I head back to my snowbike and strap the bag to the back.
I gaze down the long road snaking through Cydonia, winding its way peacefully toward the Palace and beyond. Living units line both sides of the path. Down here, the climate is milder thanks to geothermal wells that channel magma heat to the surface. These wells warm the atmosphere and spare us from deadly temperatures.
They power the greenhouses of Cydonia Mensae, Cydonia Colles, and Cydonia Labyrintus—as well as the more distant ones in Acidalia Pranitia and Arabia Terra.
They also provide hot water to private homes and to the public centers for sports, education, and healthcare. Bottom line: no geothermal wells, no colony.
Turning my back on the center, I ride toward the heights.
I’ve got a birthday meal to prepare!
I’ve just finished the pear charlotte.
I wash and dry my hands, then head into the greenhouse corridor wrapped around my home.
Here, I grow lettuce, parsley, lentils, sprouted seeds, tomatoes, turnips, radishes, spinach, zucchini… anything that grows fast and takes up little space.
Everyone is responsible for cultivating their own basics. Since space is tight, we make choices—and rely on the market for everything else, like oil, pasta, and flour.
I’ve considered adding a raspberry patch—easy to grow and perfect for a garden like mine. But I’m short on space, and I prioritize beans and lentils for their nutrition, plus kiwaï, a high-vitamin-C fruit well-suited for my modest greenhouse.
Not that we’re deprived. For treats, we have pine cone jam. Picked while still small, these little green cones grow abundantly in our forests and are easy to candy in agave-sweetened water. It satisfies most cravings.
Still, I love the bright taste of raspberries. And my brother’s crazy about blueberries. Maybe I should give up a little garden space for that tiny luxury?
When Meghan and Kiran show up for lunch, everything’s ready! The smell of vegetable stir-fried noodles fills the room, and dessert is chilling in the fridge.
“Hey, big brother!” I say, throwing my arms around my gentle giant. “Hmm, did you grow a little taller overnight?” I add, raising an eyebrow.
“Pfft! Hey, shrimp,” he answers.
If there’s one thing to know about Kiran, it’s that helovesteasing the people he cares about. He picked up that expression—“shrimp”—from some old movie, and even though we have no such creatures here, he uses it constantly on me.
And because he’s my beloved brother, I let him.
“Hi Meghan!” I say, turning to my best friend.
Where Kiran and I have brown skin and dark hair from our mixed Mauritian heritage, Meghan is tall, blonde, and strikingly blue-eyed—a pure Brit through and through.
“Hey Neela. How are you?”
The three of us always sync our work and rest weeks so we can enjoy cultural or sport activities together.
Which is why we haven’t seen each other all week.
“Same old. One hangnail, one bronchitis, one dislocated shoulder, one hand cut. Nothing thrilling. What about you guys?”
My friend blushes suddenly—hard to miss on her fair skin. Odd. She glances nervously at Kiran before answering.
“Not much happening either. I worked at the education unit. Not many students came in for tutoring this week. It’s been pretty calm.”
“It’s the start of fall. Temps drop fast. People don’t go out much at first. Give them a few days to adjust—then everything’ll go back to normal. Honestly, fewer kids needing help is a good thing. Means the homeschooling modules are clear and effective.”
Kids in Cydonia are educated at home, supervised by one of the parents. They do online classes in the morning, then spendtheir afternoons socializing.
Sports, music, art—all held in community units near the center.
“Humm, Meg and I are gonna have to switch housing units soon,” Kiran says casually as we sit down.
