It all seemed remotely new

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It had to be me. After all the millions of miles in space, and not to mention the agonizing wait to see someone's ass back up on Mars, it still had to be me. And that last taco did not help. Not in the least bit.

The room started emptying out, scantily at first, followed by people just shoving each other out-of-the-way. I must admit I had a weird feeling since dawn. That extra mile on the treadmill seemed adventurous at first. The doctor even recommended it. Now, I began see why. Another consultation, another 50 dollars down his pocket. That capitalistic son-of-a-bitch, I knew it. Breakfast seemed okay, but I should have taken the hint not to leave for work. The frequent runs to the garden surely was big sign. How did I miss that?

Anyway, I was late by 20 minutes or so and you know all about me and waiting. In two words, it sucks. Yeah, ask NASA. I cycled to work on Fridays, but that morning I decided to take the shuttle. It takes about half an hour to the Watney Space Academy (yeah I got mine baby. In your face Neil Armstrong, again) from home with some minor traffic. It was unusually crowded down Posting Street that morning, another possible sign I should have cancelled today's lecture. Those stupid kids knew everything nowadays anyway. The movie adaptations of my 'miraculous' escape from the tentacles of death in Mars. Was I actually hit by a comms device dart or did an alien snap me, to perform experiments and let their 'face-grabbers' lose on Earth? The sequels I tell you. I was portrayed by the best actors at the time. Sometimes as a space cowboy, hunting rogue androids, or a solo maverick, out to battle against an evil galactic monarch.

I always chuckled at the feeble attempts to 'create' outer space. They recruited me on several of their projects, dimwits with bold ideas. Stupid ideas. Who ever heard of sound in space? Some Lucas guy asked me if that could be ignored. I ignored his calls after that. Again, capitalistic sons-of-even-more-capitalistic-she-wolves.

The bus was crawling now. My comms screen buzzed under my coat. Shit, the office calling. Annie must have known I would be late. I should have peddled and I was cursing myself. The driver stopped the shuttle and I saw my chance. I got down at the junction of Posting Street and Booster Road (don't blame me for the cheesy street names). Annie was calling again. I had to answer.

'Mark Watney, where is God's name are you,' Annie furiously spat down the other end. God's name? Really? Let me see, which of the 300 million of her gods should I choose from? Oh, Annie or Anita Nagen is a Hindu, partly really. Her father is the lead scientist on the latest missions to Titan and Europa, and she is the lead cheerleader. Basically, she is the terminal manager, oh and my wife.

'Honey,' I always start with that if I need to apologize. 'I was on the bus today. Something came up on the way..'

'The bus? I thought you hated petroleum run vehicles. Your save-the-world policy on pause?' she taunted back.

'Very funny. Ha-ha. I was running late and.. '

'I know that,' she cut me again.' You should glance more at your watch than at my butt or my private blog'. Damn she was a straight taker, and a bold one for that. I loved her for it. But right now, I was getting a little cranky.

'Yeah, sorry about that, but Orion didn't seem too well today. I needed to see if he was doing okay. He was throwing up all over and...'

'Throwing up!' Again. 'Did you at least leave the slide door open for him? He'll be all over the furniture otherwise.'

Shit. I didn't. 'Um, yeah, yeah. I did. I totally did.' I was stammering. There was a long pause. She knew it. I was screwed.

'Mark? Are you sure?'

Balls. I had to head back. I hung up abruptly, texted Joe, my assistant, to cancel the morning session and started my long walk back home. Orion was purring angrily by the time opened the door. He had thrown up in his bowl, testimony to his highly rated intelligence. He was in agony, poor chap. I did call the vet, who recommended he walk it off. Physical activity often led to good bowel movement he said. Orion certainly did not look like he wanted to go for a walk. So the gym it was. After half a mile, he stopped walking. That was it. I grabbed my cycle keys, clipped Orion's collar on and was off to the vet, which is where I started off with you.

Orion had quietly sneaked into the kitchen last night and finished off the last fish taco we'd ordered from our local Mexican joint. Safe to say, Mexican food and cat were not made for each other. Orion had been letting out from his mouth all morning. That was when he decided to let one past his bottom, and nuke the room.

'Mr. Gaitner?', the nurse came calling from inside. Everyone had left, but me. 'Yes, coming.' I followed her inside. Orion's stomach was pumped. Turns out, he had swallowed a large hairball for dessert last night. I left him at the clinic and cycled back to work as soon as I could. Posting Street was still held up, so I took the detour through Eden Park to the academy's backyard, where I held all my afternoon classes. My students were already sitting underneath the bougainvillea. I liked this part of my life now, sitting in the open, enjoying the fresh artificial air and heat. It reminded me of home 200 million miles away. To my grandpa's garden in Pennsylvania. To Annie's home, whose backyard had an entire mango orchard. The green color appeals the most to the human eye. It was only apt that nature draped itself in that emerald hue.

'Sir, you seem distant today,' Joshua startled me. I looked at him. He had just turned 16 and hence rendered eligible for the program. Born in world so far from the one his parents set out into. Literally. I looked at the others. So were they. All 22 of them. 11 couples from different ethnicities, cultures and geographies. They were not from the world of old, from my world. I looked up at the sky, and there it was. A faint blue against the murky red sky outside the hyper-dome, twinkling in the setting sun. Earth.

Joshua wouldn't understand. He was conceived in outer space, on the way to Mars in fact, like all the kids of his generation. We were in our 17th complete year on the red planet, completing God knows how many Sols now. You see, we began leaving Earth, about five years after I was rescued. The Ares missions continued and soon enough, we found ways to settle here permanently. I know you might be having tons of questions right now. How did we survive the radiation? And what about food, and water, and oxygen? Well, all that was the easy stuff, and I promise to explain it all. But first, let me answer Joshua.

Yes I am, kid. I left my heart at home, and no one in this fucking world can rescue it for me. Or I should have said.

I looked at the rest. 'It's nothing. Orion's sick, just worried about him.' A ring of 'awws' went up. That's cute, they think. A sixty-something man, caring for his poor little cat. Wait till I tell them what they were training for.




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