//------------------------------// // Sol 234 // Story: The Maretian // by Kris Overstreet //------------------------------// AMICITAS FLIGHT THREE – MISSION DAY 236 ARES III SOL 234 Starlight Glimmer looked at her math one more time. Six batteries were sequestered for making more batteries. At a recharge rate of six percent per day (a little less than that, really, since the new alfalfa plantings were still immature and the potato plants Dragonfly had eaten to make her cocoon had generally not sprouted back), the six batteries would make four new ones at full strength, with a comfortable power margin, every eighteen days. Three batteries (two regular ones and the half-power prototype) stayed at the Hab for immediate use. The Hab’s farm, being slower, only added a little to the recharge provided by the permanent inhabitants, giving the batteries a four percent per day recharge rate. This left, for the moment, a bank of ten batteries to be used for major projects, to be swapped out when one of the hab batteries had to be completely drained, or- most important, now- providing a brief daily dose of magic energy for all the occupants of the cave, including the cocooned Dragonfly. If the batteries were all full (they weren’t- the harvest, the dismantling of the engines, the engine test, and the fact that four of them were made only a couple of days before explained that), then the daily charges of nine of them would add up to fifty-four percent of the capacity of the tenth. That meant one battery could be rigged for field projection and run for about seventeen minutes, then connected in series to the others and recharged from them. But since the batteries were not in fact full, that seventeen minutes became eight. If Mars had taught them anything it was that magic power could never be taken for granted, and you could never have enough of it. It collected in the batteries slowly and discharged so fast you could watch the manameter dropping. And major workings, cast in a dire emergency, could- and in the past did- wipe out four or eight or however many batteries in a single spell. You couldn’t burn a whole day’s charging on a few minutes of magic, not if you wanted the juice to be there when you really, desperately needed a spell to prevent disaster. So. Eight minutes. There ought to be something productive she could do with the magic field during the eight minutes it would run today. Unfortunately she couldn’t think of any. Mending spells would suck up most of the field, and anyway they had nothing recently enough broken for the spell to be effective. There wasn’t enough power to spare yet to make a new battery, even if they’d brought a casing for one. She could gather salt… but the soil in the cave had had quite enough stuff magically yanked out already. “Mark,” she said to the human sitting beside the cocoon, helmet off but the rest of his suit still on, “I need a timer for eight minutes.” “Okay, can do.” Mark’s suit had two display modes: a keyboard and micro-monitor on one arm, and a larger heads-up display projected inside the helmet. For this application the helmet wasn’t required, and Mark punched keys for a little bit before saying, “Ready to go on your mark.” “Now,” Starlight said, and as Mark hit the button to start the countdown she switched the battery to discharge, sending arcs of pure mana up the improvised aerials. The colors around them lost their washed-out, ghostly appearance, becoming what they ought to be. The cave felt a little bit more like home, a feeling that ran down into Starlight’s bones. Home. Heh. At home she’d have been able to think of something useful to do with magic. But at home there was all sorts of magic, all sorts of possibilities. Before she realized it, she began singing: Home I can’t help but feel its pull Where everything’s magical There’s nothing that’s impossible If I were home If I were home The spells I’d cast would hypnotize Rainbow lights to fill the skies Nobody would believe their eyes If I were home The magic field swirled slightly, and Cherry Berry, caught in the eddy, sang as well. If I were home My pleasures would be plain and few I’d eat a cherry, maybe two There’s nothing I couldn’t do If I were home The field’s ripples caught Spitfire in their grip next, and she completed the verse: If I were home I’d fly straight back to my home town I’d soar the skies for miles around You’d never get me back to ground If I were home The three ponies joined in harmony for the chorus: Home You’re so close and yet so far away We miss you more each and every day We go to bed every night saying I want to go home The magic light of the arcing mana battery sparkled across the crystals around and above them, and as the colored lights glittered music began to play, a tinkling, chiming music that echoed from the crystals, sweet and yet lonesome beyond words. The magic swept up Mark, which to Starlight’s sight took a double wrap around him before his untrained voice managed to find the tune and the words: If I were home I’d spend a week just going outside Get in my car and enjoy the ride All of my wishes satisfied If I were home Fireball, the most resistant to magic songs, was the last to be caught up, his voice deeper and rougher than the others, but perfectly suited for the moment. If I were home Back to my cave and I’d walk right in I wouldn’t leave it ever again My wandering would be at an end If I were home Another chorus, as the crystal chimes played sweeping glissandos and arpeggios behind the astronaut voices, all woven together by the unleashed magic: Home (the third planet from the sun) Back to the place where we belong (Had my mission, now I’m done) Never meant to stay away this long Wouldn’t have to sing this song If we were home The music subsided a bit, swimming around the theme for a moment as Cherry Berry wandered over to Dragonfly’s cocoon. She laid a hoof on it and sang: If you were home You wouldn’t have to stay in there You could run and fly without a care You’d do what no one else would dare If you were home And Starlight took the rest of the verse, as the others hummed agreement to her words: If I were home I’d have options without end I’d spend more time with my friends I’d see my father once again If I were home The music rose again as five voices (Mark echoing the pony voices) sang their homesickness in perfect tune with the sounds of light glinting off quartz: Home (over two hundred million miles) Back in the arms of the ones we love (I close my eyes and see their smiles) Safe return from the stars above What wouldn’t we do if only we could go home The music ceased its swooping, picking clean, distinct notes as the song bounced from singer to singer in a building frenzy: Wake at dawn to go ballooning Eat a gem and sleep till noon-ing Fly a kite up to the cloudtops Swoop so low I scatter dewdrops Walk the beach at Galveston Surf lava from dusk till dawn Ride the train to anywhere Read a book, Wash my hair Los Pegasus, Magnificent Mile See the world, Rest a while Cherries, pizza, ruby ice cream Luna guarding every dream Baseball games at Wrigley Park The way the stars shine after dark The crystal music crashed together, as did the singers’ voices, as the song reached its climax: To see again familiar places To see the smiles on people’s faces The fact that cannot be erased is This rusty rock in outer space is So far So very, very far… The music died for a moment as the singers named their homes: Dragonlands Chicago Cloudsdale Ponyville So far, and yet so close If I were home Softly, bittersweetly, the five voices sang the last words, the cave chimed its last chimes, and then the magic released them, replacing the music pulled out of their hearts with the silence of Mars. “Um,” Mark muttered, reluctantly breaking the moment, “maybe we should turn the battery off?” “Let it run to the timer,” the unicorn said. “The song just dropped us. Turning off the magic right now would drop us harder.” “Yeah. Yeah, I can get behind that,” Mark said. “I mean, it’s one thing to watch you guys doing that, but to become a part of it-“ “We don’t talk about it,” Starlight Glimmer said. “Ever,” Fireball added with emphasis. “I don’t blame you,” Mark said. “I don’t think I have words for what I just… I mean, wow. The words were just… well, I guess they came from the same place the music-“ “Mark?” “Yeah, Starlight?” “When I said we don’t talk about it, I meant stop talking about it.” “Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that.”