Jérémy Chapi :
"We've done it—we've entered Mars's gravitational field!" I exclaimed, feeling a rush of nervous excitement surge through me.
Next to me, Pavel stirred from his nap, his eyes still foggy with sleep."I think I can safely say that was one of the worst naps I've ever taken—but the view makes up for it. Look, you can even see the ice caps at the poles," Pavel said, still groggy but clearly awestruck by the sight.
"We'll land over there—but not just yet. We'll first enter the atmosphere and make a short flight over it," I replied, eyes fixed on the navigation instruments.
"Be careful when entering the atmosphere. It has far less resistance than Earth's. The hull shouldn't heat up too much, but stay cautious," Pavel reminded me.
"No problem," I answered with a smile. "We'll put our helmets back on for Mars entry—just in case something goes wrong."
During the journey, we had pressurized the Liberty's cabin to make it breathable and more comfortable, but during maneuvering phases I preferred to take no risks. A sudden depressurization could be fatal. Pavel and I adjusted our helmets, checking that all life-support systems were operational.
The engines began a soft hum as we started our deceleration and descent toward our destination. Through the windows, Mars was growing larger, its reddish landscape coming sharply into view. Mountains, valleys, and immense canyons spread out before us—a barren, austere beauty unlike anything on our blue planet.
"Atmospheric entry—hold on," I said to Pavel.
A gentle tremor shook us as we entered Mars's thin atmosphere. The heat shields did their work, dissipating the frictional heat. The descent continued smoothly.
I kept the Liberty at a safe altitude, gliding over the terrain without risk.
"Pretty poor in color," Pavel observed.
Indeed, Mars lacked Earth's vibrant palette. Everything here was shades of gray, brown, and red beneath a dull, sickly sky—so far from the blue of home. Yet this was humanity's dream: to set foot on this planet.
"How about a reenactment of the Moon landing… but on Mars?" I said with a grin.
"You want to land?" asked Pavel, surprised.
"Of course! We didn't cross the solar system for orbital sightseeing," I replied with a wink.
I began the landing phase with utmost care. The Liberty's four landing legs touched down with a light metallic thud. We were finally on the ground.
"No matter what happens, we'll be the first humans to do everything we're about to do," I said, my voice trembling with excitement.
"Yeah, I know… and I feel like my heart's going to give out if this keeps up," Pavel replied with a nervous laugh.
"Depressurizing the cabin," I announced, grabbing Pavel's hand. "Together—let's step out and leave humanity's first footprints on this soil."
We opened the Liberty's hatch and stepped onto Mars. For a moment, we stood in silence, letting the moment sink in. A light wind swept up the dust around us, giving the scene an almost unreal aura.
As I prepared to take my first true step, I suddenly stumbled and fell heavily to the ground.
"You okay?!" Pavel shouted, a hint of panic in his voice.
"Yeah… just pins and needles in my leg," I answered, lying on my side and holding my right leg to calm the tingling—while nursing my pride at being the first man to fall on Mars.
"Oh, that's fine then. Guess I'm not the only one who's made a fool of himself," Pavel said, relieved, then burst out laughing. "As soon as I can walk, I'll come help you! Ha ha ha!"
I joined in his laughter, rolling onto my back. Above me, the sky was light brown at the horizon, fading into a dusty white higher up. Lying there, I scooped up a handful of Martian soil and let it run slowly through my fingers like an hourglass. The grains were uniform, dry—and yet so similar to those of Earth.
I had read countless studies on the terraformation of Mars to make it livable. Some theories were absurd, others promising. But at that moment, gazing at this red, lifeless desert, I realized how colossal the task would be. Still, I couldn't help but smile—impossible is not a human word.
Pavel appeared above me, his silhouette outlined against the pale sky. He held out a hand to help me up. I took it gladly, my legs still numb.
"So, what now?" he asked.
"We're going to collect some samples," I said, heading to the front compartment of the Liberty to open the storage bay. Inside were several airtight boxes, a folding shovel, a small pickaxe, and a cooler. "I know the Curiosity rover already did great analysis work, but bringing back physical samples can't hurt."
Pavel took the pickaxe and an empty container. "That'll make a nice souvenir to bring home. But we should dig in a few different spots to diversify the samples."
I nodded with a smile. "Good idea. Let's do it. We'll start with this plain, then move toward those rock formations."
We got to work, carefully digging into the Martian soil. Each strike of the pickaxe kicked up a red cloud of dust, and every handful of soil carried the weight of humanity's dreams. The total silence of Mars, broken only by the sound of our tools, commanded an almost religious respect. Our suits—never meant for long surface missions—limited our movements, but we made do.
Once our containers were full, I jumped experimentally—realizing my leaps were twice as high as on Earth. The weight of the tools was almost negligible. The low gravity gave me a giddy sense of freedom.
Pavel watched me, amused, through his visor."Having fun?" he asked with irony.
"Yes! I didn't expect it to feel this strange," I replied, exaggerating my steps toward him.
"And this is nothing compared to the Moon," said Pavel. "Mars's gravity is nearly three times weaker than Earth's. And believe me—it's a relief for me."
Intrigued, I asked, "Why do you say that?"
"We call it 'Earth sickness.' When you come back after a long time in space, your body isn't used to gravity anymore. Dizziness, nausea… and that's the easy part!" He laughed, then added more calmly, "Don't worry—it's not my first rodeo. The effects are milder here, and I knew what to expect. I don't plan to be dead weight on this mission."
I smiled behind my visor."To me, you're far from dead weight. And thank you for coming with me. The trip feels a lot shorter with you here."
Deep down, his presence kept me grounded—helped me not succumb to the oppressive silence of Mars. I was genuinely glad he was there.
"Tell you what," I said, closing the Liberty's storage bay and grabbing the cooler, "how about you pilot the Liberty to our next destination near the poles?"
Pavel lifted his head, surprised."You sure I can?"
"Yes, it shouldn't be a problem. I'll explain all the controls. Once we reach the target point, we can take a break and grab a bite," I said, moving to the passenger seat and gesturing for him to take the pilot's chair.