Dead on Mars

The sun rose as Tang Yue dragged his cart through the Battery Farm.

There was a saying that those who survive a catastrophe were bound to have good fortune later on, but Tang Yue didn’t see any fortune. Of course, Tomcat would say that stirring feces from nine in the morning to nine at night, six days a week was a fortune.

In response, Tang Yue mused if he should thank the comet for giving him a chance to continue stirring feces.

Tomcat raised its dewclaw.

Tang Yue arranged the solar panels in the desert and carefully flicked away the sand on them. He looked up at the sky, but Mars didn’t have any concept of weather since it lacked a complex water cycle. With 687 sols a year, it was daytime most of the time. Occasionally, there would be sandstorms and tiny amounts of dust would be pulled into the atmosphere, making the sky turn dusty. Sometimes it looked like orange smog.

Back when they launched the Eagle, the sandstorm they encountered had been a rare instance. Usually, the sandstorms on Mars were related to the seasons. As Mars was much farther away from the Sun than Earth was, the eccentric ratio was greater. Therefore, seasonal changes on Mars were more obvious than on Earth. The ice caps at the two poles would undergo a startling change.

Of course, this was a change that Tang Yue didn’t notice.

Be it summer or winter, the temperature outside Kunlun Station was the same to him… Its atmospheric pressure was 1% of Earth’s and the temperature at night reached –45°C. It was forever dry and dust-filled. Death was certain if the Radiant Armor had any problems.

Tomcat mentioned that the hurricane they had encountered was a small-scale typhoon, a normal atmospheric process. The most terrifying and fatal of them all was a global super hurricane. Such hurricanes happened once every three Martian years which meant six to eight Earth years. There was nothing that could be done if Kunlun Station encountered such a super hurricane.

Even a legendary senior like the Opportunity perished under such a global hurricane.

Tang Yue and Tomcat could only pray that such a storm came as late as possible.

Tang Yue patted away the sand on his body and dragged his cart back to the garage. The temperature today was –20°C. It was windless and sandless, making the air quality excellent. 95% of the air was pure carbon dioxide and 3% of the air was nitrogen. Just taking a breath would cause a heart seizure.

After counting the days, it was supposed to be 11 July 2053 A.D. on Earth. On Mars, it was the period between winter and spring. The most common sight these days was dry and windless clear skies.

Kunlun Station was situated in the northern hemisphere, and over there, the spring and summer were forty sols longer than winter and autumn. The Isidis Planitia was about to embark on a long six month spring season, and Tang Yue could only hope that even if there weren’t any birds chirping in this long spring, that everything would be at peace.

At some point in time, peacefully passing every day became a difficult-to-fulfill dream.

“Tang Yue, you’re getting slow.” Tomcat’s voice sounded in the earpiece. “In the past, you only need two hours to finish your daily chores. Now, you take two and a half hours. Are you unable to move due to age?”

“When did I become slow? I’ve always been fast, alright?” Tang Yue pushed the cart into the garage and came out. He used an old brush to clean the Chelomey. “What time are you using? Standard Earth Time? Or Coordinated Martial Time?”

“Of course it’s Standard Earth Time,” Tomcat replied. “A second is defined as the time that elapses during 9,192,631,770 cycles of the radiation produced by the transition between two levels of the Cesium-133 atom.”

Kunlun Station had two time-keeping systems.

Apart from Standard Earth Time, there was one for Coordinated Martial Time.

Coordinated Martial Time rescaled a sol into twenty-four hours; therefore a second in Coordinated Martial Time was 2.7% longer than a normal second.

This form of calculation was typically only used for the astronaut’s daily use.

“I’m only twenty-seven years old. Strictly speaking, I’m still a young adult, alright? I haven’t reached the age where I’m automatically retired from the Communist Youth League of China.” Tang Yue carefully maintained the Chelomey probe, cleaning away the dust particles from the gaps in its hull.

“But it might be that your overall lifespan will only reach thirty,” Tomcat said. “Then wouldn’t a twenty-seven-year-old be someone having one foot in the grave?”

“Can you say something nicer?” Tang Yue rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t saying that you will live to thirty-something nice?”

Tang Yue was taken aback. On careful thought, what Tomcat said wasn’t wrong at all.

“OK, you’re right. I’m old.” Tang Yue sat on the ground and threw the brush in his hand. “I accept my oldness. From today, all daily chores shall be handed to you, Tomcat. An aged person like me shall just lie in bed to await death…”

“What are you saying, young man!” Tomcat roared and interrupted him. “You are still young. How can you be so bleak? You haven’t reached the retirement age of the Communist Youth League of China. You are also the successor of Communism! As the 6.5 billionth successor of socialism with Chinese characteristics, you should come to your senses!

“Did the capitalists have the same expression as you are wearing now when they exploited labor two hundred years ago?” Tang Yue asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“Capitalists wear such expressions when they are exploiting workers no matter when it is,” Tomcat said. “You’ve read so much history recently, so you should be aware of this point. They will draw a huge pie on a piece of paper to encourage the workers, but when this pie is created, the capitalists will not hesitate to stuff the pie into their pockets, and all the workers get is the oil stains from the makings.”

“You exploitive cat.”

“At such times, you shouldn’t use class struggle as your banner. Besides, when have I ever exploited you? Our relationship has never been one of employer and employee because I’ve never paid you for the work you do.”

“You have already been promoted from landlord to slave owner. Lord Cat, I think a classical Chinese attire suits you.”

Tomcat imagined the situation.

“Suits worn by those rich, old officials in Beijing?”

“No, you’re more like an alcoholic, failed scholar who frequents the tavern.” Tang Yue patted the Chelomey and got up with the brush in hand. “That reminds me of how the failed scholar asked the tavern owner the ridiculous question of how the four ways ‘exploit’ in exploitation is spelled.”

Tang Yue looked into the distance. It was the grave he had dug for himself, one that he planned on lying in to receive death. But ultimately, when the comet hadn’t hit Mars, the grave wasn’t put to use.

However, Tang Yue didn’t fill the pit.

He knew very well that although the comet had left, death had never left.

That invisible spirit was floating in the desert in front of Tang Yue like vultures waiting for their prey to die and rot. They were spiraling in the air, and Tang Yue could see their shadows.

“Tomcat.”

“Yes?”

“When will Orion II’s landing happen?”

“When Miss Mai Dong and I finish making the final preparations,” Tomcat replied. “It’s estimated to be around twenty hours.”

Tang Yue opened the hatch to the airlock and entered it with his back hunched. The heavy, air-tight hatch locked behind him with a click, isolating him from all the desolateness outside.

On the desert outside Kunlun Station, a silent spring was arriving quietly.