Well well well. Wasn't Charles in for a little treat? One moment they were making their way through the diaphanous purple and gold vortex, and the next-- Well Charles would probably puke his guts out. The vortex was not kind to the inner ear at all, likely because it was sling shotting travelers through time and space in a matter of moments.

Should he throw up, he would be doing it on pinkish concrete, bright red grass lining the road. Mars did like to live up to its name as being The Red Planet. And as a tourist destination, it was certainly prone to making tourists happy.

Above them stretched a mile high dome, random panels of which flashed advertisements. There were shops settled back from the main street and further ahead were tall dome-scrapers.