First Lieutenant Petra Stargazer's eyes grew weary. Lowering her Galaxy Horizon Far-Seeking Binoculars, she blinked rapidly, clearing away her sleepiness. Day after day, she remained on lunar duty, waiting to escort the Martian delegation. Their lateness worried her.

One hundred and fifty years had passed since the first settlers arrived on Mars. At first, the new colonists relied upon Earth's bounty to help them eke out a living. Supply transport vehicles arrived frequently along with new people to bolster the red planet's growing population. Until recently, the situation remained amicable.

The first signs of unrest among the Martians emerged when Earth, in a controversial move, raised taxes and imposed stiffer penalties on imported goods. The inhabitants of the great domed cities were not pleased. They argued that the old laws no longer applied to them. The people of Mars, feeling the strain, began to gather in the streets and discuss the possibility of Independence.

Among the many who gathered, one man stood out. Bartholomew Bop, a tall, gaunt man in his mid-fifties, emerged as a leader, urging men and women to oppose Earth's dominance over Mars. His charisma and determination drew attention and respect. Insurrection permeated the air, and the people's grumbling became a roar.

Earth reached out to Mars, hoping to find a friendly solution. After months of failed diplomacy, Mars finally agreed to send a delegation to Earth to settle their differences. Petra raised her binoculars again. Distant stars came into focus. She thought she detected a motion among them but dismissed the object as an asteroid.

"Anything yet?" Her counterpart stepped from the lunar shed and stood beside her. Mort Round raised his binoculars and scanned the skies. His face remained impassive; his chiseled features set in granite.

Petra shook her head, then said no. She sighed. Mort's presence grinded her nerves. Although they both held the same rank, his personality was domineering. He never smiled, rarely spoke, and offered no companionship during their enforced duty together. She wasn't sure if he was a human or a robot. He ate and drank like a human but walked with a stiff stride.

"Nothing," Petra finally added.

"I'll take over now," Mort stated, his voice mechanical. "Get some rest."

Petra entered the lunar shed. A cot stood against each wall with enough room to walk between them. A small kitchen provided a cramped space to prepare a ready-made meal and coffee. Petra sank into her cot and curled up. She could sleep for four hours before relieving Mort. Although she anticipated the delegation's arrival, she hoped it would appear during her watch. When it arrived, either she or Mort would escort it back to Earth.

Petra awoke and scrubbed her face with her hands. A hot shower would have refreshed her, but no one thought to provide one at the lunar outpost. She stepped outside. Mort stood in the same spot he had occupied four hours earlier. His hands held the binocs against his eyes, and he stared toward a fixed location.

"Robot," Petra muttered, sure of herself. She approached her counterpart. He glanced at her and retreated into the shed. She would have liked a little conversation but didn't expect it. Instead, she raised her binoculars and studied the horizon.

The moon's dull landscape bored her. During her long sojourn, Petra wondered why the lunar surface wasn't utilized to its fullest potential. Their outpost and one on the other side were the only two. Many miles of unused ground lay between them.

Duty bound Petra to a military career. She followed in her father and grandfather's footsteps. Service meant everything to the Stargazer family. In the years to come, she could look forward to advancement in rank and perhaps become a General like her father.

Petra wore a jumpsuit, moon boots, and helmet with goggles in regulation gray. Mort donned a similar uniform. The hut behind her blended perfectly with the lunar surface. Observers would find it difficult to discern their figures at a mere glance.

As she studied the sky, Petra reached out with her mind. She strained to make the connection she sought, using Ultra-Space Net. After a few moments, her brain relaxed. She would try again later.

"Petra?" a weakened voice spoke in her ear.

"Kev?" she asked, urging her brain to gather strength.

"Yes," her Martian counterpart responded. "They haven't departed yet."

"What do you mean: they haven't departed yet?" Petra lowered her binocs, defeated.

"Like I said, they haven't departed yet." Kev's voice grew more assertive. "There's an issue. They're back in the conference room."

"Ugh," Petra groaned. "What issue?" Her mind felt Kev shrug. Of course, he didn't know. Like her, he wasn't privy to classified information. They both followed orders, nothing else.

"They might send you back to Earth if the delay is long enough," Kev encouraged. "Mort still driving you crazy?"

"Mr. No Expression? Yeah." She glanced toward the hut. Mort Round was either sleeping or shut down—whatever. "He's a robot, I'm sure."

"You were sure he was human yesterday," her Martian counterpart stated.

"That was yesterday. It fluctuates."

"I get that. There's one on my team, too." Kev's voice wavered. Even with the advances in Ultra Net, communication remained inadequate. The designers blamed distance and solar interference.

Petra began to respond but realized Kev was gone. She began to raise her binocs, but another scan of the horizon was worthless. The delegation remained on Mars. She'd have to report the information to her superior. Wearily, she sat on the shed's step.

"Stark." Her mind formed the name. Her commander's gruff 'What?' popped into her brain. The military version of Ultra Space Net worked perfectly and clearly. "I just received information that the Martain delegation hasn't departed yet."

"We were informed."

Petra hesitated. A request to return to Earth formed in her mind.

"You will remain in position until further notice," Stark snapped, reading her thoughts.

"Yes, Sir." She had thought too fast. Her superior could read her mind.

Petra sat on the step, her elbows on her knees. Behind her, Mort snored. She listened to the perfect timing of his breathing. It seemed unnatural. She didn't know how long she could bear his companionship. Dismissing her counterpart, she thought about Kev.

Their long-distance friendship began long before the current situation. Although they never met face-to-face, she knew Kev-Tran from military exercises they once participated in together. Back in the good days, she thought, when Earth and Mars worked together amicably. Petra studied the gray expanse ahead of her.

Her training prepared her for war, but she didn't have to like it. The people of Mars were once Earthlings. They seemed like relatives to her, not bitter enemies. Kev was her friend. They shared thoughts and ideas in common. Someday, they planned to meet, become closer friends, or perhaps something more. Despite her strong military background, she still had a woman's emotions.

"You'll get demerits for sitting," Mort spoke from behind her. Petra didn't know how long he had stood at the door.

"Our duty's over for now," she flung back, standing. "The delegation never left Mars." Pushing past Mort, she entered the hut and plunked onto her cot. He turned to look at her.

"I assume you asked to return to Earth," he remarked blandly.

"We stay here until further notice," Petra snapped.

"I see." Mort turned sharply and marched through the door. He raised his binocs and studied the horizon.

"Pointless," Petra muttered.