It was a large-ish room. A banner with a falcon hung from the wall, and a little podium at the head of the room was packed with microphones. The podium bore the symbol of the GSA, the Gemetria Space Agency. Journalists packed the floor, and fought for the few fold-up chairs. A tall man with disheveled orange hair stood behind the microphones, flanked by a Legate and a 4 Star general. Praetorians were posted at the entrance to the room, and between the mob and the podium. A projector whirred, projecting slides from a little black laptop. Dust motes danced in the projector’s beam.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen of the press. This conference was called to announce an exciting piece of news. For the first time since the ill-fated Chinese and American colonies on Mars, man will again set foot on a foreign world. This meeting will mark the beginning of the Pretas Project: the Gemetria initiative to recolonize Mars. Sadly, fallout from the Colonial Wars on Mars has rendered the planet to be nearly uninhabitable for the past nine years, but now the radiation on the planet to have fallen to near background levels.

“Gemetria will be sending a ten man expedition to New Dallas, located near the northern pole of Mars, and the colony that was furthest away from a nuclear blast. The team will depart in 3 weeks time. Soil toxicology and the effects of radiation on the colony’s life support systems will be of primary concern. Satellite images show the buildings of the colony to be mostly intact. We will be using New Dallas as a base to start construction of a new fusion reactor for Mars, and hopefully start building a series of new colonies and restart the failed American terraforming project. Mars will also act as a staging point for our tentative plans to colonize Jupiter’s moons in fifty years, as a part of the Gemetrian “New Millennial Destiny”.

“The legal status of New Dallas is unknown at this point in time. After the dissolution of the United States, at least eight of the new Republics claimed this colony as their property. Gemetria has negotiated with the Republic of New York, the Republic of Massachusetts, and the Free Peoples of Florida for property rights, as our lawyers have determined that their claim is the most solid. We believe that this gives Gemetria a legal right to call this colony our property now. We are officially renaming this colony to be Nephilima, and annex the territory around it as noted on this map.

“The initial colony is slated to be 1500 Gemetria citizens, and 180 colonial marines. We are expecting a large number of new scientific opportunities, and have also decided to allow up to 100 members of the international community to join this expedition, after the colony is brought up to Gemetrian safety and security standards. We hope to start eight new colonies within ten years of the initial foundation. This is an aggressive build schedule, but we believe that we have the manufacturing base to allow this.

“We hope that this will restart man’s aborted journey to the stars, and usher in a new period of growth and cooperation for our world. As such, Gemetria is hoping that all space capable countries sign the Nephilima Arms Limitation Accord (NALA), which will limit the military presence on Mars. Though this notion is more rigorously defined in the document, it will basically restrict weapons on the surface to be “small arms”, and will be effective for ten years from this date. We hope that this will prevent the horrible barbarism that marred the first colonialization attempts. Gemetria will also assist the colonialization efforts any other nation that we deem to be 'good neighbours'.

“We will now take questions.”

A lean and well-dressed man near the centre of the room catches the speakers eye...

" Michael Campbell, Real News.

Firstly, I believe you omitted to introduce yourself and your minders.

Now to the meat of the matter. From the presence of the General here, the inclusion of colonial marines, and the veiled threats implied by 'Gemetrian Security standards', this is clearly a military operation. Don't you feel that this whole approach with gaining 'ownership' of a ghost town, and 'deciding to allow' a few token foreigners is simply re-exporting the jingoism which doomed the previous expeditions? Surely if you truly wished to promote international peace and co-operation, you would have arranged for this to take place under international auspices from the start. Can you explain to us why you are taking this provocative course of action? "

He sits down again, while his cameraman gets close-ups of the principals.

The man at the podium glanced to the Legate at his side.

"Certainly I will identify myself, I am Dr. Mark Kingston from the GSA, I am one of the Deputy Directors of GSA. To my left is Legate Hans Wilhiem, and to my right is General Vivian Sun. I will direct your other question to Legate Wilhiem."

The Legate cleared his throat.

"Mr. Campbell, I will try to answer your questions, perhaps a little out of order.", He spoke in English, but it was heavily accented. R’s were rolled, and his words were stilted.

"The GSA is one of the four major branches of the State's military, and as such its operations are all military operations. This is not unusual, most nations use military designations for their extra atmospheric crafts. GSA doctrine demands that on all GSA missions, that adequate security measure be taken, and so on all our missions, we have a compliment of GSA marines.

“We understand that the addition of marines and our adherence to terrestrial Gemetrian security policy might seem as a… ka-de phu? Ah yes… It might seem a bit goading to some people in this room. This is not the intension. We think that these are reasonable measures to security and defense. The failing of the last mission was to allow the build up of strategic arms. Sadly, MADD is not as much of a deterrent on Mars as it is on Earth. This is why we are taking steps to ban such arms during the initial colonization period. We believe the restrictions that we have imposed will make offensive conflict impossible, but we are not so naïve as to leave our colony completely undefended. The marines will also fill a paramilitary role, acting as the police, setting up and running hospital facilities, and other such tasks, so their modest deployment is not an indication that we are trying to exert any sort of force on Mars.

“You have questioned our decisions to restrict foreign access to our facility. This is simply because we are footing the bill, so our citizens will make up the bulk of the colonists. This is nothing more than that. When our facilities become fully active, and there isn’t such a premium for space, then the colonies will have the same immigration policies as terrestrial Gemetria. We wish to start colonization anew, but we still wish to do it in the context of our existing terran states, as this will lead to the fewest legal confusion, and jurisdictional chaos. This is also why we have claimed ownership of Nephilima, mostly because we have no wish to engage in length and costly territorial disputes later down the line. I hope that my answers address your concerns.”

Thank you Legate, Dr Kingston.

Let me then, if I may, pose a hypothetical question... If another nation, say, Boreal Tundra or Almonaster La Real were also to send an expedition to the North polar region (which as you remarked is the only area known to be reasonably free of radiation), there would be no objection from Gemetria?

Dr. Kingston leaned over one of the microphones as the Legate stepped back.

"As long as their expeditions respect the borders of any colony that we establish, then Gemetria would have no problems. It would likely even be beneficial, as hopefully the colonies would be able to work together to decontaminate and terraform this new frontier. We would look forward to dealing with our long time allies and friends, Boreal Tundra and Almonaster La Real, if they decided to send Mars missions of their own. I think that I speak for the Tree when I say that Mars is big enough to accommodate a reasonable and controlled colonization attempt by multiple nations. We feel that probably the best way to handle this is to discuss their plans well in advance, such as we are doing now, so that any objections or suggestions can be raised and discussed calmly and openly.”

Boundaries.

* Campbell raises his eyebrows *

Yes, of course.

Now, doctor, when you say 'speak for the tree', that is a statement that regrettably few of my countrymen, even among Real News subscribers would understand. Perhaps you could expand a little on the Tree and its significance for the benefit of a general audience?

The Doctor coughs slightly

"I'm not really an expert in sociology, politics, or religion, so perhaps I'm not the best person to be responding to this. In brief, the Tree is the embodiment of the State, which is held to be holy. The Tree the sum of the State's decision makers, ranging from the human voters, Quaestores, Praetors, etc. to the Servers. If humans were ants, the Tree would be the anthill. Or the brain, if humans were the neurons. It is the aggregation of us. But this is a bad description; some of the concepts I need to use do not have analogous words in your language. It's a tricky concept to master, like the Buddhist's Tao, or the Eyn Sof of Judaism. But I digress, this is a simply a cultural concept of my people, and there are a number of books out about this very subject.

“And to address the issue of boundaries: they exist all around us. We have personal property, our own desk, our own building. These concepts exist here, and it would be incredible to think of what would happen if these boundaries disappeared: people just walking into your home, passing in and out of your bedroom as they please. In short: chaos. Our colony will have borders, just as a building complex on Earth would have. We think that this is a reasonable policy, as we eventually hope to integrate the fledgling Martian colonies with our own countries, and this will be facilitated by having uniform, or close to uniform, property laws. I think that you will find that, with enough population pressure, boundaries will occur. We are just getting a jump start on the process, to avoid needless complication later.”

Dr. Kay Billingsley, from Judith Gap’s Aspen School of Technology, got off of the TH-34 helicopter that touched down on the dusty soil of Gemetria’s badlands. She ducked under the rotors and ran forward in a crouch. She was squinting as the blades wiped up the fine orange dust, and flecks keep on landing in her eyes. A soldier in a black uniform gestured at her, and she ran over to him. Two men in non-descript blue uniforms ran to unload her bags. The man in black tried to yell something at her, but the helicopters engines blocked out all of the sound. The noise increased, and the TH-34 lurched forward, gently wobbling in the air and took off towards the rising sun over the mountains.

“I said, welcome to Gehadrion Base, Dr Billingsley!” he shouted as soon as the sound of the engine faded enough. “Thanks, but call me Kay, Dr. Billingsley was my father,” that was such an old cliché that she didn’t even smile after it. Just something to say, a social nicety that was robbed of any meaning long ago.

“Thank you for joining us! I’m Captain Caius Plura. People call me Cay, so we might be confused…” he smiled. The black uniform was in casual and loose, and was not wearing the heavy body armor that she associated with Gemetria soldiers. Cay moved with a martial grace and poise that made her slightly nervous, almost like each motion he made was a step in some beautiful but deadly dance. His chest was decorated by an elaborate sigil that told the story of his military career, but she lacked the eye to read it. It certainly looked impressive. Gemetrians had two languages, their common script and an older hieroglyphic language, this sigil was a complex construct of the later. It was pretty much abandoned for all but ceremonial purposes. He also wore a blue scarf over his mouth to keep out the dust.

He had close cropped blonde hair, and a scar that ran from one of his eyebrows to his cheekbone, with a course through his shockingly blue eyes. She furrowed her brow as she noticed that the eyes were slightly different shades of blue. She suddenly realized that she was staring, but so did he. His smile fell a little bit, and he looked a little hurt. She decided not to bring it up.

“Not only am I your welcoming committee, but I’m also the lead officer in the flight. I’ll give you a bit of a tour of the base, and then we can sit down, have a spot of lunch, and I can tell you the plan for the next three weeks. That’s when we have the time booked in the mag-launchers. Let me first show you your quarters. They’re east-facing, so you are going to have a hell of a view in the morning. The hoodoos look brilliant in the early morning sun.”

Cay strode through the base pointing out interesting features. “…and these are the stables. We are high in the mountains, you will notice because you are getting a little mountain sick.” She was getting a little dizzy, and she was sort of gasping. “Why… do you…. have such large… stables here?” “It’s simple. The mountain paths are dangerous and thin, certainly too small and treacherous to drive vehicles over. Horses and mules give us additional mobility on the ground, if war ever came. We are one of the few countries that still maintain a traditional cavalry, for defense of these harsh mountains. Our air force is awesome, but you can’t hold ground with planes. We also have forts and tunnels all through this range, and I don’t think that any army could march through here alive.” Caius faintly smiled.

“Come, let me introduce you to the rest of the team!”

***

Capt. Caius Plura, 3rd GSA marine corp, aetheranaut
Lt. Diana Weiker, 4th GSA marine corp, aetheranaut
Lt. Victor Stanley, 4th GSA marine corp, aetheranaut
2nd Lt. Jane Zhao, 3rd GSA marine corp, aetheranaut
Dr. Jenny Geophor, physicist
Dr Mark Duker, cryptographer/mathematician
Dr Tyson Beswick, computer scientist
Dr. James Walter, soil chemist
Dr. Haider Kuppuswamy, microbiologist
Samuel Storm, mechanical engineer
Elizabeth Michaels, electrical engineer

A small man in navy blue and gold livery wandered through Gemetria's Capitol. He was obviously a foreigner, his ceremonial sword bearing a stylized "D", visible as it clinked gently against the under-armour he wore over his back. A tiny badge on his shoulder beared the flag of Defectiveness, its golden helmet gleaming with real gold thread. He carried nothing more than his armour, his robes, his sword, his wits, and a tiny, official letter. He found the citadel that served as the nation's governmental operations and quickly mounted the steps.

He went through dozens of rounds of security checks, and was ultimately forced to wear tight, black, utilitarian uniform of a spandex-like material. Such was the price of Defectiveness' previous foreign policies of isolationism. No one trusted them. Granted, who would trust a military powerhouse whose landscape was dotten with abandoned cities and barren wasteland? Captain James Tiberius of the Old Guard sighed and adjusted the spandex for comfort. Various interns gave his scarred face a reverent look. This was a good nation, he thought to himself. Respect for the military. It would go in his report.

Stepping through a small door he found himself in a long hall with dozens of armed guards. He walked quietly up the middle, his stance tall and proud - the sign of a good officer. He handed the tiny letter to the man sitting there - his official title was unknown to Tiberius - and quickly exited the Hall.

Tiberius did not know it, but the letter contained the following:

To the Honorouble Consuls of Gemetria,

It has come to our attention that Gemetria will be launching an attempt to re-build the failed colonies on Mars. Defectivness' Space Program, though new, is very well funded and very interested in this plan. It is the desire of our government to establish our own colony on the Red Planet, and we feel that the only way for us to do this is by cooperating with your great nation. We realize there is relatively little in this arrangement for you, so we are willing to offer... monetary compensation... to ensure your cooperation in this matter. We hope this is the beginning of a long and prosperous relationship between our two nations.

Sincerely,
Emperor Farrius III
Grand Minister of the Defective Empire

OOC: I Daemon am the Meta-President. The leaders of Gemetria are the Consuls (brother and sister, last name: Varius. They are figureheads). I realize that that could be a bit confusing, I should have made that clearer.

IC:

The senate poured over the letter in the marble halls of the Winter Senate. The letter was scanned in, and the Tree was analyzing the words.

"I say Defectiveness be damned!" Praetor Ypres rose to her feet. "Defectiveness withdrew from the world stage years ago, and I will be damned if they will ride our coat-tails as we are fulfilling our Manifest Destiny! These auslanders offer us nothing..."

“You are too quick to speak Praetor Ypres, and your words are too bold. We need to hear the exact details of the Defectiveness offer. They isolated themselves, but this might signal a renewed interest in world politics. I think that we would be rewarded if we seeking them as friends rather than enemies.” Praetor Mixis chewed carefully on a Brazil nut. “I think that perhaps the first step here would be to offer them some land in Caina to build an embassy, I hope that they will reciprocate and offer us similar building rights in their lands. This at very least will open up the communication channels.” He had his feet casually up on his desk, which was littered with shell fragments.

Praetor Jong stood to speak. Eight months ago, Legate Grimson (he was then still a Praetor) helped him hush up a scandal involving an under aged male servant. “I would like to echo Praetor Mixis’ wise words. Long term diplomatic, economic, and military relations with Defectiveness could benefit both our countries. Our peoples are not so dissimilar, and I think that our goals are in line. I say that we need to listen to their offer. I think that an act of kindness here could be in our long term interests. I agree that embassies should be traded, and we should organize a diplomatic mission to discuss these terms in detail.” The Quaestores burst into cries of “Hear hear!”

Mixis smiled. He could tell that this bill would be easily passed. Praetor Ypres was just trying to step up her rhetoric as she was facing an election. The next day the Kether System would construct their reply, and dispatch a messenger. As long as the offer was right, he hoped that Gemetria could gain a new ally. This would be welcome news, as MrPopo’s increasing irrationality could signal the start of a dangerous new phase of the Gemetrian-MrPopo Cold War. He picked a piece of shell from his teeth, and mentally dialed Grimson’s number. The Legate would like to here about this.

Emperor Farrius read over the official dispatch. The soft yellow glow of the lights in his office signalled that it was daylight, topside. Farrius did not like daylight. Perhaps it was his albino condition, perhaps it was his years of living below-ground. He did not know, but found the soft yellow to be comforting.

The dispatch was carefully worded, as would be obvious to any but a simpleton. He turned individually to intelligence briefs on the nation of Gemetria, and of the personal report by Captain Tiberius. The intelligence briefs were limited - Gemetria was a secretive nation, perhaps almost as much so as Defectiveness. The report by Tiberius was glowing, however. It spoke of armed guards patrolling the city, a respect for the military like that which had been bred into the peoples of Defectiveness, and security to put his own to shame.

It took no thought to accept the offer of an Embassy to Gemetria - it was logical, and an excellent first step in throwing off the shadow of isolationism that his family had so firmly held over the nation. However, there was the issue of how to handle a Gemetrian Embassy in Defectiveness. Land ownership did not exist, simply ownership of quadrants of the Spires within the nation's cities. Land above-ground was leased to tenant farmers for cheap. Isolationism is a hard policy to keep up, after all. Most of Spire 342, Gamma Quadrant was unused. But it was far from the Governmental Cluster of Defective Prime. He made a note to clear room in Spire 3, Alpha Quadrant for a Gemetrian Envoy. He then dispatched another message, again to be carried by Tiberius, detailing information of the Embassy Exchange, as well as entry papers for up to twenty people (more than had been allowed to enter in the past fity years). A further extension was added on how to contact the Minister directly on a secure communications frequency for further discussion of the Mars missions, which Defectiveness was still very much interested in.

“…Check page 97 complete, please confirm Gevurah.” Cay flipped his wire bound notebook to the last page and started the checks for page 98. It had taken two hours so far. This time was wasted anyhow, as the massive capacitors underground Mount Durret ( formerly called Mount Damavand), were still charging for the last launch. “Page 98 automatic testing: fuel subsystems… start.” He sat back and watched the test run. The computer rapidly tore through the 13,000 odd test on this, the ultimate test bucket in the testing suite. Caius was listening to some music on his portable music player, some high energy electronic music from the Oriculuum Hive.

Caius was sitting on the lip of the platform that overlooked the GSS Corith, an Hibernia class space shuttle. It looked vaguely like a throwing dart, with four fins and a thin fuselage. The fins were attached to the tracks of the Mount Durret Accelerator, a massive 9.7 Km (non-linear) electromagnetic accelerator. This was a great system to eliminate much of the costly disposable chemical fuel tanks booster that were standard in past shuttle systems, but you didn’t want to wear a pacemaker, or anything else magnetic, during the flight. The pulsed magnetic fields were so strong that they caused discomfort to the passengers.

They were at the base of the tube, where the capacitors and fusion generators lay. The last dart that went up took the last of the supplies, and the next two darts would carry the team members up to the GSS Aum, which, due to size and weight considerations, was built in orbit. The rear of the ship was dominated by an ion drive that just didn’t produce enough force to be useful for atmospheric flight, but was incredibly fuel efficient and comparatively small to other propulsion solutions. This was a plus, because it would need to run for 2 months. Cay noticed that a sizable amount of atropine sulfate solution auto injectors were present in the manifest for the last dart. That concerned him. That meant that the brass was worried about G or V series chemicals in New Dallas. Seems like things really got out of control over there, and the public just hear about the tip of the iceberg.

The computer interrupted his music stream to tell him that the tests finished; good to go. They still had twenty-five minutes before launch, but it was time to get settled into the dart and get the crew to plug into the anti-G systems. They would be pulling about 10Gs all the way up the tunnel, and they needed some serious compensation in order to not conk out. It really wasn’t as important to remain conscious as in fighters, as the flight was predetermined and automatically followed, but it just weren’t all that pleasant.

The team was waiting near by the dart, and so they quickly got settled in, and connected the various hoses on their suits to the hydraulic systems. Caius and the other marines made sure that they had their swords with them. In a space ship, the last thing that you wanted was a gun. A bullet in the wrong place meant absolute disaster. Even though the exterior of the GSS Aum was titanium and the chances of a hull breach were remote, there was a lot of mission critical systems that a bullet could damage. Besides, the recoil forces from a gun were hard to manage in space. A shotgun with fléchettes and small caliber handguns were also used, but you needed to have your feet anchored if you didn’t want to spin out of control into an instrument panel after each shot. The art of shooting in zero gravity was a skill that all GSA marines had. A sword was preferred by the marines as a weapon in space combat, and the art of sword fighting in zero gravity was also practiced by the GSA marines. Besides, there was a kind of Romantic sensibility to sword fighting, and you usually didn’t join the GSA if you lacked a Romantic soul.

There was no windshield to the dart, human viewing was not considered a priority for the Hibernia shuttles, so Caius and the 5 other people in the dart with him closed their eyes, and sucked on hard candies. The acceleration and pressure change were both bitches. The final count down started. “…Pëntra… Qusha… Trô… Dua… Mô… Igniso!” The initial kinetic spring pushed the Corith into motion, and quickly the electric current in the rails took over, and the feeling was akin to every inch of your body being punched. What seemed to be a lifetime later (in reality, only 14 seconds), the GSS Corith shot out of the tube at Mach 2 and the chemical assist stepped in. They were finally able to breathe again.

Next stop: New Dallas, Mars.

The newly appointed Ambassador Anaximander, of from the Ul-Thales Hive, patiently watched as his personal assistant served tea in white China cups to the official from Defectiveness. The Gemetrians took tea very seriously, and while not quite as ceremonial and rigid as the Japanese, they almost always made a bit of a show of the process. He noticed, with his peripheral vision, that the Defectiveness official was watching him the entire time with unblinking eyes. He clearly was eager to get down to business, and Anaximander delighted in the prospect of keeping him waiting and anxious.

“I read over the Defectiveness proposal, Captain Cleanthes. The Tree, for the most part, is in agreement with the terms. We are willing to assist the Emperor and the people of Defectiveness establish a colony at New Tianjin, which is here in the Northern Hemisphere. It will be east of the unofficially proposed Gemetrian colonies here, here, here and here in the Tharsis Montes,” the Ambassador pointed at places on a map on the table, his fingers landed in the triangle formed by Olympus, Arsia, and Ascreus Mons. “We are planning to connect our colonies by extending the Chinese shortline railway system that they used to move ore from Pavonis Mons to their colony here, Jianzhouhan. This colony was destroyed by three 10MT warheads, and will not be of any use to us. Jianzhouhan was said to be the site of a particularly interesting bio-weapons facility, and so I think that we can thank to formerly United States of America for their zealous solution to this problem.” The Ambassador started carefully buttering a scone, “The Tree agrees in principle to the proposed rates to use our infrastructure, we also agree to assist your country develop indigenous solutions to the transportation question… we should set a day and a time to sit down and hammer out a more formal agreement, but I think that we have a very good framework for an agreement, here.”

“The Tree hopes that this will be the start of many fruitful agreements between our peoples. We are glad to be dealing with a nation that seems to have similar vision and ambition in the region. Hopefully our great powers can work together to mold the future to be a mutually beneficial one...” Both the Ambassador and the Captain smiled thinly.

The Emperor carefully scanned the map of Mars. Various points were high-lighted, lines connecting them, with both the governmental language of Gemetria and the court language of Defective scrawled across it.

"Is it good?" he asked his aides. He already knew it was, but the aides were Counts and Countesses from across the land, and such was a traditional part of the decision making process of Defectiveness - just as the assembled officials having no true power was a traditional part of the decision making process.

Lord Xavier Lixander, of the city of Férien, spoke up. "Why do you trust these Gemetrians, m'lord? Why do we trust anyone? The system of isolationism that we have maintained for centuries has never done us wrong, and now you dare to go against your ancestors - the great House of Farrius - and betray us to the world outside!?"

"Do you not trust my judgement, House Lixander?"

Silence.

"Because it sounds as if you do not trust my judgement."

"It's not that, sir! I simply question that we can trust these Gemetrians!"

"The Gemetrians are a people of their word. Just as we are. House Lixander, you were always among my family's closest allies in the days of the Lords - and now you see me as an enemy. One who is undeserving of the House of Farrius."

Silence.

"This meeting is adjourned." Emperor Farrius waved his hand, and guards entered to remove the aides from the room. Gemetria was a powerful nation, and Farrius knew it. Defectiveness was far from weak, of course, but powerful friends were better than powerful enemies. He smiled, and leaned back in his chair to look out the window over the massive spires, in the unnatural subterranean darkness.

“C’Termïx ra auxignoûreactox het jui’sui” the sweet voice of the computer announced as the GSS Aum slide silently in to orbit around Mars. The forward engines kicked in, making final corrections to the trajectory of the massive ship.

“There, the last waypoint on this leg of the flight,” Lt. Zhao carefully noted as started manually checking the navigation computer’s results with her own calculations. “We should start assembling the ground team as soon as we can double-check the landers.” There should ideally be nothing wrong with them as they were thoroughly examined before and after they were loaded onto the Aum, but after 73 days of space flight, stranger things than a fried circuit board or a corrupt bio-gel module could happen.

“Agreed. Let’s let the Tree do her thing. The CommArray is active... Weiker, get Beswick and attend to the it's needs.” Caius was looking at the display from one of the exterior cameras as the tendrils of the CommArray sinuously deployed from their holding cells. He calmly wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. The synching procedure would take a little time.

The rest of the team anxiously collected whatever equipment they needed for the surface. Tempers had been running high and patience low over the past couple of months. The cramped conditions, close proximity, and sheer boredom had certainly taken their tolls. Only Captain Plura seemed relatively unaffected by the flight, even though he was a little less icy than usual.

Lt. Weiker and Dr. Beswick both worked together looking over the data pouring in from the Array. The handshaking period seemed to take forever. Not only was there the massive latency period between Mars and Earth, but also the code that was used to communicate was especially redundant due to how noisy communication was over space. This, added to the usual Gemetrian obsession with encryption guaranteed that they would be waiting for a while.

After about 4 hours, the synch completed, and the diagnostics finished running. The first ground team was assembled, and the Xelri-class orbital-lander feel into a low-atmosphere descent. The Aum chattered back to the Tree. Things were well within expected deviations from the plan.

Time to claim what is rightfully ours.

Wind swirled around the Xelri lander’s legs, stirring the red dust into strange little eddy patterns. Lt. Zhao ran clumsily from the lander’s ramp to a large rock that she crouched behind. The unfamiliar gravity and the loosely packed dust made her unsure in her footing. From behind the rock she quickly surveyed the situation, with her R25 at her shoulder, ready to dispense death to any takers. Her PASGT-56M armor (modified for Martian condition) whined as she shifted her stance. The scabbard of her saber traced a line in the soil.

“All clear,” Zhao announced. Lt. Weiker walked down the steps with a PH789X gun at her hip. Behind her walked Dr. Walter and Mr Storm. Both had DAE15A2 SMGs slung over their shoulders and were carrying heavy (by Terrestrial weight) cases of equipment. Lt. Stanley took up the rear. He had a R25 over one shoulder, and a missile launcher (PH13) strapped to his back. He also dragged two chests behind him packed with battlefield sensor systems. Lt. Stanley quickly started setting up the sensors around the LZ. He was going to stay with the Xelri with Dr. Geophor and Miss. Michaels until the Gemetrian satellites were deployed from the GSS Aum and the LZ and surrounding area could be confirmed.

Lt Weiker, Lt. Zhao, Dr. Walter, and Mr. Storm started their long walk through the red desert to the former American Empire’s base fifty miles north of New Dallas. Their shadows stretched out far ahead of them. The sun looked weak and swollen in this desolate rusting wasteland. It was a fading sun, not the bright fierce sun of the earth. It barely clung to the sky; fatigued and tired.

As the team walked further and further away from the lander, the alien nature of this world struck them. They arrived on this ancient planet with sublunary arrogance, and with each step this was stripped from them, until they were left naked and numb, steeped in the vast landscape. The red dust washed them free of their egos. They became lost in the epic desolation of this world, driven forward only by the equally inhuman will of the Tree.

The Xelri did not land any closer to the colony or base because the Tree was concerned that some AA defenses were still active. The Martian atmosphere had some oxygen, and the team had compressors for extracting oxygen from the thin air. The intake tubes to the compressors were heavily filtered, limiting the effectiveness of the compressor. Even though tests done back at the LZ showed no presence of any known chemical agents, the biological tests would take longer to perform and no one wanted to take any chances. For now they would have to count on the minute amount of new oxygen, and the effectiveness of their rebreathing gear.

The trek to the base took an hour and change. After asserting that there was no automated weaponry, the Gemetrian team penetrated the base perimeter. There was an eerie calm as they walked past row upon row of American vehicles, and the sealed barrack buildings. Each of them was connected by a series of underground tunnels. They stopped at a door built into a large rock formation.

“This is it, this is the entry point to the tunnel complex,” announced Lt. Weiker breathlessly. “Lt. Zhao, I need the entry card,” While Lt. Weiker had the override code memorized in case of emergency, Gemetria had purchased from the Republic of New York the specifications and codes to make the proper keycards. The card was a thin piece of red plastic with a complicated set of black markings along one edge. There wasn't enough of an atmosphere here to protected magnetic strips from the harsh cosmic rays that beat down on Mars. Diana opened the metal covering for the keypad and swiped the card. There was a click, barely audible in the thin air, and she opened the door and switched on her wristlight.

“Captain Plura, we have entered the base…”

On a platform of undisclosed location within Central Defectiveness, Emperor Farrius stood with several high ranking military officials. His hat was large-brimmed, protecting his pink eyes from the harsh rays of the sun. His clothing was deep blue and gold, medals hanging from his chest - the medals were earned, during the Emperor's ten years of military service beginning at age 15. However, in a nation where isolationism had been the rule of thumb for several centuries, medals were primarily given out to those who were best able to defeat their peers in tests of combat. Fencing was a favorite of the Emperor's.

"Is the rocket ready for launch?" he snapped to one of his space agency's top scientists, both an aeronautical engineer and physicist.
"Well, sir, it's not exactly a rocket, per se, more of a - " he stuttered, trying to convey the idea of a liquid oxygen booster lifting a 10-man vessel into high orbit, where an ion drive would carry the vessel over the 9 month trip to Mars (1/2 the time it used to take American vessels to reach the red planet).
"The details are important only to you and to your agency, Mr. Braun. To me, the big picture is what is important here. Is it ready for launch?" said the Emperor, gesturing vaguely to the massive vehicle set upon a seemingly fragile launch pad, surrounded by fields of grains.
"... yes, sir. It is. Launch in three minutes, sir." replied the scientist, after a short debate with himself to continue the line of discussion, or merely answer the question and be glad the government was paying his bills.
Emperor Farrius nodded to the cockpit, though its shudders were closed in preparation for launch.

Jane Zhao led the team through the cavernous tunnel that lead from the satellite base to the New Dallas colony proper. The tunnel was the tube in which a train ran, bringing supplies and resources to and from the base. The roof of the tube arched over their heads, like the ceiling of some giant’s sepulchre. They found the massive train-engine at the outpost, dead. It was partially loaded with weapons and food stuffs. They seemed to be in the middle of a cargo run when the fusion generator died. The team jumped between the rails and descended down the gently-sloped concrete tube. The blackness gapped at them, unperturbed by their feeble portable-lights.

Jane’s boots sloshed through the viscous sludge that lay at the bottom of the tube, between the tracks. The squeeze light slung under her R25 cast dramatic as it danced over the rotting sides of the tunnel. Green algae and molds coated the sides. Occasionally, they would pass a patch of unknown mushrooms, bursting open like some cancerous and profane bloom. They seemed a bizarre mockery of flowers, even with the conceit to peddle their spores as pollen.

Pipes, emerging from the concrete walls, dribbled foul liquids that ran down the wall to mingle with the main fetid flow. Every so often, little chunks of biomass fell off of the tunnel’s apogee and splashed in the mephitic slime at the perigee. The slime was warm with abominable life, and noisome bubbles crept through the ooze. The gasses of decomposition must have fuel the rarified slimes that gnawed at the ceiling. It seemed a disgusting and cyclical ecosystem. Life didn’t seem to want to give up that easily. Jane was thankful that the filters on her breathing gear was heavily filtered, she had a no inclinations to inhale the fetid odours that this tunnel assuredly produced.

The New Dallas colony had a self-contained ecosystem, once. Though clearly “self-contained” took on a new meaning once the colonists died. Jane briefly wondered how the colonist died, whether it was asphyxiation, starvation, disease, or just good old fashion violence. At any rate, with out maintenance, the previously well-groomed plants and animals of the New Dallas biorooms erupted and spread through-out the station. They were behind the blast doors, so only flora and fauna that could travel through the pipes would be found here. Though she supposed that it was equally possible that the doors were open and the large lifeforms just couldn’t survive here. She would have expected more than just human skeletons submerged in the ooze in that case, however.

Jane was a career soldier. The State bought her from unknown parents at a young age, and shipped her to Cania for training and education. One might expect her to feel regret and never knowing those that begat her, but Gemetria had forgotten the family. Only the very wealthy could ever hope to keep their children, and only the heads of the Great Companies and Senators could hope to have dynasties. She was a citizen, but only a plebian. She was different order of being from the decadent power- mongers that ruled from the black spires. Her life was one of duty, of will. She was an avatar of the State’s fist. She was all violence and cool rage.

Her body and mind were forged in the Cania School of War. Her willpower and ruthless efficiency propelled her through the ranks until she was honoured as the Imaginifer of her maniple during the landing at Beach 3456 in the Battle of Guam. She got her field promotion to 2nd lieutenant a pitched battle with a splinter group of American Marines from the Collation of United Pacific States who lay in wait just over one of the ridges. The fighting was fierce- Angels flew over their shoulders dropping VX gas canisters fuel-air explosives- and Gemetrian Battleships pounded the shores with HE shells. When the fighting died down, only seventeen of her squad of eighty were still able to stand, and she was the most senior soldier. When she returned to the Motherland, the State enrolled her in the Officer’s Academy at Dis, where she got the chance to transfer into the GSA. It was a timely transfer, considering the timeline of the Praetas Project.

The rest of the team swiftly followed behind her. The civies were in surprisingly good shape- she was originally worried that they would seriously impede progress. They only had around eight more miles, and they’d reach the blast doors of New Dallas.

The barren wastes of Mars came quickly upon the underside of the tiny pod - 10 people sat strapped within the cone-shaped vessel, quaking slightly as it alighted upon a tiny landing pad some ten kilometres from the main aspect of their new home.

It took some minutes for the ten to be fully suited, packed, and ready to disembark. Weapons were slung from their shoulders - assault rifles, mainly - though the bulky suits they wore were a major disadvantage to their mobility. However, initial scans of the atmosphere and reports of the status of the abandoned colony showed that any resistance would be forced into a similar position as themselves.

The main access port to their new colony - New Tianjin - was small, cramped, and filled with the most fetid air the ten had ever encountered. Less than 3% oxygen - the oxygen tanks on their backs would need to enrich the flitered air. At estimated rate of consumption, they had enough for 16 hours. Ten kilometres in the heavy suits would take them roughly three hours... it was the matter of returning New Tianjin to working order within their time limit that worried the group.

And so, with a final glance to their tiny craft, they struck out into the darkness.

***

Twelve hours after having left their debarkation location, minimal life support and minimal main power had been restored. A fusion generator had been assembled from the piles of material that they had brought with them, and hopefully a small amount of helium-3 could be quickly produced to supply the generator. Even now, small amounts of magnesium were gathering within a secondary chamber of the generator.

The ten now set about clearing bodies (mostly ejecting them into the martian atmosphere), and attempting to establish some level of basic cleanliness. Disease was a very real danger, now, and all steps would have to be taken to avoid it.

Corena Lin drew a small sample of water from the number 11 catfish tank and carried it over to her chemistry bench. Number 11 had been showing elevated levels of ammonia earlier this week (it was a pretty new tank set-up), but she reduced their feeding and neutralized the water, even though the catfish didn’t mind the normal high pH. The bacteria population was starting to catch up, and she figured that the tank would become mature in around another week. She could start ramping up the tank’s stock then.

It would be nice to be able to start eating fish again. The Gemetrian diet was traditionally heavy in seafood, as their civilization started from tribes of fishermen and sea traders. After about the 1890s, Gemetria’s waters became increasingly polluted, with heavy industries exploited Gemetria's lax dumping laws. By the 1950s, Gemetria’s waters were completely dead, save for algae and bacteria blooms. Gemetrian farming found itself in a similar situation by the 1930s. Gemetrian farmers raped their land for generations, and the once fertile soils became nutrient-depleted and salinized. Pollution also played it’s role.

The area surrounding Dis was a prime example of the corruption of the environment. There were once farming communities feeding Dis there but now they are long abandoned. The area has turned into a polluted and steaming swamp, slick with oil wastes and heavy metal sludge. About twice a year, the oil film on the top of the swamp catches fire, and the people unsheltered ghettos of Dis have to breath in smoke that is even more toxic than their usual bad air. Black acid rains have become quite common around Dis. Though some good days when the wind picks up, Dis has the most spectacular sunsets, most of the year Dis is pitch black.

This has lead Gemetria to alternate methods of food production. The leading and cheapest form of food in Gemetria is scum. Scum is of course not the name that the food industry uses, but is the colloquial name. Scum is a slurry of algae, yeasts, and bacteria growths that are generally either packed into cakes or other shapes. Artificial flavours and different ratios of microbes are used to affect the taste, and each company has their own breeds of bacteria.

Gemetrians are especially fond of scum noodles, and some of the better brands are almost indistinguishable from wheat noodles flavour-wise, though they are mushier in texture. The microbes are grown in vast tanks in sterilized rooms of the Hives. Treated human waste, including processed (“blended” is more accurate) human remains, is a large component of the nutrients that microbes grow on, but also the vat rooms are an important area for carbon dioxide, methane, and nitrogen recycling. The vat rooms are as important for the Hive’s oxygen supply as they are for its food supply.

Scum also forms the basis for the rest of the Hive argo-economy. Varieties of scum are used for food sources for Gemetrian aquaculture. Aquaculture focuses mostly on catfish, tilapia, and prawns, and has become quite efficient. While mainland Gemetria is becoming closer and closer to self-sufficiency, most of Gemetria’s foodstuff still comes from Her colonies, especially from Iran. Iran supplies much of Gemetria’s rice, wheat, and nuts (pistachios being a particular favorite in Gemetria). Most of Gemetria’s lamb and beef is grown in Iran too. However, meat from large animals is a relatively small part of the Gemetrian diet. Mammal meat usually comes from large rodents, such as rabbits or guinea pigs. Roasted dormice stuffed with a spiced (mostly cumin) mixture of raisins, cracked wheat, and ground almonds is a particular delicacy (called glis a gondilesia, “Dormice in the Gondilesian style” after the Gemetrian province of Gondilesia)

Ironically, while mainland Gemetria is one of the most polluted regions in the world, Gemetrian scientific advisors have ensured that the colonies are using sustainable agricultural practices. The Gemetrian government decided that they didn’t want to repeat past mistakes, so there are strict standards in the colonies for avoiding soil erosion, salinization, and nutrient leaking. Gemetria is particularly advanced in silviculture, and the fruit orchards in the Gemetrian Congo exemplify sustainable agriculture.

But it was the Hive pseudo-biosphere technology that made it possible for Gemetrians to consider recolonizing Mars. The models of waste recycling and resource utilization that worked for the Hives worked, with a little tweaking, for the Martian Colonies. Of course, the system was not 100% sustainable, and still required imports from Earth, but they were a far cry from the inefficient American and Chinese colonies that nearly bankrupted the two countries.

Gemetria now had a working colony, and 3 more that were being repaired. Astarotia was the main colony and now contained 49 people. The colonies being reparied were formerly Chinese colonies in the Tharsis Montes: Bune (formerly Jianzhouhan), Ipos (formerly Boading) and Phenex (formerly Hunxiamen). The abandoned mining operations near Bune were being restarted, and large yields of iron and aluminum ores were expected. Some sphene was found, meaning that Bune could very soon be producing titanium, cesium, and yttrium as well. However, more fusion generators needed to be set up, which meant that they would need more lithium shipped from earth. Gemetrian geologists were still trying to locate practical deposits of lithium.

But for now, the main concern was maintaining the biospheres in their existing colony, and setting up the new colonies. Corena was asked for fairly large sample of water to form the bacterial core of the new tanks being set up in the other three. It was hoped that Astarotia would hold 200 people by the end of the year, and the damaged Chinese colonies would be up to Gemetrian standards by then. There were also plans to fix the railway in between the Chinese colonies, and to construct a new railway from Astarotia to the Northern most Chinese colony of Bune. Some people also wanted to build a railway to the Defectivenessian colony to the east of Ipos, but Corena was somewhat skeptical that their governments would agree to something like that.

The sounds of a small repair crew working ceaselessly in the upper ducts became almost a rhythm, as twenty new colonists sat in isolation and disinfection chambers, awaiting their time to enter the fledgeling new colony that had become known as Heimdall.

The twenty new men (the colony now represented a 3:1 male to female population ratio) would serve the backbone of the colony's new labour pool. Fifteen would begin work in pre-built mines deep beneath the surface, sinking exploratory shafts to evaluate the possibility of further utilisation of metallic resources. The other five would become Mars' first farmers, attempting to cultivate hardy plants in sheltered places close to the colony. The plants themselves would serve very little purpose to the colonists themselves, though the terraforming of a planet always began with small steps.

The desire for deeper integration with the Gemetrian colonies (primarily on account of Gemetrian technological advances in the area of food-stuffs) was palpable in the small colony, and the request had been petitioned to the Emperor for consideration. One hundred people now called the colony home, and Defective horticultural technologies simply were not advanced enough to support a larger population.