Love On Mars Read online




  LOVE ON MARS

  Iván Hernández

  Translated by Rachel Kinlay

  “Love on Mars”

  Written By Iván Hernández

  Copyright © 2013 Iván hernández

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Rachel Kinlay

  © Cover design: Iván Hernández

  © Cover photograph: Nina Malyna - Fotolia.com

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Love on Mars

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  For María,

  Prologue

  When I began to write this novel, it was very clear to me that all I wanted was for my wife, who has always loved romantic novels, to enjoy reading it.

  She has always used this kind of literature to escape from everyday issues, to discover fascinating, new love stories and, above all, happy endings complete with weddings and children.

  But, well, writing a novel like that was going to be strange for a person like me, who likes to get into the human mind and look at why it behaves the way it does. Yet she would probably find that boring, and it would be a little pretentious for me.

  So the only way to take on this project was with a tongue-in-cheek attitude: creating nice characters to make you feel good without worrying too much about scientific credibility – which there was no way I was going to take on in a book of this kind – and taking the whole group of main characters to the well-known but, at the same time, alien planet of Mars.

  I took whatever scientific data was useful to me for telling the story as I wanted to, and invented the rest in a romantic fantasy that could be a B movie.

  The result? Very funny and exciting with love, sex and mystery. Full of motifs from the genre but with a totally new take.

  Ultimately, ‘LOVE ON MARS’ is a normal romantic novel – but with a Martian twist. You’ll see what I mean.

  Without further ado, I leave you with the adventures of Mary Ackerson.

  I hope you like the book as much as my wife does.

  Happy reading!

  Iván Hernández,

  January 2013

  Chapter 1

  “Girls, I have something to tell you.”

  They all remained quiet. Only the breeze in the valley murmured to the nearby stream that something unexpected was about to happen. Mary breathed in and said it straight out:

  “I’m leaving the farm. I’m going to... Mars.”

  Suddenly the geese started cackling. The cows began lowing. They all scrambled around over each other. They didn’t understand why she’d made this decision.

  “Calm down, calm down. There’s nothing to worry about. I won’t leave you on your own. You’ll be well cared for. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time – and, now that I have the chance, I can’t let it pass me by.”

  Mary walked slowly over to the oldest cow.

  “Lucille, I know you understand exactly what I’m saying – and what I’m feeling. This is no place for me. You know that very well.”

  Lucille flicked her tail, scaring off some flies, and that simple animal gesture seemed to show that she understood the young woman.

  “Charlize,” said Mary, squatting down to meet one of the geese at eye-level, “look after your sisters and make sure that they...” (pointing to the cows) “...don’t step on them by mistake, okay?”

  Charlize wobbled clumsily around in front of her and strutted off with an angry air. Mary laughed as she stood up. Then she walked over to the little stable, from which a horse’s head appeared serenely.

  “Copper, we’ve a long journey ahead of us. I hope you’ve rested.”

  Mary opened the door and the horse trotted out ready for the occasion, stopping a few feet ahead of her.

  “Nervous?” she asked as she slung a bag over its back.

  The copper-haired horse shook its head as if to deny this.

  “Sad?”

  Then it whinnied. Mary got onto the horse and walked over to the other farm animals.

  “Behave yourselves, and be very careful with the river – above all when it rains. You know how treacherous the mud is and you could get stuck. And relax: I’m not crazy enough to leave you alone for a long time. You’ll be getting a visit soon.”

  All the animals stood silent and Mary knew it was time to go.

  From his farmhouse porch, Samuel saw a cloud of dust coming along the road.

  “Mary?”

  The young woman got off her horse, which trotted into the field and submerged itself in a sea of brilliant, high, green grasses.

  “Good morning, Samuel. Is that coffee you’re drinking?”

  Mary took the steaming cup from him and sipped it. Then she handed it back to him and walked into the house. Samuel looked around and then followed her.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? I doubt if you’ve come all the way over from your farm just for breakfast.”

  The young woman had already put some jam on bread and was pouring herself a juice.

  “No, Samuel - although I should have done this more often: I’m going to miss your rye bread.”

  Samuel sat down in front of her.

  “Miss? I don’t understand.”

  “Samuel, I’ve come to ask you a favour – a huge favour.”

  The man swallowed, seriously doubting whether he wanted to continue listening. Mary, however, didn’t seem at all concerned and went on chewing her bread and drinking her juice.

  “Well, are you going to explain?” asked Samuel.

  Mary swallowed as best she could.

  “I’m giving you my farm,” she said, glowing.

  “What?”

  “It’s great, isn’t it? You don’t have to thank me...”

  “Thank you? No, no, no, no, no. Hold on. You’re not giving me your farm!”

  “Yes. I am,” said Mary, self-assured and spreading more jam on toast this time.

  “But... Why?”

  “Because I’m not coming back. Is that a good enough reason? The animals need to be cared for and I can’t take them with me. I’m not allowed to. Oh, by the way, you get the horse too.”

  “No, definitely not: not the horse. Hold on, hold on... I still don’t understand all of this. Are you saying, or at least I think you are: that you’re not coming back?”

  Mary nodded and then shook her head.

  “That’s it. By the way, I need you to lend me your van.”

  Samuel snorted and put his elbows on the table. Then he breathed in and stared at her.

  “And would you mind explaining where you’re going?”

  “To Mars,” she answered, not making a big deal of her interplanetary trip.

  “To Mars!? Great! Mary Ackerson, I think the people in this town had their reasons for cal
ling you Crazy Ackerson.”

  Mary shrugged.

  “Would you mind telling me what’s on Mars for you?”

  “Nothing. But I’m bored of this town. You understand. It’s nothing personal. I love you; I love my farm, the river, the sunsets, the lemonade on the porch in the afternoon... if I ever actually made lemonade. I might miss all that. Even the annoying crickets that keep me awake at full-moon...”

  “So what’s the real reason?”

  “I have a feeling I’m missing something.”

  “You’re missing being married, having children and being busy with farm work.”

  “See? Three more reasons for me to go!”

  “Don’t be silly. Loads of guys in the town fancy you.”

  Mary nearly choked on laughter as she remembered the guys who fancied her.

  “I’m not sure if they want to marry me – or the wine-cellars that my father left me under the house. Seriously, Samuel, the men in this town are not exactly suitable for a young lady like me.”

  Mary burped.

  “Besides, do you know what, Samuel?” she whispered to him. “The other day, George, the mayor’s son, tried to grope me.”

  “To grope you?”

  “Yes, yes: to touch me up. What was he thinking? He’d just asked me the time. When you see him, you’ll see he has a black eye with my name on it, and another part of his anatomy that you can’t see with the bare eye has my surname on it too!”

  Mary got up and looked through the window.

  “Don’t be silly, Samuel: keep everything I have. I won’t need it anymore and it’ll help you to win over Lillie. A man with two beautiful farms will be irresistible for a girl like her.”

  “I don’t like you speaking about Lillie like that...”

  “You know we haven’t been able to stand each other since school. But I know you’re crazy about her and, as I’m a fabulous matchmaker, I’m giving you my farm with the cows and ducks, a horse and a big, huge hug. And, in exchange, you´re lending me your car to get to the Johnson Space Centre... Deal?”

  “You’ll do whatever you want no matter what I say” said Samuel, strangled in Mary’s embrace.

  “Idiot! I’m going to miss you loads.”

  “So and... what are you going to do on Mars?”

  “Find myself a Martian.”

  “Be careful, Mary – you might find one and have to swallow that sarcasm.”

  Mary started the old hybrid Jeep with difficulty and drove it bumpily to the Interstate 45, where the smooth tarmac made the journey easier. She was leaving behind a life that – although happy – was incomplete.

  Chapter 2

  Hundreds of people thronged around that huge outdoor space waiting to be seen by the trip organisers. Security men and women tried to keep order, getting them to form lines. Mary, who had left the jeep on nearby wasteland, stood at the end of one of those lines. She was struck forcefully by the lack of sad and emotional goodbyes – like the ones you saw in films.

  She waited over an hour for her turn. In all that time, she didn’t exchange even one word with anyone. The person in front of her seemed too serious and the woman behind her too nice. Either communication option would have been hell – so she preferred to look into the distance and say nothing.

  “Good morning,” said a man from behind a numbered desk, talking to Mary.

  “Is it my turn now?”

  The old civil servant type of fellow made a face as if to say that that was obvious, and she hurried over to him.

  “Miss...?”

  “Ackerson, Mary Ackerson.”

  The man typed on a mobile device.

  “Mary Ackerson... Here you are. Miss Ackerson, do you have any luggage?”

  “Yes, sir: this bag.”

  “We told you it wasn’t necessary.”

  “But...”

  “Is there anything of sentimental value in it?”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately.

  “Take it out, please, and leave your case on the mark on the floor.”

  The young woman took out a small photo album and left the suitcase on a white cross. A youth with a trolley appeared instantly and took it away.

  “Where is it being taken to?”

  The man at the desk seemed too absorbed with filling out her file to answer. A few seconds later, he began to spurt out questions to check that the information he had on her was correct. Mary affirmed with abrupt nods, without clarifying in any way.

  “Finally, we need three copies of acceptance of our company’s – Stafford Research’s – contract conditions: two written ones and a digital one.

  The old man put two pieces of paper and a fingerprint scanner onto the desk. Mary signed both documents without reading them at all and put her index finger into the machine. A green light lit up accompanied by a quiet beep.

  “Thank you. And this will be your identification. Please put out your hand.”

  Mary did so. The man inserted a chip under her skin with a surgical gun. She felt a slight pinprick.

  “Now walk to the back. Go through the door and show your hand to your new authorities. Good luck and have a good trip.”

  The young woman swallowed her “Thanks” because she saw that the clerk was now completely ignoring her, exaggeratedly calling on another future passenger. She breathed in and walked to the entrance, holding her album in her hands.

  Just as she got there, the door opened automatically. On the other side, a soldier indicated that she should walk through a body scanner.

  “Charlie, a large size for Miss Ackerson, please!” said the soldier to one of his colleagues. “Miss Ackerson, you may come through.”

  “I don’t think I needed to walk through a scanner for you to tell everyone I’m fat...”

  The soldier paid no attention to her joke. Charlie, on the other hand, smiled briefly and gave her a small black suitcase with the Stafford Research logo on one side.

  “What’s inside?” she asked curiously.

  “Everything you’ll need for your journey. Once you’re inside the mothership, you’ll be given more instructions. Now, please go to the boarding area on either of these black buses. Good luck and have a good trip.”

  “Thanks... All this going on about good luck is starting to give me a bad feeling.” she added under her breath.

  Mary got onto a bus without a driver. It started automatically once it was full of passengers.

  Just in front of her, a girl her age tried helplessly to hold onto the bar so as not to fall over. Mary helped her with her suitcase.

  “Hold on. Put the case between your legs. It’ll be easier and you’ll have both hands free.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t think of that. I’ve always been a little clumsy with my hands.”

  Mary smiled. Although she tried to remain distant, their eyes ended up meeting again:

  “Have you come far?” Mary asked her.

  “From Zachary, Louisiana. And you?”

  “From just near here – a little farm by the 45.”

  “Did you leave a farm to come here?”

  “Yep,” said Mary, not making a big deal of it.

  “I thought it would just be loners and lunatics here.”

  “You can put me into the second group if you like. At least, that’s what they say in my town.”

  “No, I didn’t mean to put you into a group. That wasn’t my intention.”

  “Relax. I don’t mind being called crazy. It stopped annoying me when I started talking to animals... plants... blondes...”

  The young woman looked at Mary in surprise, then at her own hair, and they both laughed.

  “My name is Mary – Mary Ackerson.”

  “I’m Gwyneth – Gwyneth Allen.”

  “Hey, do you know if we can choose our rooms on the mothership?”

  “I haven’t got a clue how this works. I just hope that, if the rooms are shared, they aren’t... mixed sex.”

  “Why not? It would be fabulous, silly
! Imagine getting that guy there”

  Mary nodded towards a tall, lanky guy with serious, sunken eyes, a perverse look, bony hands with lots of veins and downturned lips dribbling saliva.

  “No. Good god – what a sight!” said Gwyneth, looking scared. “I hope not.”

  “He looked at you...”

  “No!”

  “He likes you...” sang Mary.

  “Be quiet!” she hissed in a low voice. “He’s going to hear us.”

  The bus stopped suddenly. Gwyneth almost fell over but was stopped as she bumped into a boy, who she shoved slightly forward.

  “I...I’m sorry,” apologised the young woman.

  The boy turned around. Gwyneth was silenced by his attractive smile, which said it didn’t matter without using any words. Mary, who had been watching the little scene, moved over to her and said:

  “Now you wouldn’t mind the rooms being mixed sex, would you?”

  Gwyneth looked at her mischievously and the two of them got off the bus. There was a line of space shuttles before them, which would take them far, far away, to the mothership that had been waiting floating in outer space for some time – waiting for the future colonists of Mars.

  Chapter 3

  The shuttles started filling up seat by seat, like the stalls at a theatre. The show that they had come to see would make them the audience and the stars at the same time. There was no waiting around for the engines to start; there wasn’t even an exciting countdown. Mary had sat where she was told and could just about see Gwyneth, who looked really nervous, staring at the information screens. They showed a woman with a permanent smile showing how to fasten your seatbelt and put your seat into an upright position. However, she didn’t go into what to do in an emergency. There was no room for mistakes. This was a unique mission. There wouldn’t be another one. So they couldn’t afford the luxury of generating any doubt or panic amongst the passengers.

  The ships rose up high, very high, and a curtain was drawn that prevented them from seeing space invaded by stars. Mary had mistakenly thought that the journey would be much bumpier, like on an old train about to be derailed. But the vibrations were more than bearable. She even had time to think about her farm, and wonder whether she had turned off the bathroom tap. Before she knew it, weightlessness had become a reality, as they drew ever closer to the mothership.