The Breathing Schedule

Colony Administrator Chen Wei faced an equation with no solution.

“Current oxygen production: 847,000 liters per day. Current consumption: 846,999 liters per day. Current pregnancy count: 47.”

His deputy, Martinez, frowned at the numbers. “We’re balanced. Barely, but balanced.”

“For now. Each newborn will consume 550 liters daily. In nine months, we’ll be short 25,850 liters. Every day.”

“So we increase production?”

Chen pulled up the terraforming schedule. “Every liter we produce for breathing is a liter not released into the atmosphere. At current rates, terraforming completion: 847 years. If we divert for the babies: 1,263 years.”

The Martian Ethical Committee had been clear: no birth restrictions. Humanity must grow. But the Terraforming Authority was equally adamant: Mars must breathe.

“What if,” Martinez suggested quietly, “we implement efficiency protocols? Scheduled breathing. Optimized inhalation.”

Chen had already run those numbers. “Maximum efficiency gains: 3%. We need 12%.”

The solution came from Dr. Patel in Hydroponics. “What if the babies don’t breathe our air?”

“Elaborate.”

“Gene modification. Engineer the next generation to process CO2 directly. They breathe Mars air, we breathe Earth air. Everyone wins.”

Chen stared at the proposal. Creating a generation of Martians who couldn’t return to Earth. Who would suffocate in their parents’ atmosphere.

“The ethics—“

“Are complicated,” Patel agreed. “But the math is simple. This is the only way both populations survive.”

Chen approved the proposal, knowing he’d just signed the divergence of humanity into two species. The numbers demanded it.

The first true Martian was born six months later, breathing poison, thriving.