Mechanical Glory

"You'd never believe it—we can actually survive on Mars without wearing spacesuits!"

"That's because you're inside the habitat module!" the technician roared impatiently. "James, you idiot! Get back to work! Didn't you get sick of this view during the advance survey?"

"Have a sense of humor, man. We're Earthlings who set foot on Mars!" James gazed through the window at the red sandy hills in the distant desert wasteland. Orange-red sunlight spilled down from the sky, making the entire world look as though it were about to be swallowed by a raging fire. He had no choice but to put on the cheap sunglasses he had bought on Earth so the light would not burn his eyes blind. The inspectors had discovered the sunglasses while checking his luggage. For some reason, the space program, which counted every ounce of payload, had let him off and allowed him to bring this personal item that was not on the declaration list. Now he knew why: the inspector, like him, was Australian.

"Considering that we're at least fifty-five million kilometers from Earth, Mars is a fine place to reminisce about Australia's forest fires. They're both red, after all." James left the observation window and walked toward the busy technician. Taking off his sunglasses, he revealed the prescription glasses beneath them. "How are we supposed to solve the foundry's gravity issue? The manual only says things like, 'Press this button once,' 'Press that button twice,' and 'Flip this switch when the light turns red.' It doesn't look anything like an operating manual for astronauts landing on Mars."

The massive habitat module bearing a golden eagle emblem shook twice. The technician with short gray-white hair knew that he had completed the first step: anchoring it to Mars. He trusted the two enormous tracks to do