When Zed woke the next morning and rolled over, he felt like he’d made the descent to Mars in nothing but a space suit. It had been a while since he’d slept in a room with a planet below it that was actively trying to pull him to its core, and he felt every pound of it.

  Then Zed remembered that he was finally going to get his CIG today. He still wasn’t entirely sure what this mysterious piece of tech was, but he knew Mars had been the first place this advanced augmented reality gadget had been deployed because of its prohibitive cost. Jarra Gunnardóttir was the inventor, so it made sense she’d put her latest and greatest to work in places she considered important.

  Whatever the case, it was apparently leaps and bounds beyond the glasses and controllers he’d had access to on Earth. Using it also involved signing a thick stack of NDAs, which was why details were scarce. He’d heard rumors that it was something that had to be implanted directly into your eyeball, but he doubted that and didn’t want to think about the possibility. No matter how cool the tech, intact eyeballs were a must.

  Either way, it was certainly worth getting out of bed for. That and food. Zed’s stomach gurgled, and he realized he was ravenous. A strange thought occurred to him: the last time he'd eaten had been in space. This would be his first meal on another planet.

  As they followed the ceiling chevrons toward the center of Naug, the Marshes soon found themselves entering the largest room they had seen since arriving. The mess hall was at least 40 meters in diameter and perfectly circular. It was very much the heart of Naug and sat at the center of the city’s bullseye.

  “Alright, let’s grab some food and get a move on. Lots to do today,” Ana said, leading them into the room. She glanced over her shoulder at Zed. “And lots of catching up to do.”

  Zed ignored the comment and looked around. The room was filled with tables that had been extruded from the floor, much like the furniture in their quarters. Each table was flanked by a bench that also seemed to emerge from the ground.

  Was there anything in this place that hadn’t been printed from Martian cement? Other colonists (or was it Martians, or maybe Naugies?) were streaming in now.

  The Marshes found their way into the line forming along one section of the curved wall that was interrupted by a series of booths. People walked up to the booths and came away with trays covered in various foods.

  Zed thought he spotted something that looked like pancakes. He knew the diet on Mars was more or less vegan, so he wasn’t expecting to find bacon and eggs, but he could definitely go for some pancakes. They hadn’t exactly been an option on the trip. It would be hard to use a griddle in zero gravity.

  When his turn arrived, Zed stepped into the booth and was faced with three levers set above a small, recessed metal door that he assumed the tray of food would emerge from. Three levers and nothing more. No screen of options. No buffet line.

  Am I missing something? Zed wondered.

  Feeling the growing pressure of the line he knew was stretching out behind him, he pulled the middle lever. A few mechanical thuds later, a tray with a bowl of porridge and a cup of something green emerged on the ledge in front of him. He waited a moment, but nothing else happened, so he took his tray and exited the booth.

  He saw his mother gesturing to him from a nearby table where she and his father were sitting with the Chaplain, Baat.

  “Ah, I see you got the kasha,” Baat said. “I thought about choosing that. I grew up on a similar cereal.”

  “I’ll trade you if you want. I was trying for pancakes, but I guess I picked the wrong lever.”

  “Zed, leave the man alone. It’s not his fault you picked the wrong food,” Ed Marsh interjected.

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  Baat chuckled. “Oh, that’s quite alright, Mr. Marsh. I forgot that you haven’t received your eye gizmos yet. It’s terribly kind of you to offer, Zed, and I believe I’ll take you up on that deal. It sounds like a nice taste of home, and you need to get all the nutrition you can after all.”

  Baat gestured to Zed’s stitches as they traded trays.

  “It’s not so bad now,” Zed said, digging into the pancakes.

  These aren’t bad either, he thought, savoring the spongy texture.

  He could tell they weren’t quite what he was used to, but he didn’t really care.

  Or maybe food just tasted different on Mars, he thought. Like how space has a sort of smell.

  “How is the whole lever thing supposed to work anyway?” Zed asked through a full mouth.

  “Manners, Zed,” Ana said reflexively.

  “Well, I don’t want to spoil any of the fun for you, but let’s just say that you haven’t really seen Naug yet,” Baat said with a wink.

  Zed looked around at the other colonists. No sign of any AR glasses or robotic eyes. He gave Baat’s eyes a hard look, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He had a momentary flash of panic as he imagined himself surrounded by Martian pod people.

  One of Zed’s obsessions was old science fiction radio dramas from the nineteen forties and fifties. The kind that had been made before anyone had ever actually been to space, and the possibilities were endless. The kind where people pronounced “robot” as “robutt” for reasons that Zed still couldn’t figure out.

  Zed and Baat had bonded over ancient science fiction on the long trip here, though Baat’s interests tended to skew more literary. Following his cosmonaut career, Baat had gone to Oxford, followed by seminary. He had perfected his English there and still carried a distinctly proper British accent and cadence.

  His pancakes finished, Zed stood, picked up his tray, and turned to walk toward the basin everyone seemed to be piling theirs into. He took half a step and then caught himself. “Is anyone else finished?” he asked, turning back to the table.

  “Good save,” his mother said, handing him her tray. Ed and Baat did the same.

  “Thank you, Zed,” Baat said.

  “Hurry back,” Ana said. “The Commander will be here any minute for our tour, and I do not intend to be late this time.”

  Zed turned and hurried over to the basin. He got in line behind a group from a table that he had noticed glancing at him earlier. They disposed of their dishes and were about to walk away when one of them noticed him and stopped.

  “Well, well. I guess we know that Naug has finally become a real city now,” he said, folding his arms.

  Zed looked at the man’s face, and with a small jolt of adrenaline, he realized it was Andy, the poorly-mustached young man he'd run into in the corridor yesterday.

  “‘Cause it has kids in it?” Zed asked, now blocked from ditching his arm full of dishes and making a quick exit.

  The dark-haired woman standing beside Andy seemed uncomfortable with the whole exchange and put a hand on Andy’s elbow as if trying in vain to turn his attention.

  “No,” Andy said, unfolding his arms and leaning in closer. “It’s a city now because we finally have our first useless, jobless freeloader. It just wouldn’t be a real society without a proper leech, now would it?”

  Andy’s companions laughed.

  Zed had always preferred a biting reply as his go-to defense mechanism. He tried to hold it back most of the time, but usually that energy was spent avoiding conflicts with his parents. Looking at the grin on Andy’s face, he knew he wasn't going to even attempt to hold his tongue this time.

  “Well, Andy, we all have our parts to play. I can’t help being a leech just like you can’t help being the village idiot.”

  One of Andy’s group let out a snort and then regained control. He rubbed his nose as if it had just been an ill-timed sneeze.

  Andy took a step toward Zed and then froze. The others seemed to stiffen as well. They pulled away from Andy a step, looking at something over Zed’s shoulder.

  Zed turned and saw Commander Jones standing stone-faced ten feet away, intimidating as ever. She didn’t move or say a word.

  The group shifted and slowly dispersed, but as Andy walked past Zed, he leaned down and said under his breath, “Take it easy, leech; wouldn’t want you to strain yourself. No point in using up more oxygen than you’re already wasting.”

  With that, the group walked off and out of the mess hall.

  Zed stood there, frozen for a moment until he realized people were starting to line up behind him. He quickly threw the dishes down into the basin and walked back to the table where Commander Jones was now walking.

  “Ah! Commander Jones!” Ana said as she saw them approaching. “It’s so kind of you to give us this tour yourself. I’m sure you’re an incredibly busy woman.”

  “Yes,” she said flatly, then turned to Zed. “But firsts are important, and I think Zed here represents something very significant for this place, even if that isn’t apparent to all just yet.” She held his gaze a moment longer, then turned abruptly and walked toward the exit, gesturing over her shoulder for them to follow.

  "It's time we gave you eyes to see," she called back over her shoulder.