Opening her eyes to excited shouts and cheers, Melanie Seymour gazed upon the most gorgeous sunset she had ever seen.

“If a planet can be called a sunset,” she thought to herself, her blue eyes continuing to take in the varying shades of fiery red, terracotta orange, and muddy brown.

Mars, named for the Roman god of war as the Greek, Aries, didn’t have the same ring, apparently, loomed large before her, even though she knew it to be the second smallest in the solar system, with Pluto downgraded to a dwarf planet. She chafed at the decision now as she had fifteen years ago.

She shook her head, in disbelief that she could be about to step foot on a place she had dreamed about seeing since she was a little girl and learning all about the other eight planets and was still fussing about poor, wronged Pluto.

Correction.

The other seven.

She sighed. Old habits did indeed die hard.

She returned her focus to her surroundings, gathering her gear and making preparations to

exit the shuttle.

Preparations she had been mentally reviewing for the nine months it had taken to travel.

Nine months. The typical gestation period for a human child. Yet she was giving birth to far more than that as she placed her feet on that ruddy soil, the winds swirling about her.

She would be rescuing life.

Not only her own but that of all mankind.