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under the dome, that was an old joke. The names of the two moons of Mars are Deimos and Phobos. These Greek names translate to terror and panic , because Mars was named after an ancient god of war.
    But don’t think of these moons like the one that circles Earth. Deimos and Phobos are tiny moons, chunks of rock not even 20 miles across. They are lumpy, not round, and they look like potatoes with craters. To us on Mars, Deimos rises in the east and sets in the west. Phobos rises in the west and sets in the east. They move across the sky in opposite directions. I never got tired of watching one moon pass by the other.
    Tonight, though, I wasn’t on the telescope deck to moonwatch. I wanted to see the planet Earth.
    I turned the controls and fine-tuned the focus.
    There it was. A beautiful blue ball, streaked with swirling white as storms crossed the face of it. And behind it, the round white moon, bouncing the sunlight and redirecting it here to Mars.
    I smiled sadly again. The 200 of us here on Mars were so far away. So alone in the vast solar system. To me, the Earth of DVD-gigaroms seemed so foreign but nice—a place of people laughing and crying and falling in love and having picnics in parks and watching the sunset behind mountains and crossing oceans and flying through the air on planes.
    Because of the oxygen problem, I’d never have a chance to see any of that. Or any of the other incredible things about living on a planet that Mom says God designed to make the existence of humans possible.
    I blinked and went back to the telescope. Thinking about what I’d never see, I wanted to cry. But I wouldn’t allow myself to do it. Because out of all the people under this dome, I was the only kid and used to being alone. I’d learned early not to cry, even when I felt like it. I’d learned early that I’d have to fend for myself. Other than my mom and Rawling, nobody in the colony paid much attention to me.
    I stared at the Earth and the moon, hanging in the black of a universe that was so big no human mind could truly understand its size. I sat there a long time, thinking and wondering and feeling sad thoughts.
    Then someone tapped my shoulder.
    It scared me so badly that I would have jumped out of my wheelchair if my legs had worked.
    â€œRelax, Tyce,” Rawling said. “It’s only me. I thought I’d find you here.”
    â€œYeah,” I said, my heart still pounding. “You did.”
    â€œLook,” he said in a strange tone. “We’ve got to talk. It’s about a secret your mom and I have kept from you for a long, long time.”

CHAPTER 10
    Below us, it was dim. Shadows darkened the rows of plants.
    The minidomes looked like black eggs rising from the ground. Only the hum of the electrical generators broke the silence. And too soon, when all the electricity died, there would be no noise at all.
    â€œOutside the dome …,” Rawling started to say in a low voice. He had pulled a chair near the telescope and sat in it facing me directly so our eyes were at the same height. “What does it take for a human to survive outside the dome?”
    â€œI thought you were going to tell me a—”
    â€œOutside the dome,” he said again, “what does it take for a human to survive?” He spoke firmly, like he was quizzing me and wasn’t going to say another thing until I answered.
    â€œWith or without a covered platform buggy?” I asked. The Mars Project has two of them. These monstrous machines ride on huge rubber tires that don’t sink in the Martian sand because gravity is less here than on Earth.
    I’ve seen photos of cars, and platform buggies look nothing like them. The buggies are simply four wheels that support a deck. On the bottom of the deck are the electric engine and storage compartments. On the top is a miniature dome, similar in shape to an igloo, which covers the driver and passenger and can hold up