I Hate Mars

by ~nekoewen

I

As Peter Trantor passed by Selene stood up and made to talk to him. He didn’t seem to notice; he was listening to music on his damnable headphones of his.

He was also contemplating just how miserable he was here on Mars. The air on Mars was dry and dusty, which was bad for his asthma and tended to irritate his eyes. The color was getting to him too. The redness of the Red Planet was, in fact, only substantially interrupted by flats of yellow moss, to which he was allergic. However, the physical and chromatic conditions paled next to the fact that he was being forced to attend the Triplanetary Parapsychological Institute. His Neiman-Fujikawa test rating was a T-10; theoretically he was one of the strongest telepaths in the known universe, and he’d been told that not going to the TPI would’ve been considered treason against Earth. If he could’ve gone home when he wanted he wouldn’t have minded quite so much, but he was trapped here and it was driving him nuts.

To Selene this Earthling[1] had two very unusual traits. Firstly, on every planet she was regarded as having a transcendent, almost cosmic beauty, as though in her some quality of her Venusian people had been rarified to perfection. Few men, Earthling, Martian, Venusian, or otherwise, failed to fawn over her, but Trantor scarcely acknowledged her existence. Secondly, she couldn’t read his mind. Like him she was rated a T-10, only in her case it showed through in her exceptionally powerful telepathy. She could read the thoughts of virtually anyone; telepaths rated T-5 or lower couldn’t even offer any resistance, and even T-9s had a faint presence no matter how hard they tried to block themselves. But not Trantor; his block was so complete that he had all the mental presence of a rock. Slightly less, actually.

Peter had never even been aware of his block until he’d come to the TPI. He’d never been around many telepaths before, but suddenly he was at this school where all 60 students were T-4 or higher. They were variously suspicious of what he might be thinking and jealous of his mental privacy, not to mention annoyed by the fact that some of the telepathic teachers had to conduct lectures orally solely for his benefit.

One of his “Earthling” classmates had once told him that the block made it feel as though he wasn’t human. Sometimes he didn’t feel like he was very human either.

When Selene touched his shoulder he jumped. Even his basic intuition seemed to be stunted. She found him… cute, after a fashion, in spite of the fact that he was overly pink and it felt like he had no mind. She’d never needed to read facial features, so she hadn’t the faintest idea what he was thinking. His blinking brown eyes were a mystery, intriguing and terrifying.

“Sit with me,” she commanded.

Peter, who’d tentatively removed one earphone, looked at her for a long moment. Up close she was every bit as hot as she looked from afar, though to him the light green skin (though smooth and soft-looking), dark green hair (though silky and pleasantly fragrant), and yellow eyes (whose color made it hard to think up anything positive) ruined the effect somewhat.

“Hm?”

Remembering that he was not one of her loyal Venusian subjects, or even a Martian who would show her obeisance for diplomatic reasons, she tried a different approach. “Please,” she said, “I wish to speak with you.”

His eyes blinked blankly. “I’m… kinda in a hurry right now. Maybe some other time.”


II

Selene kept trying, not sure why she was still bothering, and twice more she found herself brushed off with some excuse. Students were starting to gossip. They gossiped telepathically of course, so Trantor was oblivious to it like everything else.

It was a simple matter to locate the one student that Trantor actually talked to. Lorquas was a young Martian who’d lived on Earth for too much of his youth. He dressed and talked like an Earthling. The Earthling clothes, a T-shirt and blue jeans, clashed with his red skin, and the Earthling speech, laden with meaningless slang, was only comprehensible because his mind could be read. Being confronted with the likes of the Venusian princess made his eyes bulge. He fidgeted and stuttered, and thought crude, sexual thoughts.

“Uh… Uh… Hi!”

“What exactly is Trantor’s problem?” she demanded.

“Peter? Dude, I totally don’t know. I think he’s just quiet, you know?”

“He’s ignoring me!”

By now she should’ve been used to the way Lorquas was staring at her body, but some how his thoughts seemed dirtier than usual.

“Dude, I dunno. He said he used to have a girlfriend, but he just doesn’t seem really, like, interesting in chicks and stuff. Like, we’ll be walking and see this really hawt chick like… uh… you… and I’ll be like, ‘Woah! She’s hot!’ and he’ll be like, ‘Huh?’”

Girlfriends and boyfriends were an Earth custom, albeit one that was becoming very popular on other planets. “He’s not a lover of men, is he?” She’d heard of such things, especially among some of Venus’ southern tribesmen, who would trek through the dense jungles for months hunting Segandir while their women remained in the village.

Lorquas shook his head. “Nah dude. I’ve seen how gay guys check out other guys. They’re just as bad about it as straight guys are about checking out chicks. Peter’s a cool guy, but I mean, he doesn’t even have any porn.” Images of magazines full of naked Jovian women floated in his thoughts. “I mean, I could see if he’s not into the whole xenophilia thing – lots of humans are like that actually – but… dude! ”

She already knew about young men and their pornography, and she knew perhaps more than she would’ve liked about similar habits among some young women too for that matter. “That is… odd. Thank you for your help.”

She did her best to ignore how he looked at her as she walked away, how he tried very hard to not think about what she’d look like naked and didn’t quite succeed.


III

Mrs. Morelli taught geology; she was one of the first Earthling geologists to come to Mars since the reunification of the Triplanetary Alliance[2]. She was also an extremely energetic, cheerful, hands-on instructor. She wasn’t taken very seriously, but she was well-liked in spite of being a T-zero.

Peter looked down at the paper she’d returned, and found a smiley-face sticker and the words “GOOD WORK!!! ” had been added to it.

“Today,” announced Mrs. Morelli, “we’re going out into the field! I’ll be dividing you into pairs, and I want you to look for different types of minerals; I’m giving you this sheet, so try to find one of each of the six classes here! Whichever group comes back first with all six gets a special prize! ” No one seemed interested in the “special prize,” but then she’d forgotten that everyone (except Peter) must’ve known what it was.

Peter’s hopes of spending a quiet afternoon with Lorquas were dashed when Mrs. Morelli announced that “Petey” Trantor would be paired with Selene Naroom. Even with the rest of the class communicating telepathically, and even given his blindness to the subtleties of body language and facial expression, Peter could tell this was creating unease in the class. What they might be thinking was a mystery to him of course – in this case one he’d rather not solve – but he worried he might be finding out the hard way.


IV

Peter and Selene walked for over an hour, silent save for the crunch of their boots on the red Martian soil, the faint sounds of their clothing crinkling as they walked. Out here it was so quiet that every least sound felt like an intrusion, a violation of some sacred silence. Once in a while one of them would wordlessly stoop to look at a rock formation, and Peter occasionally had to use his inhaler to ward off his asthma.

When he started to get a sinus headache, Peter paused to take out a pain reliever tablet and a bottle of water to wash it down with.

Selene looked down at him as he knelt, a supplicant before his altar of medicine. An Earthling through and through. “You have no idea what they’re thinking about us, do you?”

He looked up at her and shrugged. By “they” she must’ve meant the other students. “How could I?” Even if he’d wanted to – and he really didn’t want to – he couldn’t have read their minds. Everyone knew that.

“They think we’re… oh, what’s the Earthling term? Sleeping together.”

Peter nearly choked. “The hell?” he managed. Water dripped down his chin as he crouched, coughing and wheezing.

“You and I are the only ones in the institute who can block out everyone else, you know. It’s natural to get suspicious.”

Standing up, he looked at her. Really looked. Her slender body was almost too perfect, like something that belonged to male fantasy rather than reality. Even encumbered by hiking boots and wrapped up against the chill Martian air she had a certain poise; she just naturally positioned her body to look appealing and commanding, probably without even thinking about it. It was, he was sure, partly being raised as a princess and partly training in Venusian Judo. He tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss those dark green lips. He tried.

“What are you thinking?” she demanded, “And don’t you dare say ‘nothing.’”

He tried to think of how to put it into words, how for three years he and Becky had slowly, inexorably, drifted apart, how he felt closed off, dead inside. How he didn’t want to hurt someone else the way he’d hurt Becky. He never imagined he’d find himself wanting someone to be able to look into his mind, if only to save him the agony of trying to find words, but it wasn’t that simple. Wanting it was no longer enough.

His headache got worse. A lot worse. A sharp pressure seemed to be building behind his eyeballs. He rubbed his head, which did nothing. Selene was peering at him, squinting.

“Open,” she mouthed slowly.

He felt something dribbling onto his upper lip, and found his nose was bleeding. He felt tears coursing from his eyes, but they were blood too. His breath came in ragged gasps.

“I can’t,” he gasped. It wasn’t a switch to be turned on and off. It was just how he was, and he could no more change it than he could grow another head.

“Open!” she hissed.

The pressure behind his eyes surged, and his ears felt moist. This had to stop; Mars didn’t need any more red. Though he could barely move, he lurched forward, bringing his shoulder into Selene’s stomach. It caught her by surprise, knocked the wind out of her.

They were sprawled on the ground, facing each other as they lay on their sides on the red dirt. Peter was tempted to laugh. This pose was somehow nostalgic, and yet the one who was so close that he could feel her breath on his face was a Venusian princess, and the bed was Martian topsoil.

Selene’s angry face softened, saddened, as indecipherable emotions played across her green face.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she said hoarsely. “I’m sorry.”

He stared into her yellow eyes for a long moment, and laughed weakly.

“What?” she demanded as she sat up.

Peter raised himself to a sitting position, brushing dirt off of his face. “It’s just that without telepathy you’re worse than me.”

She regarded him for a long moment, and then smiled. “You know,” she ventured, “I don’t really like it here either.” Slowly, she took out a handkerchief, wetted it, and started gently wiping the blood and dirt off of his face. “The air is so cold and dry here. It’s terrible for my skin.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“What?”

“You figured out how I feel about Mars without having to read my mind.”


V

As they walked back to the school, their awkward conversation fell silent. The sun was setting, and most of the other students would already be back at school.
“I felt your mind back there,” Selene said suddenly. “Just a little bit, just for a moment.”

Peter was silent. He’d grown up hearing about telepaths, and he’d always been curious and terrified of what one might think after looking in his head.

“You’re pretty messed up.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

She stood in front of him, and stopped. In the light of the setting sun her eyes looked pretty. “I have no idea why, but I like you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he muttered.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I. Next you’re going to tell me I have pretty eyes.”

“How… How did you…?”

He shrugged. “Just a guess… Based on experience. You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

“I’m not afraid of being hurt.”

The sun was sinking; the shadows of the red rocks grew longer and longer. “Easy to say now,” he breathed. “I don’t know if I can change.”

“We can stop any time you want.”

He thought about it, and then started walking again. “You’ve won the battle, but not the war.”

[1] Aliens tend to insist on referring to the inhabitants of Earth as “Earthlings” rather than “humans” or “Terrans” as they would prefer, though there are those from the outer planets who sometimes call Earth-people “Earthenoids.”

[2] The other peoples of the solar system regarded Earth as having entered a dark age for the past few millennia; they made efforts to hide themselves from the Earthlings, but left an artifact on the moon as a test. Reunification was achieved about 20 years ago, albeit with lots of shouting involved. But that is another story.