North Station, Mars, January, 2078, Wednesday…

Jerry Fong winked at Marie Dupont.

"You've been here two months and haven't tried my hot and sour soup?"

"I'm French, remember. We have the best cuisine there is. I'm not into oriental cooking."

"On Mars, honey, you're lucky to have hot and sour. Or did you find some little French bistro just around the corner?"

She laughed.

"Of course not. I'm in the minority here. Eighty-five per cent Chinese at both North and South Station last we counted. Your company only needs me for my water purification expertise, not my cuisine."

"And you're a good cook?"

"At home. In the Latin Quarter I have a nice little flat that's all paid up. My sister and her husband are renting it from me while I'm on this mission. What about you?"

"Your little flat is probably twice the size of the one I grew up in with my mother, father, and older brother - real estate is at a premium in Shanghai. However, my mother taught me some real simple but tasty dishes. Hot and sour is a good way to make tofu at least palatable. We've got a lot of it around here, you know."

"All right. I'll try it."

They were cooking up a midnight snack in the little community kitchen that they shared with eighteen other employees of Water for Life, a Chinese company that dominated the water mining activities at the north and south poles of Mars.