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Foreign hello friends, and welcome to sleept Stories. Red, Blue, and their mom are on the ship bound for Earth. Red is not enjoying the trip and cannot believe she had to leave Mars to go to Earth. Her father isn't with them, and Red misses him a lot but won't admit that to anyone. Everything about the trip annoys Red, and when they get close to Earth, she thinks that all the bright colors there will do the same. The Transfer Student the Arrival Red lay in her bunk aboard the ship bound for Earth. The air smelled faintly metallic, a reminder of recycled oxygen flowing through the ship's systems. The ship's quiet hum vibrated beneath her, a steady pulse that never faded. Occasionally she could hear distant murmurs from other passengers beyond their cabin walls, but the main noise was Blues frequent giggles as he watched Earth entertainment on his pad. Red scowled. She'd been in a bad mood ever since they'd been told they'd won the lottery and would soon leave Mars behind. Her mother called it a new beginning, but it felt like giving up to Red. Blue, of course, was thrilled, likely because whatever Red thought, he had to think the opposite. He was such a stinker. Her father wasn't with them. After their argument over whether they should leave Mars, they'd grown distant. Now he was off doing something she wasn't supposed to know about. She missed him, but wouldn't admit that to anyone. Today was the day. The day they would descend to Earth. The day Red had been dreading since they boarded the ship. The trip was supposed to be quick, no more than a month, but it felt like an eternity. Their cabin was small, too small, but at least they had it to themselves. Most passengers had to share cramped quarters packed shoulder to shoulder in rooms with barely enough space to stretch out. Naturally, Blue thought the whole thing was fun, like living on a submarine, whatever that was. Red hadn't bothered learning much about Earth's culture. She'd studied English and earned the highest marks in her class. But beyond that and understanding the science of Earth, she had little interest in what was supposed to be her new home. She imagined endless blue skies and too many shades of green, a far cry from the muted grays and rusty reds of Mars that she loved. Blue let out a loud laugh, then snorted. Ugh. Can you stop making so much noise? Red snapped. I'm trying to read up here and you're disturbing my peace and quiet. Blah, blah, blah, blue retorted. You don't know how to have fun. All you ever do is study. Some of us like to laugh once in a while. You know. I laugh all the time, red shot back. Sure you do, Red. Sure. What do you know? You're such a stinker. Takes one to know one, Blue sang loudly. Will you two stop bickering? Their mother called from her bunk. Her voice was tired, and the faint strain in it didn't go unnoticed. We're lucky to have this space to ourselves, and all you've done since we left Mars is argue. He started it, red muttered. No, you did. Because you stink. Blue shot back. All right, enough. Let's have some quiet before we decide what to order for dinner from the recycler. Red groaned. More food from the recycler. With no space or energy for fresh, manufactured food, everything they ate, drank, and yech otherwise was recycled. The grey goop may have contained all the essential nutrients, but it tasted about as appetizing as Martian dirt. She wondered if Earth food would taste better, or if it would be just another disappointment waiting for her down below. The ship they were aboard was supposed to be a miracle of technology. For generations, scientists on Mars had worked to solve the energy demands of space travel, and what did they do with that discovery? They used it to leave Mars instead of using the energy to save her. Red clenched her fists, frustrated, a familiar emotion lately. She glanced around their cramped cabin, which was just large enough for two bunks, a narrow walkway, and a small screen embedded in the wall for communications. The walls were smooth and silver gray, illuminated by soft white lighting that never seemed bright enough. Beyond the cabin, the ship stretched out like a long hollow tube divided into different sections. Red had explored some of it during the first week of their journey, mostly because Blue had dragged her along. The main corridor was wide enough for two people to walk side by side and was lined with smooth panels marked with faint lines that glowed different colors depending on the section. Green for the living quarters, yellow for dining and recreation, and blue for engineering and cargo. The mess hall had long white tables bolted to the floor and seats that folded down from the walls just in case they lost gravity. The synthetic food dispensers, the recyclers that spat out bland gray cubes or paste like meals, were in the middle. You could eat almost as much as you wanted, but few did. Except blue. The air in the mess hall always smelled bad, like some kind of harsh cleaning agent. The viewing deck was the one place that Red enjoyed. It was located near the front of the ship, where a wide reinforced window showed the vastness of space. Red had stood there late one night, gazing at the distant stars and the faint red glow of Mars shrinking behind them. She had stared until her eyes hurt, memorizing the faint outline of her home until it vanished into the black. Now Earth lay ahead of them, a planet she had only seen on transparent screens. Blue couldn't wait to see it. Red, on the other hand, felt that she was being dragged toward a place where she didn't want to belong. Are you two ready? Let's go eat, their mother called out. It's our turn and you don't want to be late. What are we going to be late for? Red muttered, pulling on her shoes. It's not like there's entertainment or anything. We just have to go in shifts because there are too many people and not enough room in the food hall. Oh, Red, try and cheer up, please. Yeah, Red, stop being a stinker, blue added with a grin. Their mother sighed but didn't say anything as she led them down the narrow hallway. They ate their dinner quickly, partly because they had limited time and partly because no one wanted to taste the gray glop, as Blue liked to call it. Even their mother, usually the most positive of the three, couldn't hide her distaste as she pushed the last bite past her lips. The food dispensers hummed as they prepared the servings for the group across from them, filling the air with the faint scent of something warm but far from appetizing. After cleaning their trays, they made their way to the observation deck. As they approached the deck's entrance, the hallway lights dimmed slightly, a sign that this section was meant for quiet reflection rather than conversation. As they stepped inside, the curved glass window stretched out before them a faint blue and green dot that was slowly growing larger. They were approaching quickly. There it is, their mother whispered, placing a hand on Red's shoulder. Earth. Red pressed her hand against the glass, her eyes fixed on the distant sphere. Earth. It was larger than she'd expected, its blues and greens vivid against the black of space. Too vivid. Too bright. Yuck. It looks different, she murmured, half to herself. Different? Blue scoffed. It looks awesome. Look at all that, Blue. There's so much water. I bet I can go swimming every day. Maybe even surf. Surf? Red glanced at him skeptically. It's like sliding on water with a board. I watched an Earth movie. He grinned, eyes wide with excitement. Red shook her head and looked back at the planet. The sight unsettled her in ways she couldn't quite explain. Their mother placed a hand on Red's shoulder. It's natural to feel unsure. Change is hard. But this is a new beginning for all of us. Red didn't respond as she felt the ship adjust its trajectory. Somewhere deep within the ship, the engines rumbled, signaling the start of their final approach. We should get to our seats in the module, their mother said. Blue practically bounced on his heels. I can't wait. Ugh, red mumbled under her breath. They quickly made their way back to their cabin to grab their bags. Each passenger was allowed only one small bag. No exceptions and no technology. When the AID described this as a completely fresh start, they weren't exaggerating. Upon arrival, they would receive new clothing identities, a lifetime of vaccinations, and complete backstories. No one knew where they were landing or where they would ultimately live. The corridor leading to the descent module buzzed with quiet murmurs and the shuffle of footsteps. Unlike the cramped sleeping quarters and narrow hallways, the module was built to keep passengers secure during atmospheric entry. Rows of seats with sturdy harnesses lined the walls, facing inward toward a center aisle. The walls were padded, and soft lights were embedded in the ceiling. Ventilation grates hummed softly, circulating air tinged with a faint metallic tang mixed with something sharper, perhaps ozone from the ship's system adjusting to Earth's atmosphere. Each seat had adjustable restraints designed to hold both adults and children securely. Though contoured for comfort, Red doubted anyone could truly relax during this part of the journey. A large screen at the front of the module showed their descent path, Earth's surface rapidly growing larger as the ship approached. Beneath the screen, status indicators flashed in steady rhythms, green for stable systems, amber for atmospheric entry protocols. As they strapped in, the lights dimmed and a soft chime signaled the start of the descent sequence. The hum of the engines deepened. Red gripped the armrests as the ship tilted, her pulse quickening despite herself. Here we go. Blue cheered from beside her, his eyes wide with excitement. Red closed her eyes, bracing herself as the ship plunged toward Earth. The ship lurched as it breached Earth's atmosphere, the smooth hum of the engines giving way to deep, bone rattling vibrations. Red gripped the armrest tighter, her fingers digging into the padded material. Her logical mind told her this was normal, just fiction and gravity doing their work. But her pulse pounded in her ears nonetheless. The air inside the cabin grew heavier, as if an invisible hand pressed against her chest, and her breaths came shorter despite her efforts to stay calm. Metallic creaks echoed through the walls as the ship's hull flexed against the changing forces, and the low whine of stabilizers adjusting their pitch reverberated beneath the floor. The soft overhead lights flickered once, briefly dimming as the systems adjusted. Somewhere toward the module's rear A faint clatter echoed as someone's belongings jostled free from a storage compartment. Blue, of course, was unfazed. Whoa. This is awesome. He shouted, his voice rising over the noise as the ship shuddered again. Red squeezed her eyes shut, willing her pulse to slow as another jolt rocked the cabin around her. The faint gasps and murmurs of other passengers mixed with the steady mechanical heartbeat of the ship. Her stomach dipped with the sudden drop in altitude, a thrilling and unsettling sensation like the moment before a fall. The vibrations eased slightly as the ship slowed. Red exhaled through her nose, focusing on the rhythmic hiss of oxygen cycling through the vents. Almost there, she thought. A final jolt rattled through the cabin as the ship made contact with Earth's surface. The sudden stop sent everyone lurching forward against their restraints, followed by an upward pull as the ship's stabilizers adjusted to the planet's gravity. Red's stomach dropped and a strange heaviness settled over her body. It was as if invisible weights had been draped over her shoulders, pressing her down into her seat. Her arms felt sluggish, her legs anchored in place. So this was Earth's gravity. It felt more demanding than what she'd known on Mars. A mechanical hiss sounded as the ship powered down, the deep hum of the engines fading into a distant murmur. There was only silence for a moment, broken by the soft rustle of passengers shifting in their seats and the faint clicks of harnesses being released. Red looked at the screen at the front of the module, displaying live images of a world that looked nothing like home. Blues and greens stretched out beyond the window, vivid and overwhelming. Snow clung to the branches of dense trees, their leaves. So many leaves. So much green. Yuck. Even the sky seemed too large, too wide, a pale winter blue that felt impossibly distant. Red blinked her eyes, adjusting to the unfamiliar brightness. It was too loud, too bright, too much. Somewhere ahead, the sound of hatches unlocking echoed through the ship. Red swallowed hard, gripping the armrests as if to steady herself. She knew the next step would be the hardest of all. Soon the doors would open and Earth would no longer be a distant planet or a blur through the window. It would be real and waiting. And that is the end of this part. Good night. Sleep tight, Sa.