People of Mars Read Free Page B

puff. On
the opposite wall is an airtight door, with a window. In the end
this room isn’t so different from my laboratory, with the exception
of the obsolete equipment. I can imagine what’s beyond that
door.
    I get closer to it. It
has got a simple handle, but I can’t move it. It must be an
emergency opening mechanism, to be used only when the electricity
is out. Beside the jamb is a touch panel. Some climate data are on
it: temperature, pressure, humidity, oxygen and carbon dioxide
concentration. They would be quite normal values, if I were on
Earth. I try to see through the window, but the glass is matted and
it’s dark on the other side. I brush against the display, which
comes to life.
    ‘Open door’ appears on
it. I tap the icon and then I hear a mechanical click, but the door
remains closed. In the same instant, I see through the glass that
there are lights turning on. Almost without thinking, I pull the
handle and the panel starts sliding into the wall.
    The sight opening up
before my eyes is at the same time unbelievable and stupendous. The
lighting reveals the outlines of a huge plastic bubble, which
encapsulates a luxuriant garden. Inside, precisely separated, are
plants of various sizes, from creepers to proper trees. With my
mouth still wide open, I descend the steps one by one and I put my
feet on the ground. Yes, it is ground, not a floor. I stoop to pick
up a handful of it. It’s dark reddish in colour, but damp, like in
my greenhouse. The air is tepid and pleasant to breath. Overhead I
hear life support fans buzzing, which prevent the accumulation of
the carbon dioxide produced by the plants in the dark hours.
    The ground trembles
again for a moment. A spade slides along the wall and falls. The
puff repeats. This time it is loud. Soon after, I hear that
wonderful noise. Since arriving on Mars, I have dreamt of it so
many times, in the morning before waking up. I’ve opened my eyes
and looked towards the window, hoping to see the glass beaded from
the outside by small raindrops, only to remember where I was. But
I’m not dreaming now.
    Regardless of the
strain to which my body is prey, I rush to the origin of the noise.
I pass the fruit trees and a dense cloud hits me, warm, humid. The
vapour, which condensates as soon as it touches my skin, mixes with
the tears of joy now rolling down on my face, while I let myself
fall to the ground and I remain there, admiring that wonder.
    “Who are you?”
    A child’s voice behind
me makes me flinch. When I turn around, I see a girl; she must be
no more than seven, her face is round, framed by long wavy hair,
her eyes are wide, bright. She’s wearing a white top, so long that
it could be a gown, or a nightdress, judging from her sleepy
expression. In her hands is a wooden object, a toy. She looks at me
with suspicion, but she doesn’t seem fearful.
     

3
     
    “Champagne!” Dennis
shouted as he popped the cork.
    The others welcomed his gesture, beating their PVC
cups on the table. The euphoria reached its maximum. They had
entered Station Alpha a little less than half an hour before and
they already felt at home. After the long months spent in the
confined spaces of the Isis ,
that place, in comparison, seemed like a royal palace. They had
trained for years to live in a perfect replica of that habitat, so
they already knew where to go and what to do. In the coming days
they’d have to settle in, check that all equipment worked as
expected, and start planning their life on Mars. But there was no
hurry now. The sole fact they were there, safe and sound, was a
success. They had arrived where no other human being
could.
    “We’ve gone down in
history!” Robert exclaimed, and gulped the contents of his cup.
After an abstinence that seemed never-ending to him, that little
bit of alcohol went straight to his brain and he started shouting
for joy.
    The rest of the crew
replied in a chorus with a loud, “Yeah!”
    But then he gestured
them to be quiet. He