Far above the Martian surface, in a small transport shuttle descending from the orbital travel hub, Nova sits tense in a cramped seat. The memory of their most recent death and traumatic resurrection, and the loss of Orion, is still fresh and stinging. Back on Earth, November the Miracle Child is officially dead, under such mysterious circumstances that numerous incorrect conspiracy theories have popped up immediately, with Mr. and Mrs. Adams leading the frenzy. For their part, Nova finds the whole planet too stressful at this point, and wonders if they should be ashamed of the relief they feel upon leaving.
It wasn’t as easy as just wishing to be on Mars. Teleportation can only link Nova to places already visited at a previous time, so having never been to Mars meant the farthest that trick could get them was the travel station on Luna. So the first thing they did was spend a solid four hours hiding in some bushes, panicking and crying. Once night fell, they gathered some courage and retrieved a few personal and useful items from the rubble of the house, putting them in a dusty backpack found in what used to be Gavin’s closet.
Then they teleported back to the bench in the park for one last visit. It felt wrong at night, like visiting the grave of a recently deceased friend for the first time. Crickets chirped in place of birds, and the breeze in the trees seemed more ominous than playful. The biggest difference was the human silence, the absence of footsteps and voices and distant vehicles. The lack of old men to scowl disapprovingly, or little children to marvel at an occasionally naked genderless misfit.
Nova said goodbye to Earth then, hoping to return someday but afraid it would never be the same. The park was artificially sustained; the natural ecosystems it emulated were rare and fragile, separated by vast expanses of deserts and dry grasslands. Humanity solved every problem they caused by simply building a bubble to insulate themselves from it, but they were losing ground. Entropy was catching up. More and more of them chose to move on, rather than stay and fight.
After a long stare at the pale face of Luna and her faintly visible network of human-made structures, Nova focused on memories of the travel terminal on the moon. The sudden change in gravity caused a jolt of queasiness, but otherwise it was just like teleporting between two locations on Earth. Cool fresh air gave way to a warm stale atmosphere in an instant. A bit dazed, and frequently testing their reduced weight on tiptoe, Nova found a payment kiosk and bought transport to Mars.
So now they’re here, falling out of the sky into an even more hostile world. The temptation to abort mission and return home is strong, but not enough to overcome a lifetime of trauma and neglect. If a new life is possible in a universe without Orion, then Nova intends to find it. Either that or a merciful end plunging into a star. Nova has thought about this to an unhealthy extent since childhood; their apparent immortality must have sensical limitations, and therefore viable methods of suicide must exist. Flinging their body into an eternal nuclear explosion seems like one of the likeliest options. For Nova this is comforting, but others tend to find it morbidly unsettling so they keep it private.
The shuttle docks with the ground station, and the passengers disembark one by one, funneling through a checkpoint where their ID is scanned. Anxiety warns Nova of unspecified consequences from using the identification of a legally dead person, but if that information has come through, it doesn’t matter to this scanner, and they’re admitted with no more acknowledgement than a curt “Welcome to Mars” and gesture of a gloved hand toward the exit. Earth passports are highly valued for a reason, apparently.
In the main dome of the station, digital billboards flash everywhere with advertisements for hotels, casinos, tours, and other destinations for rich travelers from Earth. The human mass is even louder, filling every crack of reality with suffocating layers of sound. Nova holds their hands over their ears but can still feel the noise in their body. They wince at every shout, every screaming child, every blaring advertisement. It feels just as chaotic as being in an imploding house.
With a sharp pain developing in their chest, Nova dodges through crowds, trying to search the visual chaos for signs of a taxi service. Everything hits the eye sharp and painful, but blurs together in their mind.
“Hey, kid, you need a pressure suit?”
Nova turns around to see a man with a big gray beard smiling at them across racks of helmetless space suits. “Me?”
“Yeah, you from Earth ain’t you?”
“I am. London.”
“I’s born in Florida. Welcome to Mars!”
“Thank you.”
“Now a pressure suit on Mars is your most unoptional piece of gear, you got one somewhere in that little bag?”
“No.”
“Then you’re right where you should be! I got all sizes for all budgets and a free carrying case included. We got comm systems, infotainment, integrated weapon holsters, active camo and customizable color, whatever you need.”
Nova nods and starts looking through the nearest rack.
“Oh that side is for men, the women’s suits are over here.”
Nova grabs the smallest size and tosses it on the counter. They fix beard-man from Florida with a glare as they remove the entire stack of Earth money from their bag and start counting.
He clears his throat and puts on a smile. “Ok, your choice. Don’t forget to pick out a helmet.”
“Just give me something basic.”
He produces a simple clear helmet with a secondary sunblocking visor from under the counter. “All right then, that will be two hundred.”
Nova hands over the cash, and then waits silently while he shows them how to pack the suit into its carrying case.
“Anything else I can help you with?” he asks.
“I need to find a taxi.”
“Sure, transport companies have offices over yonder, just go til you reach the edge of the dome.”
“Thanks.”
Nova finally finds the booth for taxi services and discovers it will be another hundred to take the cheapest shuttle to their destination. That only leaves about three hundred for any future costs, which isn’t much on Mars. They pay it anyway, and suit up before following a line of other passengers through a large airlock, twelve at a time.
When they step out, in near silence, Nova stares up at the hazy sky and the small, cold sun. Through the helmet’s protective visor it appears dim and deep orange. Someone bumps into them and both apologize to the other and hurry into the shuttle to find their seats, which happen to be side by side. The door shuts behind the last passenger and the shuttle pressurizes as they strap in. A robotic voice announces it is safe to remove their helmets.
“Well, hi,” the stranger says, “sorry for nearly trampling you.”
Nova looks up at them for the first time, a tall person with broad hips and powerful shoulders, bald and stunningly beautiful. “Oh, uh, don’t worry about it. Your eyes are pretty.”
“Aw, thank you. You’re Nova, right?”
Instantly they’re on high alert, admiration turning to suspicion. “Who’s asking?”
“Calm down, Gavin told me you were coming, asked me to make contact with you when I arrived. Not physical contact, that was an accident.”
Nova studies the stranger’s face, trying to decide how trustable they are.
“I’m Jovi, goddess of good vibes.” She laughs.
To be perfectly honest, Nova thinks, their companion is giving off only the best of vibes. Incredibly nice vibes. “Do you know what’s going on? Gavin only gave me a location.”
Jovi frowns. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No? To be honest I met him kinda recently. Is there something he should’ve told me?”
“Ah, I see. You’re very young, so it makes sense.”
“What does?”
“People like us, with so-called “unnatural abilities”, have been finding each other and trying to learn about our origins for a long time. But legal oppression and organized hate groups forced us underground. Gavin and I are part of the team that’s been trying to identify and reach out to our people on Earth.”
“So why didn’t he tell me?”
“We need to vet everyone because we’ve been infiltrated before by the most innocent characters. The Order of Phoenix are relentless and clever, and they’ve sworn to exterminate us.”
Nova gives a small, bitter laugh. “I wish them good luck in killing me.”
“Is that sincerely what you want?”
They’re taken aback by the directness of the question. Usually people react differently to their suicidal comments. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Jovi nods. “I’ve been there.”
“I don’t think you have.”
There’s a long moment of silence, and then Jovi sighs. “No, child, I haven’t experienced exactly what you have. I will never know the trauma of waking up with all the memories of my own death fresh in my mind. But I know trauma, and what it makes you feel. I know that aching, hopeless feeling when you wish existence was a choice you could have turned down at the beginning.”
“You’re the goddess of good vibes, huh?" Nova groans. “Well I’m the god of death.”
“Death? Really dear, that’s a bit harsh on yourself. Aren’t you the god of life?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“It’s always hard when you don’t know who you are. But you’re not alone, and sometimes what you need to find yourself is the right people backing you up.”
The shuttle travels for over an hour, stopping at several small dome towns, before arriving at the welcome center for the Valles Marineris Preserve, the second-largest park in the solar system after Saturn’s moon Titan. The meeting location is a small museum theater tucked in a corner everyone ignores, where a video plays on a loop explaining the geological history of the greatest canyon humans have ever explored.
Nova and their companion are the first to arrive, and they take seats in the back of the room, watching an animation of ancient rivers cutting through the bedrock. They’ve barely relaxed before Gavin walks in, a deep frown on his face. It melts into a warm smile when he sees them.
“Jovi! Nova! I’m so glad you both got here safely. And I love saying your names together.”
“Has something gone wrong?” Jovi asks.
His smile vanishes just as quickly as it appeared, and he nods. “The Order got Sylvester and Keisha at the shuttle depot when they tried to leave Earth. Right out in the open.”
“Oh fuck…”
“I don’t like how bold they’ve been this time. It seems like they’ve got a more effective system backing them up.” Gavin pauses and looks at Nova, who is chewing fingernails. “Did you have trouble getting off Earth?” he asks.
“No, I teleported to the moon.”
“Good luck you’d been there before. I’m so sorry about all of this. I wish I could have stuck around, but they found me and I thought it best to lead them away from you.”
Someone says “hello there?” from outside the theater, and then three more people walk in. Gavin and Jovi greet them with enthusiasm, and then introduce Nova. The pair of young men who look almost identical are Hector and Hermes, twins from South America who react to everything in sync. The third member of the group is a woman with long green hair and an ageless face, who Gavin introduces as Ceto.
“So this is the small goddess of death,” Ceto says, looming over Nova.
“Not a goddess,” Nova snaps.
“Sorry kid.” Ceto’s tone is flat and careless. “We’ve all had a long day.”
Gavin places a hand on each of their shoulders. “Let’s give first impressions a second chance another time, everyone is here and we should be heading out.”
“Where, bossman?” Ceto says as she brushes his hand away.
“I’ve lined up a ride to the outer planets. They’ll drop us off on Titan where an old friend can provide the resources and tech we need to evade the Order, and maybe even fight back.”
“Who is this old friend? Can we trust them?”
“Yes, if we can trust anyone, it’s her.” Gavin gives Ceto a long stare. “Are we in agreement?”
Jovi and the twins all say yes, and finally Ceto shrugs and nods.
“Nova?”
Startled a bit, they look up, unprepared for being part of the decision-making. “Um, yeah, I’m in.”
“Good. There’s a small hotel nearby, we should all get some rest and tomorrow night we’ll meet the smugglers.”
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