligent human interference that may or may not disrupt the natural flow of its heavenly part in the galaxy.

Gluttonous milking of the proverbial cow had had its consequences on Earth. No one wanted a repeat.

As the liaison she was shipped off, so to speak, to Mars for a first-hand inspection. The woman was smart and quick to learn, even helping out in the space-engineering and terraforming department. Her suggestions had saved millions in cash and certified a better future.

Being homesick never tainted her beauty but she was miserable nevertheless.
*

The man reached the Balcony with Go-Fer and he too began reminiscing the first time he met her.

He had visited the woman a week after she had arrived. It was not uncommon to size up his opponent (if she was growing into one). The Vessel set up for her was humble to say the least. She had a garden that spoke of her and a mechanical Roly-Poly, an earlier model of Go-Fer, tended to it as she answered her door.

“Oh! Hello!” She had said, the shock in her eyes went away as quickly as it came. It was not every day she had the most famous man on both planets standing at her new doorstep.

The quick recovery and the confident demeanour never faded all through the signing-in. She had lovely eyes as well. He’d never told her that. He hadn’t told her a lot of things and now, five (Earth) years later, she had to go back.

He looked down at the document on his digi-Glass again, he needn’t be the one to do this, they had clerks for the sign-ups and relieving but he had to be here. He needed her to stay. And he believed that if he could make her understand how much he needs her, she will stay.
Besides, he was one of the best closers in the galaxy. It was no sweat.

*
A droplet of sweat rolled down his temple as he neared her. The many distant planets and stars looked a lot closer from the special windows of the Balcony. A 180 degree view at any given point was possible.

“Oh, hey, you made it. I didn’t think you’d show up,” she teased.

“Haha, Sorry, Go-Fer needed an update.” He half-glanced at Go-Fer, whose colours shot a disapproving glare.

He then cleared his throat to say something. Everything. But she had turned away to admire the window that was forever bustling with activity. She walked to the end of the room and found the blue, medium-sized sphere not bigger than a baseball with a smile embellishing her lips.

The lithe woman with chestnut skin, a trait reminiscent of the people from old south-Asia (that was now underwater like most of the southern hemisphere) stood there with her back turned towards him, facing the galaxy’s most intelligent planet: Earth.

He noticed tears welling up and a smile lingering long enough for him to understand, as much as it pained his heart, that she missed home. Her home. He felt fatuous and selfish like the ones responsible for the state of the Earth and the shame burned him.

Well, I’d always have Go-Fer he thought. It glowed red in embarrassment.

“You know, this time tomorrow, you could wave back from there.” He said walking towards her and pointing towards the blue sphere.

A streak of confusion filled her and yet she looked as beautiful to him as the first day he laid eyes upon her.

“I’m not kidding,” he laughed, “here,” he handed her the transparent Glass which sprang to life when she touched it. A storm of emotions ran through her as she read, absorbed the news, and then the walls bounced her shriek in a thousand echoes, startling the tourists. Go-Fer steadied itself behind his legs.

“I’m finally going home!”

“I thought I’d give you the good news myself,” he mustered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh and uh… Your eyes are really pretty.” He said before turning away. The woman had tears of joy and though she looked forward to the Earthly sunrises, she’d miss the spectacles of space and Karkin-OS.