Somewhere on Mars: 19:44
The man in black stumbled into the room, grabbing at the door frame to keep from crumpling into a heap. He squinted around him as his eyes accustomed to the blindingly white walls, the white carpet, the gigantic white computer, thin as paper, sitting on the white desk, and the man in a white suit ,sitting in a white swivel chair facing the desk with his back turned. The man in black took a deep breath and breathed,” We found her”. The man in white kept his back turned “Excellent”, he murmured.”It will...commence”.


12.09 Cherry Road, Somewhere in the U.S.C. (United States Confederation)

This was a matter of life of death. If I failed, then all would be lost forever. And forever is a long time, as I like to say. Slowly, with mind breaking precision, I measured out the ingredients. Sugar, flour, baking soda, vanilla. If even one drop was spilled, or one too many dripped into the bowl, then my cookies would be gone before they even would have arrived. As the last .5 of a walnut was carefully placed on top of my mound of ingredients, the batter mixed and spread on sheets, and placed in the oven, the iphone rang. Its mounted wall screen screeched “Someone is calling you, according to the 145th law of etiquette; you must pick up, or will be fined”. I sighed. Those ilaws were really starting to irritate me. I wiped my hands on an embroidered cloth and jabbed the talk button. A shrill voice filled my kitchen, the iphone speakers booming. “Galactic Granny, YOU ARE IN GRAVE DANGER”.
With these ominous words, my lovely kitchen went black. Immediately, I went into action. Grabbing the embroidered cloth, I twisted it into a sharp whip and held it, ready to let it fly. My feet automatically went into a defensive position; I had done this so many times before. I stood in the dark, waiting for what I knew would come. Suddenly, I heard a creak in the floorboards. “Hiiiiiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”. My feet spun into the air, and made contact with a dark figure, who went sprawling across the floor.
The lights sapped on with a “click”, and I saw who it was. “Oh Jackerino, I’m so very sorry!” My boss stood up, wincing. “It’s ok Galactic Granny, we’ve taught you well. But remember, next time we have a kitchen drill; you must remember not to be so sudden. It could be your downfall”. ”I know, again, I’m so very sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but why have you come?” Jackerino turned to me, a grim expression on his usually jolly face. “We have a... situation. We might have found... them”.
Now, before I continue, I should talk about Rudolph, my dearly departed husband. He grew up in Neptune (yes, I do mean in), and became a plumber. We met at the annual space professions convention, and it was love at first sight. Well, first I high-kicked him in the jaw by accident. We settled down, had some kids and grandkids, but then, something started going wrong. Rudolph was acting...strange. It started when his photo was published in the epaper, when he saw it, his face turned a shade of white I have never seen in my life. Before long, he was wearing sunglasses and a trench coat. And it got weirder, he became downright paranoid. He wouldn’t talk to me, either, and I had just about had enough when he disappeared. Found dead in a watermelon factory on mars, they told me. Couldn’t bring body back because of legal reasons, they told me.
I didn’t believe a word of it, and I was determined to find out what had happened. Jackerino followed me down to the basement as I switched on the overhead light. Immediately, the room was illuminated. Huge overhead monitors glowed in the light, and my shelf of gadgets hung proudly. The room was also filled with cabinets, displaying my many trophies, plaques, and treasures. Jackerino turned around.”Here’s the deal”, he said,” We heard rumors that the Marsian government is hiding something. For us, that explains a lot, so we dug a little deeper. It turns out the the most notorious gang on mars are called the Jackals. They rule the capital, Anchovy, and also terrorize the government. Didn’t take too long to figure it out. They killed Rudolph. To cover it up, they told the government to make all that baloney up. They must be scared of you... You need to find out why they killed Rudolph and what they plan to do next”. I had listened to this in silence, but something didn’t make sense. “What about Rudolph’s behavior”. “You need to investigate that to; we have a private jet waiting for you. But remember,” Jackerino looked right into my eyes, “these people, they’re not like anything you’ve ever seen before. They are...they are monsters. And remember, beware... Mr. White”.
20 minutes later I was cruising at high altitude above Jupiter, on my way to Mars. I was traveling with Confederation Airlines, the huge corporation that had taken over all travel after the second 9/11, 9/62. They had reigned in all terrorism on earth, but it was still quite prominent throughout the galaxy. Confederation airways was luxurious, but still uncomfortable, I thought as I smoothed down my floral dress and adjusted my bee hive hairdo. It‘s hard being fashionable when you’re a crime fighter. But my mind wasn’t focused on fashion at the moment, throughout the whole flight, something had been nagging me. Something was not right.
Suddenly, I remembered. The cookies! They took about 6 hours to bake, because of the new anti-waste laws; you could use fuel only sparingly, so it took a whooping 6 hours. I had about 1 hours left in my flight, it would take roughly 3 hours to infiltrate the Jackal base (this meant defeating the guards and all other security), get into the computers, get as much information as I could from them, confront their leader, discover their plan, and call the F.B.G.I. (Federal Bureau of Galaxy Investigation) positioned outside the safe house to come arrest the gang. It would take another 2 hours to get home, so I had just enough time. I always get slightly nervous before a mission, so I took out the gadgets I had chosen for this mission.
They lay at the bottom of my handbag, positioned so they could be quickly snatched if needed. A pair of knitting nettles that could extend to over 5 feet, an old pin that held a video camera, an acid lipstick that could burn through everything, and a disguise kit. I’d brought the bare minimum, because you needed to register everything that you brought into foreign planets. I gripped the handles of my seat and looked out the window. Huge masses of fire burned in the sky, and the dark surrounding enveloped the jet in a shadow of darkness. Why did I feel so nervous about this mission? I felt as though something ominous was looming over me. “It will go away”, I thought. But it didn’t. Half an hour later, we landed.
“Welcome to Mars, according to the 35.7th law documented in Mar’s constitution, you must register all foreign items brought into Mars. Again, we thank you for flying Confederation Airways”. I followed all the passengers out the gangplank, and exited the airport discreetly, without too much fuss. I stepped out into the fresh air, breathing roses, tulips, sunflowers, and hybrid dandelions. That’s right, Mars was filled with flowers, it had infamously tropical weather, and an abundance of parrots. Now, to start my investigation, I should follow my senses. It was time to head to the nearest bar, where anybody drowsy on root beer (alcohol was outlawed) would spill all their secrets.




Somewhere on Mars: 21:34
The man in white adjusted the wire microphone set that was hooked to his ear. “Ok, boss. We see her, should we move in?” The man in white watched the screen. An old granny in a flowered dress and bee hive hair-do stood at the curb, studying a map. She looked up in the direction of a root-beer pub and walked in that direction. She looked wary of her surroundings. “Be afraid, little granny” he murmured,” We are watching you”