"Rusted Hall" Union Grange 1503

The Union Grange 1503 was a squat box of prefab building and cargo-container modules that sat on a low rise 1200 KM south of the orbital anchor city of Olympia, atop Olympus Mons. This far out there was nothing but rolling fields of bio-fixed genecrops; Cassava, hyper-productive moss, grass that fed the massive cattle and pumped in tons of CO2. The bioengineered cattle that roamed in massive paddocks had hair that was as red as the sands of Mars and horns that twisted and spiraled in planned whorls and fractal patterns. All of these details flashed briefly past the blank eyes of a lone Martian Ranger who was slowly banking his hov-truck around a large squat building, looking for a good place to set down. The truck lowered itself down to near the ground and deployed its smart wheels; the vehicle settled and turbofans began to spin down in the red dust storm that they picked up.

The Ranger stepped down from his rig and adjusted his Stetson hat, setting it just over the top of his face mask and walked into the grange. The first set of doors rose open as he approached, motion sensors activating unthinking servos and opening the inner chamber to the harsh Martian winds. As the ranger passed into the chamber the first door swung down just as the inner door opened allowing only a small breeze to pass into the hall. No one turned to look at the new entrant. Throughout the hall, they were all sitting in various chairs around the dance floor. On the floor, Martian kids danced in an elaborate and very practiced partner dance. Their white and gold attire shined in contrast to their deeply red-tinted skin. The Ranger felt a small smile bloom on his face, the kids were dancing because they were turning ten. Back when the Corps controlled the birthrates and genefixing on mars they made sure all of their employees needed genetic service packs constantly. Being a homesteader and having a kid get to ten without dying from a poorly coded planned obsolescence was something to celebrate. And the fact that the Corporations made it so kids were always conceived in exo-wombs in batches that were "economical" you got really close to your friends when you all share the same birthday. The tradition of batching kids still carries on as a part of the martian culture and they try to pass it on even 2 generations after the Corporations were destroyed.

He walked through the hall and went back towards the kitchen, there two older Rusters worked to combine ingredients from cornucopia machines into dishes made out of red sand glass. Nodding to them briefly as he slid into the storage of the grange. Among racks of nanoslurry and feedstock a barrel made out of printed bamboo sat against the back wall.