Bella has watched a simple, managed Martian ecosystem and a glitteringly colorful first city pour procedurally out from assorted points of origin on her computer with a variety of rand seeds, and picked the prettiest result.

She's standing on that ideal origin spot now - the top of Olympus Mons, under a blue-dyed sky and a breathable layer of atmosphere - holding her laptop which holds this specification under her left arm. All present to witness this moment are Alice, Libby, Lazarus, and Bridget.

She defangs a trio of stars: one for the terrain, one for the wildlife, one for the city of Olympus. To be dramatic, she squares them off her bandolier and holds them high in the air between the fingers of her right hand.

"Welcome to Mars," she says.

Wishwishwish.

Moss ripples out from under her feet and carpets the landscape, giving way to forest further downhill and, further away, to freshwater ocean. Birds, startled by their existence, take off. An instant later they're all standing at the foot of her crystalline tower that sits at the center, watching skyscrapers riddled with magical appliances sprout from the ground, and streets pave themselves with smooth tiles.

Bella defangs more stars and lays down what she's taken to calling Ground Rules with another gesture. Mars is going to be peaceful. Mars is going to be safe. Mars is going to watch its people and report to her.


Mars is going to be the seat of the Empire of the Stars.

(There's a flag, on the spire of her tower. It's sky blue, and there are half a dozen seven-pointed stars spangling it. It ripples in the breeze that's begun to waft in from the sea.)