Life on Mars: Tales from the New Frontier
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Mars! The Red Planet! For generations, people have wondered what it would be like to travel to and live there. That curiosity has inspired some of the most durable science fiction, including Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles and the work of Isaac Asimov. Now the award-winning anthologist Jonathan Strahan has brought together thirteen original stories to explore the possibilities. After reading Life on Mars, readers will never look at the fourth planet from the sun the same way again.
water to get you through two days, and maybe some supplementary oxygen in case cabin pressure drops. You’ve got all that, haven’t you? Silly question, really. A clever looking girl like you wouldn’t have stowed away on a cargo airship without the necessary provisions.” Yukimi held up her satchel. “I’ve just got this.” “Ah. And in that would be—what, exactly?” “An apple. And a companion.” She observed the faint flicker of incomprehension on the old man’s forehead. “My diary,” she added. “From
“We need that to navigate properly,” he said. “You just nearly killed me!” “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was . . . I thought you were going to hurt it. It’s . . . it’s like a snail without a shell until it makes a new living shell.” I didn’t lower my wrench. “That’s . . . that’s why it attacked you,” he said. “Then we realized a lot of things.” He paused. “What are you?” “I’m human. A shadow speaker.” I shook my head. “It’s a long story.” He stared at me. I knew he was making up his mind. I’d
for a billion years. She saw nothing, nobody, no vehicles or buildings. She was alone. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She didn’t remember climbing out of the clamshell. Just the looming ground, her fight to bring up the rim of the shell, the punch in the gut as the shell’s underside hit the ground and began to scrape through the dust. . . . She turned around. There was the clamshell, cracked and crumpled. And a gully, hundreds of meters long, cut through the dust where she had crashed and
the game better and harder than anyone else.” “Wait,” I said, confused. “Are you talking about Martian Chronicles or Mars?” She gave me that mysterious look again. “There isn’t really a difference on Mars. Martian Chronicles, Martian life. Why bother coming up with a functional stock market, communications system, and banking system when MC has it all built in? Martian Chronicles was built to model the kind of society that Mars, Inc. and Mars Colony were hoping to build. Why wouldn’t you use it
silent mode. He shivered as the nonessential heating dissipated, leaving bitter cold. What is it, Eo? Tiro asked. Gang convoy, wrote Eo. They’ll be visible in...20...17...15... Gang convoy? Where? Northeast. 5...3... Tiro shrank in his seat as the convoy rumbled past. Skippers zoomed alongside thunders and ground-eaters. Some vehicles were huge, armored like enormous beetles. All were painted red as Mars dust, the color of the landscape, the color of blood. They’re headed toward Sahar’s