“No way. This cannot be our house!” It was a bubble within a bubble. Silver and reflecting the colours and lights from all around. “We have our own escalator? Are you kidding me?”
Her father laughed and shook his head but her mother looked worried. “How will I get our shopping all the way up there?”
Their pod-bubble-house-thing was the highest in the little group of bubbles that hung together, seemingly suspended mid-air like a bunch of balloons. The tails of the balloons were escalators, each leading to its respective bubble. Amazing. Ignoring her mother’s negativity, Jodi leapt onto the escalator and turned to face her parents. Travelling backward and upward, she laughed properly for the first time in months.
“Outstanding choice of housing, Father!”
Her dad inclined his head toward her and dragged her mum onto the escalator with him.
“Don’t worry, Honey, the bots bring the groceries to the house. We have a delivery chute inside. I’ll show you how to order from the kitchen and the bots deliver. It’s great. You’ll love it.”
“Oh, oh, I’m sure I will. It’s just … I’m just, tired I think.”
“I know what will make you happy …”
“What’s that?” Even Jodi could hear the tiredness in her mother’s sighed question.
“The reason our house is silver is because it’s solar. The whole place is covered in solar cells. Because Mars is further from the sun, they have to be more effective and there has to be more of them. So the pods and all the sky space are massive banks of solar panels. Isn’t that great?”
Jodi had to smile at his enthusiasm. Her parents had been environmental activists all her life. Whatever governments and politicians were doing now, her parents had lobbied for it years before. Whenever the efforts at improvement hadn’t been enough, her parents had brought attention to those inadequacies in the media. They’d dragged themselves and a small child all over the world gathering data and taking measurements. Whatever new technologies had been needed, her parents had ensured they were developed, either personally or by organising research sponsors. Until Jodi had reached her middle years of primary school, her life had been a weird combination of travel brochure and science text book. For a while then, the trips stopped. She and her mother had put down roots while her father kept up his work.
Mars, of course, had proven impossible for him to resist. Then just like old times, Marilyn had upped stumps to follow him. That’s why they were here. Her father was a botanist helping increase productivity in the farming crops and oxygen production from all the plants in the green areas of Anphobos. With that kind of interest, with their combined history, her parents had to be happy to be surrounded by environmental technologies.
Jodi was much more impressed by the personal, or rather impersonal, touches. There was no visible furniture in her room. The smooth walls slid at the touch of her finger to reveal wardrobes, shelves and drawers. It was space saving, she supposed, to hang clothing in wall spaces, but also beautiful and sleek. Her room curved, almost swayed. It shimmered gently and swam in front of her eyes. If she were that kind of girl, Jodi would have swooned with pleasure.
Her dad ruined her moment. “Let me show you everything. You need to know how to control your room.”
The word ‘control’ made her head bob up. “Oh yeah? I don’t just drop stuff on the floor and leave my bed unmade?”
Her father shrugged. “You can if you want.”
Okay, that was new, no programmed parental response. Best to encourage that.
“So what’s to control?”
He grabbed her hand and placed a small plaque in her palm.
“If you hold this, you can speak to your room. Otherwise, there’s a roomote over beside your bed. First thing you’ll want to control is the light. Daytime and daylight vary quite a bit here depending on the season, so you can ask your room to make it dimmer or brighter. She’ll do whatever you want.”
“She? My room is a she?”
“Well, she’s a program so I presume she’s not anything really. I’ve just been thinking of your room as a ‘she’ since I moved in. It made me feel less …” he shrugged, “… lonely.”
“Oh. Ummm. What else can I control?”
He smiled and must have known she was trying to lift his mood. “Pretty much everything. You can even buy personality software for your room now, so she’s kind of your friend as well as your space.”
Jodi raised her eyebrows and nodded her approval of this new and total coolness. “She doesn’t … ahhh … watch anything does she?”
“Gods, I hope not!”
His shout of laughter drew Marilyn into the room. “What do you hope?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing!”
Huh, maybe she wouldn’t disagree with her dad over everything after all. Even if they only ever agreed on how she kept her room and what not to tell her mother, that was a very good start.
“Right, well you stay and get comfy in your room. I’ll go and show your mother everything else.”
“Bed please, uhh, Room?”
A panel slid open in the floor and her bed lifted into view. Jodi grinned, approached with caution, then threw herself into the middle of the giant mattress. She lay back and squirmed so that eventually her head lay on the pillows. The coverlet on her bed was a pale metallic pink, a colour that showed her dad barely knew who she was. The texture of it, though, made it worth keeping in spite of its colour; one touch and she knew it was silk.
Age old and infinitely useful, silk was one of those textiles that had lasted the ages. Naturally, it was cheaper now. With genetically modified goats producing the stuff in their milk, it was much more readily available than when poor, unknowing caterpillars had spun it before being boiled alive in their silken cocoons. Jodi deliberately rolled across the bed, the fabric shushed as she moved. Wonderful.
The bots hadn’t yet arrived with her luggage, so there was no point in stripping off or having a shower until her clothes appeared. Lying in the puddle of soft pink fabric, she chewed her nails and surveyed the room.
“Dad! How do I turn the TV on?”
No sooner had she finished the question than the wall beyond the foot of her bed illuminated. “TV on,” responded a computerised but definitely feminine voice. She looked down at the plaque still in her hand.
A wry smile found its way to her lips. “Thank you, Room,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” the voice whispered back.
Jodi giggled, curled into her coverlet and turned her attention to the screen. The happiness fell out of her when she focused on the scene playing out on the wall. A shuttle fell, wobbled and began a downward spiral as she watched.
“Louder,” she instructed the room. “Please.”
She probably should have been more specific because noise blared into the room. Deafening. Riveted to the screen, Jodi didn’t care. That was her shuttle flight. Her parents appeared in the doorway.
“What’s all the …” her mother’s question died away when she, too, recognised the shuttle. “Oh.” For the first time in probably thirty years, Marilyn sat on the floor.
“… Diplomatic relations between Earth and Mars grew even shakier today when rebel action caused Flight AN702 to plummet toward the surface this afternoon. Minister Rabana and his entourage fortunately sustained only minor injuries, but the blow to interplanetary relations is heavy.”
“Mute,” her mother’s voice was stony. Her glare would have extended the Martian permafrost. “You brought us here, knowing there were diplomatic issues? Why didn’t I hear about this? Exactly what is going on?”
Uh oh. When Marilyn Scarfield asked what was wrong, in that particular tone, very few people survived unscathed. Jodi nibbled on a pinky fingernail and surveyed the room for an escape hatch.
Her father raised his hands. “It’s nothing, Marilyn. If it was serious it would be on the news at home, wouldn’t it? It’s just some petty rebels protesting Earth’s taxes and import restrictions. Nothing to be worried about.”
“I am home and it is on the news here. I could have died today because of those ‘petty rebels’ and you’re brushing aside my concerns? Are you insane?”
So many good responses to that specific question leapt into Jodi’s head, but none of them managed to squeeze out her mouth. Probably a lucky thing, considering how her tongue still hurt, and her mother may well have cut it right out of her head if she’d mouthed off about something so obviously worrying.
“Honestly, Marilyn, it’s nothing. I would never put you girls in harm’s way, you know that. How could you think that of me?”
Lots more good answers and still no noise. Her mum deflated in the face of her father’s guilt trip. Eye rolling was silent, so Jodi rolled her eyes and lay back on her bed. The argument was lost. Marilyn was subdued.
“I don’t know, David. It all seems very uncertain. And that landing was so frightening that I’m still shaking. And now I find you haven’t told me the truth about moving here. It’s not as idyllic as you made it sound.”
Her dad sighed, always an indication of his being a gracious winner and eternally patient with fools who just didn’t understand.
“It is that idyllic, Marilyn. The rebels were just looking for some media attention. Now they’ve gotten it, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe, if nobody pays attention, they’ll stop. Obviously, there are political negotiations taking place. And so there should be. So let’s just let the politicians sort it out while we get on with life, okay?” So much for the world-changing activist; so far it looked like David Scarfield had joined the politically correct peacekeeping crowd.
Her dad put an arm around her mum’s shoulders and squeezed her against him. “Everything’s fine, Mags, let’s just forget about it and get on with the good life, eh?” The pair left the room without any formal exit.
Pillow groans were not entirely silent, but Jodi rolled over, buried her face in a soft feather pillow and groaned. Settling in was going to be a very interesting process. She sucked breath through the cool fabric pressed against her face. Travelling here, she’d expected the place to change, not the people. Maybe during their long space sleep, someone had affected a personality transplant on Marilyn. Replaced her annoying, overbearing, nosey mother with a simpering agree-a-tron.
Raising her head, Jodi surveyed her surroundings. Agree-a-tron aside, there were some good things about this new space to be appreciated. First and most importantly, her room was excellent and she was alive to appreciate it. There was something about new rooms. So clean and empty and big, they felt pristine and unmarked. Where other people may have wanted to put pictures on walls and add personal touches, Jodi liked hers just like this. Sleek and cool and new. If only it would stay this way forever. She grinned. Never gonna happen.
Jodi rolled onto her back, clasped her hands behind her head and breathed deeply as she properly surveyed her new domain. A funky smell wafted past her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose, turned her head to the right, then the left and screwed up her face.
Luggage or no luggage, there was no living with that smell. She fiddled at her right shoulder for the point where the pieces of fabric making her suit met. There were no zips or buttons on the suit. The polymerised silk fabric was designed to stick to itself in places. To ensure strength and heat modulation, the front of the suit was entirely double fabric, where a left side flap fit perfectly over top of the right. She peeled the layers apart and rolled the rest of the suit down off her body. Unable to find a bin, she rolled it into a ball and threw it at a wall. That was one outfit she was never wearing again. Never, ever. Well, not until they went home anyway.
* * *
In the shower, water shot at her in all directions. Sensors had detected her presence, waited a moment and then begun showering. For a little while, Jodi just stood, appreciating the sensation. Amazing how water always managed to make her feel better. A scrubbing, a hair wash, some sweet smelling bubbles would have her good as new and ready for Mars.
Halfway through her hair wash, the water stopped. Jodi looked for a button. There wasn’t one. She jumped up and down, hoping to activate the sensor. It didn’t. She stepped out of the shower and back in. Nothing. She examined the spray nozzles hoping for any sign of water. Not a drop.
Swearing, she exited the booth, searched for a towel – of course there wasn’t one of those either – so grabbed her duvet on the way through her bedroom and wrapped herself.
“DAD!”
“Ahhh, the sweet sound of my adorable teenage daughter. How can I assist you, Princess?”
Jodi scowled. “Why did the shower stop?”
“You took too long.”
“I what?”
“You took too long. Water is all recycled here but there are always some losses. You get five minutes in the shower before they all turn off. That’s how it goes.” He shrugged as though this had nothing to do with him.
Jodi breathed deeply. “You’re telling me that I’ve been on a shuttle for months, I’ve got hair that needs washing, skin that needs scrubbing and a body that hasn’t seen the light of day in light-years and now I get five measly minutes in the shower? I can’t believe there haven’t been riots. How am I expected to be ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“Mingling!”
David smiled and shrugged.
“Oh, my God!” Marilyn’s voice came wailing down the hall. “David! Where’s the water gone?”
Jodi grinned. Somehow, it seemed funnier when her mother was missing water, too. Her dad’s shoulders slumped and he began a slow walk down the hall to their room, muttering as he went.
“Dead man walking,” she murmured just loud enough for him to hear. Her father made the first rude gesture she’d ever seen from him.
Jodi was still laughing when she saw the sink.
Then her mother emerged wrapped in a fluffy blue towel.
“Where did you get that from?” It was hard to sound outraged with her head wedged beneath the kitchen tap and her dangling hair in danger of being eaten by the garbage disposal.
“I asked the room where it was.” Her mother sounded less than impressed.
“Oh.” Jodi couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that.
“I can’t believe they have an entire frikkin’ river but I can’t have more than five minutes in the shower.”
“I know.” Communal commiseration was always nice. Still upside down, with the last of her conditioner running down the plug hole, she realised her next predicament. “Mum?”
“What?” Her mother’s voice cut angrily in her direction.
“Can you ask my room where my towels are, please?”
“Oh! Oh … alright. Sorry, Sweetie.”
Jodi waited. A bright light flashed from beside her. She reeled backward.
“This is going to be the first of our ‘Family on Mars’ album.” Her father seemed very happy with himself.
“Holy crap! I thought the insinkerator was about to eat me! And could you not?” She scowled at his camera. “Delete it.”
“No way. It’s great. I bet you’ll always remember your introduction to five minute showers.”
“I bet we all will.” Marilyn returned carrying a towel. She pointed to her head. “It’s kind of hard to forget.”
David snapped a photo.
“Dad!”
“David!”
Her father ran down the hall laughing. Her mother took up her position at the kitchen sink.
“This was a very clever idea. I thought I was going to spend the day wearing conditioner.” She eyed the stainless sink. “I wonder if I could shave my legs in here.”
“Mum, that’s a bit gross.”
“Well, you know how it goes. I woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.”
“What were you doing for your five minutes and all that time on the ship, if you didn’t shave your legs?”
“Thinking,” Marilyn grinned. “I do my best thinking in the shower. I think it’s the water.”
What could she say to that? She left her mother to it and waddled back to her room, clutching and sidestepping the duvet which threatened to trip her every third step. Before she was half way down the hall, an idea struck. A crazy idea, probably borne of the fact that she didn’t want to lie around just waiting for her clothes to arrive, but an idea nonetheless.
“Hey Dad?”
A deep sigh returned from his bedroom. “Yes, Daughter?”
“Where is the control computer for the house?”
Now her father’s face appeared around the door frame. “I’m not sure. The house was working when I got here, so I’ve just left it this way.”
“Is that a male thing or an old person thing, do you think?”
Her father shrugged.
“So are there hatches in the hallway here?”
Like a cat slinking around a corner, the rest of his body followed his head. “I guess so.” He paused for a second, looked towards the ceiling and spoke again. “Hall? Where is the control computer?”
Jodi could have kicked herself. She was the technogeek in the family, so why could she never remember to consult the stupid computer?
A feminine voice interrupted her thoughts. “In the hatch three feet from the kitchen, sir.”
Jodi almost had to elbow her dad aside as they moved together down the hallway. It irritated her that even though he didn’t know what she was up to, he wanted to be part of it. Or in charge of it. That was going to get old quickly.
Under careful examination, the edge of the hatch was visible. The door was an exact fit; smooth and flush in the eggshell-coloured wall, its edges appeared as barely a scratch in the wall’s finish. Her dad placed a finger on the door and it automatically flipped open. Jodi nearly jumped for joy. Her father stared at the screen.
“Uh, Dad? Do you think I could have a look?”
“What are you going to do?” He narrowed his eyes with obvious mistrust.
Jodi sighed. What was it with her parents that they never believed her capable of anything good?
“I’m going to diddle with the shower times.”
“What? You can’t do that! That’s against the rules!”
“Let her diddle, David!” Her mother appeared, hair dripping on the floor, arms folded across her be-towelled chest, shaver still clutched in one hand.
“But Marilyn, if we shower for more than our time, we’ll use too much water and someone will miss out.”
“I pick you!” Marilyn poked him in the chest with her shaver. “Besides, we don’t want long showers all the time Davey, just the option. We are not living in a dictatorship. Choice is a right. Go on Jodi, diddle.”
Jodi touched the onscreen button indicating amenities, then pressed the blue button with a shower symbol. A full screen of text leapt up for her perusal. Her eyes scanned the script. Nothing new there. She may not be good at actually speaking to computer interfaces, but she was awesome at understanding how their programs worked. The house program was just the latest version of what her own computer did really, just very detailed. As usual, her lips started moving as she scanned across and down the lines of instructions. Muttering sort of helped her think.
Finally, the shower timing codes appeared. “Got you now, babies,” she whispered to the glowing screen. “Let’s have a nice polite introduction here, and you be good, okay?”
Instantly her fingers began moving across the flat keyboard. Careful not to erase anything but the one code for timing, she inserted and applied a new command for shower timing. The computer noted the change. So simple. So effective. Jodi giggled, clapped to herself quietly, then called to her mother.
“Anything else you want done while I’m here, Mum?”
“What?”
“I just made it so we can shower for fifteen minutes. Do you want me to change anything else?”
“Jodi!” her mum fairly trilled with happiness. “You’re so clever! But no, there’s nothing I want fixed just yet. I don’t know enough to decide what to change. I’ll let you know when I do, though. Now I’m going to go shave my legs. Why didn’t you think of this earlier, Jodi?”
Jodi blinked. Fair question.
Marilyn kissed her husband’s cheek then patted his arm. “If she keeps this up, you’ll be obsolete, Davey!”
Her father frowned and stalked back to the kitchen. Marilyn raced down the hall toward her room to finish her shower. Jodi made one small adjustment to the control computer. Now she was thinking straight, and the thought process was flowing, she figured she should work while she could.
Her mother had asked a good question. If technogeekery was her thing, why wasn’t the computer her first point of interest? That had always been how her mind worked. She reacted first and thought later. Truly good ideas never surfaced until long after an event. Sometimes too long. She shrugged and headed back to her room. Better late than never. Besides, if this was how easy everything was going to be, Mars was going to be a cinch. A tweak here, a little reprogramming there, and a whole new world was her oyster. Complete with its gleaming, rainbow lining.