Is There Life on Mars?

We woke up late and didn’t even hurry to get ready. We felt confident we’d make it in time. 9 o’clock came and sometime after breakfast was served we finally got around to getting on the road. Our party of three set out in the 4-treaded crawler down the last stretch of our journey before our main destination: the Bonnaroo festival.

06-11-2309

It was at this exact same time that my brother pulled his 6-treaded rover into the parking spot a volunteer in an orange vest waved him into. He had waited so long in line, following the slow moving trail of vehicles, all honking and hollering with excitement constantly for the past hour. On and on it went, to the middle of a grassy field, beside hundreds of others, and enough space between to comfortably fit a tent for each group.

His behemoth of a land vehicle lurched one last foot forward and came to a rest in the soft, rain fresh soil. He killed the reactor and removed the KEY, his seat automatically un-adjusting to allow him more room to exit. Setting down the keys and remaining seated, Zech Lane turned slowly to the rest of his group.

“Now bitches, we are here. Let‘s get high!” he said dramatically, and to much applause and cheer from the others.

Within thirty seconds all four members of their party had stepped down out of the navy blue beast and begun stretching and moaning. Minkus Grambel was the first out; he cracked his back, flinched his head to side a few times and pulled out a cigi, tapping on a pack that matched the color of his shorts before lighting it.

Rip Gozo was soon after, slipping out of the passenger’s seat on the same side as Minkus. He stretched his arms together, giving out a strange, high-pitched grunt, and patted himself down for a pack of cigis. Finding none, he turned around to face the other Earthling.

“Hey Minkus, can I bum a Red from you?” he asked in a curious tone.

“You say it like we could possibly have another type of cigi with us,” he retorted quickly, being on the road had made everyone a little edgy.

“I know that’s all we have, I was there when we bought the carton…so, can I have a cig?” he inquired again.

“Oh, right. Of course, man,” Minkus said apologetically as he pulled out the red and white box. “An astronaut killer for you.”

“Thanks,” Rip said as he lit it, and only taking a little puff of it. “I really hope buying all 200 of these will be worth it by the end of this.”

“More like…175. That was one long line, man,” someone interjected. Eli Bayer was a dopey looking Earthling in baggy jeans and a ball cap pulled low, but always had an ability to seem inconspicuous; the man would be downright unnoticeable in a crowd of garishly dressed hippies, let alone the likes of Rip and Minkus. “I’m sure I smoked a pack by myself,” he exaggerated, but lighting another as he joined them, walking around from the other rear hatch.

“Guys, we really need to focus on pitching our tent,” my brother, Zech, reminded everyone as he rounded the front of his rover.

“He’s right, we have to stake our claim before the next car moves in, otherwise we won’t have enough room for everything,” Rip confirmed. He had been to every one of these festivals here since the year I began attending. I may have gone first, long ago in the day, relaying tales and fragments of what my memories revealed to anyone who would listen, but Rip was seasoned in the experience of Bonnaroo, this would be his fourth.

“Yeah..that..and I need to sleep,” Zech explained, glaring at Minkus for not getting behind the helm at any point. He had made the 10 hour trek from Northern Dominia in one long stretch, and sat in line for another two; he desperately needed rest. He held out three fingers, putting them down one at a time, saying “Tent. Blunt. Sleep.”

“But I want to go out and…find something,” Eli moaned to himself, holding his elbows as his eyes searched far off.

Gozo placed a calm hand on his shoulder. “We can go out and find everything we want later,” he assured everyone, though he too looked off into the distance, longing to discover what palpable offerings there were at hand. “Also, it’s gonna be, like, way easier once everyone is done setting up their camps, too,” he said, telling himself more than anyone else.

Zech was removing the nylon sack containing a 4-person tent that belonged to the Grambel family. “Mink, you’re really gonna have to help me with this. Eli, stop rolling that and…well…on second thought, roll the blunt. I think we’ve got this.”

We were still elsewhere in Appalachia about two hours later. After an embarrassing stop into the nearest Uber-Mart to stock up on last minute supplies and food to fill up whatever room we had left, our crawler had reached the end of waiting line for the festival. Ahead of us it seemed to go on infinitely, everyone pulled over to the shoulder to let local traffic through, and quickly behind us, as far back as we could see, it continued on, endless.
“That’s it. I’m gonna get out and start making friends with the neighbors,” Brick said, unfastening his seatbelt.
“By neighbors you mean the rover in front of us in line?” I asked, with a slight bitterness since I could have used a tree myself.
“Yep. Looks like a good enough time,” he said, opening the hatch as he snatched the pack of the cigis out of the console. The door slammed behind him, followed by a moment of silence.
“So, Leona? Read any good books lately?”

«···»

Two hours later, at Zech’s campsite, Rip and Minkus returned from a browse through the shops along the thoroughfare to the event center. They managed to lose Eli somewhere along the way, but felt confident he‘d find his way back. Zech was still passed out in the tent, so the two present members opened up the tailgate of the behemoth, sat down and shared a bowl of fire together.

“This is so astro, dude,” the blonde haired Earthling said, hitting the pipe out in the open, in broad daylight. He passed it back to his pointy eared companion, making no efforts to conceal it.

“Yeah, it’s always really nice here,” he responded flatly, well aware how astro it was from the past three times he attended. He picked a curl of his dark hair out of his face and hit the little pipe they just purchased. He glanced down at the tiny glass piece with a sour face as he exhaled, saying “Man, I should have bought a bigger one…I guess I’ll just give this one to my mom.”

“How many pipes that you didn’t want anymore have you given to your mom?” Minkus asked, facetiously.

“How many has she given to me?” Rip smirked.

“Hey, you guys wanna hang out over here?” a young woman’s voice called from another campsite. “We’re about to play a game of pong.”

Rip and Minkus looked at each other and nodded, turning to say in unison “Void yeah!” They walked over with the unfinished pipe to the adjacent camp.

“Oh look, she’s making friends already,” their neighbor said to his brother. His lovi turned and gave him a face, sticking out her tongue.

“Shut up, now you have a team to play against,” she explained to him. None of them seemed too bright to Rip, Minkus just thought the neighbors were funny. They handed their new friends the smoldering bowl as they joined their game.

At nearly the same time, after two hours of waiting in line, I was finishing up the last pages of my tlog. Well, not the whole thing, just this ‘best of’ collection I carry; the highlights, if you will. Realizing these last pages were all about Lou, I cut it short, making an ending out the middle of a random paragraph.
No one noticed, so I put my computer under the seat and picked my texti out of the console to check how long we’d been in line.
“That’s it, time for a beer.”

«···»

Sometime around 2 in the afternoon Zech awoke, bathed in blue light and sweat, sprawled on top of his sleeping bag. All around him were the sounds of celebration: people laughing and shouting, beers popping and fireworks screeching, and music! Music coming from more directions than he could count. He stretched, yawned, and unzipped the hatch of the cerulean tent they’d assembled some 5 hours ago, crawling out into the real world.

He was instead astounded by how surreal it was; standing up in a pool of vivid colors and sounds. He seemed to be treading in a sea of tents and rovers that spanned as far as he looked in any direction, the horizon spiked with masts and waving flags, alive and brightly adorned. Giant balloons floated off in the distance, tethered to the ground by massive lines, and bottle rockets exploded in the sky nearby.

Rip and Minkus returned from another neighboring camp, waving goodbye to the pierced lesbians they just met. Minkus had a smitten expression on his face his companion was more than eager to wipe off.

“Just cause you’re extra feminine doesn’t mean they’ll find you any bit attractive,” Rip said, popping his bubble.

“Shut up. A man can dream, blast it.” He paused a moment to think, then said to himself “she kinda reminded me of LZ.”

“Well, look who’s finally alive. I mean, huh-what?” Rip quickly deflected, lest anyone notice how snarky he is all the time.

“Mornin’,” he responded, letting the joke roll off his back. “What happened to Eli?” my little brother asked, noticing that his crew was short a member.

“Eli?” asked Minkus in a tone that made it seem like they’d been joking about him for a while.

“Yeah,” Rip continued, glancing at him with a smirk. “We haven’t seen him in hours..

“The man completely disappeared after we smoked and you passed out,” Minkus expressed with concern, but not enough to go out looking for him.

“Oh, but come on. We’d never find him out there; it’s, like, too insane,” Rip interjected with a swish of his hand.

“You’re right, it looks crazy from here,” Zech agreed, peering about for a nano.

“If you really want to see something, check this out,” Minkus said, leading everyone to the side of the resting beast, where he climbed to the roof by stepping up the ladder and the tread cowling to the hood. “The view’s amazing, guys. C’mon up here,” he waved to the others to follow. “And bring that fire, Rip.”

In a minute they were passing around the bowl, sitting 2 meters above everyone else’s heads, atop the blue back of the sleeping behemoth. To every direction there was excitement and joy; festivities raged to the horizon line. They could see the pulsing veins of fellow concertgoers between the other tents and vehicles, flowing like blood to the core of the several hundred acre event. They trailed with their eyes until they were all looking forward in amazement, jaws open.

“Holy gork!”

“My gorking heavens!”

“Slag, we can see the main stage from here,” Zech said, finally starting to wake up a bit.

“Wow guys…this is going to be a good year,” Rip said humbled, thinking it may be his best trip to this etesian Elusian so far.

I leaned over the driver’s side and pounded on the roof. Brick stuck his head out and stared at me irascibly. “Hey-” I started.
“What!?” he snapped quickly.

 

“We shouldn’t have smoked the last of our weed last night.”
“I know, I realized that already,” he said glaring, “or sacrificed the last of it for luck last night, you Callitian.”
“Yeah, my b. Look…we should have slaughtered a goat…or Leona,” I said jokingly.
“Haha,” his mood changed a bit. “No we’re trading the blonde for hallucinogens, remember?”
“What’s that?” she finally interjected, sticking her head out the window too.
“Nothing, go back to reading, hon,” I said, dismissing her. She gave me a puzzled look and shrugged, withdrawing back inside. Brick chuckled again and retreated as well. I remained on the roof, finishing my cigi as I stared at the anxious line, slothing its way along.

«···»

Another hour later and Rip was just getting back to the camp, excited to smoke what he just bought. He was almost frolicking by the time he bounded into the site, greeted by two pairs of confused, blue eyes that only said goodbye to him a minute ago.

“Guess what I got, like, three camps away.”

“What, what?” Minkus asked, hoping it was something better than the brick weed he’d brought from up north.

He removed a baggie that contained a black, lumpy substance, and held it aloft, shouting “Mmmm-opium!” This lit up the eyes of the other crew members, excited to add the first exotic drug to the list for this trip.

“Did somebody say opium?” an optimistic voice called from around the rover. Eli Bayer stepped out of nowhere, as if summoned by the tarry stuff.

“Yes, in fact, I did…Where did you come from, Eli?” Rip asked, feeling most confused of all.

“Huh? Oh, I was just in there,” he said, pointing to open driver’s hatch of the 6-treaded rover everyone was currently seated on the tail of.

“Really?” Minkus turned in amazement, obviously not even knowing he was there. “How long?” Eli simply shrugged and joined them, sitting on a cooler with a jacket on top for a cushion.

“Now if only we had another pipe to smoke out of,” Rip started to mutter, staring at the little blue one. Not even a minute later, a large hippie came roaming passed the camp with a massive black case.

“Blown glass pieces! Finest Quality! Get them while they last!” he shouted in all directions, unashamedly. The crew just looked at each other a moment before, responding.

“Yo, over here!” Rip said, acting as representative for them. The salesman came over and displayed his wares: truly the finest of triple blown glass they had ever seen.

“I made these myself; all the ones you see here in blue don’t change color because I blew them with silver,” the artisan explained. Rip immediately gravitated to one of these metallic blue pieces, particularly such with what seemed like a sidecar-handle. Zech locked eyes with a different, sturdy one shaped similarly to a gavel. Both had strange honeycomb patterns that seemed to sweeten the deal. They noticed the prices though.

“I really won’t have enough for other stuff this weekend if I spend a hundred on this,” Rip complained. Zech was already getting his KEYring out.

“But it’s so gorkin’ astro, man. You have to get it,” Minkus pleaded.

“It really is a pretty one,” Eli even added with his mysteriously present southern drawl.

“I can throw in one of these chillums here for free,” the man offered, still holding the case with one arm as he pointed to a series of short one-hitters in the front. Rip spotted a white one that looked surprisingly like a squid and snatched it up.

“Yea, ok. I’ll take these too then,” the dark curly haired Earthling said, bowing his head as if in defeat.

“And I’ll take this one for 75,” the light curly haired one said, handing over the chargecard immediately.

“I appreciate it, pleasure doing business with ya’ll,” he thanked them and disappeared, but could still be heard, continuing to advertise himself nearby for a few more minutes.

“Wow guys, that was real lucky,” Minkus was still in a bit of shock. Rip and Zech continued eying the new pieces of their arsenals.

“I really wish I had some dank weed to christen this thing properly,” my brother said, seemingly to no one. Some force seemed to beck their call, as another, even brighter dressed hippie came treading through.

“Headeez! I‘ve got Orange and Purple!” he bellowed as he rounded another site and entered theirs.

Everyone yelled “Yo, over here!”

The clock in the HUD of brick’s crawler showed a few past five o’clock. The crawler was silent except for the clicking of a tuni as I searched for a playlist. I sat, running scroll-wise for what seemed forever, eventually forgetting what I was doing and just absent mindedly spinning my thumb around as words streamed by unintelligible.
“Pick something, the click is maddening!” Brick had been getting impatient.
“Huh? Oh, sorry,” I picked the next thing I saw, something we’d listened to on Luna, but it was long enough ago by now.

“Blast it! Why aren’t we at the shows yet, we’re missing out on so much right now.”
“Its ok guys, I’m sure we’ll be there soon, I mean…how much longer could this line be?” Leona asked rhetorically.

«···»

It was about the same time, only a couple of miles away, that Rip, Minkus and Eli left the camp to go on another excursion into the vibrant world that surrounded them. Zech remained behind to mind the camp, an activity that wouldn’t require too much of the already fatigued lad. The others attempted to establish a viable path out of the three rows of other camps that impeded them from reaching the closest lane.

When they’d reached the already well trodden path, they came to join the gaudy, surging mass making its way to the junction between the event center and camping areas; a giant arch constructed in the middle of the farm with the words ‘Bonnaroo’ illuminated for all to see, though it was only slightly visible unless you were quite close by.

Rather than tag along the column of slowly moving bodies to the stages, the gang became distracted by the glittering attractions of the thoroughfare vendors. All sorts of baubles and trinkets dangled from leather thongs on the posts holding up the blue tarps of their shops.

Belly dancers and fire jugglers played in the street to bring attention to the shop, some waving about smoldering bunches of incense that filled the entire avenue with a pungent but memorable aroma. Brightly colored fabrics woven of natural fibers were sold alongside wood carvings and incense burners; screened tee shirts beside music memorabilia and ash trays. Every manner of smoking device available on display for all to lust for sat at their fingertips, and all could be theirs for the right price.

“This is what heaven is like, right,” Minkus asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, not at all,” Rip argued, “the section in Heaven is rather provincial.”

A roar of excitement filed its way back down the line to us, catching my attention and stirring me from my daydreams. It was just after 6 by the clock in the dash, and it looked like we were moving a considerable amount, compared to the last hours of drudgery that amounted to very little.
We came around a wooded corner, and screeched to a sudden halt, met by a thousand red lights loitering in a line in front of us that stretched on until eternity.

 

“Gork!”

«···»

An hour later and it had begun to rain over the 700 acre farming colony and its surrounding areas. Hard rain; heavy and unrelenting to those improperly covered or prepared for such an occurrence. Three individuals, particularly so, began their withdrawal back to the rover. A slow retreat though, none seemed to be too bothered by the downpour.

The one with strong Ionian features (dark curly hair and pointy ears), a brand new tie-dye shirt, and a new blanket wrapped around his shoulders, woven of coarse pink and grey fibers, lead the way. Behind him, the Earthling with blue eyes hid his buzzed blonde hair and slightly pointed ears under a brand new blue hat as he nestled his arms, warm underneath his favorite sweatshirt. Trailing in rear was the dopey looking one with dark hair and blue eyes who wore nothing but a t-shirt, but was too busy staring the new piece he had bought himself, the little blue chillum he imagined he’d get to use plenty.

Surprisingly, the fourth member of their crew was awake when they returned to the camp. The youngest one, skinny and pale with light blue eyes and long, curly blonde hair sat in the wide open cargo bay, noming on a box of cookies, dry and safe from the storm underneath the large hatch, swung open above him. He scooted back to let them in, seating himself on top of someone’s luggage.

Rip simply shook out his blanket and folded it up, the material dry as he was underneath it. Minkus swapped sweatshirts and wrapped the hood of his wet one around the inner handle of the large hatch to let it dry. Eli took off his soaked t-shirt and put a sweater on over his damp back, muttering something to himself as he hung his only shirt over a seat‘s headrest.

“Alright, who wants to get high,” Rip said, removing his tool kit and some freshly purchased supplies. Three eager faces responded by huddling up close to where he sat, the glow from the dash illuminating them all from behind.

It had started to rain. Id been impatiently curled up in the passenger’s seat with my arms folded for nearly the entire time since it began. Two hours later and it was still coming down hard on the metal exterior of the vehicle, pounding arhythmically for what seemed like forever on this already infinite day. There wasn’t even music playing anymore, we only ran the reactor to keep the air circulating while the windows were closed. Brick feared if the line kept going any longer that we’d run out of fuel before reaching our camp. I tried to reassure him we’d never be able to burn the rest, but words like ‘never’ ‘could’ and ‘impossible’ meant very little in these conditions.
“I wonder how the others are enjoying the festival so far,” I grumbled as I looked back out the window into the dark, wet nothingness.

«···»

“This isn’t so weak, you know?” Minkus said, turning to the others. “In fact, I think it’s kinda cosmo. As long as we’re dry, I don’t care if we’re missing any of the bands.”

“I wouldn’t want to be out at any of those shows in this weather, anyway,” Rip decided, pausing a nano to think if any of them would even be worth getting soaked for. “No, it always seems like a good idea, but it only gets more and more miserable as the show goes on.”

“What do you mean, that doesn’t sound like a good idea at all,” Minkus objected, turning to see Rip wasn’t being the slightest bit serious.

“You think Klay and his friends made it in ok?” Eli spoke from where he sat in one of the forward seats.

“I hope so,” Rip answered. “I thought they would have called the nano they got in, but maybe they’re too tired or all their comms are dead,” he reasoned.

“Ok, look. There’s no way that all of their comms are dead. No, I think they just haven’t gotten in through the spherewall yet,” Minkus stated pessimistically.

“Well that sucks because they’re gonna have to cut the line off eventually,” Rip began thinking to himself. “Man, I hope they get in soon.”

“Seriously, I dunno how much longer I can stay awake,” Eli said groggily, obviously already starting to doze off.

“All we can do is wait I guess…” Rip said to the rain still falling outside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another two hours later and the rain had let up. At this point, we’d been in line nearly 12 hours, and half a day of this monotony had worn on us greatly. We were, without a doubt this time, certain we were approaching the final stretch.
The unintelligibly slurred locals, in wifebeaters and trucker’s caps and handlebar mustaches and well-into their second case of piss beer, were out on their lawns gawking at the trail of cars heading into the festival. Some set up tables to try to make a buck off the kids passing by, selling cold beer, ponchos and bug repellent at 300% markup. Others just set up rocking chairs to watch the freaks.
One particularly hairy Earthling, seeming to barely have had a cut or trim since the turn of the millennium, decided to gonzo himself into the spectacle. He made his way down the line of foreign vehicles, meeting and greeting every single one of the ill humored, brightly colored individuals with his beer-free hand. He informed us we were in Asbury, a promising detail according to what I’d remembered seeing on the map. Then he was on his stumbling, stuttering way to the next crawler down the line, the odorous oaf. Heavens bless him.

We were finally at the portal, one of the last vehicles before the cutoff. Suddenly, after hours of seeing nothing past the other vehicles packing us in on all sides, we could look back and see nothing but an empty road. We look forward and we’re the next to enter. Trading our tickets for digital wristbands and map slates. They were out of the digital event programs, which could have been convenient, but had plenty of extra trashbags to give us.
After a relatively short procession, we were led to our campsite and immediately started to set up our shelter, stomping out a square of grass large enough to lay down a tarp and then stretched out nylon construction. The tent went up easily enough, and we were just getting inside for the first time to assess how much space we‘d have when the deluge resumed. Rapid raindrops began splatting against the exterior of our watertight plastic enclosure.
Ahh hax, its not watertight! Hold on, I think we need to sacrifice a couple garbage bags or my new poncho real quick. BRB!

We climbed back into the tent, dripping wet and exhausted, but feeling accomplished after everything we had to do to get here…laying inside a weak shelter on a farm in the middle of nowhere on Earth on the edge of exhaustion in a rainstorm. All for some drugs and music. It took all the clean towels we’d brought just to soak up the moisture that had already gotten inside and dry ourselves off. We said gork it and pitched our only towels into the dark wet of night.

Id tried to raise my brother on the comm, but couldn’t really… communicate with him. I don’t know whether to blame poor reception out here, or rainwater soaking into my speaker, or him just being incoherently tired..but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. He was no help, all I wanted was a bowl to smoke to help me sleep. I hung up on him in frustration.
Brick began to snore heavily once he passed out. Each of the other nights I’d been stoned enough to ignore it, or was given a separate room entirely. Instead, I was sober, uncomfortable, and not properly covered. I rolled over and looked at Leona, deep in dream already with self-molding earplugs nestled deep enough to even drown out one’s own voice.
I rolled back over on the inflatable swimming pool toy I was using as a bed, pulled over my thin tie-dye tapestry as blanket, and hoped the bullfrogs would serenade me to sleep.

06-08-2309

I flipped through the directions, looking for the set that Brick had prepared for his leg of the journey. The first page was a very small map.

“Huh,” I murmured.

“What’s up?” he inquired, not taking his eyes off the road.

“We’re not going very far before the big ferry… wanna just save our pre-roll for then?” I suggested.

“Alright, sound’s good to me. What are the directions to there?”

“Hmm? Oh, just back the same way we came. Left, left, then merge east on the same freeway we took in,” I read as I scrolled through the directions. “20 miles to the ferry, exit 670.”

“Good, good. We’ll be on Earth in no time.”

I put aside the handset and reached for the Tuni currently plugged into the entertainment system. I played something upbeat for the drive as we weaved in between the shipping rigs. It was the first day of the work week, so today there were more of them in the way. They weren’t much of a hassle though, Brick’s superior Martian driving skills made the trip smooth like butter. Luna City came upon us in no time.

“Yeah, take this one, I’ll get our fare ready.” I reached into the center console’s compartment to retrieve his KEY, and we waited behind a line of half a dozen other crawlers and rovers making the commute to Earth.

When we arrived at what might have been the eighth ticket booth of the trip, a neon vested, older man pointed to a younger version of himself, waving a green light wand as bright as his own vest, then wished us a safe journey.

The glowing youth directed us into a spot in the rear of the right most lane. We killed our headlights and the dark interior of the old carrier became a little dimmer. He used some controller built into his wristat and we could feel large metal clamps securing around our four rubberized treads. He snagged our fare, let another two into the other lanes, each nestling further up in line than us. Before he could wave another in next to us, a thingamajig at his waist began to blink red. He inspected it and made a cutting motion to the booth, then ran off to grab his helmet and fasten himself for the ride.

Klaxons sounded and bright yellow lights swirled in time. A dark, beveled portal began to close with black caution marks tartaring it’s teeth. The smiling booth man disappeared when they clenched tight around him, along with the alarms and the lights. We could hear the whooshing sounds of atmosphere pressurizing outside, and a dim blue light flickered on, barely illuminating the bay from a thin rim around the top. Brick and I glanced around and shrugged.

“Spark it.”

SPACE FERRY

Hoping this thing would stop flashing at us at some point during the ferry ride…but it didnt…

«···»

It didn’t take long at all to get to Earth. I wasn’t paying attention to the time before or after, and couldn’t tell you if it felt like it took fifteen minutes or didn’t even take an hour. But, still before noon, we departed the foghat grey transport and continued under our own power on our route East.

Soon, Luna City disappeared in the rear-view monitors. No, not the little settlement we left earlier this morning, but the booming metropolis planetside that goes by the same name. The analogous towns are linked by the old ferry line joining the Earth to the Moon, but the whale’s portion of the thriving is done by the terrestrial half, leading to the popular adage ‘There’s nothing on Luna, not even Luna City,’ and similar dismaying expressions.

“Wow,” Brick said looking to his left.

“I know,” I responded, looking to my right.

“Lots of trees.”

“And grass.” There was suddenly a violent bump that jolted us. “And more animals…well sort of.”

“I think I just hit an armadillo,” he said with surprise, squinting into his rear monitor.

“Really? They don’t move too quickly, I guess…” I glanced back.

“Little more than a slow moving speed bump.”

“Poor guy.”

“Hey look!” Brick motioned ahead with a nod, “more road kill.”

“Huh… I wonder if there will be even more in the eastern hemisphere.” I thought of raccoons and opossums smeared on the highways near my hometown, the occasional deer that failed crossing, and all those pitiful squirrels.

It was indisputably greener here on Earth. A variety of trees sprung up along the roads as we traveled, cutting off the view from the rest of the landscape. Hills rolled in all directions, breaking the horizon at awkward angles. A bright blue sky sat on top of light fluffy clouds that dissolved into the distance. If was a gorkin beautiful day out.

Such a severe contrast to the dry, rocky land we’d become so accustomed to seeing, what a splendid reprieve from the desolation. Over the next two hours or so, we passed scaled down versions of the farms we’d come know so well and many little towns that sprung out of nowhere. Each had unnecessary little signs too: Birthplace of So-and-So, Site of Such-and-Such, Home of Some-Guy.

“Well that’s special,” I said, critically.

“What’s that, Klay?”

“Seems like fame is easier to find in a small town,” I reasoned. “You automatically become a local hero or a legend if you’re from one of these little places. It’s not like Mars or the big cities that everyone congregates to, just to be lost forever in the sea of names.”

“Yeah, but you’re just the legend to the given bumblegork town, no one outside the city limits will ever–Hey look!” His thought derailed abruptly. “Mr. Cook…isn’t that the guy who won Earthling Idol a few years ago?”

“Yes, and I believe I’ve made my point,” I responded, vindicated.

The city of St. Clovis rose up in the distance, fingers of glass and iron scraping at the sky. Amongst their rigid forms, the soft shape of the gigantic arch emerged, the well recognized and unique landmark downtown. The arch is the portal to the west, nestled against the waterfront, it welcomes all approaching from the other hemisphere with it’s fertile shape. To us though, it was bidding safe travel as we merged onto the titanic bridge that seemed to span an ocean of murky water.

The land on the other side was topsy-turvy. Riddled with rivers and tributaries, it slopped every direction but straight. There was so very little about it that was memorable, I didn’t feel the need to look up from my porti for almost an hour.

I did look up to see the swirling blue lights of a police hammerhead. Traveling on the other side of the highway, thankfully, but the undercover hammerhead still caught me by surprise, sending a cold shiver through my body.

“Wow…you’d never see them coming,” I marveled at how hidden the lighting and sensor arrays were as we passed.

“Don’t say another word, I’m nervous enough,” Brick cautioned.

“Ok, ok, I won’t…Hey would you look at that!”

On our side of the road this time, two well labeled police interceptors were gunneled up against the guard rail behind a small silver crawler, not much unlike our own. And also, not much unlike us, two Earthling youths were cuffed and seated against the rail, interrogated by one officer as the other two scoured the contents of the vehicle. One wore shorts and a scruffy, dark beard, the other wore a grey cap with a colorful scarff, and both looked like they were still in college. We locked eyes with our doppelgangers as we flew by, and things weren’t looking too rosy for them.

“That was gorking creepy!” I turned to Brick, ghastly.

“My stars, what a scary sight,” he readjusted his speed with his right hand and rolled up the windows with his left. “Do me a favor and take that down, this is a police territory, apparently.”

I snatched down the peace symbol dangling from the rear-view monitor. Along with the ashtray, still holding an unsmoked joint and half a dozen roaches, I stowed it deep below a panel in the center console. I even took off the bright, festive scarf I’d had around my neck the entire trip. I was even about to stash the cigis.

“Not so fast, I need those if we’re gonna make it through here alive,” he said as he removed one from the pack and a lighter from his pocket.

Before he could even roll down the window, we were passing another two piggies on our right, this time they were inspecting a rented broadside with Lunar plates. We simply shook our heads in disgust.

“You know, I think these are the most cops I’ve seen on any single day of the trip,” Brick stated.

“I think we’ve seen more in the past 10 minutes than in the rest of our trip combined.” I could have been exaggerating, but there really hadn’t been very many until now.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” he admitted, indicating to his left as he flicked ash off his cigi.

There was another hammerhead hidden in the green median between the two directions of traffic. The way it rested on its haunches, tall grass swaying in front of it’s stoic yellow eyes, reminded me of some big, wild cat, laying in wait and ready to pounce on the first unsuspecting prey traveling fast enough for him to catch. All we could do was hope we wouldn’t look appetizing to them.

We arrived safely at our destination around dusk. After passing the downtown area we were enveloped in trees, like the forest had been allowed to grow back in around this town. The streets were narrow and the architecture was very old world, much like most of the early Earth settlements. It reminded me of the moon Amalthea, specifically the town of Dangle nearby the lodging I stayed there. I wondered if the people here were as friendly.

His cousin Mic was indeed hospitable. Or was it his second cousin…or first cousin once removed–I don’t know, I’ve never met enough of my extended family to need know what the difference is. They called each other cousins, though he was well old enough to be one of our parents. He took us out for a bite at his favorite bar in town.

As I ate my extra meaty sandwich, pork wrapped in bacon, Mic attempted to dispense the wisdom he had acquired over his life, like many people his age were oft to do to people our age. Sweeping metaphors like ‘The Right Path’ and ‘The Way’ grazed right by me, only one thing he said stuck with me.

“Boy, you kids got it made. They’d make you a hero around here if you told them you were from Mars,” he spoke with admiration after taking a large sip. “I used to get girls just by saying I was Martian!”

“Astro! That actually worked around here?” I asked in disbelief.

“Sure did, even said I was a Jovian a few times,” he added with solemn confidence.

“Did you use an accent or anything?” Brick inquired. We glanced at me as if we should be taking notes on it.

“Didn’t even need to. No, they either bought it or they just didn’t care. Folks ‘round here just want something different, they don’t mind if its actually different or not.”

06-06-2309

The sun was up, high over the ridges that surrounded the little town of Saline. The pale rock face and sparse peppering of green scrub seemed more vibrant now that they were illuminated in the day. I squinted as I glanced up at the pale blue sky over the lip of the crater wall that our motel was nestled into. I released a sigh of appreciation for the nice morning on the moon.

“Shall we?” Brick insisted, rolling up from behind me with all his luggage. I was standing by the entrance with my guitar and backpack, smoking my breakfast.

“Sure, I was just taking a moment…You know…we really shouldn’t be alive right now,” I reminded him, “We should have died on that forsaken mountain.”

“I do,” he stopped to contemplate it all again, joining in staring over the dirt wall at the rising star. “I can’t believe we survived that drive.”

“What were we thinking,” I asked rhetorically, turning to him.

“We weren’t,” he sighed to himself and picked up his bags again. “Let’s go, we have to get a move on. There’s a lot of Moon to cover today.”

We situated our gear back in the crawler, had ourselves a hearty breakfast at a little mom-n-pop diner, literally named Mom’s, and were back on the road in no time. The white-stoned terrain streaming past the windows was beautiful, I had no idea how breathtaking the scenery on Luna could be, but maybe I was just appreciating it more since Brick and I just received new leases on life.

Last evening had been just plain hax. In a small town called Hatch we pulled off to the side of the road. While the sun was still in the sky, before the limb of the Earth began to chase it, we ate the Flowers of Taurus. Only half a bag each, but apparently even that was too much.

The next half hour was a worrisome blur. The whole time, my mind cranked away at full speed, shutting me off from control so it could run operations more efficiently before it would take an extended break from functioning properly. I can just remember blasting the speed-limit and groping the lane lines, my autopilot more concerned with making it to the Ingenii Canyon National Park before the awful crunchy things kicked in.

The tollbooth warden warped to hand back my change with his blistered tentacle. With the other hand, covered in pale spots, he handed me a receipt and a clear plate with the map of canyon uploaded. I smiled and thanked him as best as I could, pulled away and straight into the closest parking spot. I resisted the instinct to scream.

“I can’t drive.”

“I figured,” said Brick, sounding ultimately more composed than I’d ever be able to again. “Is it really hitting you yet?”

I simply stared back at him. There was something in my look –whether it was my quivering limbs, twitching face or my planet-wide eyes– that seemed to convey my utter uselessness behind these controls.

“Yeah, I’ll drive from here,” he said, unfastening his seatbelt and opening his hatch simultaneously.

When we reached the top though–oh, what a magnificent view it was. Who cares if all the way up the setting sun, sifting sideways through the spine-like evergreens, didn’t flash in our faces like a strobe. What does it matter if half the rock features were supported by what seemed to be discolored patches of plaster, begging for collapse. Gork all if there weren’t elk to throw themselves in front of oncoming traffic. Everything we crossed along the climb just made the end so much better.

The view from the top Mare Ingenii was to die for. The Large plateau that we stood on the edge of seemed to dissolve away from below our feet. Millennia of slow erosion from the small trickle of water the moon’s thin atmosphere could supply had worked wondrously upon the rock face. It had sculpted thousands of tall pillars, segmented with years of alternating sediment, which seemed to reach up to the cliff edge with a forest of fingers.

From where we stood at the next view point, the hoodoos were fewer and seemed squat. Maybe there was heavier water flow here and only the strongest of rock could survive entropy. The audience of tall, rounded headed children was now seated before us in geometric rows that defied natural logic. Positioned at the head of the class, one enormous pupil that rose above the rest. It’s long flat skull extended from the wide base of its feet, an island that stood resilient against a crevasse that appeared to once direct a waterfall at him. The arm of the Earth began to reach for this hammerhead from a distance, covering beneath it the expanse of uneven Lunar terrain that seemed to stretch on to infinity.

“You realize we still have to drive more after this,” a sudden shot of terror crept my spine. That shrub just talked to me. No, it’s just Brick.

“I’m only starting to now, painfully,” I admitted, turning to the bush.

Brick became less floral and met me with a look that expressed to me his inability to process the world around him properly enough to do so. “What should we do?”

“Well… we can wait it out for about an hour, see how were feeling then. Or we could just try to get as much ground beneath us as possible before that sun comes crashing down,” I reasoned to the best of my ability in my augmented state. We both glanced west to note the position of the sun, well bitten by the teeth of jagged pines all around us. A shudder passed through us, whether from worry or another cool gust blowing up the aisles of stone. “Lets just go now.”

“Agreed.”

Brick seemed to be doing fine behind the helm. He has some more mass than I do, so the same amount of drugs as were in my system weren’t coursing through him so violently. Driving directly into the setting sun was a little bit of a hazard, given our hypersensitivity to light, but we turned north eventually, and were back onto the main road in what seemed like no time at all. The sun soon set behind the high ridge now on our left, bathing the valley before us in purple shadow, it was quite a site at twilight.

“How are you feelin?” the song playing on the stereo seemed to ask me. I shook my head in disbelief, but when it asked me again, I realized it was just Brick speaking without taking his eyes off the road.

“Pretty good until you asked that,” my excitement subsided quickly though. “Yeah, I’m not feeling it so much anymore.”

“Do you think we should spark the last joint of the day now that its getting dark out here?” Brick asked, turning at me now to make sure I knew it was him speaking.

“Well, as long as the road from here on out remains as easy as it’s going now, we should be perfectly fine,” I assumed, though I wasn’t even sure how difficult it was for him to navigate this straight-a-way.

“Besides, it’s just a little weed. What harm could it possibly do?

06-05-2309

The first day started early. 8 am is never been an acceptable hour to wake me up–unless it’s Eridian time. 7:45 is even less appropriate. The knock came at 7.

“Wakey, wakey, sir. Our journey begins,” Brick said excitedly, sticking his head into the room where I slept.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, rolling over. I yawned and sat up as I tried to remember what chords I was playing in my dream, though it was futile. I gave up trying when I realized they probably wouldn’t sound as good in real life anyway; if those notes even existed. I stretched and began to move my blood around, finding I was better rested than I expected to be, I surely thought my anticipation would cut into my sleep. I felt fortunate for the weeks of preparation that went into this day. My bags were ready, the crawler was packed, the drugs were waiting. All that was left was for us to pile in and take off.

We weren’t taking the Fondgrid company vehicle, couldn’t get the clearance. Instead wed just be taking Brick’s crawler, which he would then drive back to school to have there, and then bring back home when he graduated next summer. We could take the same route we planned from Mars to Luna: drive a few hours to get to the UA Ferry, which departs just north of Valles Marineris–the middle of the gorking desert–and land on what Earthlings commonly refer to as the far side of the moon.

Then tomorrow, after a 12 hour haul that will be hard to sleep through while still sitting in the crawler, we’ll drive east! Through the mountains and valleys and more gorking mountains, until it starts to flatten out, much like a wave function, into the smooth flat plains on the near side of the moon. Then we could take a more direct route to the southern hemisphere of Earth, since we wouldn’t be restricted to a ferry large enough to carry a broadside. We could use the Old Gammatheon ferry, which follows as close to ancient Rte. 66 as you can get these days. It would make our overall trip less lengthy and a lot more historic all at once.

“Hey, looks like we get to go through Dominia on this route,” I realized, inspecting the new course. “The complete other side of the territory from where I was born, but that’s cosmo none the less.”

“Bring it back to today’s map,” he requested, looking over at the PDA in my hand while we were stopped at a signal. “I just want to see which freeway it says to take out of here.”

“Looks like…the 60 to Berdu, and the 15 on,” I responded, finding the information quickly, “we’re heading the right way.”

“Excellent, excellent. When do we want to start?” Brick asked, motioning to the closed ashtray resting between us.
“Let’s get out of this sprawl first, I’ll feel much safer about it if we just reach the desert first. And we’ve only got one pre-roll for today, anyway.”

“You’ve got a point, how long do we have?”

“As your navigator, I advise you to drive at top speed…”

“Don’t you start with that yet,” he shot me a preemptive glare.

I giggled to myself as soon as he turned back to the road, merging onto the freeway. I could see it stretch out impossibly far before me, disappearing into the far mountains. I had no idea what lay on the other side, but couldn’t wait to find out.

06-02-2309

Like watching the leaves recede to mark the coming of fall, or pteradactyls migrating to the southern hemisphere at the start of winter, you know summer’s right around the corner when you see all the kids from Earth lined up at the ports: loaded down by backpacks emblazoned with college letterings. This season is always littered with vacations and getaways, but this particular year is significant to me. This is the year I should have graduated, the year the rest of my high school class finishes college. This is the year I was supposed to start the next stage of my life.

Most subsidized student loans don’t have to be paid off until 6 months after you complete your education. It’s a buffer intended to give you enough time to find a job and ease into the career you’ve set your heading to: a good half year to get a foothold before the bills start flooding in. Most new bachelors and masters opt to spend their last free months taking in some life before being locked into their professions, as well as any remainder of the loan credits. The trendiest thing to do after getting your degree is to backpack Jupiter.

Granted, most kids I used to go to school with are interested in pursuing even higher forms of education, now concerned with what grad school their getting into, but a good portion of my classmates are taking this opportunity to enjoy the last part of their life they have any real control over. Before the blinders are lowered and the chute is opened–before the trap hatch is released from under them and they slide blindly into society, feet first. I pity them.

I don’t know why though, they’re so much closer to having a life than I am. Technically, I’m still a rising freshman, having never completed a year of college in the several attempts I’ve made to start. But should I really feel left behind? What are they inching towards that I want so badly? A good credit score? A mortgage or accumulating equity? Health, dental, home owners and life insurance? Crawler payments?

No. I don’t want any of the slag that goes along with being a responsible adult. It just seems so unnatural to me, like some manmade trap of plastic and wire. I’d rather live a life of freedom, a life not determined by how much I make or what my possessions are worth to other people. I’d prefer if the rest of my life was lived on my terms. I think the beauty and riches of experiencing the world around you should be the motivation for you to get out of bed every morning, not a series of deadlines bearing down on you or bill collectors breathing down your neck.

So I decided I’m going to go on an adventure this summer, too. Not a well deserved break from a bunch of voluntary obligations I‘ve gotten myself into, but a completely unnecessary trip of discovery. I want to see the world, not because it may be the last chance I ever get to before rats come marching in, but just because I haven’t felt like I’ve seen anything yet.

Good bye, palm trees and red desert; hello, adventure. Don’t worry, Mars, I’ll be back to taste your wonders soon enough…but first I’ve got some business to take care of at home.

05-20-2309

Brick’s back in town!

Fondgrid has been one of my best friends for a while. Of the first acquaintances I made after moving to this desolate rock, I think he’s the only person I still hang out with. Well, I say that relatively since I only see him when he makes visits during his breaks from college on Earth, though that’s still far more often than I run into anyone else from Fender. I know I just saw him two months ago when he came for the spring holiday, but it’s always good to have another friend around.

He had grown up and graduated with Leucosia, the girl I was dating back then–you know, the one I came to Mars for. It was so nice to find someone as intelligent as all my friends were growing up, and I can remember great times hanging out, just the three of us, anytime he was back home from school. Late nights and the lights of Fender below, just smoking, drinking, talking…I miss those days, come to think of it. After she and I broke up, he did his best not to take sides, but always knew where to come if he needed a good smoke session and to nerd off with someone.

He’s only staying in town two more weeks, though. At first I was upset that he wouldn’t even be back for a whole month, but last night I changed my mood about it.

“Say, sir, what are you doing come June?” Brick asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke in my direction.

“Uh…I’m pretty sure I have nothing going this summer,” I contemplated it as I took a hit, the exception coming to mind as I passed it back to him. “Oh wait, I’ve got one thing towards the end of June. Eon is making a trip back to grab all the stuff she left.”

“All the stuff they broke into your crawler for and didn’t even take?” he sneered.

“That’s the stuff. She’s coming to get it all and I just have to be around to give it to her, why do you ask?” He handed the glass back to me in a nano, indicating with his eyebrows that the ash needed to be cleared.

“Oh, no reason, just…ROAD TRIP!!” he exclaimed, catching me so off guard that I almost dropped the fragile smoking piece.

“What? Really? Where?” I didn’t know which I wanted him to answer first.

“I’m going to Earth, same way I drove last summer, but this time I’m staying in Carolina, working at the plant there til I go back to school in the fall. I think I can make more credits there than working for their Martian branch in Fender.”

His family owned a corporation called Fondgrid Foods based in Olympus County. You might have seen them, I can’t remember if we had any back home, but in most of the sandwich cases in Martian liquor stores, you’ll spot an array of their products, neatly packaged with their famous red label. I’m kinda partial to Fondgrid jerky myself. He usually spends his summers working for his father to make a few credits for school, but last summer he had driven a company broadside to their branch in Carolina, just a few hours south of Knossopolis.

“Really, well I’ll be blasted,” I was excitedly distracted from filling the glass up again.

“And before I start working…BONNAROO!!” I almost dropped it again.

Bonnaroo is a huge deal–Earth’s largest annual music and arts festival, or at least the biggest one I’ve ever been to. It rivals certain Martian events like the Electric Carnival and Palmchella; some even consider it Earth’s equivalent to Burning Man. Some.

The half-weeklong jamboree is frequented by that same hippie crowd. Still preaching the same verses of peace and love our parents have been singing since the late 2260s. Back in my younger (more drug addled) days it was exactly my kind of scene. I may have gotten all my chemical experimentation out of the way early in life, but I think I could still agree with ideals of peace and unity. Granted, there’s a bit fewer paisleys and rainbows around, mostly flashing LEDs and glowsticks, but whose keeping score, anyway?

“That’s astro, dude. I’m really jealous,” I congratulated him with contempt, remembering the fun I had, during the parts I could remember.

“Like I asked, what are you doing this summer? Cause one of the girls I’m tenting with dropped out and is selling her ticket for half price, and, uh…I don’t feel like making that trip alone this year..” he said. I was too shocked to say anything. So he continued, “it will take a day to get to the ferry, 2 to get across Luna and another 2 across the western continent of Earth. The other girl that’s still coming is catching a direct flight in on the 9th, so we just have to make sure we’re at least as far as the Appalachia Spaceport by then.”

“So we’d have to leave by 4th or sometime early on the 5th to make it in time,” I responded, the gears in my head grinding away.

“So you’ll come?! Sweet!” Brick cheered, adding a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, credits will only sorta be an issue. It’s pool season and my dad owes me a trip. Blast, what does he care, he’ll just be stoked he doesn’t have to cover my spacefare,” and that money could go towards gas, lodging, food and the ticket for the show, I realized.

“Man, this is going to be the ultimest road trip. Ever!” I could tell that his Martian gears were spinning at full steam as well. “Should we go closer to the northern hemisphere of Luna like I did last time, or try the deep southern hemi?”

“Mmm…well the only thing I’d want to do in southern Luna is visit my aunt in New Martia, but I don’t really have the time, it would be out of the way. Besides, that means we’d probably have to go through more of the south of Earth,” The image of front porches swaying with giant swingseats and battle flags made me shudder. “Which I am less than willing to do.”

“I as well, good sir, I as well,” Fondgrid confirmed.

“Hey, this way I could just bring all of Eon’s stuff with me to Earth, and neither of us have to worry about having enough room, or it being too heavy,” I pondered another nano, “we’ll have enough room in the broadside for a couple of extra cases, right?”

“Yes, we should. We may need to cut down on other extra weight though, but I don’t mind if you don’t,” he agreed to the idea.

“No I don‘t, I need to practice packing less anyway. Hold on, lemme just text her real quick. Run through the plan again, please?” I set the half-full pipe aside for a moment and reached into one of my pockets for my texti. With one swift motion of my thumb, I slid the comm open and began to compose a new message.

“Ok, in two weeks we leave from Fender, heading north west, past the Tharsis Montes and just North of the Mariners Valleys. From there we catch a quick ferry to Luna. There we stick to the northern hemisphere and the same when we finally get to Earth. We’ll cut through the bottom of your territory and be in Carolina in no time. This way we avoid the rednecks and the hicks and drop 10 kg by not having to carry a weapon and ammunition. Then, Bonnaroo. Good?”

“Well hold on a nano, Brick. We don’t want to go too far north right? Terra is nice and all, but even in summer, it’s cold as the balls of an Acheron penguin up there. I mean, I think that’s why they put the border there in the first place. We should stay in the Territories.”

“Yes, Klay, I know all about it. My school is right next to the Terran Border. I left my passport there for a reason,” he chuckled.

“So that means we’re left with one option: to go through the religious ring,” I concluded, “so I still want to bring a shotgun.” We both laughed out loud.

“Shut up, we’ll be fine. Besides, I plotted this route so we’d barely touch that horrible area” he laughed. “Now have you decided on a good school for it yet, or are you just baby sitting the little thing?” he said indicating to the inert glass in my hand, trying make a crack at me.

“Uh, right,” caught off guard by the joke, I looked down at the glass pipe, charged and ready to go, then smirked. “To the Summer!” I raised in toast. The lighter snapped aglow.