Cosmograd Martian Base, Echus Chasma, Lunae Planum, Mars
The reflective green smudge in the distance was easy to pick out along the front of the never-ending red cliffs of Echus where the People’s Federation had decided to build their first settlement on the Fourth Planet. When they finally saw it that afternoon, Maho started whooping over their suit intercom. It was hard to believe that they were coming to an end of a five-thousand kilometer trek… one that could have ended in disaster. Yet their rover, the
Endurance, continued rolling on, only barely worse for the wear.
While Nathalie cheered with her crewmates in that moment and did her best to soften her tone as she began final preparations for hailing Federation coms, Commander York felt like tearing her suit off then and there. She had to get out of the suit and the rover as fast as possible. The long journey had its highs and it had its many lows… she felt weak from the long hours of stressful navigation the journey had demanded. The near-disaster of the descent into the chasma, down a rough notch along the cliffs that Ralph had called “Nailbiter Gorge”, had almost broken her inside. Her crew had used all of their emergency explosives and all of their spare tire parts… which meant if just a couple more complications had happened earlier on, when they were far from potential help, she very well could have been covered in red dust by now. Yes, the
Endurance had only barely earned its name.
The others had picked up on the change in her internal weather. There was no hiding such psychological turmoil in such close quarters. She occasionally caught them gesturing to each other, lips moving behind the glass of their helmets, using a private intercom. The Commander had received more pats on her shoulders… and more hesitance and questions in response to her orders. She knew that it wouldn’t take the mere presence of Federation cosmonauts to shift her treatment and experience on Mars now. She had lost the trust of her crew, which had brought a new and deadening feeling to her burgeoning claustrophobia. It was only a matter of time before Houston started asking questions.
The green modular units of Cosmograd in the distance appeared larger and more distinct with every passing minute now. She hit the record button on the rover’s communications panel and then tapped in the initiation command for a handshake. A burst of static hit her suit’s audio system before she went live with the radio transmission.
She started to speak in English.
“Cosmograd Base, this is Commander York of the APA’s Odyssey Three Mission, reporting that we have an Estimated Time of Arrival of 1630 hours. I’d like to thank you and your administration for offering our crew refuge here on Mars as an olive branch towards all humankind. You will find that my team and I… we hope that will never be forgotten.”
Ralph smiled at her as she absorbed the impact of uttering those words, which were very likely to bounce their way up to the heavens and all over the Solar System. He pressed his visor in thought as he repeated the message in Russian. Then she followed him afterward with German, doing her best not to stutter despite earlier practice. Maho then started again Chinese, when he was cut off by an interfering transmission over the same band. It was Andrei, of course, in their native English.
“Three languages is enough for one day, comrades! You could make it here before dinner cools if you’d drive more than talk!
Potoraplivat’sya!”
Another voice came in, female, “Major Smitnov, there’s never a good reason for recklessness. Besides, our electric oven is fully capable of reheating our meal. Please see to it.” It had to be Colonel Ah Lam Yang, with whom they’d spoken before as soon as they’d come in range for clear radio transmissions, sometime before they departed the craterlands of Noachis Terra.
“Colonel Yang, did I hear you right? Did you say you made dinner for us?” Maho’s voice always seemed on the verge of exuberance.
“That’s right, Lieutenant.” Colonel Yang’s voice even in English was crisp and decisive. “It’s taken days of preparation for us to fully show our goodwill towards your arrival and for lasting peace for all humanity.”
“For which we are very grateful.” Nathalie piped in. “Do you have any final instructions for us, Colonel?”
“Nothing that you didn’t already receive over email, Commander. See you at 1630 hours.”
Their final approach had filled with a note of anti-climax and informality, but somehow it felt right. Maho kept cracking jokes over their private band about his sweaty balls and empty stomach, which forced her to elbow him hard in an equally sophomoric gesture. Even though she laughed back at him, her nervousness kept bubbling up. Don’t ruin an important moment for the history books!
Ralph just grinned and talked shop as he guided the
Endurance closer and closer, his hands steady on the wheel as if another thousand kilometers wouldn’t have bothered him.
“I have to say I’m rather excited about this news of a meal waiting for us in Cosmograd.” He said eventually, “I’m getting tired of paste, protein bars and crackers.”
“If that’s what they serve us, you better keep smiling.” Maho jeered, “Remember, those cameras in their base are always on.”
Oh, they all knew it. The Federation was serious about broadcasting the successes of their space program. Their cosmonauts racked up millions of viewers every week and their operations were the subject of worldwide interest, much more so than the Alliance. Media industry deregulation, privacy laws and other policy precedents had precluded the development of interplanetary television shows from their side of the planet. Maybe that was yet another additional stressor for which Commander York would have to find a way to tolerate.
Soon, Cosmograd Martian Base was right in front of them. Well-worn tracks in the Martian dirt, stacks of unused construction materials, green paint and rounded corners defined the small human settlement, the only one on the Red Planet except for their very own Jamestown. There were several modules, the farthest from them all clearly a nuclear generator, venting fumes, cables and tubes extending in all directions like a steel octopus on the Martian flood plain. There was a bulbous cylinder with circular windows, marked with Cyrillic and Mandarin symbols with green paint. And, even more importantly, there were the five green-suited figures standing in front of a color-matching residential module, all holding long pipes in their hands.
“They’ve blocked the docking interface...” Ralph muttered.
“Huh.” Nathalie grunted, then activated her broadcast, “Colonel Yang, have you told your crew to-”
A burst of static and then a drum beat came over the radio. What was that? Music? The
Endurance slowed to a stop in front of the five green cosmonauts. Jingles and jangles came over the comms… a traditional African song? What was this? Nathalie looked at Ralph in shock, begging for answers, then at Maho. They just gaped with her and looked back at the strangers, carrying their pipes.
Then, suddenly, the figures below their cockpit in the rover started moving. They turned and started dancing in a line, first to the left, then snaking around to the right. They were going right along with the beat… well, slightly off, but more coordinated than Nathalie expected could be accomplished! They bobbed their heads and shook their pipes like canes. And then the singing came over into their helmets, just one baritone-voiced man singing in a bubbling language entirely unknown to them. It successfully enchanted them and their jaws slackened.
The Federation cosmonauts stopped in a line to face their Alliance counterparts abruptly and one of the figures, gestured to them and was belted out a song with his arm stretched into the air. The Odyssey crew was mystified and continued to watch as the rover hummed. Then the group separated into smaller groups and continued to dance and the song came to an end and the drum beat picked up. The five of them shook and shuffled, some better at flaying out their arms and bobbing their heads than others. They called out together in a kind of exuberant wail and marched in place in different directions to the flow of the music.
The music slowed as the green suited figures danced on without explanation. The rhythm carried the three travelers in the cockpit of the
Endurance away in their minds. They could see smiles on their counterparts' faces, within their helmets bearing the Federation star within a rose. They were having fun… here so far away from Earth in a world that could kill them all for the slightest misstep. How naïve! How ridiculous! How playful!
But... but now… Nathalie felt tears falling from her eyes and a tension leave her chest. The dance and the slow African song continued as the red dust blew upon them all for another several minutes before the figures stopped with the music and almost collapsed to the ground. She sobbed in her helmet as the three of them clapped their hands noiselessly in their insectoid rover and shouted their approval over the intercom. The tears dried and she felt awake.
Soon, laughing came over the intercoms. Their counterparts had been laughing since the dance ended apparently, the audio recorded more whimpering than anything. One of them had fallen and couldn't get up without help. Nathalie chuckled along with Ralph at that and gave him a look. Then she shot up in her seat as she heard the hatch door behind her clang shut. Maho had left the cockpit. She unbelted herself and swiveled out of the cockpit, switched to a private band as she followed him out.
“Lieutenant!” She called as the hatch door opened. No response. Vibrations came from above her. He was out. She thought about her situation again, then closed the hatch door and returned to her seat beside Ralph, he looked up at her with speechless concern. They turned to see Maho leaping toward the five figures across the red dirt. The greens turned towards him as he approached. He grasped the first outreached hand he could find. Lieutenant Komachi vigorously shook their hands then and they clapped him on the back.
The audio came then with a delay, a rattle of voices, all in English, all spoken with distinct accents, so many and so fast it was hard to keep up even in for her in her native tongue.
“An excellent show!”
“I’m glad you liked it!”
“Commander York I hope you don’t mind the performance-”
“-been so long-”
“Nice shaking!”
“-but it was Major Mutungi’s suggestion to show you his country's traditional welcome dance and we all agreed to practice for it.”
“A bare majority vote of approval!”
“It was my pleasure to share my people's custom with you. We actually reworked the choreography... a number of my fans from home helped me decide to teach only moves that Major Andrei could keep up with! My fans know how to take care of us.”
“I’m happy to be their main concern in our dance performances, Joseph.”
“Haha… but the food! We expected you earlier!”
“Okay, okay, you can park your land cruiser now, Captain Gershon! Welcome to our home, fellow travelers!”
They shuffled off towards their residential trailer in a line and Ralph uncharacteristically couldn’t stop chuckling as he did, indeed, park their trusted rover. When Nathalie finally sealed the hatch and jumped down onto the new turf, she looked behind at the machine for a minute. She placed her hand on it and looked up and over its extensive aluminum-titanium mesh alloy carapace, its prominent wheels. They had made it to safety in this cruel world. Thank God.
She turned to enter the residential trailer with Ralph after doing a quick diagnostics check after mating the rover with the station’s computer network. The green habitation module was one of two at Cosmograd, she had been briefed. It wasn’t much, but it was sturdy and the lights from inside spoke of warmth and activity.
Inside the front room compartment Colonel Yang waited for them with Maho at her side. After salutes and a few more words of formality, they pressurized the room and Nathalie was finally able to take her helmet off. The sweet fully-oxygenated air of the room made her lungs seem to blossom as she gasped it in. She couldn't have gone another day with that thing on! The Colonel's face was grinning when her helmet finally came off. It didn't look like that was an expression that came naturally to her as she soon revealed herself very rough in her demeanor. She had thick eyebrows and never blinked.
"We've all been waiting, so let's not waste more time!" She said straight away as she turned towards the next hatch and promptly opened it with a touch of a couple switches and a swipe of a keycard she suddenly had in her hand.
"Commander, Lieutenant, Captain, please enter our humble outpost and accept our hospitality. Dinner is ready. It's not the Chinese New Year just yet, but we're going to feast now like it is."
Humble outpost it was not. As they passed through the hatch door they saw the habitat was in comparison to their own at Jamestown Base not only slightly wider and twice as long from the outside… the inside was much more spacious than they had imagined. And why not? It had been designed and manufactured by the most experienced technical facilities that the People's Federation could employ. There were more digital screens, more green or red cushions, tables, even a landscape painting with a river, a forest and a church.
Nathalie was looking up at the lights above as her crewmembers went out to shake hands with the other cosmonauts that now surrounded them, dressed in their various lounge fatigues. The illumination strips were noticeably light-blue and… well, bright!
She felt a hand clasp her on the shoulder, "Yes, we can run the lights at Sun-like levels for several hours at a time. Vitamin D supplements might be cheaper, but this feels better than taking another pill, don't you think?" Colonel Yang sidled up to her.
"It's amazing what you've done to the place! It's so much... homier than even when we've seen it on television." She said with a smile. She hoped she wouldn't have to scrounge up any ad hoc sun block. She must be as pale as a sheet from her months away from a sun lamp.
The Colonel turned to sit on a nearby chair to take off her boots and the rest of her suit. Another cosmonaut approached Nathalie, Cosmograd's second-in-command Yorman Barroso, a good-looking man who now sported a casual jacket with yellow trim. He was carrying a bundle of clothes, neatly folded.
"It's so good to see you again, Nathalie! Welcome!" He said to her, brimming with energy. That's right, they had met at that international conference in the Comoros... in 1987? When was that?
"It's been a while, Yorman!" Commander York beamed. "What a pleasure it will be to work with you, finally after all these years!"
"Let me know if you have any questions, Commander York." He said in stilted English. "We have these for you in your size if you'd prefer. We also wanted to offer you the use of our one shower before the rest of us take our turns. Hotter mist for you and less scum on the sides of the unit, you know? You must be wanting one?"
She had heard about this device. It would be amazing to try out instead of the usual regimen with the sponge and self-cleaning grog. She couldn't believe in the luxury this Cosmograd crew was already flaunting to her face. It almost was too much of her, in her emotional state, which was much like an ocean castaway finally reaching land.
This was not what she had planned and in that moment of incredulity she looked up into the corner of the residential's entrance where she had detected the glint of a camera. A shower, huh? Was this a kind gesture or a power play?
"The last thing I want to do is embarrass my husband by showering for all of Earth and Mars to see, Lieutenant Colonel." She decided to say with all the nonchalance she could muster.
He was quiet for a moment and then responded smiling, "I assure you, there have been no cameras installed in the cleansing area and those of us with our own recorders wouldn't dream of invading your privacy, Commander."
Nathalie laughed and then accepted, casting a look at Colonel Yang who looked on knowingly.
"I'm grateful for this hospitality, but this is all very extravagant, don't you think, Colonel?"
"Why yes it is, Commander." The Chinese woman affirmed with a stoic nod, "It's extravagant because it's an exceptional moment in history. We have every reason to celebrate... and find relaxation and comfort for an evening in new company. Please, call me Ah Lam."
Nathalie would. She'd also use their misting unit which was delightful and warm, if brief. The steam was a godsend for her pores. She dried her hair off with a quick-drying towel and put on the spare clothes, the same uniform that the Majors used at the base, but warm and just her size. By the time she stepped out and turned to enter the dining area, she had become accustomed to the roar of noise that came from several humans conversing all at once and thrummed through the walls. The air had filled with a sumptuous scent of cooked vegetables and it was warm as a summer day. She felt marvelous; totally rejuvenated.
They were sitting on the ground on cushions with rusty red jars in front of them, as well as assorted cups and mugs, some misshapen. She knew their names and faces from briefings, but had never met them in person. It was strange to know strangers so intimately. They sat not in a circle but asymmetrically around the room. Andrei from Belarus leaned against a ledge by the sink. Denise, who was Greek, was tucked into a corner holding her knees, her short curly hair an unabashed puff ball on her head.
"This seat's for you, Commander." Ralph said as he noticed her, pointing at a cushion and a jar. She knelt down beside him, feeling more like a dorm mate than ever coming in to talk to friends after a difficult day of classes.
"Did you like our mister?" Denise asked from off to the side, her eyes beaming.
Nathalie nodded. "It's a… very optimal use of water! I liked it."
Denise smiled and gestured to the clay jar in front of her. Nathalie noticed a pair of implements by it… a crude fork and spoon. She picked the fork up and observed it closely.
The woman chuckled and said something in Greek, then back to English, "Yes, we made those here! We have more than just a kiln! But it's what's inside the pot that's even better."
Nathalie was in awe as she set down the fork and opened the jar's lid. She felt like a kid as she saw a kind of ratatouille inside and the scent wafted into her face with a burst of heat: cooked spinach, tomatoes, potatoes, onions and who knows what else all, all in layers and slathered with a sauce she couldn't identify. It smelled as thought it had been sent to her from heaven's kitchen.
A voice bellowed over the rest of the conversations, “No time for prayers before a feast like this, huh,
Americansky?”
She looked up at Andrei who leered at her then chuckled as Nathalie clasped the lid back down on the jar, worried about breaking some social norm. Ah Lam looked at her, suddenly finishing a conversation with Joseph Mubundi and waved it off.
“That's Commander to you, Andrei. We can all pray on our own time in our own way. Let’s finally have a taste of your recipe after all our work. But first! For our health!” She grasped a metallic bottle and started pouring a dark liquid from it into metal cups that she started handing out.
“Salud!” Yelled Major Mubundi as he downed the drink. Nathalie thought it was liquor until she brought a cup given to her towards her own lips. It was cold and bitter, but not alcoholic at all.
“Cold barley tea...” Denise said to her side, “The Colonel is always making it.”
“Thank you! It’s delicious!”
Where did they get the barley? She’d prefer water herself, but didn’t want to ask as the informal meal proceeded. Lids came off of jars without a word of tradition and they dug out the cooked vegetables. After months of processed food, the clay-baked ratatouille was so rich in flavor it brought tears to her eyes.
The eight of them lounged there in that small dining area, knees and elbows against one another, pressing up against cushions, and plunged into small talk about their respective biographies. Maho spoke Mandarin to Ah Lam for a long conversation only they seemed to be following. Nathalie learned all about the Mubundi family and couldn’t believe how many of his cousins names he could drop. Denise left to take a shower, then was followed by Ralph. The humidity increased all around them.
“So there’s no itinerary? Are we going to take a tour of your greenhouse?” Nathalie asked Yorman after an hour had gone by.
“Greenhouse? All of Cosmograd is a 'green house'!" The Venezuelan joked and she rolled her eyes.
"Oh there will be time for inspections and so much more, Commander... plenty of time.” He said.
“It’s amazing how much has been built here. I just can't wait to get acquainted with it all and to learn from how the LAF does things."
“Yes… it’s been a lot of work, as you must know.”
Nathalie’s face softened as she peered up at a camera in the corner pointed straight at her. “Is this what people want to watch, then, Lieutenant Colonel? They want to see us get to know each other and enjoy a hot meal?”
The Venezuelan stared at her then laughed from his belly, drawing the attention of the others for a moment. “I suppose so! And I do too!”
She squirmed at his reaction, uncomfortable under the gaze of the camera. It was grinding to her to act like someone of her rank all of a sudden. Commander York was still in charge of a mission and this… it felt too familial and too open at the same time. They hadn’t trained her on this.
“Well, it was a very delicious hot meal, I have to say.” She smiled, recovering the energy of the conversation as the others continued with previous conversations of questions and answers in various languages, mainly English, but also frequent Russian and German.
“Just you wait until I finish my brine evaporator.” Yorman went on. “We barely have any salt reserves left and you don’t want to use what you can find outside. I have a design that utilizes the vacuum itself that can mass produce as much table salt as Martians can eat.”
“Quiet please!” Colonel Yang suddenly barked as she rose and started deploying a screen out of a hidden section of the dining room. “Let’s turn on the broadcast from home. Our new friends haven’t been able to receive any news video transmissions, as you remember.”
Andrei booed, then grimaced and walked off and away into the next compartment with his arms folded. Nathalie felt his footsteps in the metal floor as he marched off, for whatever reason. She was certainly curious what had been happening back home. They had mostly just heard about that terrible blizzard… she hoped her family back in New Jersey was doing alright.
The screen buzzed on under Ah Lam’s technical finesse and in full audio and color they started receiving a news broadcast from the Federation in the Russian language. Nathalie’s Russian was rusty, but she followed along. She hoped to polish it up over the months ahead, especially her German.
Then they went silent in the small, musty room as images of dead men, women and children filled the screen. Why did that happen? They turned to Yorman. Did he know anything about this? No answers came, just questions as they listened on to the report. A collective weight fell upon them as they realized what was happening back on Earth, although their stomachs were full and they were warm on a lifeless planet of freezing temperatures. Were they explorers or were they refugees?
The wind howled outside the base as the sun began to set on Mars. Darkness fell quickly. Yet the lights from the windows still glimmered for kilometers and kilometers across the empty chasma.
The First Declaration from the Lacandon Jungle: Today We Say ‘Enough is Enough!’ (Ya Basta!)
TO THE PEOPLE OF MEXICO:
MEXICAN BROTHERS AND SISTERS:
We are a product of 500 years of struggle: first against slavery, then during the War of Independence against Spain led by insurgents, then to avoid being absorbed by North American imperialism, then to promulgate our constitution and expel the French empire from our soil, and later the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz denied us the just application of the Reform laws and the people rebelled and leaders like Villa and Zapata emerged, poor men just like us.
We have been denied the most elemental preparation so that they can use us as cannon fodder and pillage the wealth of our country. They don’t care that we have nothing, absolutely nothing, not even a roof over our heads: no land, no work, no health care, no food nor education. Nor are we able to freely and democratically elect our political representatives, nor is there independence from foreigners, nor is there peace nor justice for ourselves and our children.
But today, we say ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
We are the inheritors of the true builders of our nation. The dispossessed, we are millions and we thereby call upon our brothers and sisters to join this struggle as the only path, so that we will not die of hunger due to the insatiable ambition of a dictatorship of seventy years led by a clique of traitors that represent the most conservative and sell-out groups. They are the same ones that opposed Hidalgo and Morelos, the same ones that betrayed Vicente Guerrero, the same ones that sold half our country to the foreign invader, the same ones that imported a European prince to rule our country, the same ones that formed the “scientific” Porfirsta dictatorship, the same ones that opposed the Petroleum Expropriation, the same ones that massacred the railroad workers in 1958 and the students in 1968, the same ones the today take everything from us, absolutely everything.
To prevent the continuation of the above and as our last hope, after having tried to utilize all legal means based on our Constitution, we go to our Constitution, to apply Article 39 which says:
“
National Sovereignty essentially and originally resides in the people. All political power emanates from the people and its purpose is to help the people. The people have, at all times, the inalienable right to alter or modify their form of government.”
Therefore, according to our constitution, we declare the following to the Mexican federal army, the pillar of the Mexican dictatorship that we suffer from, monopolized by a one-party system and led by Carlos Salinas de Gortari, the maximum and illegitimate federal executive that today holds power in the capital.
According to this Declaration of War, we ask that other powers of the nation advocate to restore the legitimacy and the stability of the nation by overthrowing the dictator. We ask for free elections monitored by international observers.
We also ask that international organizations and the International Red Cross watch over and regulate our battles, so that our efforts are carried out while still protecting our civilian population. We declare now and always that we are subject to the Geneva Accord, forming the EZLN as our fighting arm of our liberation struggle.
We have the Mexican people on our side, we have the beloved tri-colored flag highly respected by our insurgent fighters. We use black and red in our uniform as our symbol of our working people on strike.
Our flag carries the following letters, “EZLN” for the Zapatista National Liberation Army, and we always carry our flag into combat.
We refuse any effort to disgrace our just cause by accusing us of being drug traffickers, drug guerrillas, thieves, or other names that might by used by our enemies. Our struggle follows the constitution which is held high by its call for justice and equality.
Therefore, according to this declaration of war, we give our military forces, the EZLN, the following orders:
First: Advance to the capital Mexico City, overcoming the Mexican federal army, protecting in our advance the civilian population and immediately permitting the people in the liberated area the right to freely and democratically elect their own administrative authorities.
Second: Respect the lives of our prisoners and turn over all wounded to the International Red Cross.
Third: Initiate summary judgments against all soldiers of the Mexican federal army and the political police that have received training or have been paid by foreigners, accused of being traitors to our country, and against all those that have repressed and treated badly the civil population and robbed or stolen from or attempted crimes against the good of the people.
Fourth: Form new troops with all those Mexicans that show their interest in joining our struggle, including those that, being enemy soldiers, turn themselves in without having fought against us, and promise to take orders from the General Command of the Zapatista National Liberation Army.
Fifth: We ask for the unconditional surrender of the enemy’s headquarters before we begin any combat to avoid any loss of lives.
Sixth: Suspend the robbery of our natural resources in the areas controlled by the EZLN.
To the People of Mexico: We men and women, full and free, are conscious that the war that we have declared is our last resort, but is also a just one. The dictators are applying an undeclared genocidal war against our people and have been for many years. Therefore we ask for your participation, your decision to support this plan that struggles for work, land, housing, food, health care, education, independence, freedom, democracy, justice and peace. We declare that we will not stop fighting until the basic demands of our people have been met by forming a government of our country that is free and democratic.
JOIN THE INSURGENT FORCES OF THE ZAPATISTA NATIONAL LIBERATION ARMY.
The General Command of the EZLN
