Bones on Mars - A paranormal, sci-fi, fantasy romance

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PEMAR's tracks ate up the miles in a teeth-rattling monotony, churning up enough dust for the geeks back on Earth to spot it with their telescopes. For a second, Floyd felt like waving. He didn't give in to the urge, since no one would see him inside this metal breakfast box anyway, and his two companions wouldn't have understood.

Well, Bones with his misdirected sense of humor would laugh at the grim reaper's bony face.

Leelawati wouldn't recognize humor even if it bit off her nose. That was assuming humor made it past her helmet. Since the thing was built to withstand even rocks flying around in a marsquake, it was unlikely.

"How much longer, navigator?" Leelawati asked.

Bitch.

"The man has a name," Bones said mildly. "It's Floyd."

"He's here to transport us to the station. When at the station, his purpose is to ensure functionality of the equipment at all times and to provide mobility services to the scientific crew. That's you and I, Doctor Jones."

"Djalu, my dear. We're going to be in this together for quite a while. Let's take it easy on the formality. Who needs family names, anyway?"

"It's Dr. Kalal, Dr. Jones."

"You're a pain in the back, that's what you are," Bones said.

Floyd tuned them out and focused on his driving. He would provide mobility, all right. If she didn't watch it, she might find herself transported to somewhere rocky and devoid of air sooner than she could say navigator.

Quite a while later, the coordinates had gradually inched up toward their destination. He switched on the external long-range camera, and there it was.

Home sweet home. At least for the next twelve months it would be.

Two domes flanked by squarish, chunky buildings that were connected by an elongated tunnel peeled from the dust. Originally off-white, the dwellings had already taken on a faint rosy tinge.

On Mars, the dust always won.

Black figures moved around the buildings, a bit like artificial guard dogs, only sporting too many edges and angles to be natural.

The droids.

At the edge of the compound sat the oxygenators, large squares with blades rotating in the ever-present wind. Their job was to suck up the carbon dioxide and spit out oxygen. There was plenty of carbon dioxide to go around, 95% of the planet's blasted atmosphere was filled with it.

To prepare for their arrival, the oxygenators and the field generators had been running non-stop for two years. The machines' combined efforts had created an atmosphere around the dwellings that wasn't exactly healthy, but at least they wouldn't have to wear spacesuits when stepping outside.

Which they would have to do a lot. There were plants to be seeded and grown, the environment to be explored and mapped, the compound to be extended for the next team to join them—yup, they would be busy. With a bit of luck, it would stop Leelawati from mouthing off all the time.

They weren't married, nor would they ever be, so he didn't need yackety-yak on a drip feed. Mona had overdosed him on that.

He wouldn't think of Mona now.

"Target in sight," he said.

"What target?" Leelawati asked.

"Lemme guess, a big, lime-green polar bear, waving the Alliance flag."

Beside himself, Floyd was intrigued. "Why lime-green?"

Bones tapped the side of his helmet. He'd be grinning again. "This is Mars, my friend. The inhabitants are bound to be green."