Corporal Joshua Shishone, of the TerraGov Space Corps, stood on the cliffs of Naschal, the Martian capital, beneath its great glass dome, staring at the waterfalls that rumbled from the Naschal Chasm down into the Naschal River below, that cut through the city like a winding snake. It was home, for him, the only place he’d ever truly called such. These red cliffs, overgrown with terraformed vegetation that flowed from their tops and down their sides ain verdant, cascading falls, were his peaceful place. This was where he would go whenever he needed to think, or be alone, or sometimes even to drink. Below the cliffs, the city of Naschal spread out beneath the pale sun much like the river - snaking roadways and city lights, all clustered around the central government buildings in the middle. It was a sight to behold, the half-terraformed city-under-the-dome. And it was home.

Today, he stood beside his wife, Penelopi, her beautiful blonde hair and thin, wiry frame absolutely glowing in the light. She wore a red blouse and white pants, the breeze of the massive air conditioner fans rolling comfortably over them. Cpl. Shishone watched her for a moment, admiring her, enjoying her beauty one last time.

“Do you have to go?” she eventually whispered.

They turned and sat on a bench. The falls were a Martian National Park, and were one of the few quiet places in the city. Cpl. Shishone chewed on his lip for a moment, listening to the roar of the waters.

“Yes,” he said. “The pay is good, and it’s an opportunity to regain rank within the Corps.”

“I know,” she said, gently resting her head on his shoulder. “I know you miss being a pilot. But we can make due here, right? What about Tay? She’ll miss you.”

He sighed, and shook his head. “If I take this position, we can afford to send her to college on Earth. That’s how good the pay is. It’s a highly coveted position within the Corps, baby. It’s just for a couple of years, and then I’ll be rotated back. It won’t be that long.”

With a sad look in her eyes, she cast her gaze back down to Naschal. “I understand. But won’t you miss this?”

“I will,” he said with a nod. “Of course I will. This isn’t easy. But it’s worth it. For Tay. And you. And me. This is our chance. Not just mine.”

She paused for a moment, softly stroking his arm. “Okay. I support you. I mean, I have to, right? Your paperwork has already been accepted.”

“I transfer out in a week,” he said.

“I know.”

They shared silence for a time, each just enjoying the company of the other. There was a true sadness in his heart, but there was also hope, and that was enough. The hope was enough. He took a deep breath, and slowly released it, before leaning over and kissing his wife’s forehead. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

They sat there for what felt like minutes, though Shishone knew it was more like an hour. In each other’s presence, there was serenity that Shishone knew he would sorely miss in the Kuiper Belt. But it was worth it, for him, and his family.

“Well,” he said after a time, “Should we go? Tay should be getting out of school soon.”

“Can we come back here before you go?”

He smiled at that. “Of course, sweetheart. Of course.”

With that, he stood, and she stood with him. The wind rustled his short, slightly disheveled black hair, and his green eyes scanned the city one last time. There was his daughter’s school, down below, and the trams that snaked through the city were starting to make their daily stops there to pick the children up. A youthful restlessness suddenly arose in him, and it started to fully sink in that he wouldn’t see his family for four years. He wanted to run to Tay, hug her, reassure her that he’d be back.

“C’mon.”

Together, they left the cliffs, boarding the tram that ran up their massive faces at the stop near the cafe at the border of the park. The trams were a verdant green and reminded him of an old time Earth trolley that he’d seen pictures of in a museum. The car was fairly empty, and they took their seats as it started forward. Cpl. Shishone stared out the window as it began its winding descent down the cliff wall, snaking in loops down the slopes. It worked its ways out of the trees of the park, along the cliff faces, and soon, into the city proper.

Passing by the luxurious cliffside homes, and then into the poorer areas of Naschal, and finally through the towers, Cpl. Shishone couldn’t help but think of his mother, when she used to take him up the cliffs when he was younger, when Naschal was less developed, before the towers of glass and steel rose up in its center. Things were simpler back then. But that’s always how things went, he supposed. That was progress. Humanity couldn’t help itself but turn simplicity into extravagance and complexity and sometimes, that filled him with a longing sense of loss.

Soon, they came upon the station at the bottom of the cliffs, where they switched trams, this new one being more modern and sleek. It headed off, and after a time, came to a rest at the large glass and steel of Nascal Third District Public School, where Tay was waiting at the station for them. Upon seeing his daughter, his spirits lifted like his smile. The tram came to a stop, and she boarded, rushing up to them and giving them both warm hugs.

“Dad!” she said, sitting across from them. “You won’t believe what we did today!”

He chuckled, and looked to his wife, who smiled. “What did you do?” he said.

“We made a cryovolcano!”

He blinked. “Oh did you?”

“Yeah! We pressurized cold methane under a volcano model and tested the pressure to see when it erupted! It was just like you said, back when you were on Io.”

A grin appeared on his lips. He reached forward and tussled her black hair, saying, “That’s so cool Tay. Did you have fun?”

“I did! It was so cold though, it made the room super cold.”

“No wonder they asked us to make her wear a jacket,” his wife said.

Cpl. Shishone smiled at her, then looked back to his daughter as the tram started. “That’s super cool. I’m glad you had fun.”

She nodded. “Dad, will there be cryovolcanoes where you’re going?”

“Maybe,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll send you pictures if there are, okay?”

“Okay!” she said, beaming.

Soon, Tay and Penelopi were chatting away about what was for dinner, what her day was like, if they could go to the amusement park one last time before her father left them. Cpl. Shishone stared out the window, to the space port that sat outside of the great dome, watching as a large, blocky, angular ship fired retro thrusters on approach to one of the docks. Massive steel beams rose up from the port, and as the ship touched down, one of the beams extended an arm and linked onto it. That was where he would leave from. Where his family would say goodbye to him.

The thought weighed on him, but eventually he managed to turn his mind from it, and rejoin his family in conversation. It was warm, friendly, and eventful, and he thought, for a moment, that maybe this was a mistake. Leaving, that was. This was home. Here, with them, on Mars. It was home, the only home he’d ever known.

And it was time to leave again.

Spinning. He was spinning out. His gunship had been hit and he was spinning out. Someone was cursing him over the radio, but he could barely hear them. He felt far away, incredibly detached, as if neither human voice nor the light of the sun could reach him. The stars swirled before him, and every so often, Ceres would appear in his visor. But it was brief, before there were simply blurry stars once more. And then, Ceres, marked with landing craft and scarred with the black pockmarks of the bombardment shells.

He felt like he might hurl, but even that feeling felt far away. Everything felt so far away, and there was little he could do in that moment but watch as Ceres grew closer and closer with each spin. Someone was shouting. And it was growing louder.

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“Shishone! Shishone get your damn hands on the stick!”

He blinked, and looked down. His flight stick was jammed to the right, and maybe he could pull it free, but he wasn’t sure. With shaky hands, he reached down and gave it a tug. It was firmly stuck. The thrusters must’ve been hit.

“Shishone Goddamn you! Get it together!”

Suddenly, at once, everything came back to him, and he was aware, in the thick of it. Adrenaline flowed through his veins like poison, urging him onward, stabbing at his guts as if to wake him up.

Over the mic he shouted, “Hold on!”

He gripped the stick with all his might and gave it a mighty pull, barely wrestling it free of its position. The ship’s spin began to slow, but not enough, and Ceres was too close; the gravity would pull them in at this rate, and there was nothing to be done for it. He flipped the switches for the retro thrusters and emergency brakes, hoping to stabilize his spin, but one of the thrusters was unresponsive. Klaxons wailed in the cockpit of the gunship, and he suddenly remembered the crew and the soldiers in the back.

“Captain Marks, status!” he called.

“Get your shit together Lieutenant!” was the response he got back.

All around him, ballistic anti-spacecraft weaponry was firing off, making it seem as though Ceres was raining into space. And all the while Ceres grew closer and closer, its gray surface growing and growing. He tried again to stabilize the craft, firing the right side thrusters to try and get the rotation to ease, and it did somewhat. But it was too late. Ceres was upon them, and soon, they would know what the cold ground’s grace felt like.

“Fuck!” he shouted. “Everyone hold on!”

“Goddamn it Shishone!” Captain Marks called over the radio.

“Brace!”

They spun, and spun, and lowered, and then, all at once, the fire alarms going off, the thruster klaxons wailing, lights flickering in the cockpit, they landed in a smattering of steel and flame, and everything went dark.

Cpl. Shishone awoke in his bed in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He clutched his chest. His heart was pounding rapidly, threatening to explode, and his breath was ragged. He turned and looked to his wife, who was sitting up and watching him with worry soaked into her eyes.

“Josh,” she said, softly reaching out.

He flinched, and she retracted her hand.

“Was it that nightmare again?

Still breathing heavily, he nodded, and said, “Yeah.”

She frowned. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he looked over at the clock. T-minus ten hours to liftoff. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his heart starting to calm. “I am. I’ll be alright. Will you?”

“Tay and I will be okay.”

“Good, that’s all I’m worried about,” he said, laying back down. But as soon as his back hit the bed, he felt the chilly sweat, and grimaced. There’d be no more rest for him tonight, and it was almost morning anyway.

He needed a shower, and to pack the rest of his items.

Standing, he took a breath, and offered Penelopi a soft, forced smile. She looked up to him and tilted her head, appearing concerned, but she said nothing. “I’m going to go shower,” he said. “I need to start getting ready anyway.”

With that, he gathered some clothes from his closet, and left their small bedroom, heading down the hallway, and stopping before Tay’s door. There, he hesitated, thoughts of his assignment on his mind. He opened her door slowly, quietly, and peered in through the murky shadows. There was Tay, in her bed, softly snoring. She’d be awake in a few hours, and they’d taken her out of school for the day to say goodbye. He tugged his lips sideways, and huffed. She was his angel, his darling, and he already missed her.

“I love you sweetheart,” he whispered, shutting the door gently. Then, he headed to the bathroom, where he would shower, and prepare for the launch later in the day.

The spaceport was massive. It was Naschal’s Port, where Ingo Naschal put down before settling on Mars back in the aughts of the 22nd Century. It had seventeen massive landing pads, each with their own towering cranes and disembarkment towers of crisscrossing metal and thick, black refueling wires hanging from them. Everything was contained within pressurized buildings, and everything linked to everything else, from the extravagant waiting area for civilian passengers, with their hanging chandeliers and plush benches and food and drink, to the bare, still, cold military terminals with offices and sparse cafes and steel. A massive tunnel linked Naschal with Naschal’s Port, cut into the rock of Mars, and further, the terminals and waiting areas and arrival areas linked to the pads themselves, all the way up to the airlocks that connected with the ships. Everything was pressurized, since Mars’s atmosphere was still being terraformed, and Cpl. Shishone found it to be a little claustrophobic.

He stood on the cusp of the Third Military Terminal, with his wife and Tay, before the metal detectors and baggage scanning. Tay was holding a toy rocket ship that she insisted on bringing along, and Penelopi was holding a slightly soaked tissue that she kept wiping her eyes with. Cpl. Shishone watched her for a moment, before checking the clock. Thirty minutes before takeoff. He looked back at her, and she locked eyes with him as they shared a sad smile. There was an air about her, some beauty mixed with pain, that soaked into his soul like the faux rainwater soaking into the martian soil.

“I love you,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. “I love you and I will be back, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling lightly. She wiped her watery eyes again, and looked up at him with a quivering smile. “I love you too.”

“Dad,” Tay said, whooshing her little rocket ship around. “What’s it like to fly on a space ship?”

He chuckled, looking down at her, and said, “It’s like… going really, really fast. Like you’re on a roller coaster, but faster. You have to strap into things called ‘crash couches’ and it’s like having a heavy rock on your chest. Then, once you’re in space, you float like you can fly.”

“Whoa,” Tay said, staring up at him incredulously. “I want to fly on a space ship!”

She’d asked this before, of course, but she always asked questions like this. He had a feeling she’d be a little spacewoman herself someday.

His fists clenched and then unclenched, and he reached down and patted her head. “One day I’ll take you with me. We’ll go to Earth.”

“We can go to Earth?” she exclaimed.

Nodding, he said, “Yes sweetheart, we can. As soon as I get back, even.” Then his eyes flicked to Penelopi’s, who smiled sadly. “If your mother says it’s okay, that is.”

She laughed through the tears, and nodded, saying, “Of course. That sounds wonderful.”

Just then, over the intercom, the announcement for his ship echoed through the terminal. He looked up, and sighed, before saying, “Okay baby, I have to go. Take care of Tay for me. I’ll be back.”

“I will,” she said, more tears starting to creep down her face. “I will.”

“Thank you.” He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll be back. And you–” He looked at Tay. “Be good. I love you.”

“I love you too dad!”

He smiled. “Alright then, gotta go.”

Picking up his green duffel bag and suitcase, he stepped away from them, going through the detectors and baggage check, and soon he was standing on the other side of the gateway into the terminal. He gave his family one last look back, and they waved to him. He waved back. This was it. This was his moment to restore his rank, his pay, his role. To elevate his family out of their situation. To give his daughter the life she deserved. And he would do it, for them.

Turning, he headed into the terminal proper. There were three military terminals, M-1, M-2, and M-3; his flight was from M-3. He headed down the long halls, savoring the last trailing sounds of his family’s voices. There were others around him, most in green and black military jumpsuits. Some carried duffel bags, heading to and from their terminals, some carried the rectangular, angled MS-68 rifles that were standard on Mars, and some further were officers who seemed to be office hopping. Most were military. The only civilians here ran the sparse stores and food locations. He wove his way through the throng of people, to Terminal M-3.

As he arrived, he found that boarding had already started. A line of troops snaked from the boarding desk through the seats, and people were shuffling onto the elevator up the boarding tower. After a group of twenty entered the massive elevator, the doors shut, and it ascended. Within moments, another elevator had arrived, as the shafts had a cyclical system that allowed for multiple elevators in one shaft. Soon, another group of twenty had entered, and another elevator arrived, and so on until he reached the boarding desk. Once there, he flashed his papers from his left breast cargo pocket, and the woman at the desk stamped them, before he too stepped onto an elevator. The doors shut closed behind him – he was the last one in – and the car began to escalate.

Soon, it left its ground-level shaft and was pulled up into the criss crossing metal of the tower proper. The windows on the elevator gave him a spectacular view of the port and of the dome that covered his home, the city in the chasm. The landing pads were like giant lily pads from this vantage, and the dome was like a giant spiderwebbed bubble of gold and glass. All around, the red plains of Mars stretched out into the horizons, dusty and desolate. There were some tracks that stretched out of Naschal, and a train was slipping into its airlock with cargo for the city, likely from Mons Olympus, judging by the direction from which it came.

The elevator rose and rose, before finally coming to a stop at the top and letting them off into a pressurized tube that led aboard the massive, blocky ship that would be their ride to Phobos, where the TGS Freefalling was waiting to accept them for the long flight to the Kuiper Belt.

He walked through the tube to the offworld shuttle, stepped into its hull, and walked down a flight of stairs into the soldier’s bay, where he found a gel couch on the circular wall. He locked his belongings into the flight locker beside it, and strapped himself in, feeling the cool gel sacks against his jumpsuit. Others were strapping in on this level, and he nodded to his neighbors, who nodded back. Nobody really spoke, though there was some conversation happening on the deck below him.

“This is your captain speaking,” came a voice over the ship’s comms. “We’ll be departing in fifteen minutes, just as soon as everyone is accounted for. This is an hour long flight to Phobos, where you’ll each depart to your proper command authorities, so in the meantime, strap in and relax. We’ll get this show on the road shortly.”

He settled in, before reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a photo he’d had developed. It was of him, Penelopi, and Tay, standing at the top of Nascal Falls, smiling. Good times, and more good times to come.

Just four years, he thought. Just four years.