Page 74 of The Lottery

She gives me a wink and sexy smile, then moves her palm off my thigh. Her warmth is replaced by the harsh bite of cold, and I instantly miss her touch. “I’ll try to resist,” she says. “Let’s see what nightfall brings.”

I need no more motivation. My eyes narrow on the land ahead and I press the gas pedal as far as it will go.

* * *

I had planned on a leisurely trip with stops to eat and explore, but the promise of what is to come once we set up camp motivates me to keep moving. Solar panels power the rover, keeping our battery charged as, we power ahead to arrive at the crash site about an hour before nightfall. I am glad we have the knowledge to harness the wind and the water and the sun for our energy needs. That we will not need to poison this planet like we did the last.

We stop at the base of a small hill covered in shadow, deep orange light bathing the land around us, the map on the rover’s screen showing our target point is just on the other side of the hilltop.

“What now?” Azalea asks as she puts her hand on the door handle. “Do we unload here or…?” She lets her question hang in the air.

“First,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt and scooting over to her side. “I kiss you. Then we will discuss what comes next.”

She flashes a seductive smile as I lean in and brush her lips with mine.

“Now we can check on the cargo,” I say, feeling her tremble under my fingertips.

She nods, though her face has a pained look that probably mirrors my own. Abstaining, even for a brief time, takes an incredible amount of resolve.

We exit the rover and begin walking up the hill hand in hand, the wind rustling our clothes. The freedom to be with each other makes me feel like a caged bird finally set free. What I would give for it to always be this way, but I am painfully aware of the cage that awaits us upon our return.

As we approach the crest of the hill, I prepare myself for what comes next. I do not have high hopes for what we will find.

“Oh shit,” Azalea says as we reach the top and look down into the body of water below, her reaction confirming what I already expected to be true.

Unbeknownst to Azalea, I plotted these coordinates against an estimated trajectory of the ejected cargo tier provided by Metis. We ran the calculations a number of times, and the result was almost always the same.

By all accounts, our cargo container had landed in a lake.

Now we stand on a small mound, looking at the worst possible outcome.

The top of the craft is visible close to the water’s shore, white metal glistening in the golden light, but over eighty percent of our container is below the deep red waves. Under the setting sun, we watch the floating debris scatter about the lake, a part of our ship shattered into a hundred pieces.

“It’s wrecked,” Azalea mutters. “Can we save anything?”

“No,” I say, putting to rest any thoughts of an aquatic rescue mission. The container was airtight, but not after it crashed into rock and tore apart.

Azalea looks at me, clocking my thoughts as she always seems to do.

“You don’t seem very bothered by us losing all our cargo,” she says.

I meet her gaze and try to give a reassuring smile. “I am upset, but I already suspected this was the case.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Metis simulated the landing a few dozen times, and this was the probable outcome,” I answer. “I started making contingency plans yesterday morning, sending out a hunting team and cultivating additional farmland. We have lost a good number of rations, but I would not have authorized this mission if the planet was not ready to support us. This is a setback, but nothing we cannot handle.”

Azalea looks down at the cargo ship, then back to me with a raised eyebrow. “If you knew about this, why make a two-day trek away from camp and put all your work on hold?”

I smile at her, stepping closer and taking her hands in mine. The question is a loaded one, leading toward an answer Azalea already has.

Our faces are inches apart, and my eyes dance between hers. “I do not know what our relationship means for this society. I know that I have fought it every step of the way because these feelings threaten the rules I ask others to abide by.”

I move even closer, breaking our eye contact, our lips now nearly touching.

“But I must be with you. Even if it is only for one night, I need you. I have never needed anything so badly. Not air. Not food. Not water—”

My poetic pleas end when her mouth takes mine, and we wrap our arms around each other. Standing atop this Martian hill, the final rays of sunlight fading behind distant mountain tops, we press our bodies together and everything outside of this moment dissolves into nothing.

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