Zed wandered the corridors blindly. He felt stuck in his head, looping through emotions. He was shocked, then mad at himself for being shocked. He should never have listened to Baat. This was always how it was going to turn out. Then he was angry at Baat, but he couldn’t hold that for very long. He felt hurt, and he resented that feeling because it was the last thing he wanted Andy to do to him again.

  Eventually, his angry stalking slowed, and Zed looked up to see that he was standing in front of hydroponics. Desperate for any distraction, he entered, hoping Johns was around. He hadn’t spoken to the man since that first day, but he hadn’t forgotten the hope and ambition Johns had exuded.

  As Zed entered the long, curving hall, he saw Johns hanging from a line. He appeared to be doing maintenance on one of the robots that looked after the plants that spiraled up the walls of each of the artificially sunlit silos.

  Zed stood and watched the big man work, not wanting to startle him from his perch. The lines Johns swung from looked terrifyingly thin for someone so large. The giant arm he was working on reminded Zed of a book he’d once read on origami. This oddly shaped robot was made of countless folding polygons, each its own robot. Together, they formed an oddly angular arm that ended in a bloom of grasping appendages that served as hands, even though they certainly looked nothing like any hand Zed had ever seen.

  These polybots were far more adaptable and easier to transport than the bespoke robots of decades past. Zed knew that huge arm could probably unfold and refold itself into something no bigger than a square meter. Still, all he could think when he saw it was that if this were a video game, that would most certainly be the final boss.

  Johns finally noticed the boy standing below and waved, a smile lighting his wide face.

  “I’ll be down in just a moment, lad!” he barked. “Make yourself at home in the office if you like.”

  Zed nodded and waved. He made his way to the side room full of machine parts that Johns called his office. When Zed entered, he noticed a few new items on the workbench that stood in contrast to the other mechanical odds and ends strewn about, as if Johns had gotten into a fistfight with a terminator and won. These new objects were indeed machines, but they were clearly intended to fly. The toroidal propeller blades seemed exaggeratedly large for the small round bodies they sat atop. There were three drones in various states of completion. Johns appeared to be stripping parts from one to enhance the other two.

  “Your timing is perfect, Zed.”

  Zed turned and saw Johns enter the workshop while wiping his profusely sweating forehead with a greasy rag.

  Upon seeing Zed's face, Johns’s smile fell.

  “Are you alright, boy? You look like someone kicked your dog.”

  “Oh, I’m alright,” Zed said with a half-hearted thumbs-up.

  “Uh huh,” Johns said, still staring at Zed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

  Zed attempted to hold a neutral expression but found himself faltering under Johns's gaze.

  “I just tried to do a nice thing for someone who totally didn’t deserve it, and it completely blew up in my face, which I knew was going to happen. I mean, how could it not?” Zed blurted.

  Johns made a twirling motion with his fingers and gave an encouraging nod.

  “I should have just gone with my original plan—prank him. That he would have deserved, but instead, I wasted hours and hours of my life on an asshole without two brain cells to rub together.”

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  Zed realized he had stood up during his diatribe and abruptly sat back down, eyes locked on the floor. “Sorry. Not your problem, just a bad day is all,” he said more quietly.

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain young mechanic, now would it?” Johns asked. He walked over to the seat across from Zed and sat down with a groan. Zed looked up, surprised.

  “How did you know? It literally just happened.”

  “Oh, this is the first I’ve heard of what just happened, but based on the last time I saw him with you, I didn’t get the impression you were bosom buddies. It’s just as well you didn’t go after him, even if your well-meaning kindness didn’t go to plan. You probably would have just gotten caught and been worse off than you started.”

  Johns wove his fingers together and leaned closer.

  “Next time, come to me first. I’m sure I could come up with a suitable idea or two.”

  Johns smiled, and Zed felt, for a moment, like he got a glimpse of Johns as he must have looked as a mischievous ten-year-old. Zed smiled back. It felt better to at least have someone who saw things his way hear him out.

  “I’ll do that. I’ll definitely do that. Thanks, and sorry for the emotional vomit all over. I don’t have a lot of people I can really talk to.”

  “Oh?” Johns said, sitting back. “What of your friends or your parents for that matter? I ran into them the other day, and they seemed like nice enough folk.”

  “They’re just—” Zed started and then shut his mouth. “They’re not really an option. My parents, I mean.”

  Zed hurried on before Johns could ask any follow-up questions.

  “My friends, Miranda and George—they’re great, but it doesn’t feel fair to involve them in my mess when Andy might just end up picking on them too.”

  Johns nodded. “I see. Well, for whatever it’s worth, my door is always open. Of course, that could be because my office doesn’t actually have a door.” Johns slapped his leg and let out an infectious chortle.

  Despite his dour mood and the relative lameness of the joke, Zed couldn’t help but laugh along with him and felt a little better for it. What Johns told him next distracted him entirely.

  Johns wiped a tear from his eye and gestured toward the workbench. “What do you think of my little minions, Bel and Nebo?” he asked, saying the names with a father’s pride.

  “They look super cool, but what are they?”

  “These little beauties are going to change the world, Zed. Or at least, with your help, they just might.”

  Zed wasn’t sure how to reply to such a grand statement, so he just listened.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of the excitement around the discovery of potential Martian life in that crater cave.”

  “Yeah, the day I got here, it was all anyone was talking about. I haven’t really heard anything beyond that, though.”

  “Well, there’s a reason for that. We don’t know for certain if we’ve found life or just some interesting readings until we get someone in there to take a real look and get some samples. That’s no easy feat because of how deep the area is located in the cave system. If the commanders are going to approve a human mission, they’re going to need a reasonable route through.”

  Johns stood and picked up the bulbous little drone, turning it slowly in his hand for Zed to see.

  “That’s where these little turnips come in. Bel and Nebo are going to map the cave system more fully and hopefully find a route that’s safe enough to convince Thabisa and Bao to give the go-ahead.”

  “There’s a full array of cameras in these bulbs that should send back high-resolution 3D scans. I had to, eh, conscript a few other surface drones from the colony to put these two together, but it’s all for a good cause.”

  “What can they do?” Zed asked. “And how do I come into this? I’m no drone pilot.”

  “Nor am I,” Johns admitted. “They'll fly themselves. That part’s actually pretty basic. I ripped some coding from the structural inspection routines the regular maintenance drones have. Since they’re just mapping, they don’t need anything more complicated than a three-dimensional version of what the vacuums that roam the corridors use.”

  Zed saw what he was getting at now. “You want me to take all that data and make an explorable virtual space.”

  “I knew you were a sharp boy. Yes, indeed. A life-size version of the space laid out for route planning would not only save time but might be just the thing to make the final sales pitch. What do you say, Zed? Would you like to go down in history as the boy that had a hand in finding life on Mars?”

  “Of course! I mean, I think that’s amazing if you think I could be a help.”

  What was it about Johns that seemed to stir up excitement about whatever he went on about? I bet this is how cults start, Zed thought to himself, but he was grateful for the distraction. It really was incredibly exciting stuff.

  “When can, uh…” Zed gestured toward the drones.

  “Bel and Nebo,” Johns said, holding them both up.

  “When can Bel and Nebo get started?”

  “Just as soon as I can get the Commander’s approval. But since there are no people at risk, I don’t expect that to be difficult. In fact, if you were to come with me, it might sweeten the deal. I think Thabisa has a soft spot for the baby of the colony.”

  “Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?” he replied, ignoring the friendly jab. “Let’s go spelunking.”