CH. 08 «The Martian Motorist»

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The topic of Martian motorists can be summed up as such: Survival of the Fastest.

On Mars, the most dangerous place you could ever find yourself is on an Amazonian Freeway. In order to not become trampled underfoot or simply left in the dust, you have to keep up. At those speeds, though, the line between choosing to behave properly or keeping yourself in one piece is often a blurred one. It may look like Martians are living up to their image when you witness this haphazard style of driving; probably putting on a show for the off-worlders. Maybe they themselves don’t feel fulfilled if they’re not always playing a part? What I can tell you from my observations is as often times as bravado fuels them, survival is what’s on their mind—the ones that do survive, anyway.

Otherwise; blatant disregard for posted speed limits, merciless merges and a tendency to drift while texting on straight-a-ways are marks of the Martian Motorist. Usually with a disposable coffee cup or comm in their hands..often both. They are a sort of dangerous breed…who do you think invented the Martian Rolling Stop? All side effects of their colossal commuting system, I’ve gathered. The old freeways and highways of Earth could never compare to its immaculate construction and the efficient, almost fluid like way vehicles are directed along her veins; nor the ludicrous amount of traffic congesting it. The lanes themselves almost stretch double the Terrestrial standard width, overpasses and lamp posts tower over head and a multitude assistive light-board displays (each larger than a classroom) are readable a mile away. Still, it will sadly never be able to accommodate the amount of motorists that will use it.

In the lesser portion of a given day, when it’s not clogged to the gills with reactors stuck in idle, the superway system is a hollow concrete skeleton. The luminescent lines that appear to glow at night seem to go on for eternity, like a trail of neon tubes, echoing the now limitless feeling the surrounding ribcage of posts and bridges, so far away; it awakens something inside of you. Ergo you become acclimated to fast speeds and with good cause; as small of a planet this is, everything is still spaced so far apart to add some sort of illusion of vastness. There’s just a whole lot of desert in between these cities though, not much greatness to be had at all.

Exaggerated human nature made the act of blinking became obsolete. Who knows if it’s gone as far as thinking signaling is showing a sign of weakness, not trusting natural abilities to judge time, depth and the goodwill of others? It seems like if you blink people won’t want to let you in, just on the principle of keeping the lane theirs. You have to take the lane if you want it that bad, you’re more likely of getting it this way than if you put the light on.

My best tip for survival is to assume every other vehicle is piloted by ruthless person, an oblivious person, or some combination thereof. To be safe is to be faster than everybody else on the road, whether they’re mean or just dumb. Speed will help you through most situations you could encounter. That and a good set of breaks… you never know when you’re going to come to a skidding halt because of some other inattentive driver. I guess if all else fails, being more massive is going to save you. Crashes are inevitable, its just a matter of being bigger and tougher than the other guy.

So I guess if you’re looking to get a crawler and brave the freeways, just make sure your vehicle accelerates quick, is utterly massive, and stops well… Of course, if you’re rich enough none of this is even a worry. But not all of us can afford fancy flying aircars and to take the skyways.
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PREV: CH. 07 «Never Terraformed»

PREV: CH. 07 «Never Terraformed»

NEXT: CH. 09 «I Hate Martian Girls»

NEXT: CH. 09 «I Hate Martian Girls»

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