The Hermit of Mars

At ninety‑one, Martin Devere is the lone human still breathing the thin Martian air. Once a promising archaeologist, he now spends his days in a pressurised igloo, cataloguing ancient relics and sending routine reports back to Earth, even as the supply rockets arrive and depart with a predictable rhythm. He discards the fluff—micro‑filmed newspapers, taped concerts—keeping only what he truly needs, and he guards the artifacts he uncovers with a quiet, stubborn pride.

When a larger, unannounced rocket thunders onto the horizon, its arrival shatters the monotony of his solitude. Two suited figures, perched on a sand‑cat, step out, forcing Martin to confront the reality that the Institute has not warned him of any visitors. The surprise visit awakens old memories of his departure from Earth, his divorce, and the health warning that made a return impossible, leaving him to weigh the cost of re‑joining a world that has long moved on.