Adrian stepped into the garden section, Modules 22 through 24, a trio of interconnected domes devoted entirely to cultivating life. Inside, rows of metal racks climbed from polished floor to curved ceiling, each shelf holding neatly organized tools and equipment. Every implement ended in a plastic cap, a deliberate safeguard against scratches to the station’s fragile barrier. The air carried a faint hum of climate control and the subtle tang of nutrient-enriched mist, a quiet reminder that even here, life would find its way.

  He could not shake the thought that being on Mars was not his own choice. Dwelling on that notion, however, threatened to trigger another panic attack, one that he had already experienced several times. Slowly, the ample space within the train began to soothe him. Unlike the cramped spaceship domes often seen in movies, his surroundings differed. Instead, he found himself among what appeared to be twenty-five large shipping containers set along a sealed tunnel that, according to the AI September, was capable of holding an atmosphere.

  Even though one could walk through the tunnel in just a few minutes, its orderly arrangement still surprised him. In these three modules, designed exclusively for growing plants, one glaring omission stood out: there was no soil. Spotting several large bags, Adrian collected five of them. This amounted to roughly a couple of hundred pounds by Earth standards. It was not much to begin with, but it was enough to experiment. He wondered whether Martian soil might be usable instead and, if so, what might grow from it.

  Adrian recalled his passion for gardening back on Earth, especially after watching documentaries about London’s underground vertical farms. In those repurposed train tunnels, food grew on racks that spanned from the floor to the ceiling in a highly efficient manner. The setup here mirrored that dense production system designed to feed a crew, yet it was not the kind of gardening Adrian loved. He longed for the challenge of growing beautiful fruits, vegetables, and even ornamental flowers. Sure, feeding twenty people was practical, and even if he were the only participant in a Martian vegetable competition, it might still be fun.

  One peculiar detail caught his attention. There was a simple tap that dispensed cold water. He marveled that such a valuable resource on Mars was as readily available as municipal water delivered through pipes. The garden modules had walls lined with a sloping laminate that directed any spilled water toward a drain for collection and reuse.

  Still unsure of where to start, Adrian looked around and decided to consult the ever-present AI, September.

  "September, can you hear me?" he asked.

  "Of course, Adrian. I can hear you anywhere on this train," the AI replied calmly.

  "Why do you call it a train? We are in a tunnel and nothing ever moves."

  "Mission Control named it a train, likely due to having 25 modules in a line, and that is why I call it a train."

  "Very well. Um, what do I do in here?" Adrian probed further.

  "This is Module 23, known as the Garden, where food is grown," September replied plainly.

  "Any suggestions on where to begin?" he asked again.

  "No."

  Adrian's next task became clear. Earlier that day, the Commander had pulled him aside and explained his assignment. He was to catalogue everything in the modules, verifying that every item on September's inventory list was present. The Commander seemed to want to ease him in gradually to his responsibilities, perhaps in an effort to win his trust. Still, Adrian could not help but feel uneasy. He had never been comfortable in military hierarchies, and the title "Commander" made him uneasy.

  Adrian was pleasantly surprised by the Commander's genuine interest. The Commander listened intently as Adrian described his gardens and asked thoughtful questions, even referring to plants by their proper botanical names. In their first conversation, the Commander requested that September display a photo of a new species Adrian had mentioned. Although Adrian ended up doing most of the talking, he cherished having such a knowledgeable companion.

  Adrian had decided that letting Commander Chase lead was as good as anyone else, he was going to focus on a garden. His immediate goal was to finish cataloguing everything so that he could at least develop an outline to present at the morning meeting the next day. Although the assignment sounded straightforward, doubts quickly arose. What should he grow first? How should the layout be designed? And what if nothing sprouted at all? As these questions swirled in his mind, his stomach churned with anxiety.

  While exploring the space, Adrian discovered what he called the seed bank. It was a refrigerator filled with neatly labeled seeds. There were practical options such as wheat, rice, and potatoes, along with more exotic varieties like lemons, peaches, and strawberries. Although the exotic varieties were enticing, they would use valuable space and take a long time to produce significant yields. With full climate control and round the clock lighting that mimicked greenhouse conditions, growth might be accelerated. He even wondered, half-jokingly, if there were any marijuana seeds available for medicinal purposes.

  Modules 22 to 24, dedicated entirely to gardening, featured extensive racks for setting up planting tubs. Sam and a few others had installed these racks. The tubs ranged in depth from a third to a full foot, depending on the crop. Although Adrian was not the best with numbers, he estimated that with continuous lighting and optimal use of these three modules, they could cultivate enough food to feed the entire crew and assemble a balanced diet. There was, after all, a surprising amount of space.

  At first, Adrian envisioned a mixed garden of vegetables and fruits, each variety nurtured with focused care. With only five bags of soil available, barely enough to get a crop started, and with the only alternative being the prospect of working in a dark, crowded, and airless tunnel, a thought that filled him with dread. He emptied a couple of pounds of soil into a tray and added water, hoping to activate its natural bacteria. While preparing, he began sketching out a plan for a well-balanced crew diet.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  As he organized his thoughts and continued his investigation, Adrian discovered Petri dishes in the seed bank frozen section. They were labeled for carp, tilapia, salmon, and catfish, and nearby were samples of seaweed and algae. The idea of establishing a fish farm flashed through his mind. After all, these were the types of species commonly raised in aquaculture. Yet, despite thoroughly searching Modules 22 and 24, he found no proper fish tank. There was only a small tub measuring a foot, which would be wholly inadequate.

  Curious to explore further possibilities, Adrian moved on to Module 25, the final module in the train. Unlike the others, this module was strangely empty and could only be accessed through a narrow doorway near its edge. Inside, he discovered remnants of what appeared to be a shallow pool, roughly a foot deep. As he navigated the room, walking through the empty pool and circling a recessed wall, inspiration suddenly struck him.

  Needing assistance, Adrian addressed September.

  "September, please ask Sam to come to Module 25 when he is available. Tell him there is no rush; just have him come as soon as he can."

  Within moments, September replied, "I am notifying Sam. He is currently in Module 2 and has indicated that he will come immediately."

  "Thank you, September. I appreciate your help," Adrian said.

  After about five minutes, Sam arrived, slowly making his way down the train. As usual, he was accompanied by a few others. It always seemed that whenever September alerted someone, an entourage naturally gathered. Adrian quickly briefed Sam on his findings in Module 25 and shared his suspicions while asking for his assistance. They all got to work constructing the module to what Adrian had envisioned.

  Adrian was anxious to present his findings, the next morning at the seven a.m. meeting in the command module. His first meeting had been painfully awkward, but over the week, these gatherings evolved into friendly and genuinely enjoyable sessions. Adrian enjoyed starting his day with coffee, conversation, and problem-solving while finally spending time with his fellow crew members in a place where he rarely saw anyone until that moment.

  These meetings in the command module were quickly becoming an essential part of the day. Although Adrian loved his space and gardening, being on Mars made him long for human connection. The sessions provided structure and clear purpose, so by the time his turn came, he felt completely prepared. The conversations balanced nicely with Commander Chase’s thorough oversight and one remarkable piece of technology: the meeting table.

  The table was the centerpiece of each session. It not only held everyone's attention but also featured a holographic projection system that added a futuristic flair. Suspended above the table were three-dimensional images of all twenty-five modules, each clearly labeled for easy reference. With a few swipes, participants could expand or contract the display. When Adrian began to present his findings from the garden modules, he removed the irrelevant ones to focus on the four he wanted to discuss.

  "Regarding the garden," Adrian began, "we have starter stock for almost everything we want to grow. It is an impressive collection, but frankly, there are too many choices. We must decide on which crops to focus for maximum benefit. For instance, we seem to have an endless supply of water. This is a real surprise on Mars; I always assumed water would be a scarce resource."

  "How much water do we have?" asked Chase. "Surely there is some limit."

  "There is a tap in the garden room, and it flows freely," Adrian replied. "I have more to add later about the water, but our main concern is soil. We only have five large bags. I am already dividing them into small planter pots to begin the process while we wait for more. Frankly, I think we will eventually have to import soil from outside. It is frustrating. Soil is all around us here, yet I am not keen on venturing out to collect it."

  The uneasy glances from the crew were cut short when Chase interjected, "Soil is crucial, but we have enough food for now, and we can create seed stocks. We will deal with the external supply issue later."

  Shifting the focus, Chase turned to the facilities design. "In module 24, for example, there is extensive racking. What is its purpose?"

  Adrian explained, "It is not just module 24. Modules 22 and 23 are identical. They are filled to the ceiling with racks that hold tubs ranging from three inches to a foot deep, with narrow aisles between them. These setups are reminiscent of high-density vertical farms. I have seen documentaries on similar systems, and with constant lighting and temperature control, we could produce enough food to sustain everyone."

  "This truly is an amazing train," Luke remarked. "They seem to have thought of everything. But why did they not include soil?"

  Chase offered a theory. "Maybe soil is abundant on Mars, so abundant that they did not import any from Earth. That suggests there might be a way to collect Martian soil. Has anyone discovered an exit point on the train?"

  Luke waited for the low hum of whispers to fade before saying, “Were we just one foot tall and one foot wide, we’d fit through that tiny door in module one. It measures exactly one foot by one foot.” It would not work for us without spacesuits since there is no breathable air outside."

  Chase mulled over this peculiar detail. Suddenly, he sprang to his feet with excitement but quickly resettled when sideways glances began to appear. "That’s it. It's only one foot square, which is an odd dimension. We could probably slip a small bucket of soil through that. Think about it: this train is designed to support us indefinitely, yet a few essential systems, such as air, water treatment, and power, remain external. Without spacesuits, it is clear we are not meant to go outside. Listen carefully: we are not meant to go outside." A hush fell over the group as uncertain glances passed between them. Chase pressed on, "But there is more. This is not just a living facility; it feels like one giant interactive simulation. We must reach level two before we can understand what truly lies beyond our walls. I think I can prove that." Acting on a hunch, he quickly addressed Janette, "LJ, has any mention of that portal, like Luke mentioned, appeared in the code?"

  Janette scrunched her face at the nickname but started tapping at her console. "No, there has not been any mention of a small door in module one," she said. Then her eyes widened as she scanned the display. "Wait, there it is. The code now lists an external access portal for module one. I am sure it was not there before; I have reviewed this code several times."

  "I have looked too," Chase said, frowning. "There was never any mention of a portal."

  Irritated, he commanded, "September, explain why there is now a code for a portal in module one that was not visible before."

  September replied calmly, "The code for the external portal has always been present. It only becomes visible once the portal is discovered."

  "We simply could not see it," Chase countered.

  "Correct, Commander. The portal code is unlocked upon discovery," September stated in its usual measured tone.

  Chase’s frustration flared. "How many other codes are you hiding?" His voice edged with irritation.

  "That information is restricted," the AI responded with unwavering neutrality.

  Chase exhaled sharply. "When did the portal code become unrestricted?"

  "It was made available when you discovered the portal," September replied.

  "And when exactly was that?" Chase demanded, the impatience clear in his voice.

  "You discovered it two minutes ago."

  Chase narrowed his eyes. "Luke, however, discovered it more than two minutes ago, specifically at three twelve p.m. yesterday."

  A tense silence followed before Chase pressed further. "So, who on the crew needs to be informed about this?"

  "Only you, Commander."

  Suppressing his growing exasperation, Chase muttered, "I do not like these games, September."

  "Commander, I detect an elevated heart rate and increased stress levels," September noted in a clinical tone.