See, when they asked me to come on over, I wasn't hesitant. Earth had gotten too small for me. Life for Alastair Singleton was getting simply tedious. I mean, how long can you expect a guy to lounge in his Malibu mansion before he craves something new? I've been to each and every corner of the Green Planet. (That's what us Mars folks call the Earth, in case you wondered). Gotta say, Puerto Rico was a real blast. Aprendí algo de español, you know how it is. But I felt like I could be doing so much more.
Of course I'd heard about Mars, and the rovers, and the amazeballs explorations and discoveries that would change the science world as we know it, yada yada yada. It wasn't until Killian came that I actually paid attention. First thing you should know about Killian, her IQ is beyond counting range. Second only to me, of course. Second, she has one sweet ride. Her blazing red Bugatti is nearly as iconic as she is. Whenever it comes roaring past my guarded gateway, I know there's some real fun not far behind.
Her pumps matched the car. Spikey red heels that clipped angrily across the scorching hot pavement. Course, I didn't hear them. I was submerged in my pool, but it doesn't take a genius to imagine. Matteo, one of my housestaff, brought her to me. He was loaded down with stacks upon stacks of paper, blueprints clutched tightly under an elbow while his hands hung on to the mess for dear life. Killian strode in, a Gucci belt flashing from her waist. Her nut-brown skin shimmered under the midday sun as she removed her cateye sunglasses.
"Killian, darling!" I grinned, throwing my wet arms open wide. Matteo sat his load of documents down on a table. Killian tutted as though perturbed by my gesture to actually get water on her thousand-dollar outfit. But she smiled and returned the greeting calmly. The pleasantries didn't last long. "What have you got for me today, love?" I called as she unearthed a pamphlet from the pool table.
"How do you feel about Mars?" Her voice was smooth as the silk that swathed her crown of curly hair. I was distracted, I'll admit. She was showing all these complicated blueprints and itineraries detailed down to the second, but it all went in one ear and out the other. And who was I to care where some bigshot scientists wanted me? They weren't going to send some charging bull up into the stars, they needed a logical thinker. They needed me. They needed me for the physics I knew and the courage-bordering-on-arrogance they knew I had.