Martian Spring. A small gift to you for the solstice, in commemoration of fathers both near and absent.

The atmospheric condensers worked slowly, using the inner heat of the red planet to release gas from stone. It would be many years before a human would be able to breath the chill air, but each year brought a small change. With time, the atmosphere became thick enough for winged craft to soar like the Martian wrecks, rather than fall sideways on gravity nullifiers. Each spring added a new, if thin, blanket of nitrogen and carbon dioxide to the atmosphere. With this new heat, the sleeping world stirred fitfully. The ice caps were riven with new rivers and waterfalls, primordial pools of icy water and a scattering of uncovered secrets.

These secrets were as varied as they were strange, washed from the ancient ice by the new heat of the sky. Here, a meteorite fallen in the distant past. There, a fossil of some creature long extinct, never before seen by human eyes and distant legend to all other but the Grey Martians. Sometimes the planet gave up her dead, as crashes from the first war were revealed, broken wings bright again. The cold preserves, though it does not heal or renew.

Here we see a Hansa-Brandenburg S.38, likely after the armistice, and painted in the colors of Lothar von Richtofen. It depicts the discovery of the fate of the English pilot ‘Summer’ Lee, who vanished under mysterious circumstances early in the Conquest. There were speculations of various sorts about his disappearance, and possible betrayal of the crown to powers unknown. The discovery of the wreck of his vessel settled these questions, but raised other, stranger ones. His remains were found to have certain changes to the pulmonary tissue and bones that suggested that he had contracted the Dream Plague at a point not only unknown, but earlier than thought possible. These details were not released to the public, but the clearing of the name of a fallen imperial hero by a former enemy was seen as a hope for reconciliation and lasting peace by the populations of a weary world. Lee was buried in the family chapel in Somerset, though the interment included unusual security and safeguards. The chapel is private, and not open to visitors.