Compelling Tale Publishing
Red Planet

A science fiction short story
Red Planet
Ally rolled over and tried to shut out the raucous buzz. It was a poor noise to wake up to, but she preferred a sound she couldn’t ignore. Giving in, she pulled the pillow off her head and sat up. Her first deep breath of the bedroom air triggered a giant sneeze. As usual, the omnipresent red dust had invaded the room during the night. She wiped away the layer of sandy red grit obscuring her handscreen and turned off the alarm.
“Ally! Time to get up!” Her mom stuck her head into Ally’s room for a moment to confirm Ally was actually awake.
“I’m up, Mom,” Ally said. She shook the dust off the bedding onto the floor so the dustbots could get it, then grabbed her handscreen to take it into the shower. She liked to play music during her morning routine. She dodged the first dustbot coming into her room as she headed for the washroom. They were back on duty after their nightly downtime.
“Water’s on half-rations today,” her mom’s voice warned her from down the hall.
Ally moaned. The day was off to a bad start. The showerbot didn’t allow any cheating. Ally felt even the full water ration wasn’t enough to get clean. Her bare feet left footprints in the dust of the hall. By the time she came back, the bots would have the floor cleaned up.
Hair, pits, feet and pubis. Ally raced to cover the priority spots before the water ran out. She ended up cursing the shower when she failed to get all the shampoo out of her hair and did her best to towel it out.
Breakfast didn’t do anything to improve her mood. Pop tarts were on the menu.
“Mom! Roach paste for breakfast?” Ally complained.
“The proper name for the filling is invertebrate protein,” her mom replied.
“Call it what you want, it doesn’t make it taste any better,” said Ally.
“Here, you can have my icing packet,” her mom offered.
The news and weather podcast her mom liked played in the background, coming from her mom’s handscreen which was propped up on the counter.
“Today’s temperature is expected to hold steady throughout the day at 60 degrees Celsius,” the caster said.
“Sixty degrees! It’s too hot to go to the rec centre,” Ally said. “Maybe it’ll cool off later? Mia and I wanted to go after school.”
“Maybe,” said her mom, “but for now come straight home after school. With the humidity, the death index is ten minutes.”
“I hate this planet,” said Ally.
It was time to suit up. Ally got the heatsuit out of the closet and began the process of putting on the heavy, moisture-trapping suit, along with the boots, gauntlets and full head mask. She checked the battery level and hit the test button on all three fans to make sure they were working.
“Allison!” her mom called. “Don’t forget to fill your water pouch. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”
“I was going to,” Ally said. She pulled a plastic tube out from the inner layer of the suit, near chest level, and attached it to the kitchen tap. She ran the water until the liquid started backing up the tube, then unfastened the tubing, capped it, and shoved it back into her suit. She finished putting on the headgear and gauntlets and turned on the heatsuit. The fans kicked to life with a surge, then settled down to a quiet hum, one on each hip and one by her mouth on the headpiece.
“Have a good day dear,” said her mom. She kissed her fingers and then pressed the fingers on the suit’s clear viewplate, where Ally could see them.
“Bye, Mom,” said Ally, and went out the two-door heat lock. A small porch kept the outer door in the shade, but Ally could see the sun was out in full force today, with no clouds to shield its effects. The red sand dunes of the valley stretched away in bright crimson waves, shimmering in the heat.
“Darken viewplate,” Ally told the suit. Her suit followed her command and dimmed the viewing portal by the default amount.
She set off on the trail to school at a fast pace. She wanted to have some time to talk with Mia at the waystation before school started. A couple of waist-high drifts covering the trail in loose sand slowed her down. The sand plows hadn’t been by in a while and the drifting was worse than usual this morning. She watched a small dust devil skipping along the crest of some nearby dunes.
When she got to the carbon sink, she decided to cut straight across it to the waystation. Her mom told her to stick to the trail, which went around the carbon sink in a big loop, but Ally had taken this shortcut before and wasn’t afraid of it. Adults were worried something in the sink would catch fire if you disturbed it, but Ally figured there was nothing here to burn. Aside from the black color of the ground, the carbon sink had nothing interesting to see. There were a couple of foot-high black bits sticking out of the sand here and there, but not many. Sand that blew in got stained black in fairly short order, leaving the sable patch intact.
The waystation was a small building with air conditioning and a water cistern, located at the halfway point between the end of the valley and the school. Ally checked her suit status when she reached the entrance. The battery read-out showed it was down to half charge. Going through the heat lock, she saw her friend was already there, fiddling with her suit. Headgear discarded, Mia was tossing her head to the side, throwing the bangs of her blond bob out of her eyes in a familiar gesture.
Ally took off her own headgear, which wasn’t needed in the waystation’s cooled interior.
“Hey, something wrong with your suit?” she asked.
“One of the fans stopped working,” Mia replied.
“That’s the second time in a week. We should call your mom,” said Ally.
“She knows. We’re going to get a new suit at the end of the month when her cheque comes in. Two fans are enough till then.”
“It’s dangerous. We can call my mom to give us a ride.”
“You can’t spare the power. Besides, she’ll find out you’ve been cutting through the carbon sink,” said Mia, pointing a finger at the black dust coating the feet and calves of Ally’s heatsuit. “That’s just the way it goes when there’s only two families at this end of the valley. Not enough people for public transport. We don’t even rate a geothermal waystation.”
Ally looked around the bare shed that comprised the waystation. It was indeed a spartan setup. A couple of benches, a hard-wired emergency comms panel and the taps on one wall from the cistern. She went over to refill her water pouch. Even with the suit, the heat was oppressive and she had consumed half of her water supply on the way here.
“What do you think of that new boy that started yesterday?” Mia asked.
“Dixon? He’s massively cute,” Ally said. “It’ll be hard on him starting a new school in the middle of the term.”