“Oh? Continue.”
“One of the women, named Doris Gray, has been matched with you, Captain.” Lieutenant Controi flicks his wrist device, sending the image to the screen on my wall. A picture of the redheaded Earthling comes up before me, and I hold my breath in response.
“She’s been matched with me,” I say in a choked voice.
I can barely believe my luck. This woman has had my heart, mind, and soul wrapped up and confused. Since I first laid eyes on her, I have wanted her. And the fact that we are now matched is beyond anything that I ever could have hoped for.
“You and she are almost a perfect pair. You will undoubtedly create healthy children that will counteract the genetic abnormality that has caused the decline in females.”
“This is incredibly good news,” I say, gulping again. And so I don’t seem wholly self-centered and self-interested, I add, “For the good of all Mars.”
“Are you satisfied with this match?” Lieutenant Controi asks.
“I am more than satisfied. Truth be told, I’ve have had my eye on this particular female since we rescued the women from the Mantis ship. Out of all of them, she has captured my mind in a way I can’t explain.”
“Can you go on? Any data we can retrieve about this process will be helpful for additional matches.”
“I don’t know how to explain it. There is no other experience in my life to compare it to. The most I can say is that as soon as I saw her, I had the strangest feeling in my chest. A feeling like my heart had grown too large for my chest cavity. And when I touched her, a shock ran through me—as if I had touched a live electric wire.”
“That’s very interesting, sir,” Lieutenant Controi says.
“I would like to speak with her soon.”
“Now that all but one have been tested for genetic abnormalities and contagious diseases, we can transport them to the surface. We are preparing them to disembark now. If you would like to visit this female before they leave the ship, then that can be arranged.”
“No. I don’t want to disrupt the process. But I am eager to visit with her upon her arrival on Mars.”
“Each of the females will be given individual quarters at the bridal house. I will inform her of her match when we arrive. Or you may do that yourself when you visit her.”
“I think I would like to have the pleasure of informing her myself.”
“Very well,” Lieutenant Controi says. “I will be escorting the females to the surface and getting them settled into their housing. It should only take a few hours.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Controi. I will visit my match at the first possible convenience.”
Lieutenant Controi salutes and leaves my chambers. My heart is racing, and I am flushed. I’m having feelings that I do not recognize or understand. Martian males have been genetically modified and bred throughout the centuries to be bigger, stronger, more intelligent, and more rational than our ancient ancestors. And over the last hundred years, we have become hypermasculine without the mitigating presence of the feminine side of humanity.
I do not understand these emotions. I have no context for these feelings. It is interesting and profound while also disturbing and unsettling. My body stirs with desire at the sight of the beautiful redheaded Doris Gray on the screen before me. Her bright-green eyes and speckled cheeks are beguiling and sweet. There is such a tenderness about her that I feel a craving in my gut grow expansively as I gaze upon her.
It’s as if there has been a missing part of myself that I’d never recognized until this moment. And now that I know it is gone, all I want is to retrieve it. Being away from her now that I know she is mine is excruciating. I want to rush to her in her quarters and tell her that she is mine, that I must have her immediately. But I know that this is an irrational response. No Earthling female would ever be impressed with such behavior.
Our historians, scientists, psychologists, sociologists, and philosophers are all in agreement that we must treat these Earthling females with the utmost respect and restraint. They will be afraid and resistant and perhaps even full of righteous indignation, as the girl Roberta McKenzie obviously is—having refused the medical checkup.
But my Doris Gray, she allowed for the procedure. And she has been implanted with a serum that will react when in the presence of her genetic match. I will receive a matching implant as soon as Medic Foxx arrives. Once we are in the presence of one another, her body will begin to respond to my individual pheromones, and I will respond to hers.
It is a process that will not only allow for a more cooperative response to mating but will also prepare for optimal ovulation and spermatozoa generation. We wish to fully optimize our mating to prevent the disastrous results of our previous genetic manipulations by preserving all the advanced qualities of Martian males while at the same time returning to a fifty percent birth rate for females.
Only time will tell if we are successful. But I cannot bring myself to think of the future of Martiankind as I stare up at Doris Gray. All I can think about is the next few hours until I will meet her and tell her in person that we have been matched and that our destiny is to create a child, the first child born on Mars in a generation.
9
Lieutenant Controi arrives with several other lower-ranked Martians and informs us that we will be transporting to the surface. Since everyone but Bobby agreed to the tests, we will all be free to roam and travel about the planet. Bobby, on the other hand, will remain in quarantine until she is prepared to undergo at least the test for infectious diseases. Which means she will have separate quarters to herself once we reach the surface.
She grumbles about the quarantine, but I can tell that she is warming to the idea of at least allowing them to test her for infectious diseases. The Martians will no doubt have different immunities than we do, having just arrived from Earth. I’m sure that a thousand years of evolution on a different planet has created many differences in immune response. Who knows, maybe a common cold would kill everyone on the planet.
We walked down the hall to an exit hatch, and Lieutenant Controi taps a button on the control pad near another hatch that slides open. Inside is what looks like a transport pod with multiple chairs. We all shuffle inside the domed room and take a seat on the circular couch. Lieutenant Controi instructs us on how to put on the safety harness. Once we are all belted in, he takes the wheel and disembarks our shuttle from the larger ship.
I get that strange feeling in my stomach similar to riding a roller coaster, like my guts are jumping into my chest. We descend quickly toward the surface of the planet, viewable through the pod’s windshield.
As we break through the new atmosphere of Mars, something that is still hard for me to comprehend, we fall through the clouds over a broad blue ocean toward a landmass where a cityscape sprawls out before us. There are skyscrapers of chrome, glass, and stone and greenery and waterways. Elevated walkways and flying vehicles zoom through the air.
I gasp in wonder at the city before me and marvel at the technology and the sheer beauty of the architecture and urban planning. It’s as if the most ideal science fiction city of the future has been constructed on the red planet. The red planet that is now green and blue while Earth is barren and dead.
The shuttle moves through the city along the airways until it comes to what looks like a mansion in the style of Greek revival. Marble columns rise above wide staircases and sweeping green gardens full of grass and paths and hedges. I am astounded at the size of this place as the shuttle comes to a stop on the landing pad. It’s at least forty thousand square feet and looks like the kind of place where a president or a billionaire would live.