The logo of the Helion corporation, with its strong metallic H in a circle of bright yellow and its shooting arrow, filled Alex’s screen as he waited for the connection to confirm. The symbol represented the ultra-light solar sails on which the corporation had built its reputation – and its fortune. The propulsion system, which used giant mirrors to catch radiation from the sun, like a sailing boat catches the wind, was fitted to some of the early probes that journeyed to the outer solar system and the unmanned cargo ships that brought supplies to the original settlers on Mars.
Alex shuffled on top of the covers of his bed to sit cross-legged as he waited. An endless loop of soothing music confirmed the audio connection to the space station was functional.
The logo blinked off, the music faded, and the smiling face of his father filled the screen. Bobbing gently as he floated in microgravity.
Alex always thought of his dad as bearded and remembered, when he was a small boy, how his bristles tickled his face when he gave him a squeezing hug. But when he was in space, his father kept himself clean shaven and his hair incredibly short.
“Hey, Alex!” said his dad, his voice relayed from tens of kilometers above the planet.
“Hey, Dad. What’s it like up there?”
He waited the obligatory fraction of a second while the communication relay sent the audio up to his father, he listened, and his reply came back to Mars.
“Dark,” said his father with a chuckle.
It was a family joke. Every time he was asked that question, he always said that space was dark. Because, in the grand scheme of things, even with the bright disc of the sun illuminating the red globe of Mars, most of it was.
“Really, Dad. What’s it like? You know, with everything that’s going on.”
His father’s smile lessened a little. “The work is the work, as always,” he said. “Preparations for the Soletta project are going well. I should be travelling out to the Lagrange point to help with construction in the next couple of weeks. Not that I’m allowed to say much more about that because of the corporate confidentiality thing. But the boffins are doing their sums, scratching their heads and figuring it out, so everyone’s optimistic.”
It sounded amazing. Exciting. But so very far away. “So you’re OK up there?”
“Sure! We always had to eat what we were given anyway, so the rationing’s not making much of a difference out here. Besides, there’s usually someone slipping a few credits to the importer folks to get us something special when there’s a shipment from Earth. What about you?”
Alex wanted to tell him about everything he’d been doing with Ivan. How they were standing up for the ordinary person on Mars. He wanted his father to be proud of him. But he couldn’t be certain no one else was listening. Either out in the space station with his father or eavesdropping on the communication circuit.
So he kept his answer vague. “I wish I knew what was going to happen. Everyone’s on edge.”
“Is it as bad on the farms as they’re saying?”
“No one tells us. We’re spending a lot of time sterilizing the fields now in case the crop death is lurking somewhere.”
His father nodded sympathetically. “And your mother?”
“She’s Mom,” said Alex. “You know how Mom is. She always says everything’s fine, even when it isn’t.”
His father chuckled again, but this time both of them understood it wasn’t really funny.
“Hey, Alex, I have to keep this short. My shift’s about to start.”
Alex felt the familiar pang of his father going away. “Will you be coming home soon?”
“Not until things settle down, is what we’ve been told. They say we’re better off out here for a while.”
Alex expected the disappointment, but it didn’t lessen its impact. “Well… see you soon.”
“Bye, Alex. Be good.”
His father reached up to touch the screen. The image of his face blinked off and was replaced with cold, white words against a black background: Connection Ended.