Marigold is clearing the bar. The drunks are collapsed in the corners, leaning on things. Marigold pretends to light a cigarette. There are no real cigarettes on Mars because oxygen is not free. And tends to explode if you’re not careful.
The Tiki Bar seems to be accumulating science fiction authors. Marigold slides what looks like a rum and coke to William Gibson. Will looks deep into The Heart of Darkness and sighs.
“The future of yesterday’s past. It’s all in this glass. Cheers.”
As the timekeeper of yesterday’s tomorrow, Marigold has to agree.