The Red Rock

Chapter 3: The Red Rock

After a short walk through the streets, we were finally standing in Jarek's dimly lit living room. He

reached for a drawer, pulled out a small box, and hurried to the windows, shutting the curtains tight.

“Jarek, what’s going on?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. He returned to me with the tiny box clenched

in his palm, then—dramatically—thrust his fingers open.

I looked at the box. Then at his face. Back at the box. “What’s this?”

“Wait,” he whispered.

The automatic box opened with a hiss. Slowly, the most astonishing stone began to elevate from the

center compartment—glittering, flashing, swirling with its own strange light.

“What the…” My mouth fell open.

The red glistening stone was the size of a golf ball. It sucked the light into it, swirling inside like liquid.

“Cut to precision,” I whispered.

“No,” Jarek said. “It’s rough. Untouched.”

“Except by the sand, of course.”

He smiled. I was speechless.

Moments later

Jarek offered me a beer. I was still staring at the stone.

“Where did you get a Red Rock?” I asked. “I thought they were just a myth.”

He took a slow drink. “When I first heard of it, the idea alone brought me to Mars.”

I laughed. “You mean to tell me you hopped on the first shuttle over a rumor?”

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “I was already running a ferry network between Earth and Mars.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then how did you get your hands on that, and why haven’t you sold it to the

highest bidder yet?”

He looked down. “A ferry I was guiding back to Earth got hijacked by pirates from the Niger Delta. Only

one survivor made it back—delirious. I took the stone from him.”

He saw the look in my eyes.

“What would you have done in my shoes?”

I said nothing. “Did he tell you where he got the stone?”

Jarek nodded. “I spent the last decade searching for it.”

It made sense now—why he’d worn himself out exploring the Martian surface.

“Let’s be frank,” he said, standing. “We’re in turmoil. North-east—Korean overlords. South and west—

pirates expanding. I met a Russian rebel group coming up from the south.”

He slid a bottle across the table, marking territories on his coffee table like a battlefield.

“There’s a brewing war. No one has the upper hand. Unless...”

“Unless the Red Rock can tip the scales,” I said.

He nodded. “And COP produces RTGs.”

“Hypothetically, if we do this—it’ll be dangerous.”

Jarek leaned back. “And you’re telling me you have nothing to gain?”

I stared at him. Waiting.

He exhaled. Then smiled.

Hellas Planitia: The Southern Hemisphere

Jarek stood in the middle of a rebel camp of Terrapods, facing a crowd in mismatched dusty space suits.

“I want to thank you for your loyalty. You brought me Aresite, Deimosite, Olympusite, Vallesite,

Chironite—but only one gemstone will make you rich: the Red Rock.”

A dusty breeze blew through the camp.

“We failed today. We fold camp and return to the Rim. We travel by night.”

That evening, Jarek was cleaning his AK-X rifle when a small man—Unangan—entered and removed his

helmet.

“Yes, Boss,” said the man, scratching his head. “I don’t know this land. If it were Russian, I’d show you.”

Jarek laughed. “You’d pick Red Rocks from the sand?”

The Unangan nodded solemnly. “Boss... does the Red Rock clean the sea? Bring back fish? My people

wait back home.”

“No, little man,” Jarek said gently. “But it can afford you to bring your whole village to Mars and live

well.”

The little man grinned. “Even my wives?”

Jarek nodded with a sad smile.

Just then—gunfire. The Terrapod walls burst open. The Unangan dropped dead mid-sentence. Jarek hit

the ground, grabbed his AK-X, and fired back.

Later

Back in his quarters, Jarek held the Red Rock under the low light.

“Come with me,” he begged. “COP has the resources. We can be rich.”

I hesitated.

Vanessa and Tyron had agreed. They were willing to risk treason for this.

“Jarek,” I asked, “why are you really doing this? With your scars and your past, you could have cashed

out long ago.”

He held his face in his palms.

“I made a promise.”

The Promise

In Earth’s twilight, Jarek stood with a petite woman—Nancy—beside a window watching the storms roll

in.

He opened his hand and revealed the Red Rock.

“Is it real?” she asked, holding his palm.

He wanted to say he loved her—but couldn’t. Nancy was a leader in Friends of the Earth International.

She refused to leave Earth.

“Jarek, this could change everything for FEI,” she said.

“Then come to Mars. We’ll use it for good.”

“I won’t abandon my cause,” she whispered.

“I love you, Nancy. Come with me.”

“Do people even kiss on Mars?”

He laughed. “Yeah, they do.”

“What about my family? My work?”

She turned to leave.

“Wait!” he grabbed her hand. “The ferry leaves tomorrow.”

“Make up your mind, Jarek!”

He looked into her eyes, holding the Red Rock.

“I’ll be homesick. I’ll think about you every day.”

She hugged him tight. “Then promise me. You’ll come back.”

“I will.”

They stood in silence as lightning danced across Earth’s fading sky.