Stepping Stones

OK, so it's time to go with something a bit different.

As I promised a while ago, I added a page for some other stuff I plan to post here. And it's high time to add something else there, apart from my less-than successful Rimworld AAR attempt. Namely, my sorry attempts at writing.

I sorta feel like the only proper way to sum this up is using the old Spiderman meme, with an appropriately modified captition - but I'll be damned, let's give this a shot, without any further ado.

The story was initially posted on r/shortstories subreddit; you can read the archived entry here.

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Stepping Stones

Seen from orbit, Mars was a sight to behold.

There were fine streaks of blue crossing the day hemisphere - a spiderweb of fine threads enveloping vast deserts of red dust. Some of those streams converged in lakes of rusty water, oases of life among desolate badlands. Patches of dark green vegetation spread along the waterways, passing the torch of life further and further on. Wispy, thin clouds swam across the skies, spectres of grey barely casting shadows on the ground below. Finally, a constellation of stars adorned the narrow stripe of night hemisphere visible from this perspective, each light coming from an individual habitat, an island of humanity on an alien world.

Throughout his life, he saw the Red Planet countless of times. Every time, the spectacle unfolding before his eyes was a bit different. Every time, he felt like he could spend an eternity spotting differences between what he saw, and what he remembered from the previous visit. Where new settlements and forests spawned, which rivers had more tributaries than before, how far did the seasonal bloom reach this summer.

As their ship orbited, moving to the planet's night side, new lights came into view. He spotted a new kind of them there - bright blue flashes, so much unlike anything he had ever seen on Mars before. But he quickly realised what they were - lighting a spark of joy in his heart. What was a strange sight here was more than familiar back on Earth. Lightnings. The planet's thin and sparse atmosphere finally became strong enough to support actual storms, albeit short and weak compared to their terrestrial cousins. He wondered how did they look like from the surface, how did the distinct scent of ozone mix with the rusty, dry smell of Martian air.

He smiled and relaxed, his body sinking into the couch's soft gel cushion. During the last few visits, this became his small ritual. After seeing the real Mars, the one he devoted his life to, he let his frail body rest and freed his overactive mind to roam far and wide, free in the boundless universe of dreams extending beneath his closed eyelids.

And he saw with his mind's eye the future.

Meadows covering the slopes of Olympus Mons, lush with emerald grass and watered by warm rains, the chirping of birds filling the air.

Icy plains of Europa, her face pocked with signs of subglacial habitation and her distinctive lineae criss-crossed by black maglev tracks.

Relentless pioneers braving cytherean hurricanes, their aerostats whipped by waves of hot, sulphuric vapour.

The all-seeing eye of Jupiter, an infinite maelstrom, silently gazing upon specks of metal descending into its gaping maw, their wings and engines insignificant in the face of a planet-sized cyclone.

The future he devoted his life for. The fleeting fantasy that he knew was bound to become reality one day.

* * *

The ‘viewing deck’ onboard the ship barely deserved its pompous name. A cramped compartment featured only a reinforced illuminator and three gel couches, designed to provide as much comfort as the circumstances of space travel allowed. It was nothing compared to even the most basic yacht back on Earth - but there still were people who thought the view on open space was enjoyable enough to endure spartan conditions of interplanetary journey.

She was not surprised that her grandfather was among their ranks. Nor did it surprise her to find him sound asleep. Age was finally taking its toll on the venerable engineer. She approached the dozing man, about to gently shake him back into consciousness - when her attention got attracted outside, to the looming red planet below.

She thought of all the reports she analyzed on their way here, their files stored in her wristpad’s memory. Reports about the ever-carving desert reclaiming what humans tried to cultivate. About forests buried underneath wandering dunes and lakes polluted with metallic dust brought by sandstorms. About microbes evolving in unpredictable patterns, the arms race between them and other organisms incited by ubiquitous space radiation reaching the surface. About the struggle people waged every day on that God-forsaken world.

As they emerged from the nightside, the last flash of lightning reminded her of the recent tragedy under her team's investigation. A sudden sandstorm knocked out all of habitat’s air scrubbers. Three dozen people perished inside, every effort to evacuate them or deliver supplies thwarted by raging elements. People suffocating in their own homes, the very air inside turning lethal with every passing hour.

As the ship floated above the dayside, she watched the sights below. Sickly green spots of vegetation, plants clinging to rusty soil like mold growing on spoilt bread. Maroon pools of water, the liquid barely drinkable even after several cycles of filtration. Vicious storms, empowered by developing atmosphere and made unpredictable by burgeoning weather patterns. It was almost like the dormant planet suddenly awoke the moment the first colonist put his foot on Martian soil - and the angry world did its best to shake off the vermin who disturbed its slumber.

But she knew the planet would be tamed in the end. Just like all other places a human being wanted to claim as his own. It was only a matter of time. And her job - just like the legion of people like her and her grandfather - was to make this hopeless task done. Sooner or later.

As the ship began its gentle spin towards retrograde direction in preparation for the deorbit burn, Mars ducked below the illuminator’s rim, replaced by the infinity of stars. Without the planet’s weak glare, and with the hull shielding her eyes from the sun, she could have seen the boundless ocean spreading before her. For an infinitesimally short while, her thoughts spread far and wide, reaching towards the non-existent shores, towards the Milky Way stretched across the void.

To ocean worlds, their azure seas not tainted by a single rock breaking the surface, the waves sparkling in the rays of unfamiliar sunlight.

To jungles of alien life, thriving, mating, evolving; unimaginable, but as real as the universe around them.

To desolate asteroids and planets, airless and silent, dancing their eternal choreography among the stars.

To the unfathomable possibilities the mankind could claim once it reached those distant depths.

She recomposed herself, shook her head back into reality. It was now and here that was important, not some ghastly fantasies one could delve on fruitlessly for decades.

Her grandfather grumbled angrily as she shook him awake, the world of imagination dispersing in front of his eyes. But one glance at the blood red disc below made him forget whatever the dream had brought.

Theirs was a journey of thousand steps. Her grandfather did not take the first one - for it was made centuries ago. Nor will she be the one to make the last. But the relay needed to go on. No matter the hardships, no matter the cost. One generation was preparing a path for the next to follow.

Each laying a new stepping stone across the timeless blackness.