Chapter one

It was a simple device, a folly in brass and silver. A collection of tiny cogs and gears; a small lever used to wind the spring and drive the movement. The delicate metalwork that surrounded the clockwork was in the shape of a bird. A robin. When wound up the robin would slowly flap its wings and turn its head. Tiny glass beads in place of eyes glinted red as the late afternoon sun flooded in to the apartment, reflecting the light onto the legs of the adults sitting across the room as the head repeated its gradual sideways turn and the clockwork emitted a gentle click click click.

Rose was fascinated. She sat cross legged on the cushion she'd dropped onto the wooden floor, the robin carefully placed in front of her. The adults had commandeered the comfy seats, her mum shooing her off as the others arrived. Since then she had largely been ignored, her aunt pausing to ruffle her hair and complement her robin before joining the others sinking into that familiar trance state those accessing the ultranet tended to exhibit. But Rose had her robin, so that was ok.

Click click click

Just two hours ago the robin hadn't been a robin at all. Rose sat at the dining table staring at a small pile of metal pieces. She had loved the robin as soon her uncle had given it to her, a present after a work trip to China. But she also had a questioning desire to understand how it worked. Her stomach had tightened, part nervousness about what Mum would say if she couldn't put the robin back together, but equal part excited about the challenge she faced. Wiping a loose strand of hair from her face, Rose had picked up the micro-driver and started to join together the tiny pieces. She had thought about downloading a technical diagram of the robin to overlay the workspace and guide her construction, but it was like the diagram was already in her head, her hands moving automatically as she lost herself in the smell of the grease and metal. So clear was the process of her construction, her Intensified Reality glasses had felt like more of a distraction than a help. Notifications of homework due for uploading, or friends requesting contact blinked at the edges of her vision. She'd taken the glasses off in the end, discarding them at the side of the table.

Click click click

The robin was finished, Rose sat proudly at the table, once again enraptured by the turning of the head and flapping of the wings. Her Mum had bustled into the room at that point, bottles of drink clinking in the box she carried. Rose was just about to make her exit with the now complete robin, but it was too late. With that eye for trouble that seems to become second nature in a parent, her Mum saw the mucky hand print on the table, and smear of grease on Rose's cheek. Uttering curses about her idiotic brother (Why couldn't he have bought back a practical present? One of those new accelerated learning courses the Chinese software houses were churning out maybe?) Rose was hurried to the bathroom and urged to clean up before the guests arrived. This wasn't the first time Rose's mechanical curiosity had got the better of her, in fact it was this curiosity that had made her Uncle think of his niece when he saw the robin while browsing a market in Shenzhen. Previous exploits - the rubbish compactor or the culinary unit sprang to mind - had driven her Mum to despair. It wasn't the fact that Rose was less successful putting those items back together, more her Mum worried that Rose lacked anywhere near the practical application to her virtual studies, the studies that were needed to progress in the real world. The networked world.

Click click

The spring was almost unwound, the robin's movement slowing. Rose thought about giving the lever another turn, whether the adults would notice that she still didn't have her IR glasses on. They all still sat quietly around the room, their range of movement limited in a way that reminded Rose of the robin. Some raised their hands from time to time, fingers moving up and down as if conducting an invisible orchestra. While this looked unnatural to the outside observer, behind their own IR glasses fingers manipulated icons, selected video feeds or typed messages. Others were murmuring gently, the mic in their glasses picking up instructions or transmitting conversations. There really was no need for them all to be in the room together, they would have been connected where ever they had resided. Normally they wouldn't be; Rose couldn't remember the last time her family had gathered in such a way, probably when she was a baby, maybe when Uncle Robert and Aunty Sara celebrated their union.

Click click

But today wasn't a normal day. It was a day of celebration. 'A day for the world to stand together', the electronic media had called it. A little under six months ago the United Earth Space Agency hyper-shuttle xī wàng III (literal translation: hope) had touched down on Mars. The manned mission was the first of its kind. With so much automated these days, the event had been a sensation; the ultranet nearly ground to a halt under the access requests for the delayed feed of the landing. As good as the machines were, as good as the ultranet is at linking people, humans relate to humans. This theme exploded onto the global information networks, and soon the #standtogether call on the ultranet had reached fever pitch. To welcome the returning astronauts the idea was that families would come together, communities would stand united; not the virtual ones that dictated much of life today, but real ones. It was heralded as a new dawn.

Click click

To Rose, however, it was more of an irritation. She didn't see why it was so important for everyone to be in the same room together. She hadn't ever met many of her school friends, centrally taught as most children were these days. Sure, it was fun to play with the other children on the apartment block, but it was just as fun, maybe more, to play with children hundreds or even thousands of miles away. She'd sat through her Grampa's soliloquies on the disconnect of "children today", his curses about the invasiveness of the ultranet and belief that "maybe those Regressionists had a point", although that comment drew a swift rebuke from Mum. Even now he refused to wear a set of IR glasses, preferring an ancient touch screen computer, something he could actually touch rather than "fiddle with nothingness", a term that had made Rose giggle. Her Uncle Robert also rejected IR glasses, but for the opposite reason. On returning from China he looked much the same, aside from a small shimmering holographic tattoo just below his right eye. The simple diamond shape announced him as one of the few on the bleeding edge of innovation to have had his own corneas augmented. The glasses sported by the remaining occupants of the room differed in shape and colour, manufacturers competing on the basis of this style as well as the grand claims over what the technology they housed was capable of. Rose's own glasses were white, with pink detailing on the hinges and bridge. She would need a new pair soon, growing as she was. However, they would do for now as she picked them up as her mother finally noticed that she had not linked in to the family's data feeds.

Click

The shuttle was entering the upper atmosphere, camera drones dotted in the sky tracking its flight. Rose called up a countdown timer; still seven minutes and 20 seconds before touch down. A map overlay traced a dotted line from the shuttle's current location to the Jiuquan Shuttle Centre, deep in the Gobi Desert. Rose swapped this for a live feed from the shuttle's interior. The crew of eight were tightly strapped in, each only identifiable by the flag on their shoulders; three Chinese, two Americans, an Indian, Nigerian and German. Five men and three women, although under the bulk of the flight suits it was impossible to tell which was which. The picture started the break up - probably creaking under demand - so Rose switched back outside to the closest camera drone, with a current speed overlay; still a hypersonic Mach 5.2.

Click

Just one minute 12 seconds to touchdown now, and against all expectation, Rose was starting to get excited. Her Uncle had sent over some video files of the landing on Mars. Super high definition pictures from the remote rover, positioned to record the two men exiting the shuttle together; Peter Lansdown and Yang Junlong. Rose didn't fully understand the symbolism of the two men from the two superpowers touching down on the planet together, but the clarity of the picture made her feel almost like she was there herself. Back to the live pictures and the shuttle could now be seen from the ground cameras. This was good as Rose had lost a lot of the feeds from the airborne drones. The shuttle was leaving a long vapour trail, wing-tips and air-brakes glowing red as the camera zoomed in. Just the simple text line "look at you Mum" popped up from her Uncle. Rose looked up and her Mum was actually crying. She'd worked on a piece of the software for some of the shuttle's lower level life support systems - this was the culmination from a lot of hard work.

Click

The ground cameras had now also began to break up, while the airborne ones were still reading as offline. Rose began to complain, but was hushed by more than one of the adults. The shuttle was approaching the runway. Fast. Rose's Uncle shifted in his seat, while she could see her Grampa so close to his screen that his nose was almost pressed up against it. "They're going to overshoot" said her mum out loud - the voice to voice network hissing with interference preventing networked chat. The shuttle then violently swung, first pitching upwards, then nose tipping back down. Rose shared a gasp with the adults as now the shuttle banked sharply to the right. "Must be abandoning the approach" but her Mum didn't sound convinced. The shuttle was now heading away from the camera position. But towards the local command and control tower. "Pull around, PULL AROUND", Rose's Mum was near frantic, stood up now, glass of wine falling to the floor, forgotten.

The shuttle hit the command centre in a flash of brilliant white.

The feeds cut out.

The robin stopped moving.