In the following week, Zed made several more attempts to speak to or message Miranda. Aside from managing to catch her eye once in the mess hall, he was unsuccessful. He was running out of time if there was going to be any hope of patching things up. The next launch back up to The Attic for transfer to Earth was tomorrow.

  Logically, he knew he hadn’t caused the accident, but that didn’t make it any easier knowing that someone he cared about believed he had killed her father. Every time he replayed that conversation, he felt it cut as deep as it had the first time he heard it.

  A final chance for a face-to-face with Miranda presented itself the morning of the launch, and from an unexpected place.

  Zed was eating breakfast early. It had become the norm for him this past week. He had been waking up in the middle of the night without fail. This early morning time, with fewer people in the mess hall and a table to himself, just watching the worlds he created through the virtual cracks in the dome, had become his favorite part of the day.

  Sometimes Baat would join him, but they usually kept their words few, sensing each other’s enjoyment of the quiet. Zed would stare up at the dome, and Baat would typically sit reading his Bible while sipping tea, or whatever passed for tea.

  Zed was startled by the clatter of a tray being set down beside him. He turned to see who had disrupted his morning peace, only to find himself staring at an extended hand, the back of which was covered in an unusually dense amount of light-colored hair.

  “Hey, man! How’s it going? Been a minute,” Jonah said without pause.

  Zed looked up into Jonah’s face. He was wearing his usual baseball cap, though today he had his skullet in a ponytail.

  “Uh, hi. What’s up?”

  “Straight to it, I like that, Zed. It’s a very manly quality. Well, I’ll tell ya. I could sure use another set of hands getting some cargo loaded up onto the Monstro this morning. It wouldn’t take long, but boy, I’d sure appreciate it if you’re able.”

  In truth, the last thing Zed wanted to do was interact with anyone. He certainly didn’t want to mix it with manual labor. He was about to say no but then recalled Jonah’s kindness on his first day in Naug. Moving a few boxes around was the least he could do.

  “Yeah, I can help, I guess,” Zed said.

  He realized after it came out how unenthusiastic his own voice sounded. He hoped that Jonah wouldn’t take offense.

  Jonah’s round face lit up, his mustache curling up at the corners.

  “Sweet!” Jonah exclaimed, either not noticing or not caring about Zed’s subdued response. He gave Zed a neck-popping slap on the back. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Oh, you mean like right now?” Zed said in surprise.

  “It is a bit time-sensitive, yes,” Jonah said, his smile unfaltering.

  Zed thought he saw something else in Jonah's expression, but before he knew it, Jonah was walking briskly out of the mess. He scrambled to keep up, fumbling his tray into the dirty dish receptacle with a clatter that echoed through the domed room. Zed jogged down the corridor until he got close enough to match pace a step behind the tall Texan.

  They walked in silence for a few minutes until they entered the hangar through one of the smaller side doors. Two Monstro transports sat in their bays, the nearest one having its rear hatch lowered.

  Jonah motioned for Zed to grab the other end of a storage locker that had been set against the wall. They heaved it off the floor in unison.

  Jonah took the lead and navigated around the mechanical odds and ends that lay about the hangar floor. As they descended down the short ramp into the bay and made their way to the Monstro’s rear, Zed thought he heard voices growing louder in the corridor.

  “Almost there,” Jonah wheezed. “I sure do appreciate you helping me with this.”

  “Couldn’t you have just used a dolly?” Zed grunted.

  He didn’t mean to sound rude; he just felt this whole exercise was an odd waste of time.

  Jonah shrugged. “If you want to join me in the cockpit, our passengers should be here any minute, and we can get this stuff unloaded on the other side.”

  Now, Zed was getting annoyed. He really didn’t mind helping, but this was ballooning into a bit more than he’d bargained for, especially on a morning when he would have preferred to be left to his own thoughts.

  “Sure,” was all he said. He made his way to the cockpit and sat down heavily in the copilot's seat.

  Zed realized that the last time he'd been in a Monstro was his first day on Mars. That felt like ages ago now. The cockpit was positioned slightly higher than the thick, whale-like body that made up the rest of the vehicle.

  The cockpit was wider than the main body on either side, providing as much visibility as possible. This was particularly useful considering that you couldn’t exactly pop open a window and stick your head out like a truck driver on Earth might do.

  Zed heard noise coming from the rear passenger compartment.

  “Sounds like our final cargo has arrived,” Jonah said and pressed a button on the underside of his control panel.

  Sitting in such a massive vehicle, Zed expected to hear the chug of a diesel motor starting up. Then he remembered that there was no diesel to be had on Mars, and this vehicle, like every other, was electric.

  A confirmation light came on, indicating that the back hatch had closed. Jonah pulled forward into the vehicle airlock, which was only slightly bigger than the Monstro itself. The door closed behind them, and they waited as the air was sucked out of the space.

  The far door opened, and sunlight spilled in. Jonah eased the throttle forward, and the Monstro rolled out of the airlock with what felt like mere inches of clearance on either side. As they came clear, Zed got his first good look at the sky since his grounding.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  He exhaled and felt a bit of the weight that had been sitting on his heart lift. For a moment, he just sat there and enjoyed seeing the Martian landscape roll by in all its stark glory.

  “Would you mind checking on our passengers for me? I’m supposed to make sure everyone buckles up before an excursion, but it slipped my mind today,” Jonah said, not taking his eyes off the trail ahead.

  “Yeah, sure,” Zed said, pulling his gaze away from the large crater passing by on their right. He slid out of his seat and made his way down the short stairway to the door that separated the cockpit from the Monstro’s main cabin.

  The light was dim as he entered. The sun wasn’t in the right position to provide much illumination from the windows, and the ceiling lights weren’t particularly bright. Zed was halfway down the center aisle before he realized that the passengers Jonah had been referring to were, in fact, George and Miranda Ens.

  Zed froze. It was the first time he’d even caught a glimpse of Miranda since the day of the funeral. He wasn’t sure he could face her again without any hope of escape. Before anyone else could say something, George stood up between them and raised his hands in a preemptive surrender.

  “Zed, I had Jonah get your help under false pretends."

  "Pretenses," Miranda corrected quietly, more as a reflex than anything else.

  "Pretenses," George repeated, smiling. His sister's correction seemed to bolster him. "I’m sorry, but don’t blame Jonah.”

  Zed looked at him without expression, trying his best to understand what was going on.

  “Look, Miranda and I are about to head off-world, and I don’t know if we’ll ever see you again, but I wanted to at least give you two a chance to clear the air and leave on less of a yikes kind of note.”

  George turned back to Miranda.

  “Before you get mad, I know you. I know that the second we lift off, you’ll start beating yourself up for leaving things as they are.”

  Miranda looked just as frozen as Zed felt. She glanced up at Zed from her seat but wouldn’t hold his gaze. She nodded slowly, although to what exactly, Zed couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m—I know logically you didn’t do anything. If anyone could have known, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. I am sorry for putting any of this on you, but at the same time—I just can’t…”

  Miranda sat up a little straighter and took a breath but continued to stare at anything but Zed.

  Zed wasn’t sure what to say or even think. He hadn’t had much experience with death or grieving, let alone how to deal with such a strange and uncomfortable situation. He found himself speaking almost without thinking.

  “When I was a kid, my favorite streamer used to play this cartoony farming game. I was obsessed with that game for the longest time. Then one day, I went to watch a stream and found a message on the site saying the streamer had died somehow. I don’t even remember from what, but after that, I couldn’t bring myself to play the game. Dumb, I know. It wasn’t like I actually knew the guy, but as a little kid, that was as close to death as I’d come. The association was too much. I mean, now I could play the game, and none of that pain would be there, but back then, I just couldn’t deal with it. I know it’s not the same, but that’s the closest thing I can think of. That’s all.”

  Both George and Miranda looked like they might cry.

  “Thanks, Zed,” was all Miranda could manage.

  George cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m sure a therapist could have a field day with the idea of leaving a planet to avoid painful associations. Not that there was really another option for us.”

  “Oh, is that where we’re headed? I didn’t know you were shipping out today,” Zed said, finally putting two and two together.

  “Yeah, we’re gonna go live with our aunt until we graduate at least. I don’t know her super well, but I think she’s okay,” George said without much enthusiasm. “The title of only kid on Mars is yours once more.”

  George gave a mock bow, his hands outstretched as if to crown Zed.

  Zed knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but the thought hit him with a sickening wave of panic. He pushed it down. He’d face that reality later. Or not at all, ideally.

  The rest of the ride to the launch pad passed in relative silence. When they reached their destination, Zed helped Jonah unload the Ens’ belongings and move them onto the launch ship. Several other people were already busy stowing their own things and prepping for liftoff.

  Zed realized he hadn't actually seen one of the landers up close from the ground before. He'd been unconscious when they brought him out upon arrival at this very pad.

  The vehicle itself was smaller than the rockets that sent things up on Earth. It needed less thrust to reach orbital velocity since it had far less gravity to deal with. This wasn’t the ship they would be taking to Earth; it just needed to get them to The Attic station so they could transfer to the ship that would take them on the long slog home.

  Zed thought about the three of them together the last time he’d been on The Attic. This whole situation was something he could never have imagined. If he had known, he would have never gotten into that lander.

  With their things loaded, there was nothing left for Miranda and George to do but board. Zed stood awkwardly facing the two orphans. George broke the silence first.

  “Good luck, Zed. You got this.”

  George gave Zed a fake-out punch to the gut and shook his hand.

  “Thanks,” Zed said. “You too. I mean, you guys got this too.”

  Miranda swayed forward for just a moment but stopped herself short, opting for a curt nod. Zed saw a bottomless sadness in her eyes as she gave him one last look, then turned and walked without pause to the boarding entrance.

  George, caught off guard by the swift exit, stood there in silence for a moment. With a little final wave, he too made his way toward the ship that would take them off the planet.

  “Ya know, even you could fly that thing to the transfer station,” Jonah said, surprising Zed, who hadn’t seen him walk up.

  “I mean, a pilot always goes up and brings the ship back down just as a precaution, but you could literally take that thing for a joyride to space as is with the level of automation they’ve got packed in there. Well, if you had the launch codes, that is.” Jonah paused. “I mean, don’t do that, but like, it’s kinda crazy that you could, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s crazy.” Zed wasn’t sure what else to say. He just kept staring down the hallway where he’d last seen his friends before they vanished around the corner. Part of him half-expected them to come back. Maybe they’d found a way to stay at the last minute. He knew all those thoughts were ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it.

  Jonah was still standing there, as awkward as ever. He gave Zed what was meant to be a fatherly pat on the back, nearly knocking him over.

  “Sorry about that,” Jonah said, wincing at his own clumsiness. “Look, I see you’re hurtin’. It’s been a rough stretch for you kids. I know it might be looking a bit dark right now, but no season lasts forever, ya know?”

  Zed knew Jonah was just trying to help, but the pity only made him feel worse.

  “Thanks, Jonah. Don’t worry about me. I’m good, but I really need to get back.”

  ***

  On the way back to Naug, Jonah took a little detour. He pulled off the road and made his way over a rough path to the top of a rise overlooking the valley. Below, they could see the man-made exhaust barriers that surrounded each of the launch pads.

  “Ever seen a launch in person before?” Jonah asked. “On this planet, I mean.”

  Zed shook his head.

  “I wasn’t exactly clear-headed last time I was here,” Zed said, pointing to the scar on his head.

  Jonah let out a deep belly laugh at that.

  “Peanut butter M&M?” Jonah asked. He produced a silicone bag with a number of fused blobs that had once been individual candies.

  “Man, Janice wasn't kidding then. You really did use your race win on candy.”

  “Not just any candy. THE candy.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes and watched as the loading tunnel detached and withdrew behind the safety of the barrier wall. The rocket’s three engines ignited, lifting the ship skyward as its landing legs retracted. At that moment, Zed was hit by the first of many panic attacks.

  It was only his stubborn pride that allowed him to hold it together. He didn’t want Jonah to see him cry. But try as he might, a few tears slid unhindered down his cheeks.

  Jonah glanced over. “No shame, man. I shed a tear every time I see a launch too. It’s the only thing that comes close to that feeling you get when watching a sunset.”

  Zed nodded and drew in a slow, ragged breath. He had never experienced such an all-consuming sense of isolation.