The feeling that your friends are growing apart, founded or no, is one that could terrify anybody. Liz was hanging out with other girls more often, and that was understandable for a fifteen year old girl, and John frankly needed to have some friends his own age. Tom’s dad was counting on him more to help maintain the robots always grinding away, making Mars a place where more than six-thousand people could live. I felt like I was the only one who cared we didn’t hang out like we used to. I knew it made sense we should grow in our own directions, but I just wanted to do something to remind us all that we were always going to be friends.
When we were younger, it had been our little game to don the bulky, pressurized suits and ‘explore’ the martian landscape outside the main dome. We weren’t exactly Marco Polo’s or Christopher Columbus’s: GPS had accurately mapped the land before we had even been born, but the bumpy, craggy red earth always seemed