Keeping up with Thabisa Jones was easier said than done.

  Zed was well over a foot taller than the Commander, but he had little doubt she would beat him in a foot race. She moved with force and intention, which also made her a poor tour guide as she powered ahead.

  The Marshes tried their best to keep up with her brisk pace and rapid-fire delivery of information about the places they were passing.

  She confirmed Zed’s observations about how Inauguration was built. The rooms and structures radiated out from a central hub. Before many people had arrived, robots had been sent to dig into the crater and use those materials to print the spaces they would need within it.

  “If you observe Naug from the outside, it looks more like a red contact lens than a crater,” the Commander said. “Originally, there was enough space printed for up to five hundred residents. After your ship’s arrival yesterday, our population is now at two hundred and sixteen. As it stands, about half of the crater is built out but not in use. It was designed so that we could unseal sections as the colony grew. The crater is divided into twelve wedges like a pie. Seven of the wedges are in active use. All our command structures and major infrastructure are based near the center and are deeper underground to add an extra layer of protection. In case of an emergency breach, we have the ability to isolate each wedge while still providing life support to each.”

  As they walked down the corridors, the Commander stopped in front of a large double door. Like every other door they had passed, there were no markings or signs on it. She turned to Zed and said, “If you have time later, I’d recommend swinging back here and getting Ethan Johns to show you where our food comes from. He’s the chief botanist and acts as both farmer and chef, though he prefers to be called the ‘robotanist.’ If it grows, it’s his domain. He’s responsible for the plants we eat as well as the automated system that prepares our meals.”

  “While it was via some mealtime Russian roulette, we certainly enjoyed what he made this morning,” Ed Marsh said.

  “Roulette?" The Commander asked, then nodded as realization dawned. "Of course. Your lack of CIGs. I forget how much we rely on them for the little things. It’s V.C.I.G., technically, but you’d be amazed at how many syllables we’ve lost as younger and younger colonists have arrived.”

  Zed thought he detected the hint of a smile at the sharp corner of the Commander’s lips. Now that he thought about it, it was the first hint of emotion he’d seen break through Thabisa Jones’s reticent exterior.

  “To be fair, they do actually look a bit like cigars or cigarettes, so I guess it is apt,” she said, as if it made things any clearer for them.

  “I miss cigars so much. Right this way,” the Commander said, turning and continuing down the hall away from hydroponics. “Any questions?”

  Zed psyched himself up to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d seen her standing there in the flesh the day before. “What was it like?” he asked quietly. “What was it like stepping out that first time? I’ve seen you talk about the events a million times on TV, but… what was it like?”

  Thabisa Jones had been the first human to set foot on Mars, or any other planet for that matter. Her journey to that moment had in no way gone as planned. Despite a harrowing six-month journey followed by the loss of her co-pilot to a freak aneurysm as they plummeted through the Martian atmosphere, she had completed the mission. She had stepped out of the ship, utterly alone. Instead of planting a flag, she had buried a friend. The red cairn she built over Fredrick Gorski was the first structure ever built on Mars.

  As he spoke, Thabisa Jones stopped and gave him her full attention. She stared at him for a long moment. This time, Zed was positive he could see a smile forming on her lips. For some reason, it frightened him a little.

  “Much has been made of the tragedy that surrounded my first trip here,” she said quietly. “But the truth is that even surrounded by hardship and death, when I first looked out with my own eyes and saw two moons in the sky, I felt utter peace. I think it’s why I’m still here. My hope is that I’ll be not only the first to walk on Mars but the first to die here of old age. I’d like a cairn of my own next to Fred.” Her smile took on a twinge of sadness. She turned and continued down the corridor.

  A little stunned, they silently followed. Ana gave Zed a look that promised a lecture in his near future.

  A five-minute stroll later, they turned into a long room and were greeted by banks of flashing servers and long workbenches covered in enough electronic odds and ends to make Zed’s inner neat freak have a minor panic attack.

  “The child!” a voice called in an Eastern European accent as they entered.

  A tall woman who looked to be in her early twenties emerged from behind one of the server stacks and enveloped Zed in a hug, lifting him a few inches off the ground. She set him down and kissed each cheek.

  “You are adorable! I have so missed seeing children. I have a nephew about your age back on Earth.” The woman smiled at him and pinched his cheek. “You and your friends bring new life to Mars! But you, you are the baby now!”

  Commander Jones stepped forward. “Uh…if you’re done breaking the boy’s ribs, Alina, I’d like to introduce you to the Marshes. Marshes, this is Alina Kotov. She’s one of our electronics experts, and until yesterday, at least, she was the youngest citizen of Inauguration.”

  “A title I gladly pass on to you, little koshenya,” Alina said, beaming at Zed. “You’ve beaten me by almost a decade!”

  “Hi, Alina, I’m Ana. This is my husband, Ed, and—uh—our son, Zed.” Ed and Ana extended their hands, which Alina shook vigorously. Zed didn’t bother extending a hand. After the rib-crushing hugs and kisses, he figured he’d been properly introduced.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  “It is wonderful to meet you all!” Alina gave a little bow. She stopped mid-bow and stared into Ana’s eyes, taking a step closer. Ana leaned back ever so slightly as Alina entered her personal space.

  “Ah!” Alina exclaimed. “You are here for CIGs!”

  She turned to Zed.

  “You poor thing. Breakfast must have been very confusing for you.” She said this as if Zed were her pampered pet dog.

  Alina laughed and abruptly turned to one of the workbenches, pulling three small rectangular boxes from a drawer. In contrast to much of the other electronics in the room, the objects she held looked shockingly clean and simple. It was as if the drawer contained a portal to the future from which she had plucked alien technology.

  Alina handed each of them a box.

  “These are your V.C.I.G.s,” Alina said, spelling out each letter with care. “Or ‘CIGs,’ as we call them. Just be sure you don’t try to smoke them, yes?” Alina laughed again, though Zed got the impression she derived more joy from making herself laugh than from trying to amuse anyone else.

  When Zed opened his, he saw what Alina meant. The box contained what looked like a ten-centimeter-long cylinder about three and a half centimeters in diameter. It was brown and seemed to be made of a silicone-like material, though he could see patterns of metal just under the surface. A seam ran around the middle of the cylinder, and one of the halves had its end colored a crimson red, giving the impression of a cigarette filter by its placement.

  The ends of this silicone cigar were inset with what Zed could only describe as bottle caps, though these were made of the same silicone-wrapped metal as the rest.

  Zed gingerly removed the CIG from the box and felt a magnetic tension release as he did so. It felt oddly heavy in his hand.

  “These are your virtual contact integrated graphics units,” Alina said, emphasizing each word in the acronym as she spoke. “As you noticed at breakfast, there are very few screens on Mars. The CIGs let us cut them out entirely, saving a lot of payload space and improving the efficiency of how the colony runs. You’ll see what I mean in a moment. Now I want each of you to break your CIG in two, like this.” She made a gesture of cracking an egg with her thumbs.

  Zed applied pressure to the cylinder as if he meant to break it in two. He felt another pop of releasing magnets and found himself holding two equal halves of the cylinder. The inner surface was concave, with spiraling ridges running out from the center. Suspended within the concave area was something that resembled a gold contact lens.

  “Now, take the lens from the half with the red end and put it in your right eye. Then, of course, the other one in your left,” Alina said as she pantomimed the actions.

  They all did as she instructed. For a moment, Zed thought he had gone blind. The contacts seemed to block all light. He blinked once and was shocked when light flooded his retinas again, as if he hadn’t just put a piece of tech in his eye.

  Alina continued her highly animated pantomime instructions. “Pop the ends from your CIG halves like so.” Alina looked as if she were trying to light two cigarette lighters at once.

  What’s with all the tobacco imagery? Zed wondered. He pulled his thumb over the bottle cap-like insets, and they popped off with a satisfying click.

  Alina tapped the patch of skin behind her ears, and Zed saw that she had CIG caps affixed there.

  He wasn’t sure how these were supposed to stick to his skin since they had no apparent adhesive, but he made the attempt anyway. To his surprise, they held fast, and no amount of shaking his head could dislodge them.

  Zed had to resist the urge to whirl around as he heard three mournful notes played on an oboe just over his shoulder. He noticed his parents having similar reactions.

  “And last but not least,” Alina continued, “take the two remaining halves you hold and unroll them until they snap straight.”

  As she said this, she removed what they now realized was a CIG half that had been wrapped around her left forearm and unrolled it. Once straightened, it held its shape. “And now, give it a good smack against the middle of your forearm, like this.” She slapped the long, slim piece down, and it instantly wrapped around her arm. “The one with the red half goes on your right arm, just like the contact.”

  They wrapped the CIG halves around their arms as instructed.

  Every step of this process felt incredibly satisfying, Zed thought. The moment he wrapped the second band around his arm, he found himself staring at the floating low-polygon head of a purple woman.

  “Congratulations on receiving your new V.C.I.G. unit, and welcome to Mars!” the head said in an enthusiastic voice that Zed thought would feel right at home in one of his old nineteen-fifties radio dramas.

  An armless hand, rendered in the same low-polygon style as the head, reached out to shake Zed’s hand. He reached out to pretend to shake it. His breath caught in his throat as he made contact with the hand. He could feel every edge and angle as his fingers wrapped around the virtual hand. His brain didn’t know how to process it when he felt a squeeze and a little shake before the hand released his and vanished once more.

  “What the…”

  “When you’re ready to continue setup, just snap your fingers and I’ll be there in a jiff!” The head gave Zed a grin that seemed oddly distorted by the low resolution of her design.

  “So that was Gin,” Alina said. “She can help you with any questions you have, but for now, you should be all set! As you can see, the CIGs give you access to an XR interface far beyond anything you would have used back on Earth. Needless to say, these little rolls are crazy expensive, so they’re not available to the public yet. Luckily for us, the company developing these is run by a huge space nerd who was more than happy to contribute to our little adventure. You should have an easier time navigating Naug now. For instance, at breakfast tomorrow, you’ll be able to see the menu over the levers. No more guessing.”

  Zed glanced at his parents, who both appeared to be in similar states of shock as he was at the impossibly physical aspects of their new personal computers. The word "computer" was starting to feel like an entirely inadequate term to describe what this little piece of tech could really do.

  Commander Jones stepped forward. “I’m afraid this will have to be the end of our tour. Duty calls. If I may, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh, I would like to make a request of young Zed.”

  Ana and Ed exchanged surprised glances but nodded. The Commander turned to Zed and made a few gestures in the air before dropping her arms back to parade rest.

  “I know you’ll have your studies, but I want to give you a task. It’s not mandatory, but I know how important it can be to feel like we have a purpose and a role in the bigger picture.”

  Zed looked down and swallowed. Clearly, she had heard at least some of the conversation with Andy in the mess hall. He simply nodded.

  “You’re quite an artist from what I hear.” She smiled at him, and Zed relaxed. “As you explore what your CIG can do, you’ll find that it’s a perfect way to flex your artistic skills. Since the CIGs can be used for augmented or virtual reality, they not only serve as a tool but also as an outlet and escape—a way to stay sane on a world that, while starkly beautiful, is far more barren than any desert on the one we left.”

  She paused and made another series of hand motions at hip level.

  “I’ve just transferred you access to the dimensions and public CIG overlay of the mess hall. Give it some life, Zed.”

  Then the Commander turned and walked away with the same purposeful stride with which she had entered.