11

Celebrations

Riviera Biome was full of flowers. The clover was fully established on the lawn and made a soft carpet for the wedding of Ananda Thanarat and Kimberley Irion. The couple stood with a semicircle of readers of scriptural passages to the right and left of them, including Will, Ethel, Marshall, Enrique, Greg, and Martha. The ceremony culminated when the couple repeated the Bahá'í wedding vows: “We will, all, verily, abide by the Will of God.” Then Ananda and Kimberly signed the wedding license, followed by the witnesses—Will and Greg—while the audience, which included the vast majority of everyone on Mars, applauded.

A reception line formed to congratulate the couple, then everyone headed to Yalta for the wedding dinner, a sumptuous meal that was basically a very early supper for everyone. The wedding party stayed in Riviera for a while to take photographs, then entered Yalta to the applause of the assembled crowd. Clinking glasses forced the couple to kiss right away several times. Then everyone went through the buffet line and filled their plates.

“I’m amazed you’ve got this much good food!” exclaimed Gerhard Bach to Will, as he joined the commander at his table.

“We won’t be eating much meat for four sols, I think, and the desserts won’t be very fancy either, until next weekend.”

“Are there more weddings scheduled then?”

Will nodded. “Two on Satursol: Kevin Dunbar’s marrying Andrea Shelton at 1, then Arieh Freeman marries Sheila Burns at 2. We’ll have the reception at 3, as usual.”

“Plus the three weddings this weekend, and the two at Cassini last weekend and the weekend before; a lot of folks are tying the knot.”

“And Jennie Dunbar married Ernesto Gomes three weeks ago, and Cornelius Beyer married Tatiana Gavrilova last year. Columbus 6 has seen nine marrriages! Which I suppose means that Columbus 7 and 8 will see about that many children.”

“It warms your heart, doesn’t it, you sentimental fool,” exclaimed Ethel.

Will nodded. “It does.”

Bach pointed. “That’s Dan Shapiro, right? You’ve let him out for this event?”

“He’s been a model prisoner, so he got some time off for good behavior. He’s proved to be a very good Prospector driver from his quarters, and he runs them about fourteen hours a sol. Frankly, I wish we didn’t have to ship him back to Earth; he’s a very hard worker. He and Ruth would prefer to stay as well, but he can’t, obviously.”

“Will he spend time in prison?”

“That’s up to the judge after he arrives. Probably a year or so. Then the Mars Commission conceivably might hire him for a job that doesn’t involve the handling of money.”

Bach looked around. “But Stoughton’s not here?”

“No, he didn’t know the couple very well, they didn’t ask for him, and besides, he hasn’t been quite as cooperative. He’s gotten better in the last few months, but he’s still in a state of denial, even about aspects of the case for which there is indisputable evidence.”

Bach pointed to Emily Scoville and Muhammad Rahmani. “Those newlyweds seem to be doing well.”

“Yes. I’m glad they descended from the Dacha to attend this wedding.”

“I’m surprised Emily is wearing a headscarf, though.”

“It’s part of her new religion, after all.”

“They came down from the dacha for Louise and Eliseo’s wedding yestersol. They’re flying back to Cassini on Monsol.”

“I’m glad you were able to get up here for both weddings, too,” added Will.

“Louise and Eliseo made an important contribution to Cassini, and besides, I wanted to get away and relax a bit. I plan to spend a few sols up at the dacha as well later in the week.”

“Congratulations on beating Consolidated, by the way.”

Bach smiled. “Thank you. It was a sweet victory. But we barely squeaked ahead, and their gold output may rise a bit faster than ours. It’ll be interesting to see what we can do during Columbus 7. The richest concentrations are just about exhausted, so we may barely match our exports this year, even with twice as much equipment and staff.”

“Oh, you’ll do better than that, I think.” Will turned to Enlai Tang, who was approaching the table.

“Will, yestersol we got very interesting samples back from the fossil location in Schiaparelli Basin,” he said. “It’s got three new species we’ve never identified before; it looks to me that Lake Schiaparelli was an isolated ecosystem for quite some time.”

“Oh? Let’s schedule a visit, then. It’s not far off the Circumnavigational.” The samples had been obtained by Prospector; no human had visited yet.

“Say, Enlai, what’s the scoop about all the Chinese leaving?” asked Bach. “Someone hinted to me the Chinese government recalled them.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. The government has decided it prefers Chinese astronauts to stay here two columbiads only, then return home. But Li Qingtian and the Wangs will all tell you they decided to return anyway, and the Wangs have been here only one columbiad. I, for one, plan to stay at least another columbiad. In my opinion, the government position is short sighted. If this place ever does gain significant size and cultural momentum, it’s in China’s interests to have its people involved. Otherwise Mars becomes more American looking; no offense meant, Will.”

“Oh, I understand your point,” replied Will.

“So do I,” added Bach. “And I agree with you very much. We need more Chinese here.”

“There are four coming on Columbus 7, all geologists and biologists.”

“Good.”

“We’ll talk about the Schiaparelli fossils on Monsol, Enlai. We’ll schedule a visit then. I suppose you want to go along?”

“Most definitely!”

“Good, then you will.”

“Thanks. See you Monsol.” Enlai waved and headed back to his table.

“We have three Chinese leaving,” Will said to Gerhard. “Out of seven flying back to Earth. I asked your question through channels, by the way, and got even less than what you just got.”

“I’m not surprised!” Bach smiled. “So, Columbus 7’s forty people will include four more from Muller, five more from Consolidated, and six from Sibereco.”

“Yes, plus thirteen mining support staff, six Americans supporting Bio-Archive—two plastics fabricators and three ecologists—and another two American nuclear engineers. The result is the least diverse flight we’ve had in a very long time. A lot of couples are coming, too; the various governments and companies are planning long-term.”

“At least the Bio-Archive concept is catching on. I hear Russia wants to try it, and the Japanese are signed up for Columbus 8.”

“Yes, that idea has some momentum to it, surprisingly enough.”

“A shame that Cassini won’t get any, though.”

Will smiled. “Oh, we may share the wealth yet, don’t worry. Aurorae has the most number of people and could use the extra space the most, but if we get more biomes to archive species, I’m sure we’ll put some at Cassini and Dawes, especially as they grow.”

“That’s a relief. Not only does Cassini need the space and the redundancy; I need to look at more greenery!”

“I understand. We only had greenhouses for our first six years here, and it was enough to drive us crazy.”

Will rose to get a second helping of beef, which was quite good. He ran into Dr. Qingtian Li at the buffet table. “So, are you ready to command Columbus 6?”

“Thank you, I am feeling more confident. I plan to devote all of the next few weeks going over the systems again, and training the crew; well, minus the two prisoners.”

“We may want to include them in the training as well. It’d make them feel more a part of the team, will give them skills that might be essential in an emergency, and will improve their likelihood of being helpful.”

“Definitely, I would prefer that.”

Will nodded. “I’ll talk to the Commission about it.” He filled his plate and walked back to his seat. He stopped at Greg Harris’s table. “Father Greg, are you enjoying the reception?”

“Yes, of course, even if there’s no alcohol! You Bahá'ís should change that rule.”

Will smiled. “No thanks. I guess people can be thankful they can drink from 7 p.m. Frisol to 3 a.m. Sunsol. I have my doubts whether even that’s wise.”

“I know what you mean,” agreed Greg. “It is a questionable situation; we have too much high-tech equipment here. I suppose the new Mars Council can take up the matter.”

“If we can get it formed,” agreed Will. “It’s looking likely the land owners will settle their differences about representation today or tomorrow, so maybe we’ll have the last piece in place pretty soon.”

“That would be welcome news. We have a good design for governance, Will. I think it’ll make people rethink their habits on Earth.”

“I hope so, but it hasn’t helped the land owners rethink their habits!”

Greg laughed. “True enough. I guess we had better work on them, first.”

Will walked toward his table. He stopped to chat with Lal and Radha; their baby smiled at him and reached out, so he gave her a kiss. Next was a visit with Eammon, Lisa, and their three kids; the twins were almost two years old and becoming very chatty. Last week Lisa had just discovered she was pregnant with their fourth child. Will spoke briefly to John Hunter, Sun-Hee Jung, and Susan Jung as well. Then he returned to his table.

Soon the buffet table was cleared away—the pigs would have particularly rich choices the next sol—and the wedding cake came out. Then dancing followed; a live band provided the music.

At 5:30 p.m., the bride and groom waved goodbye and were showered with rice as they headed to Joseph Hall. As they were about to exit Yalta, Eammon began to wave his attaché. “Hey, there’s a news bulletin!” he shouted. “The landowners have struck a compromise! They’re forming two associations, one for individual landowners and one for corporate landowners!” He paused to listen a moment; there was a piece in his ear. “But they’re electing twenty-five representatives to the Landowner’s Assembly based on one vote per owner, and twenty-five based on one vote per share!”

“Good news!” exclaimed Greg.

“Amazing!” added Érico.

Eammon raised his hand. “Oh, but they didn’t approve the election of a Prime Minister!”

“They didn’t?” exclaimed Will. “But they approved the rest?”

“Apparently,” said Eammon. “We’ll have watch it to hear all the details.”

“Let’s say goodbye to the bride and groom and get the big screen on,” suggested Will.

“Good bye?” replied Kim Irion. “I’m not leaving yet, with news like this!”

“Spoken like the major Mars enthusiast that you are!” added Ananda.

“She stepped off the shuttle her first sol singing ‘This Land is My Land,’” noted Will. “You’ve got time to get to the Dacha.”

Everyone headed back to the patio, where the large television screen was immediately switched to the Mars cable channel. It was rebroadcasting the BBC coverage, which reiterated the news. The property owners had approved of the resident’s Council and a Governor appointed by the Commission.

“It was premature to push for a Prime Minister,” said Will, shrugging.

“Morgan was opposed, wasn’t he?” stated Alexandra. Will nodded slightly.

“I think the owners felt that since they were on Earth, a Commission based on Earth was more likely to favor their interests than a Prime Minister elected and serving on Mars,” he replied.

“Still, we have a planet-wide civil government; that’s quite an achievement,” exclaimed Érico. “Who would have thought we’d get that, twelve years after the first landing.”

“It’s historic,” agreed Kim. She stood. “Let’s sing!” she exclaimed, and immediately launched into the song Will and Roger had spontaneously created years earlier:

This land is your land, this land is my land,

From Tharsis Montes to the Hellas Basin,

From the cratered highlands to the Mariner valleys,

This land was made for you and me.

And everyone laughed after they sang it a second time, then applauded quite enthusiastically. Will looked around, a bit surprised; he hadn’t realized that the residents felt so positively about the development. But over three months had passed since the Mars Planning Conference, and in that time there had been a lot of discussion on the Mars listservers and message boards, not to mention frequent reports from the Committee to Formulate a Fundamental Law—the euphemism they were using instead of “Constitution”—and a lot of town meeting time to discuss progress. The town meetings of Aurorae and Cassini had ratified the Fundamental Law just two weeks earlier; the final hurdle was approval by the landowners.

Until they acted, the vote by the residents had felt quite abstract. Now their act to define a system of self-government suddenly felt very real. Will found himself cheering as well. He looked at Ethel; she was thrilled as well. He leaned over and kissed her. “This place has a future.”

“Did you ever doubt it?”

“No.”

Kim jumped on the stage below the television screen. “I have an idea. Let’s go outside and raise the Mars flag on the flagpole to celebrate the beginning of the Commonwealth of Mars!”

There were cheers at that idea, but many people immediately looked at the Commander, who was responsible for the American flag that had flown over the public park at the base of Face Rock for the last decade.

“We’ll lose a hundred million or so of Congressional support if we do this, won’t we, Will?” said Alexandra.

“Yes,” said Will. He smiled. “But this is a request from the bride, after all. We should honor her request.”

There was a loud cheer and applause at that. Many turned toward Joseph Hall, which had one set of airlocks. Others headed toward Clarke Dome, to cross through to habitats 1 and 3 and their spacesuit donning facilities and airlocks.

“Dad, can I go outside, too?” asked Marshall, excitedly.

Will looked at Ethel, who looked worried, but not opposed. He smiled. “Sure. Why not. This is an historical event.”

“There won’t be enough windows for the kids and their parents to watch through, if the kids all stay inside,” added Ethel. “I’ll stay in. Liz and I can watch from Renfrew Hall.”

Will nodded. “We’ve never had seventy or eighty people outside before. This should be interesting.”

“It’ll take an hour for everyone to get outside. Better hurry,” added Ethel.

Will nodded. He led Marshall toward Clark Dome. Kim saw him and hurried over. “I hope I haven’t started a revolution!”

“In a sense, you have, but that’s alright.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’re right. The time has come to change the flag. If we all go outside, it’ll make quite a statement.”

“I’m afraid I’ve postponed the honeymoon,” she said to Ananda.

He shrugged. Will shook his head. “You can drive up to the Dacha after sunset, if you need to. We can send an escort of two other rangers to accompany you, and they can accompany each other back down. We’ll get you to the top of the Escarpment, don’t worry.”

They all headed toward the airlocks. Marshall was soon plunged into the world of the male locker room, with a dozen half-dressed men trying to help him and Sammie all at once to get into their space suits, for Roger had brought his son along as well. Everyone was testing backpacks, checking pressure seals, verifying the suits’ computers and their automated testing routines. Groups of five or six were clopping out of the locker room in their suits and squeezing into the airlock to exit.

By the time Will and Marshall got out, quite a crowd had formed. The sun was just minutes above the western horizon; a nearly full Phobos was high above the eastern horizon and dropping toward its setting in about an hour. The radio buzzed with a hundred conversations on the common channel. Will called Marshall’s cell phone, which was plugged into the suit, so they could talk privately and listen to the common buzz at the same time.

Kimberley and Ananda were nearly the last ones to emerge from Joseph Hall’s airlock; a wedding gown took a long time to remove. Kim had put her veil back on outside the helmet; it looked funny, but she was unmistakable. She was bearing the Mars flag she had brought from Earth. It was a rusty red field with white circles on the right and left sides representing the polar caps. Two yellow stars flew above the white circle where the flag rested along the flagpole, representing Phobos and Deimos. In the middle there had been a single green star representing Aurorae Outpost, but Will was surprised to see that Kim had modified the flag at some point in the last two years, for it now bore two green stars.

She walked to the flagpole, ignoring the neat paths in the public park at the base of Face Rock and tramping directly on the geometric patterns Madhu had laid out with black basalt, reddish hematite, greenish malachite, yellowish sandstone, and white salt. Will turned toward Renfrew Hall and scanned the faces he could see there, to see whether Madhu was watching. But there wasn’t much that could be done because the park had been laid out to be visited by small groups of people, not the entire Outpost at once. The damage was easily fixed, anyway.

Kim reached the flagpole and untied the rope. She lowered the American flag and with great care, even reverence, and removed it. She and Roger, who happened to be close by, carefully folded it according to proper flag etiquette. Then she took the Mars flag from Ananda and hooked it on the rope. The two of them slowly raised it to the top of the pole, where it fluttered in the late afternoon breeze.

“To the Commonwealth of Mars!” Kim exclaimed.

A great cheer went up through the gathered crowd. The muffled sound of applause from spacesuited gloves echoed across the common channel and through the thin air. Inside Renfrew Hall, the crowd that had not come out was applauding as well. Will looked at Bach and Curry nearby and both were clapping, though he wondered whether it was out of politeness. Will glanced at the crude profile of a human face that one could see in the silhouette of Face Rock if one were standing in the right place. He was in the right place and was surprised to notice that the evening sun, glancing across the side of the face, made it look almost like it was smiling. Mars itself seemed to be participating in the celebration as the inhabitants of Aurorae Outpost cheered the beginning of the Commonwealth’s civil government.

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