Prologue

March 2120

Los Angeles, California, Earth
 

"Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Langley," she said.

"You're welcome, " Paul said. She was young, like all the online reporters these days were. She would probably make enough money to look 25 forever.

"Let's get started, all right?"

"All right," he said. He sat back in his favorite chair.

She checked that his microphone was on correctly and turned on her camera. "Hi, I'm Jenny See. You're watching NewsNow.net. Today is the twentieth anniversary of famous Martian composer John Martin's death. I'm talking with his longtime friend and collaborator, Paul Langley." She turned toward him. "Mr. Langley, what was it like working with him for all those years?"

  "First off, Miss See, we only worked together once."

"That was my next question! You and John wrote the song "Worlds Apart" in the lush green landscape of Mars—"

"Green, nothing. Back in the '50s, when I met him, Mars was still the Red Planet."

"It was?"

He snorted. "Of course it was!"  God, she was just like Salli. He was too old for this nonsense, but he had to get John's story straight. It was his last chance.  At the age of 103, he didn't have many years left. "What do you want to know about the song?" Everyone kept asking him about it. He wished he had never suggested it to John, but he wasn't about to tell this brainless girl that.

"Did you like writing that beautiful melody?"

He shook his head. "Where'd you get that idea? John wrote the tune. The words were from a poem of mine."

"It's a beautiful song, anyway. Have you talked with his widow recently?"

"Yeah, Brenda and I had lunch last month. She's doing well."

"She used ancient Martian spells to make him famous, " she said.

"Did he have a good relationship with his son?"

"Well, I don't know much about that, so I won't go into it. You'll have to ask him, but I think they got along."

"What have you been doing to celebrate?"

"Celebrate what?"

  "This anniversary."

"Why would I want to celebrate his death? I wrote a poem about him and his life, which is in my new e-book out this week."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Langley," she said.

  "Sure," he said.  She turned off her little camera and removed his microphone. He didn't see her out, like he hadn't seen her in.  Thank God that was over. All that would be was three minutes of edited-down footage. No one could get a sense of who John was in three minutes. He hadn't set anything straight. That stupid girl only cared about the now: John was a dead man who wrote everyone's favorite song.

He had been much more than that.

Chapter 1

I never wanted to move to Mars in the first place. I was twelve when my parents decided they wanted to live in the new Martian colony, Olympia. It had been settled in 2042, fifteen years earlier. It was still a small town. I knew that in small towns, everyone knew everyone else, so I was worried about being the new kid.

The flight was shorter than I thought it would be. The spaceport was right outside of town. I was very surprised to see it encased in a plastic bubble. I thought we'd live in giant spacesuits or underground. My mother opened the hatch for us. There was the town spread out before us. A large park-like space was to the side of it. About 200 people were sitting or standing around on it.

The first person to notice us was a middle-aged blonde woman. She came towards us as the hatch closed. "Hello! You must be the Langleys. I'm Laura Martin. Welcome to Olympia."  I learned later that she was one of the original colonists who set it up.

"Thank you, " my father said.

"This is the Green over here," she said, pointing. "Would you like to meet my son? He 's around here somewhere." She scanned the crowd for him. "John! Come over here and meet the new arrivals!"

A skinny black-haired boy walked over to us. "Hi," he said. "You must be Paul," John's mother said, looking at me. "John is twelve, just like you."

John looked at me.  I was chubby then, and self-conscious about it. I thought he was going to tease me, but all he said was, "Mom, can I show them our house?"

"They should get settled in first. Where are you living?" Laura asked my mother.

"25 Hall Street."

"Oh, good. We live on 35 Hall Street. Go ahead, boys."

"Thanks, Mom," John said. "Come on, Paul." I followed him. They lived near the edge of the Green. Their house was part of the old military barracks. The kitchen area was next to his bedroom. The two beds were sunk into the floor. A girl who looked about seven was sitting on the left bed, listening to music.

"Paul, this is my sister Salli."

"Hi," I said. She didn't look up.

"Sallina!" John said.

She took the ear buds out of her ears. "Don't you ever call me that!"

"She hates her real name," John said.

"Salli, this is my new friend Paul."

"Hi, how're you?" she said. I started to say I was fine, but by then she'd put the ear buds back in her ears.

"Is she always like that?" I asked.

"Most of the time. She listens to music or reads the e-zines from Earth."

We went over to look at his side of the room. He had a keyboard next to his bed. " This can sound like any instrument ever made. I just started lessons." 

"What kind of music do you play?" I said.

"Lots of kinds. I wish it could play ancient Martian music, but it's not programmed for it yet. Do you like music?"

"Sometimes. I like poems."

"What kind of poems?" I shrugged. "I dunno. Robert Frost." He was the only one I could remember, since I learned "Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening" in school.

John's mother came in. "Paul, your mom wants you to help unpack."

"Okay," I said. "John, you wanna come over to my house tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"Cool! Nice to meet you; 'bye."

" 'Bye, Paul." I said goodbye to Mrs. Martin as I left and ran down the street to my new house. I saw Phobos and Deimos in the rose-orange sky.

Our house was bigger than John's because it was newer. There was a living room space between the kitchen and the two bedrooms. My parents had their own room, and so did I. We weren't all together like at John's house. The one bathroom was down the hall. I liked my new house because it was very similar to my house on Earth.

The next day, John and Salli came over. My mother was at work, so my father made us a snack and we sat down on the big chairs in the living room. Salli started talking about her favorite band and their new e-lbum. John told me that back in the early part of the century, musicians made their music on "compact discs," or CDs, that you could actually touch and pick up. You needed a CD player to listen to them, instead of any computer.

Salli thought that was weird. "What were they made out of?" she asked.

"Plastic with aluminum and acrylic on top," John said.

"They started doing that in the beginning of the century, so CDs became things that only old people used."

"Oh, good," she said. She ate a carrot stick.

We talked some more, about school, and what I thought about the town. Then they left. I thought it was a good day that day.

Time passed, and John and I were in high school.  I became more interested in poems, so much that I had begun to write them. I brought a few over to John's house one day.  When I got there, he was fiddling around on his keyboard.

"John?"
He looked up.

"Oh, hi. I'm working on this new one. I'm almost done, I think."

"Okay, I'll let you finish." I sat down in a chair, and looked through some of my poems. I'd just broken up with my girlfriend, so they were all about heartache and lost loves. One of them was called "Worlds Apart." It was a few verses long. I started reading it, while John played his melody from the beginning.  It was very catchy. I hummed it as I read my poem. I got halfway through when I realized his melody fit my words. I sat up straight. "John!" I said.

He stopped. "What?"

"They make a song."

"What makes a song?"

"Your tune and my poem. Look."

 He read it, humming the melody. "You're right. They do. What should we do?"

"I have an idea. Salli's into music, right?"

"Yeah." I told him what I had in mind. He went to find her.

"We only need your recording equipment for a little while," I said.

"Please, Salli. We'll give it back in an hour, " John said.

She thought about it. "All right. An hour."

"Thanks," I said.

John grabbed the two microphones and the recorder that stood on the table next to her. "Yeah, thanks," he said.

We fought for a while over who should sing it. John thought I should sing it because it was my poem and my idea. I told him that I wasn't a good singer, and he was much better at it. He finally agreed. It took us the hour to get a version that we liked. John made it into the right file type. We decided that I would take it back with me when I moved back to Earth next month. (There're weren't any music companies on Mars then.)
My father's job finally caused the move.  It was hard to say goodbye to my friends. John hoped that they could visit me soon. I said I hoped so, too.

There were a million music companies on Earth, so it wasn't long before "Worlds Apart " was out on the 'net. It was the most downloaded song for a year. Everyone wanted to know when we would release a new song. I told them that we weren't a band, and just did that for fun.

The explanation seemed to work, because every few years, a new group of people would discover it, and it would become a hit again. John was happy when I told him the news. It was his dream to become famous. Every one wanted to meet him. Just him, not me. I kept saying, "But I wrote the words!" The listeners only cared about who sang it. As far as they were concerned, no one actually wrote songs; they appeared out of nowhere to be sung.

I continued to write poems. I sold a few e-books, both on Earth and Mars, but none of them sold as well as "Worlds Apart." I was disappointed that my reputation seemed to be connected with the song, but John didn't mind. He was famous, which was all that mattered to him.

I think Salli was happy to have a famous brother. If she hadn't been trying to be a singer herself, we wouldn't have had her recording equipment, and we wouldn't have become famous.

Chapter 2 

My brother John was famous. I guess I had a hand in starting it. I wasn't a good singer, fortunately. I'm an actress now, under my real name, and I'm much better at it than singing.

John was interested in all sorts of things besides composing. He liked old books and music, which I wasn't into for most of my childhood and high school. In high school, I had a boyfriend, Mike, who was into some of the things I liked. I eventually dumped him after he and John became friends. I remember the day I made that decision.

We were in school, and Mike was asleep as usual. The teacher always announced the topic we would learn that day. He would go to sleep if it was something he didn't care about. That day it was the political implications of September 11, so he was asleep. We got very used to the teacher waking him up with "Mike! What did I just say?"

He said, "Afghanistan," and he was right. I could never figure out how he did it. I swore that he was deep asleep until the teacher asked him.

Anyway, after school, Mike and I met John.  He admired my new outfit, a tight-fitting silver and dark green dress." That dress suits you, Salli, if you're planning to be Princess of Mars," he said.

Everyone called me the Princess of Mars because I always wore the latest fashions, no mater the cost. Now that I'm an actress, that's my title, like the ancient "America's Sweetheart" title. But I don't plan to stop acting anytime soon.

"Shut up, John," I said.

"Whatever you say, Princess."

Mike walked over to John. "Hey, I just found this really cool song on the 'net. It's really, really old."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"It's called 'This Land Is Your Land.' It’s about America." He pulled out his player.  John listened.

"Wow! That is cool!"

"Don't you think it's cool, Salli?" Mike asked.

"So why don't we break up then?" he said.

"That's fine by me!"

"Great. I'll go find a new girl who actually cares!"

He walked off. I was very shallow in those days.  I realize now it was a stupid reason to break up with him.


Soon after that, John and I and our parents went to visit Paul back on Earth. I forgot to take my space sickness pill before we left, so I threw up through the first part of it. Other than that, it was uneventful. Paul and his parents were waiting for us when we landed at the spaceport.

"Hi, John! Hi, Salli!" he said as he walked over to us.

"You look nice," he said to me.

"Thanks."

"John, where'd you get that shirt?"

He rolled his eyes. "It was a birthday present from the Princess. She didn't know I look horrible in bright orange."

"It was the fashion then!"

"What do you mean, then?" Paul said. "John's birthday was last month, right?"

"Things change," I said.

Paul and his family lived a little bit away from the spaceport. We rode in their car. "What's that?" I said, pointing.

"That's a palm tree," Paul's dad said. "We don't have those in New Mexico, where I grew up. Florida sure is different."

"Oh, no, here we go," Paul said.

"If it wasn't for Central Park, I would've never seen a tree growing up!" Dad said. They went on like that for most of the ride. We three kids were very bored.

"Do they do that a lot?" I asked John.

"I mentioned to Dad that John Lennon lived in New York City, and he went on for two hours about a tour of the Dakota he went on, before they tore it down."

"And if you mention New Mexico to my Dad, he'll go on about it forever, too," Paul said.

"That's good to know," I said. John said that this John Lennon person inspired one of my favorite bands, Musyc.

John knew some other inspirations for the other bands I liked.  I think that was when I really started to connect with my brother.