Chapter 10a: Nuath

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Chapter 10 (part 1)

Nuath (NOO-ath): the underground human colony on Mars

"I feel like I understand the American perspective a lot better now," Molly said several nights later, when we finally finished going over everything we'd covered so far in U.S. History.

"You're a good teacher, M." Sean grinned at me as he flipped his book closed. "Thanks."

"I'm glad I could help." I was almost sorry we were done. I'd enjoyed my visits to their house more than I'd expected to, especially the parts where I learned more about Mars. I was also becoming better friends with Molly . . . and with Sean.

As though he'd read my thoughts, Sean said, "You know, you don't have to tell your aunt we're caught up. There must be more you want to know, plus there's still lots of stuff you can tell us about America—and Earth. Stuff that everyone takes for granted."

My eagerness at learning more Martian stuff battled with wariness, in case Rigel was right about Sean. Even after Rigel and I spent that magical Thursday afternoon together, then another hour Saturday, he was definitely still jealous. I'd even sensed it in church, when the O'Garas showed up and sat with us and the Stuarts—and Sean didn't even try to sit next to me.

"Worth a try," I said after only the briefest hesitation. "So, what else can you tell me about Mars?"

Sean laughed. "That's like asking, 'What else can you tell us about Earth?' Where would you start?"

"Good point." I relaxed, laughing along with him. "Let's see. You've already told me some political stuff and your parents gave me a little Nuathan history when I was here Sunday night. But what was it like to actually live there? I still can't quite imagine it."

"You'll, um, you'd love it there, M." Sean spoke with conviction. "Of course, things got a little crazy the year before we left, but most of our time growing up was great. I really miss it sometimes."

Molly nodded eagerly. "Me, too. And he's right, you'd love it! Everybody's super friendly. And . . . you never have to hide what you really are."

"That must get old, huh?" Sean asked.

It was cool that he understood. "Sometimes. But . . . what is it like there? I mean, the entire colony is underground, right? Isn't it weird living your whole life in . . . in caves?" How could anyone miss that?

They started laughing again. "It's really not like that at all," Molly assured me. "Actually, it looks a little like Ireland—we were surprised how much when we moved there last year."

"But isn't there a . . . a ceiling?"

"There is," Sean admitted. "I mean, we all know it's there, but it's about a mile up, and disguised to look exactly like the sky on Earth, with clouds, and stars at night and everything."

"Disguised?"

"Holographically," Sean clarified.

I'd seen the omni's little holographic screen, so I guessed that made sense. "So . . . like being inside a really, really big domed stadium with video screens on the ceiling?"

"Maybe, but it doesn't feel like that," Molly said. "It just feels like being . . . outside. Where we lived, there's even grass and sheep and stuff."

"Sheep?" Okay, maybe not like a huge cavern or an underground spaceship, which is what I'd been imagining. "You have sheep?"

"Well, not us, personally," Molly admitted, "but people do."

"So Nuath isn't just one big city?"

She shook her head, smiling at my confusion. "There are two big towns—well, not so big by Earth standards—plus a couple dozen villages, spread out over nearly four hundred square miles."

"Four hundred—!" These new images were completely shattering my preconceptions.

"That's only twenty miles in each direction," Sean pointed out. "She means area, not diameter. You're taking Geometry, right?"

His tone was teasing and I gave him a mock glare. "Yeah, okay. But still, twenty miles . . . underground . . ." I shook my head again. "Are there, like, pillars or something, holding up the roof?"

"Antigravity supports," Sean said. "There are physical supports, too, but not many. They're not necessary."

It sounded kind of dangerous to me. "But what if the, uh, power died or something? Wouldn't the ceiling collapse?"

"It's worked for almost three thousand years," Molly pointed out. "Plus there's a lot of redundancy built in, just to be safe. Really, it's not something we even think about."

"Besides," Sean said, "it seems safer to me than having a sky that goes all the way out into space, where anything could just fall on you." He gave an almost imperceptible shudder.

I started to laugh, but stopped when I saw he looked embarrassed. "The only thing that's ever fallen out of the sky here has been rain, sleet and snow. Okay, and sometimes hail."

He didn't seem particularly reassured. "Even that . . . Guess I'm still not used to the idea. Hey, do you want to see some pictures?"

That distracted me immediately, as he'd probably intended. "Pictures? Definitely!"

Sean grinned at my enthusiasm. "Just a sec." He pulled his omni out of his pocket and pulled up the screen, touched a button or two and a photo—or maybe a video—popped up. I could swear it was three-dimensional.

"Wow," I murmured, examining what looked like a village street with reddish stone houses on either side. There were glimpses of green countryside in the background. In the foreground, a red-haired young woman and a dark-haired girl stood waving—literally waving—next to one of the houses. I realized with a start that the girl was Molly.

"That's me with Elana," she told me. "Just a few weeks before she . . . disappeared. And that's our house. Or, well, it was." She looked away from the picture.

I put a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up sad memories."

"It's not your fault, M." Sean sounded a little choked up, too. "I'm the one who pulled up that pic. Sorry, Moll. Here, I'll—"

"Sean?" Mrs. O'Gara came into the room, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry to pull you away, but one of your teammates is on the phone and he said it was important."

Sean stood, putting the omni back in his pocket, to my disappointment. "Coming, Mum, thanks. Back in a minute," he added to Molly and me as he left the room. 

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