Logan Mitchell and the Glitch in the Grid

Logan Mitchell could hear the hum of voices as he turned off the main People-Way and crossed over to the Cargo-Way. One of the first structures built, the Cargo-Way was about six meters in diameter and could accommodate a tread-based crawler to move bulky items.
“Come on, slow-poke,” Logan called to the bot that trotted alongside him. “I don’t want to be late!” Logan ran his hand through his thick red hair in a vain attempt to get it to lie flat. It sprang up again as soon as his hand had passed over it.
“I guess there’s a first time for everything?” The bot responded. N.O.V.A. was stenciled on his scuffed white chest. It was an artifact from his days serving with the military. No one knew exactly what NOVA stood for. A blue light shone softly from a line around his featureless black face.
“Funny,” Logan laughed. “I see your humor routine is functioning at peak efficiency.”
“Eleventy-seven percent,” NOVA stated. “Much higher than yours.”
Logan laughed at the bot’s nonsense statistic spoken in his adopted English-butler voice. It made his sarcasm so much more fun.
“We’ll see,” Logan said and picked up the pace. NOVA matched him stride for stride.
Logan and NOVA trotted in the easy loping stride possible in Mars’ thirty-eight percent of Earth’s gravity. The Cargo-Way was one of the few indoor spaces high enough to allow it. It felt good to just let his muscles loose a bit. Logan increased his pace for the sheer joy of it. He began to slow as he neared the equipment bay and dropped into a casual walk as he entered the big room. A crowd had assembled. A big-ger crowd than normal for Games Night.
The smell of…people…hit his nose. Not an un-pleasant smell at all. Just the blending of cooking, soap, and a slight hint of sweat for accent. He took a deep breath. And cookies! He would find those later.
“It’s a little warm in here, NOVA,” Logan said to the bot. “Can you cool it off a bit?”
“The cooling system is functioning at eighty-eight-point-seven percent of design capacity,” NOVA stated. “The greenhouses dictate priority. It won’t hurt you to sweat a little.”
“You sure you can’t reroute just a little cooling this way?” Logan wheedled.
“One hundred percent positive,” NOVA re-sponded.
“What’s a little sweat between friends?” Logan shrugged and turned back to the throng of players.
Logan looked around the assembled kids and adults and picked out his friends, Sasha and Rami, standing near the center of the room. NOVA tucked himself against the wall of the bay. Logan made his way through the crowd to his friends.
Tall for his thirteen years and dark-complected, Rami Patel could barely stand still. He was itching to get on with the game, and it was obvious. By contrast, Sasha Rivera was shorter than Logan, with freckled skin and brown hair. She stood almost as still as a statue and watched as an older man mounted some-thing to the ceiling in the center of the bay.
“So,” Logan began as he approached his friends, “Catch-the-Blink tonight?”
“Yes!” Rami exclaimed. “I can hardly wait.”
Rami began flexing his long legs and jumping up and down in the light gravity.
“Another game that discriminates against short people,” Sasha responded in an even tone.
“It doesn’t have to,” Logan responded at once. Sasha narrowed her brown eyes at him.
“What do you mean?” Sasha asked.
“There’s some strategy involved, too,” Logan replied. Sasha was visibly thinking about this strategy aspect and began to nod.
“Whatcha thinking?” Logan asked her.
“You’ll see,” was her cryptic reply. Logan looked at her and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a smaller female version of Rami ran up to the trio.
“Hello!” Leela Patel, Rami’s little sister, ran up to the older kids. Leela was eleven years old and about to turn twelve. Tall for her age, like most Mars kids. And fast. Logan knew that from a painful race day ex-perience.
“Need a fourth?” Leela asked. Her huge, dark brown eyes sparkled.
“Well…” Rami said slowly. “I don’t know…”
“You’re in!” Sasha exclaimed before Rami could object further. She drew the younger girl aside and whispered in her ear for a moment. Leela grinned and nodded vigorously.
“Players!” a young male voice shouted above the din. The hubbub quieted as Logan looked for the owner of the voice. He found him standing near an ele-vated platform erected for game night. Ben Wu waved his arm to quiet the last of the talkers.
One of the few college-aged interns allowed to join the first wave of colonists, Ben was slated to re-turn to Earth at his second Hohmann Transfer Window, which gave him roughly forty months at the Hab since he had to wait for the most efficient flight back to Earth. The rest of the colonists had immigrated lock, stock, and barrel. The Hohmann Transfer Window was when the orbits of Earth and Mars align for the short-est flight between the two planets. The Hohmann Win-dow came around about every twenty-six Earth months.
“Okay then,” Ben continued. “Tonight it’s Catch-the-Blink. Have you entered your teams?” Lo-gan looked at Sasha. She circled her open fingers in the direction of Leela and herself, then around Logan and Rami. All three nodded in response.
“Cool,” Logan responded. “We’ll make a great team.” Sasha grinned at him.
“Up first,” Ben called in a loud voice, “Team Rivera versus Team Mitchell!” Sasha grinned again at Logan, then sprinted to where Leela stood waiting on one side of a square taped on the floor with red cargo tape. Logan was taken aback but only for a second. The boys took their position on the opposite side of the tape square. Logan grinned back at Sasha.
“Remember players,” Ben Wu’s voice boomed over the speaker, “be a good sport or stay out of the game tonight!”
Logan pointed a finger in Rami’s direction. Rami’s mouth formed a very small grin.
“Ready!” Ben called. “Set! Go!”