By
Travis
Kline
The Mayflower
decended through the thin and dust filled atmosphere of Mars. The ship buzzed
with the roar of the Fusion drive spitting fire aganist Mars gravity, and the
unabated chattering of the two-hundred and fifty colonists looking for
equipment and supplies that should have been packed three months ago. As for myself, I was content to sit at a
starboard viewport on an observation deck and watch the ship slip under a layer
of dust clouds to expose the red rusty dirt of the river valley that had been
selected as the sight for our new home.
As this is an account of
the first settlement on Mars, let me introduce myself. My name is Steven Orkan, I am a engineer,
plain and simple. I wanted to fix
things all my life and the space program had a need for engineers, so there I
was, one of two-hundred and fifty brave (or foolish) people who volunteered to
establish the first colony on Mars. It
took two years for us to reach Mars even with Fusion Drive technology. A long trip by all accounts, 49,100,000
miles to be exact.
I remember the ship
gliding down on pillars of white hot fire, the ship pushing aganist the Martian
gravity. The colonist suiting up in
space gear to disembark from our two-year prison. I myself was already suited up and about to walk to one of the
cargo bays to check on my equipment.
Then the warning klaxons, sending up their shrill wail into the ships
bussling corridors and compartments.
The automated warning system screaming that engine number four was
overloading, and the cry of terror that went up from those colonist that still
gives me the ocasional sleepless night.
I remember the impact, as the ship tilled to port and slammed into the
red Martian soil at near forty-miles an hour.
I barely had time to put a restraint over my waist before the momentum
threw me aganist it. The pain of having
my stomach pushed aganist my spine.
Then, as quickly as it happened it was over. The ship settled into the red dirt and slowly began to settle
back to a level position.
I released the restraint
and walked toward the port hatch
leaning on the forward bulkhead for support. Still recovering from the impact, I managed to make it into the
corridor. I found very few people as I
made my way to the first airlock forward of the observation deck. Cycling it open, then closed, and then open
to the Martian atmosphere, I was met by a gust of wind and dust that nearly
knocked me off my feet. As I stepped
out onto the rocky red soil, I felt both elation and fear. I had survived a crash but as far as I could
tell, I was the only person alive, of course I had not realy made any attempt
to search for other survivors. Seeing
only the plain of rock incrusted dirt in front of me and the cold uncaring
steel hull of the ship behind I felt a chill run down my spine, I was alone in
this barren wasteland.