Beneath the Red Sand

19 || Chapter Nineteen

"Remind me to dine at the Olympus Lounge more often," I say when the apartment door slides open. Sure, our meal had consisted of the same plain fare everyone else eats, roast chicken, baked potatoes, and garden vegetables, but the way the servers presented it on linen-covered tables and fancy garnished plates, complete with a live string quartet providing background music, all created a fantastic low-key vibe. It was heaven.

Our waiter mentioned that the place was booked solid for weeks after tonight, though, so a repeat experience won't happen anytime soon. Word has spread about this hidden gem.

The walk back from dinner had been beautiful. In the glow of intimate yellow-gold evening lighting emanating from the ceilings and strips along each hallway at waist height, I'd taken the opportunity to admire the new artwork adorning each corridor we passed. One hallway had a water theme, with framed oceanic Martian scenes depicting a past or imagined future of a world teeming with marine life. One section of the wall housed a stunning waterfall feature of vivid red and cream granite from floor to ceiling. Water flowed as smooth as glass from a hydrosynthesizer down into a long, narrow koi fish pond. Another corridor held a partially finished forest-themed mural, as if the residents of this wing had begun working together to create a vision of exotic flora and fauna the red planet will nurture once terraforming is complete. Yet another corridor housed perfumed flowerbeds beneath grow lights, an exquisite collection of sculptures, and a photography exhibit of Earth's finest gardens.

Not tired yet, I claim the laptop and head straight for my room to research the symbols I've sketched based on the ones my team discovered on pottery fragments and the simulated cave wall.

One symbol appears to show a Mars full of vibrant life, complete with blue oceans, red-green forests, and fields of flowers in every hue imaginable. Another symbol depicts a dying red planet sterilized by radiation, surrounded by short bold lines that look as though they might indicate an escaping atmosphere. A picture of Mars' history, then? Next to this one, a symbol of what could be spaceships fleeing this dead world in search of another home. A symbol of a dead Mars inside the belly of a goddess-like figure of fiery red hair framing an insectoid face above tall, stick-thin limbs. This symbol had been shrouded by green mist on the cave wall, but I can't be certain whether from actual pigment or the lingering presence of the spirit herself. A final symbol conveys life returning to Mars. Below ships hovering in space, half of Mars had been painted red, the other half a bright blue-green. Had ancient Martians conceived of us humans arriving on their planet, now, to restore their world?

I upload my symbols onto the laptop to see if a symbology database can help me uncover any other hidden meanings beyond the obvious, but as soon as I do so, green mist fills the screen. I gasp and push my chair back, eyes wide, when that all-too-familiar diamond inside a triangle flashes several times. One by one, the symbols disappear, leaving the computer dead.

"No!" Frantically, I tap the keyboard, the screen, anything to jolt it from its slumber. "What did I do?"

Then, the computer flickers back to life, and I have just enough time to access the messenger utility, type a hasty message to Jacqui, and hit send.

SOS! My laptop is on the fritz!

I glimpse Jacqui's answering promise to render aid before all the competing text freezes. The network icon in the bottom right corner blinks green, letting me know that Jacqui has connected. As soon as the files I'd lifted from Colonel James' office pop onscreen and proceed to erase themselves line by line, a dialogue box filled with code appears as Jacqui types at warp speed to salvage them. A furious battle begins between her and the unknown hacker. A few heart-stopping minutes pass as I stare at the screen, unable to move or look away. In that time, we lose two documents, the requisition list and James' notes on suspected alien activity, but Jacqui soon wins the fight. The pace of disappearing file text slows, then stops. The remaining files close, leaving only the message utility open.

Man, that was insane, Jacqui types. I can picture her leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh after all her exertion. I'm sorry we lost those two files. That hacker, whoever he is, has mad skills. At least he shouldn't be able to mess with you again. I doubt he can crack the firewall I've installed on your system.

Thank you! We didn't lose them, though, right? You still have a copy of all the files, I type back.

I do. Turns out keeping a spare was a brilliant idea on your part. It's somewhere safe.

You're the best!

Closing the laptop, I pad over to my bedroom door. My throat is parched, but all thoughts of pouring a glass of water from the kitchen sink shatter when Dad stares up at me from over his laptop at the dining room table. His intense gaze and stern frown remind me that tomorrow's excavation out in Mars' inhospitable territory will come early, and I'll need a good night's rest to be ready for it. I take the hint.

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Author's Note: As always, I am so, so grateful to everyone who is reading, commenting, voting, and sharing. It means so much to be able to share this story with you all, and I'm thrilled you're enjoying it! Hope you like this latest chapter!