The Cathedrals of Mars by E.M. Rensing

Author:E.M. Rensing
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: E.M. Rensing

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Tharsis woke from another dream of red sandstone and echoing cries to see Morray pulling on his boots in the pre-dawn light.

“Train’s not until zero-nine. Thought I’d go watch the sun come up,” he told her. “Don’t get to see it much these days.”

She felt cold, clammy. She’d been sweating in her sleep again, she realized, and grimaced. “I think I’ll take a shower.”

He nodded and yanked a borrowed jacket out of his pack. “I’ll be down at the rim observation trail. Tyr? You coming?”

Tharsis realized, after he and the dog left, that it was some sort of invitation. What kind, she wasn’t sure.

“Last thing you need right now,” she muttered to herself, and crawled out of bed.

Still, it had been a long time since she’d gotten to watch the sunrise in the highlands of Mars, over snow and ice and wind. She’d always loved it as a kid. Tharsis got showered and dressed quicker than she’d meant to and found herself heading down to the rim.

Most of Franklan Station was sealed off, a fully pressurized series of geodesic domes, not dissimilar to what was out at Deimos. But where Asaph was gray, utilitarian, Franklan’s interior was built for tourism. Inside the air seals, the place was a riot of color.

Here, simulated wood buildings reached modest heights, heavy upper levels spilling over their bases, alpine style. Pastel motifs stood out bright on dark-stained fiberglass logs. Flags hung from balconies and striped awnings protected the fronts of stores from the harsh high-altitude sun. Early as it was, the place was lit by wrought iron lamps, hanging from the buildings or perched on low poles. The town was built around a single cobblestone byway, which flowed between the station at one end, and a lovely Scandic-style stave church at the other, a wide square nestled in between.

Here, cherry trees in huge planters were just beginning to bud out. Evergreens stood proud between the fronts of the larger hotels or marked the start of the trails that led to the Rim and some of the managed attractions.

The aesthetic of the place was supposed to be a tribute to the old mountains of Earth, those legendary regions now firmly beyond even the most ambitious of adventurers. The architecture was a mix of alpine and Himalayan, styles favored across the Bulge.

A few of the little shops were open, and Tharsis stopped at one. A few MSDs bought her a spiced, milky tea and some sort of pastry, oozing honey. She took both and headed to the perimeter trail.

She walked east, taking her time. This ran behind the buildings of the main street, and here, evergreens and aspens were planted in thick copses. Probably to simulate some kind of natural habitat, and also to help with air quality. The challenges of keeping trees alive here, she mused, were probably greater than in orbit.

To her right was the edge of the dome. Copper filaments, run through the frame, ensured the glass was always ice free, the view pristine.

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