The air is dusty; the scent of debris is endless and Pat’s large nostrils can’t filter all of the particles before they end up somewhere in his body and up his brain. It pains him to think about it, so he sucks it up like everyone else. In and out, and in and out.

Humans, he was told, lived in a much better environment. There was more greens and blues contrasted by the reds and greys Pat has grown up with.

Humans, he was told, is a much superior race that his people killed. His grandfather would creak in his old rocking chair and moan about how pitiful it was. How evil the Martians are. And Pat has to agree. All the Martians brought upon themselves is more suffering. If they had listened and cared for the humans, perhaps Pat wouldn’t be here — digging everyday with no avail to find a new water source.

His daydreaming suddenly ends as Pat hits something solid with his shovel. Just another rock, he thinks.

A smell wafts up. It’s nothing like he’s ever smelled before. It doesn’t smell bad. Just unique and rusty but fresh at the same time. For a moment, Pat’s wishes are finally answered — he lets himself hope. He claws his way through the dirt, tearing around whatever is stuck inside. He invites the debris to sift in his nose; perhaps, he is too excited to care. After four long minutes, the treasure is revealed: a box. But inside, a single piece of leaf. A brown leaf with writing on it.

Pat grasps the leaf with shaky hands. It’s written in the human language, he realizes. But it’s awfully similar to the Martian language as well.

He runs to his grandfathers house to go grab the language referencer. His grandfather held a forbidden copy. Pat has never been so grateful to his grandfather who does nothing all day but groan brokenly in his bed.

He spreads the language dictionary next to the leaf and begins writing. It doesn’t take long before its second language to him — it is similar to Martian after all.

He ends up with short letter which reads: We are left behind. Please, don’t forget us. I have children. Let them on the rocket.

And at the bottom, the letter is addressed to his grandfather.