1 Chapter 1 (Mars 2154: Ambassador Yi Min’s visit to Station 9) The Martian Bloom A space ship, its hull the color and shape of a fine-cut crystal, appeared in the Martian sky followed by five other enormous ships solid and white, covered with logos, insignia and windows. Two dozen Mars children looked up through a clear glass dome and cheered. It was the Final Republic’s ambassador! The children danced and sang because the pilot was the most famous woman in the colonies. The ships had no engines, no stabilizing burners or propulsion of any visible kind. They moved along hidden currents of Urja energy, like a raft on a dark-energy river. The surface of the vehicles interacted with the Urja in occasional pops and fizzles, like intermittent white fireworks. The spaceships slowed their descent and found the top of an opaque dome, two miles from the children’s dome. It opened, and the ships lowered inside. It was a great day for the Martian colony. Colony Nine was being visited by a legend known for destroying Iugan Soul of Fire, and for inspiring the political system that created a utopia so prosperous and peaceful there would never be another war on Earth or between the fifty colonies in the solar system. ## The hull of the ambassador’s spacecraft was foggy-clear, like a frosted bathroom window. It hovered three feet above a flat, oval-shaped landing pad that had no wires, dials, or 2 lights. The bottom of the ship was lined with polished silver, reflecting the Martian sand like a mirror. The ship’s interior was more like a living room than an interplanetary spacecraft. The flooring was made from wood, as were the ergonomic chairs and plush couch. A dozen plants were cradled in wall pockets, and art pieces hung on the crystalline walls. A woman with straight, jet-black hair sat at the control panel, a large holographic array of dials and buttons. She was a Korean American, but hadn’t even set foot on Earth in over thirty years. She traveled most of her days, visiting friends from all over the colonies. She had so many contacts, the travel time in her space ship became her only personal time. Quiet reflection allowed her to enjoy her work and the often-overbearing popularity. She stood, took a deep breath and straightened her white gown, running her fingers over the gold flowers and leaves embroidered around the bodice and neckline. She needed to make a quick speech and shake some hands before meeting the children, which was her favorite duty. Her eyes lingered on a photograph pinned to the side of the crystal wall. Jack Morrison, her best friend growing up, was hugging her in front of his childhood home. She was playfully punching him in the gut. Yi Min and Jack were fourteen in the photo, forever fourteen. He was a foot taller that she was, lanky and with hair so naturally red, he turned heads everywhere he went. Jack would be the only one she would allow into her quiet time because hanging with him was as natural as breathing. If only he were alive now. Yi Min touched the faded print for good luck, like she always does. Ambassador Yi Min negotiated the interior of the ship to the exterior door similarly made of crystal. Seams widened along angular edges, and the door opened outward, followed by a bamboo ramp unrolling to the Martian sand. 3 She stepped from the craft, her dress flowing behind her, billowing because of a small spell designed to add mystique to her movements. A dozen eyes from the landing crew locked on her. The light reflected off her silky black hair as though imbued by a thousand diamonds. Her age hardly showed in her smooth, pale skin. The ambassador glided down the ramp like she had no feet at all, until her spaceship door closed too early. It snagged her dress, lurching her to a sudden halt. “Ugh,” she huffed. The workers remained still, their eyes wide under the lip of their helmets, not sure what was happening. The ambassador’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment and a touch of anger. She turned and pulled on the dress, but the door held it tight. The door was, after all, made to seal off interstellar space during flight. “Let go of my dress,” Yi Min hissed toward the door. “You’re supposed to be an intelligent ship, the best of its class.” She waved her hand over the sensor on the middle of the door, but it didn’t open. The ship answered in a cool, warm voice. “I’m sorry. All ship functions are now controlled by landing protocol.” A growl came from deep in Yi Min’s chest. She whispered a spell into her hand until a tiny blue light formed in her palm. It grew round and perfect like an ornament, translucent and energetic like a tiny sun. Her fingers flittered, and the orb spat toward the door. It hit the crystalline composite and exploded. Large chunks fell from space ship hull and the door released her dress. Yi Min stumbled back, her graceful entrance obliterated by one not-so-smart smart door. 4 Behind the diamond ship were the others, filling the enormous dome. Their doors hissed open and others filed out, handling work orders, transfers, deliveries and other trade details. Mrs. Hilton, the colony administrator, stood at the bottom of Ambassador Yi Min’s landing pad, wearing a colorful, pattern-filled dress and an embroidered white top. A holographic screen hovered at chest level, displaying charts and graphs. She swiped her hand across the hologram, shutting off the display. “Are you all right, Ambassador?” Mrs. Hilton said, without using her voice, instead transmitting the question through thoughts along with the emotion [sincere happiness]. The ambassador heard the greeting and felt the emotion, and her skin tingled. “You can still transmit your emotions, but can we use our tongues? I prefer to hear voices,” she said in her mind, transmitting a [pleasant, respectful] emotion. “Yes, thank you my ambassador. I, too, enjoy hearing my own voice,” Mrs. Hilton replied, nodding her head. “The kids today don’t, but they’ve never known a world where our thoughts weren’t transferable.” “That’s the problem with today’s youth,” Yi Min said, half joking. She brushed a loose hair from her face and descended the ramp, straight and composed. Yi Min nodded to Mrs. Hilton and her assistants. Two assistants, wearing drab gray suits, flanked Mrs. Hilton. Each communicating with their own tablets that projected in front of them. They transmitted emotions to Yi Min, [nervousness and admiration]. “We welcome you to our city, Ambassador Yi Min,” Mrs. Hilton said with her voice. She bowed her head low. 5 Two men, wearing orange jumpsuits, black helmets, and visors with electronic displays and headphones, guided five large, overstuffed suitcases from the belly of the ship. They floated them to the ambassador’s side. Yi Min opened the top compartment of the largest bag and pulled out a small plant, its roots bundled in burlap fabric. Mrs. Hilton smiled and accepted the gift, grateful for receiving the most respectful gift an off-world colonist can receive. “I’m glad to be here. This is my most favorite duty as the founder of the Final Republic,” Yi Min said as she strolled onto the sands of Mars. She took off her sandals and strode through the soft sand, relaxing as the cold, red silt pushed between her toes. She picked up her pace. “We must get this started. I’ve fifteen more colonies to meet with.” Behind her were four cabinet assistants, the Deputy of Communication and the Vice Chair of Colony Trade. They chatted to themselves, coordinating and comparing their own hologram screens. “This way, please, Ambassador.” Yi Min glanced at one of the men in orange. “Take my bags to my quarters and fix my spaceship door.” “Yes, ma’am.” “And don’t call me ma’am. I’m only one hundred and five,” the ambassador said with a fixed stare, but transmitted a [jovial] emotion. She was old, but her body and mind were kept young by stem cell treatments. Sometimes, it was her thoughts that stalled. She’d fought wars, fell in love and became very powerful but what was there to look forward to? It was why she loved watching children grow up. They change so rapidly. Adults seem to find their routines and stick, like barnacles to sea rocks. She would remind herself that her future was in her hands. She needed goals, plans and other adventures to look forward to. 6 One of Mrs. Hilton’s assistants leaned close to the ambassador. “Is it true? There is an alien ship approaching our solar system?” Mrs. Hilton pushed the assistant away from Yi Min. “You will learn your place. Go back to my office, now.” “It’s quite all right,” Yi Min answered. She could look forward to this bit of news. How amazing will it be to meet another intelligent species. “It is true. In five years’ time, an enormous spaceship will arrive near Jupiter. It originated from a planet called Illissis in the Tau Ceti system. It will be a historic day for sure. I can hardly wait the five years; I know you all must feel the same.” Yi Min placed a hand on Mrs. Hilton’s shoulder. “Let’s talk of your colonists and your economy.” The Deputy of Communication and the Vice Chair of Colony Trade stepped up to join the conversation. The Deputy was a friendly man, fifty years old with a beard that hung to his chest, the Vice Chair a young woman with red hair and wearing a hemp tunic covered in geometric stitching. Mrs. Hilton flattened her hand and swiped a vertical line in front of her, and her holographic tablet flicked on. She opened a brightly colored chart with a push of a translucent button. “Happiness is as high as it has ever been. Production too. We have a strong economy with one hundred percent employment. Everyone has healthcare and with oppas conjures taking care of people, there are no lines and no shortages at all. It’s so wonderful. “This morning we wrapped up our plans for the next Parade of Engineers, which celebrates our creative problem solvers and our enjinia conjures. It will be so wonderful; the children will love it. Next month we’ll host our Day of Astronomy. People really appreciate the added holidays that celebrate achievements. And the conjures are so magnificently helpful and 7 selfless,” Mrs. Hilton said. She swiped her screen outward and transferred her data to the other hologram screens so everyone had a copy. “Good. This is what I’m hearing from all over the system,” Yi Min said, glancing at the charts. “Don’t you love conjures? They’re so eager and wonderful beings. How did humanity ever get along without them?” “No, it’s better than good. What you and the other leaders have done is truly amazing. You’ve created a utopia.” “There were so many who said we couldn’t do it.” “They were wrong.” “It is all about voluntary cooperation, not coercion. Everyone has a choice. Remember that,” Yi Min said, her expression as solid as granite. “Oh, and robot and conjure help. We couldn’t have eliminated the turbulent laws of supply and demand without them.” The ambassador, Mrs. Hilton and the surrounding crowd passed from the landing dome, which was barren of plants but clustered with pipes and cables and panels, and into an airlock where machines checked for unwanted bacteria and viruses that would contaminate the fragile Martian ecosystem. When the green lights lit up, the door to the main habitat opened, making an audible swish, releasing in a sweet smell and a cool breeze. The group walked a wide path between huge trees, bushes, and flowers, most of which were fruit- or nut-bearing plants genetically designed to grow in Martian soil. Beyond the plants, inside the Main-Hall, the largest dome on Mars, was a crowd of a thousand colonists and conjures of every type. They were held back by floating red ribbons. Cheers erupted, children squealed, people clapped, some whistled. Conjures were everywhere, just as eager as the humans. Conjures were creatures of different shapes and types but had glowing skin of various 8 colors. Mars had a lot of shakhter conjures–they had muscular torsos, short legs, and arms that extended to their feet. The thick pads on their fingers were fine-tuned to seek out metals deep in the ground. Mars had a lot of metal resources that were easier mined and less environmentally destructive to remove than Earth metals. There were also a lot of fairies. They were the size of a dolls, with translucent wings and ribbon-like tails instead of feet. Fairies were conjures created to be emissaries to the human world, back when conjures could not be seen or heard by people without magic abilities. There were many other types of conjures that lived on Mars. Some helped farm, raise children or take care of the sick. They were devoted, smart and friendly. It was amazing to Yi Min that at one time, they’d been exiled from Earth. Behind the crowd were thousands of vehicles that doubled as homes. It looked like a huge mobile home park, but the vehicles were all custom-built spaceships–everything was custom these days. Some were long and oval, with huge engines mounted to the sides along with small, round windows. Other vehicles looked more like boomerangs, but their bellies were tall and wide with plenty of living space. Most builders preferred solid walls, metallic or a variety of glossy colors, but there were a few crystal ships. One resembled an amethyst gem cut in a shape called the Rose Egg. Another crystal ship was in the shape of the Hope Diamond. Most of the ships were designed to house eight people or fewer. They had staterooms, multiple common areas, storage areas, and cockpits. Every engine compartment was capped with red hoods, and protective sheets covered the cockpit windows. They were, due to the uncertainty of off-world living, ready to fly at a moment’s notice. 9 White fences, metal gates, and red rock, knee-high walls enclosed small areas around front doors. Every yard had dozens of potted plants of every shape and size. Ambassador stepped up a few hover-steps to a podium– bare of any microphone and waited for the crowd to quiet. She transmitted her thoughts to everyone in the crowd. “Thank you all for the warm welcome. [humility] I’ve brought fresh Swiss Chocolate for everyone. The freshest in all of Europe.” There was loud clapping. “You all deserve thanks and appreciation for the work you do. Whether you research, build, farm, pray, paint or sing, you are all a part of the happiness that is overtaking our culture. Our society protects life, liberty and property like no other culture and it is all possible through your hard work and commitment.” The ambassador spoke for a half hour, eager brains picking up every word. When she was finished, the chocolate was distributed. Yi Min and her entourage continued through the Main-Hall. She waved and smiled and accepted [appreciation] from everyone she passed. The crowd dispersed. Some flew off on floating plankboards. Others left on airborne seats or jumped on hoverbikes. Not a wheel could be seen—it was an outdated technology. Ambassador Yi Min strolled down Main Street. Colony Nine was huge. Six skyscrapers towers clustered at the center of the massive, clear dome– gardens overflowed every balcony and on all rooftops. The colony was nestled in the Valles Marineris; a section five miles wide with canyon walls almost a mile high. The walls were far from the domes, but still dwarfed the colony’s skyscrapers. After passing by hundreds of people and conjures drawn to Yi Min like magnets to iron, Yi Min and Mrs. Hilton split off from Yi Min’s group and headed to a different airlock. The two passed through without hesitation and into one of the five school domes. There were lots of plants and trees too, but not a single building or ship. Play equipment, tables, and storage 10 containers were set in strategic learning zones, and the floor was covered in the same red Martian sand. One child with wild hair, nearest the door, levitated a large blue ball two feet off the ground, containing a laughing classmate. He turned, saw the ambassador, and ran to her, abandoning his friend. Another child played with fire as if it were a bouncy ball, and the play structure was a nest of squealing children climbing over bars and geodesic shapes like bees on a hive. The teacher, Mrs. Lilac, released the floating child and pulled the wild-haired boy aside. “Never leave your friends trapped in bubbles. It’s bad manners!” “Sorry, Mrs. Lilac,” the boy replied. Yi Min glided over the soft Martian sand with practiced ease. She met with children often and loved their high spirits and naturally curious ideas. Would Jack have wanted children? Yi Min would have liked to think so. But since losing him, she focused on her work and the social cohesion of the Final Republic. Yi Min passed a couple of taller girls skipping rope. It warmed her heart to see the classic pastime still alive and well. The girls jumped higher in the lower Martian gravity, so their challenge was to see how many times the rope could pass under their feet in a single leap. It was amusing until she heard the rhyme they sung. Deep Ones are the most brutal ones, They ruled all the seas, They’ll eat you up, Enslave your pup, And throw away the keys.