Bucky Winters sat at the old wooden desk in the bedroom he shared with his two older brothers. They were both out somewhere, so he had the room to himself for a change.
On the screen of his notebook computer was an image of the writing that the Martians had chiseled into a wall of the buildings they had left behind. And superimposed over the strange symbols were words:
[We are] the People. The People [live] under Father Sun. Father Sun [is] life. Father Sun [makes] the crops [grow]. Father Sun [is] Life…
He stared at the screen as the words scrolled past his goggling eyes.
They wrote those words! Bucky marveled. There really were Martians and they built villages and wrote prayers. There are scientists on Mars exploring the planet, digging up the old villages, translating the Martian writing.
Trembling with excitement, Bucky got up from the wobbly desk chair and went to the window. He slid it open and crawled out onto the porch roof. Moonlit clouds were drifting across the stars, silvery against the black of night. The stars twinkled and blinked as the clouds drifted past them.
His tongue between his teeth, Bucky looked toward the southwest, hoping that the clouds weren’t so thick that they covered…
There it isl Mars, shining red and steady against the infinity of space. Bucky stared at it, thinking:
I’m going to get all As in high school. I’ll take whatever classes they want me to take and study Mars here at home; I won’t let anybody at school know about it. I won’t say a word to anybody, not even Mom and Dad. I’ll get the best marks anybody can get all through high school and win a scholarship to college. I’ll study astronomy in college and when I graduate I’ll go to Mars. I’ll help them explore. I’ll get there no matter what.
In the dark night Bucky smiled at the steady red beacon of Mars. Wait for me, he asked. I’m coming to you.