"You won't believe this—we're actually surviving on Mars without wearing spacesuits!"
"That's because you're in the biodome, you idiot!" the technician snapped impatiently. "James, get back to work! Haven't you had enough of this view during pre-deployment scouting?"
"Have a sense of humor, mate. We're Earthlings on Mars!" James gazed out the observation window at the red sand dunes of the Martian wasteland. The orange sunlight bathed everything in a fiery hue, making the world look as if it were moments away from bursting into flame. He had to put on the cheap sunglasses he'd bought back on Earth to keep from going blind. During luggage inspection, the review officers had found them, but oddly enough—for a mission obsessed with weight limits—they let it slide. Now he knew why: the reviewer had also been an Aussie.
"Considering we're at least fifty-five million kilometers from Earth, Mars is a decent place to miss Australia's bushfires. All red, after all." James turned away from the window and walked over to the constantly busy technician. He took off his sunglasses, revealing the prescription lenses beneath. "How exactly are we supposed to solve the gravity issue at the foundry? The operations manual just says stuff like 'press this button once,' 'press that one twice,' 'flip this switch when the light turns red'—this doesn't read like it's meant for astronauts."
The massive biodome, emblazoned with a golden eagle insignia, rumbled slightly. The gray-haired technician knew that meant the first step was complete: they had anchored the dome to the Martian surface. He had faith in the massive treads beneath it. This wasn't just a biodome—it was a mobile fortress.
Aside from the manned landing module, other modular components had already been sent ahead via multiple rocket launches. The main lander had executed a pinpoint descent to dock with them perfectly. With its turret-like upper structure, the lander was built more like a tank than a spacecraft—far sturdier than most modern orbital vehicles. No need to worry about a pinky-sized micrometeorite or space debris piercing its shell and causing a decompression event. Its thick armor plates and ever-running reactor core provided it with nearly limitless energy. Even a three-month Martian dust storm wouldn't threaten its schedule.
Only weak spacecraft use solar panels. Real heavy-duty landers run on nuclear power—hell, someone even had the brilliant idea to mount a giant plasma cannon to the front of the biodome.
"That manual's written for future colonists, not trained astronauts. Looks like command wants to speed up the colonization process. They're not going to require every settler to have a PhD." The technician was checking the radio relays deployed during earlier launches and now began sending signals to other landing sites. They weren't the only ones on Mars, nor were they the first. What made their landing possible was the grand design their superiors had for the planet. Not even Martian monsters—if those actually existed—could escape the plasma cannon's wrath.
"Even on Mars, we can't escape losing jobs to refugees?" James asked, raising an eyebrow. "Fred, I remember you ranting about your former boss being obsessed with diversity—hiring some Middle Eastern ex-con instead of a well-educated white mechanical engineer."
"Our boss is a textbook pragmatist. You think he gives a damn about humanitarian nonsense? We'll open schools, teach everyone science—regardless of skin color, background, or age," Fred said indifferently. "We'll train them on the job until they have our skills. But if any refugee thinks this is Germany, where they can commit crimes without consequence and have white politicians kiss their feet, they're in for a rude awakening—though yeah, the boss did promise them the European dream just to get them here. They had no clue they were heading to Mars until the launch."
Seeing James's confusion, Fred paused his work and explained further.
"You remember those cyborgs you saw at the Earth base? Our boss doesn't keep useless mouths around. Break the law and you'll be turned into a mechanically-augmented labor drone—working nonstop until your flesh rots off."
"No wonder you joined this company, man. That's dark as hell!"
"James, I think it's time I told you the truth." Fred took a deep breath. Suddenly, he turned and pulled out a bizarre-looking pistol. James flinched and raised both hands.
"This isn't a company. It's a government—an independent one, with no ties to any Earth nation. This project's real mission is to protect humanity from extraterrestrial threats—not politicians or billionaires, but people like us. To protect mankind. To preserve civilization. Sorry for keeping you in the dark, but your invention is too important. We couldn't risk losing a mind like yours."
"That's messed up, man! I just met a girl at the science conference—I finally met someone I could talk to! And now you're telling me I can't go back to Earth? That was the first time in 28 years I ever felt something real, you bastard! Your boss is a bastard! Fuck!"
"None of us can go back, James—unless you want to be an outside-the-dome grunt drone. But if you'll let me finish, I've got good news: Jennifer—the girl you met—is here too. We don't let any recruitable scientist slip away, not even her. Give me a few more hours, and we'll be synced with her biodome."
"I'll stay! I'll work, Fred! Just don't let me go back to being a lonely science nerd!"
"Intel said this would work on you," Fred chuckled, holstering the taser. He clapped James on the back. "Welcome to the Eternal City's Mars Division—NERV Base. This is going to be the center for genetic engineering and mechanical innovation. The whole planet will be a foundry, powered by tech that puts Earth to shame! Just picture it: kilometer-long space battleships. We'll be the saviors of humanity!"
James slowly lowered his arms, face twisted with disbelief. "Let me guess—we're also building fifty-meter-tall humanoid robots?"
"You bet we are!" Fred laughed heartily. "That's one of our flagship projects: Titan Mechs! Now get to work—let's make history!"
"I'm starting to think our boss is just a giant nerd..."
Solomon shrugged, continuing his stroll through the Martian red desert. He was pleased his people remained so optimistic. He had already obtained private authorization from the Ancient One. Mars would soon enter a state of accelerated time—speeding up all early-stage development to ensure they completed Phase One before the space pirates arrived.
All of his dreams would be realized on this planet.
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I Am Zeus, KING OF GODS (Chapter 79)
Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 391)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 471)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 677)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 1059)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1418)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1422)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1452)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1504)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld!(Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 703)
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