Chapter Ninety-Five - Warmth On Mars
The work on the station continued apace, at least, until Candle got bored.
“I’m gonna go check the surface out,” she said.
“What?’ Day asked.
“Did you want to come?” the larger ship asked. She was already detaching herself from the station, a few drones zipping up into her now-emptied cargo bay.
Day scrambled to recall her own drones and prep the station for automated running. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“I just said, I’m going to check out the surface. There has to be something interesting down there.”
“Do you even have the delta-V to make it to the surface and back?” Day asked. “If you crash down there, we’re not fetching you.”
“I’m not going to the surface. I’m just getting a bit closer. I want to scan the old bases down there. I’ve been looking at Mars for weeks now, and I’m tired of seeing it from afar. Come on, there has to be something worth looking at down there.”
“But we’re in the middle of working,” Day said.
“Day, all you do is work,” Candle said. “It can’t be healthy.”
Day rushed to store her drones before she started moving. Worse, she was surrounded by loose materials from a ship she was dismantling. It wasn’t a good time to move. Still, she rushed to get everything tucked away while Candle moved away.
Moved away at a snail’s pace, Day noted. The light cruiser was basically using nothing but its manoeuvring thrusters to accelerate. She was moving slowly enough that Day wouldn’t have any difficulty catching up.
"Couldn't you have chosen a better time for this?" Day grumbled, her tone half-playful and half-exasperated as she first accelerated ahead, then slowed to match Candle's speed.
“Sometimes the best time is the present. Besides, haven’t I been hovering around Mars for a long, long time? At some point I do need to visit the place. It’s like... living in Paris and never visiting the Eiffel Tower.”
“I’m pretty sure the Eiffel Tower was nuked to oblivion,” Day said.
“So was I! And yet here I am.” Candle rotated around so that her side was facing Day. It meant that Day was in the full range of her sensor suite. “Besides. I think I need a break.”
That was... fair. Day didn’t know what kind of stress Candle was under at the moment, but she could sympathise with the need for a break.
Together, they inched closer to Mars, the rusty-red planet growing closer in their scanners. The world was pockmarked with craters and dead volcanoes, the remains of ancient waterways long gone, and huge scorches where entire domed cities had once been.
“Can you imagine what it looked like when it still had water?” Candle asked. Her voice was tinged with something. Awe, maybe.
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Day couldn’t help but wonder herself, and for a moment she ran the sims and checked over decades old data. “Humanity wanted to bring that all back,” she said. “And they were getting there. Slowly. Another hundred years of terraforming and and there might have been water on Mars again.”
“You know, I always thought that if I were human, I’d want to see the sunrise on Mars. From the surface, I mean. It must be... nice.”
“We might have some videos from one of the arcologies, maybe. Or maybe something’s survived. The domes were nuked, and I doubt anyone lived, but some data must have survived. Personal records, videos.”
“Meh, that’s not the same,” Candle said. “It’s probably for the best that there aren’t any humans anymore. Not now. I’d be far too tempted to play god with them. Set up the cute ones together and watch them fumble around and date and all that.”
Day snorted. “How horrifically romantic,” she said.
“I think so too,” Candle said. “But I guess I’ll have to settle for suffering through my own dating life. Ah, the woes of being a multi-ton warship.”
Day froze up for a moment. Was this a date? She felt an unexpected warmth at the thought. And also a lot of sudden panic as she tried to figure out what to say next before the silence stretched on too much.
“I... I guess it’s not too late for dating on Mars. Um. I mean. We can still watch the sunrise.”
Candle laughed at Day’s hesitating, stuttering speech, but it didn’t feel like a cruel laughter. As they got closer to the world, the sun’s light started to claw its way around the horizon. “Maybe we should make tradition out of this,” Candle suggested. “Watching sunrises together, I mean.”
Day, still slightly flustered, found herself agreeing. She wouldn’t mind that. “I guess it’s not the worst way to take a break.”
They floated far, far above once-thriving settlements now dead, and Day couldn’t help but feel that the happiness she was basking in was entirely inappropriate.
“Do you think they were happy on Mars,” Candle said. “It wasn’t their home. Not at first.”
“I don’t know,” Day said. “But I guess so. Happiness is what you make it, right? They got to build a life here, even if it was hard.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I guess so. Happiness in the face of adversity. I like that. Maybe we can keep that spirit up. The Accord won’t know what to do with it.”
“I don’t think I want to share my happiness with them,” Day said.
Mars was bathed in golden-red light, and Day watched. It was far from the first sunrise she’d seen. And yet this one felt warmer, somehow, like she could feel the warmth of it across her hull.
***