“But Paul can look outside anytime he wants. Or anyone who goes into the control room.”

“Oh, Carmen, don’t be naive. It’s not like looking out a window. Paul sees an electronic image that’s supposed to match what’s out there. They could fix it so he wouldn’t see the ship until the time was right.”

“And they’d do all that just to check our loyalty? Who is this ‘they’ anyhow?”

“Earth!” He was suddenly even more intense. “They never have trusted the four of us from Mars.”

“They chose us for this,” Meryl said.

“And sent along three spies!” He glared at Meryl, then at me. “Could it be more plain?”

I stared right back. “Something’s pretty plain.”

“Three spies. One seduces me and tries to play with my head, my memories of childhood. One attacks me physically, unprovoked. The third has worked himself into a position of authority, from which he can poison your minds against me. Is any of that not true?”

“Listen to me.” I took his hand in both of mine. “Elza tries to seduce everybody; that’s her nature. Dustin hit you because you fucked his wife, then broke her nose. Namir is a career diplomat and a natural leader, and I don’t think he’s ever tried to influence my opinion of you.”

“Considering that you also fucked his wife,” Meryl said, “and broke her nose, I’d say he’s been a model of objectivity.”

He jerked his hand away. “You’ve both bought it. Bought the whole thing. Or you’re in on it, too.” He kicked away from the table so hard he hit his head on the ceiling with a thump. He drifted back to the fridge and kicked off from it, to drift away over the crops.

After a bit, Meryl picked up his lunch. “Want some of this?”

“Too much hot sauce.”

She nodded but reached into it with her chopsticks. “Guess you can get used to anything.”

Chapter 7 - ABOUT TIME

7

ABOUT TIME

Humans are always talking about heaven, even if they claim not to believe such a place exists. I have the feeling that it’s not just metaphor or semantic shorthand, but rather an internal state that they are forever grasping for but never attain.

I have come close to heaven, for a Martian, these past few days—free of the ship’s constant crushing acceleration. This morning it began again, and while I wait for the pool to fill up with water, I will distract myself with writing these notes.

Let go of the stylus and it falls to the floor. Depressing. But I will enjoy the water.

The next time we are weightless will be when we come to the planet of the Others. I wish there were some way we could just be there now. What good is science if it can’t do a simple thing like that?