Late one evening, Zed, Baat, and Janice sat in the hydroponics bay, their legs dangling into one of the grow silos. Staring down into all that green and breathing in the damp air with freshly replenished oxygen touched on something even future astronauts and space explorers would never be able to fully shake loose: a need to be immersed in life.

  As they sat and talked, Zed noticed that Baat was quieter than usual.

  “What’s on your mind, Baat? Hatching some evil plots we should know about?”

  Baat looked up and smiled as if interrupted from a trance. “No, nothing like that. Not me, anyway.”

  Janice and Zed laughed, but they stopped when Baat didn’t join in.

  “Seriously, man, what’s on your mind?” Janice prodded.

  Baat seemed to change the subject. “Janice, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your tattoo. That one on your inner bicep. It came to mind again when the three youths of Naug started sporting their own 'ink,'” Baat said, raising an eyebrow in Zed’s direction.

  “Why? Are you morally opposed to them?” Janice asked.

  “Not at all. I was just curious as to its meaning.”

  Janice told him the same thing she’d told Miranda when she’d asked. She pointed to the different symbols and explained their connected celestial objects. “Obviously humanity hasn’t gotten that far yet, but someday maybe I’ll have a string of planets and moons running down my arm. Imagine that!”

  Baat nodded gravely. “I’ve just been hit with an odd thought, and I’m not sure how seriously to take it, but I think your tattoo represents it well.”

  “I don’t have a clue what you’re getting at, Baat,” Zed said.

  “I know neither of you are believers as such, but bear with me,” Baat said, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

  “In the Garden of Eden, God placed the tree of life. It was meant for humanity to eat from it and live forever. When they chose their own path and turned to evil, God mercifully blocked access to the tree so that they wouldn’t eat from it and live forever in their broken state.”

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  “Yeah, OK, but what’s the Sunday school lesson got to do with my tattoo?” Janice asked.

  “What if—” Baat held his hands out as if trying to grasp something. “What if those potential Martian plants you found are another tree of life, Zed? Except instead of giving life, they give you, well, something else.”

  “Hold on. You’re saying that cave with its weird maybe plants and nuclear reactor is another Garden of Eden?” Janice said, eyebrows raised.

  Baat shrugged. “I’m saying it’s a theory that has been growing in the back of my mind. That’s all. It’s just one of those ideas I can’t quite shake, and there are some ideas growing back on Earth that feel like they’re on the same strange path.”

  A memory triggered in Zed. “You’re actually not the first person I’ve heard say something like that, Baat. I did a talk show before leaving Earth. Jarra Gunnardóttir was there. She said something similar. It seemed super weird at the time, though I think she was probably not taking quite the religious angle. Wait, what do you mean about Earth?”

  Baat rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know, I left Earth in part to escape the discouragement of the everyday downward spiral. But what do I do from Mars? I check the news back on Earth.”

  “Yes, yes. Brain rot Zoomer. Do better. But what did the news say?” Janice asked as she made impatient circles with her hands.

  “It was more than the news, actually. I still have a few friends in various intelligence communities. They’ve all mentioned signs of a growing movement. A cult, really. These people believe that there are pockets of life in the solar system and that they are gifts from God, or a god anyway. Their theology seems a bit fluid. They see it as a sign and regard these other Edens as their divine inheritance or something to that effect.”

  “Whoa, well that didn’t take long,” Zed said. Earth felt so far away that it was a little hard to imagine a large group of people there being obsessed with something going on here.

  “That’s not the best part,” Baat said with a conspiratorial whisper.

  Janice and Zed leaned in closer.

  “Guess who the rumored head of this movement is.”

  “Jarra Gunnardóttir?” Zed and Janice said in unison.

  Baat nodded. “Janice, it may not matter in the end if you believe this theory of mine. It seems that a growing number of people do. We just have to hope it’s a fad and not something that would actually interfere with our work here. Goodness knows Jarra has enough money and influence to make some serious waves if she actually came out of seclusion and mixed in a little religion and politics. That’s a recipe that history does not need baked again.”

  “So now what?” Zed asked, though he was fairly certain he knew the answer too.

  Baat smiled, and Zed saw in Baat’s eyes a flash of who he was in his youth.

  "Let's just see what we find in that cave before we start giving in to flights of fancy."