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Chapter 1
Vanessa
My boss, Franklin, rushed into the kitchen of Dria’s Diner where I worked.
“You’ve gotta come see this on TV,” he said. “It’s happening!”
After sliding the burger I’d just finished cooking from the grill and onto a bun, adding the requested toppings and a generous side of fries, I slid the plate onto the window between the kitchen and the guest area of the diner.
I tapped the bell. “Order’s up.”
A server hustled over to grab the plate while I followed Franklin into the dining area and looked up at the TV mounted in the corner. Guests had stopped eating and gazed as raptly as Franklin at the screen.
“It’s about the upcoming launch,” he said. “You don’t want to missthis.”
“They’re sending a bunch of scientists to Mars in a few weeks,” one of the customers seated on a high-top at the bar said, his face glowing in the yellow lights humming above the island. He braced his forearms on the shiny counter. “What of it? I can’t see why tonight’s special.”
“They’re testing the propulsion systems,” Franklin said. “If they work, the project’s a go. They’ve been loading supplies in the hull for months. The crew will ride partway in stasis, then the rest of the time, they’ll check out the view of the stars. Marvel at planets they pass. Get ready to start building the new colony on Mars. It’s basically Star Trek come to life. How can you not be as into that as me?”
“Beam me up?” a woman quipped from beside the guy at the island, and they clinked their drinks together, laughing.
Franklin’s shoulders deflated, but only for a moment before he shored them up again with his never-ending excitement. “You know what I mean. After the systems are ready, it’s just a matter of fine-tuning everything else and loading the nonperishable food inside. It’s gonna bereal. We’re going to settle some people on Mars and form our first colony. I tell ya, if I was younger,” he stroked back his thinning gray hair, “and fitter. And smarter. Well, I’d be volunteering to be one of the first settlers.”
“They’re only going to send people with the right skills,” the woman said. “I doubt running a diner is one of them.”
“In the olden days, people like me ran inns for travelers.” Franklin’s chest puffed with pride. “Pubs like my diner were valued. Mark my words, there’ll be inns in the new settlement eventually. Stores and movie theaters. Dance halls.” He frowned. “Maybe dance halls. People love that kind of thing, and they want the colony to feel like home.”
As much as it could feel that way on a planet far from Earth. I wasn’t sure if I’d go even if I was offered a spot, which I wouldn’t be. I liked having my feet planted firmly on the ground. Besides, I’d never meet the stringent criteria. I wasn’t a rocket scientist, and I was curvy. Okay, I was extra curvy.
“I think the whole thing is cool,” I said. Franklin was a good guy, and there was no harm in supporting his latest hobby. “Can you imagine what it will look like? A red planet. Craters. New dishes to create from the vegetation they’ll grow within the hydroponic chambers.” I rubbed my hands together at the thought.
I was taking classes at the community college, studying culinary arts. I wanted to be a chef. There was nothing wrong with working at the diner. I was grateful for the job. But I kept dreaming about opening my own restaurant, of crafting amazing dishes in a pristine kitchen for people who’d rave about the spices I used and the perfect way I’d prepared their meal.
It wouldn’t be in outer space, but I was more than okay with that.
“There’s great wealth on Mars,” Franklin gushed, warming to the subject. A few customers smiled, humoring him, but many nodded quite seriously. “All those new minerals. There must be gemstones and maybe even that planet’s version of gold.”
“I’m thinking of the plants and ways to test them to see if we can eat them,” I said. “Someone could open up a restaurant there and serve all-Mars dishes.”
Franklin nodded. “We could do it together.”
Laughing, we high-fived each other.
After moving to Chicago, I could’ve done worse than land this job. Franklin had given me a chance and hadn’t pressed hard when I told him I couldn’t provide more than my driver’s license for ID. On the run from a jerky ex, I’d left without much more than my coat and the wad of cash I’d stolen from his fireproof safe. I’d hopped on a bus and planned to hide for the rest of my life—or until my ex forgot I’d ever existed.
On the TV, the camera crew panned back from the ship perched on the launching platform, gliding across the AI robocops guarding the high, electrified fence. The odds of anyone getting past the cops were pretty much zero, and even if you somehow did, the fence would fry you to a crisp.
AI robocops had been introduced by a billionaire entrepreneur about a year ago, and they’d quickly taken over most of our city’s police protection units. They might cost a boatload of money to buy, but they didn’t need much maintenance, they could work 24/7, and they explicitly followed the law. No more cops going rogue and killing some kid with a toy pistol or complaining because they didn’t want to work overtime.
Now they patrolled the streets of all the major cities, and crime had gone way down. Who’d challenge a robot who could outrun, outthink, and outsmart you before you could finish committing the crime? We all felt a bunch safer.
The show ended on the TV, cutting to a commercial.
Franklin was lifting the remote to turn it down, and I was heading back to the kitchen to prepare new orders when the front door of the diner slammed open.
Robocops poured in, their electronic, glowing red eyes sweeping across the room.
A red bead of light focused on my chest, and my hand froze on the door to the kitchen. I turned and backed against it, nearly falling into the room beyond.
