Fly on the Wall

By: submission | July 17, 2026

Author: Alastair Millar

“Damnedest thing, had a fly in my quarters last night.”
We were back at Marvin’s, me and the crew, kicking back after a double shift. It’s not the fanciest place in town, and not the cleanest or most reputable, but it’s solid. The kind of place they don’t fleece you if you’re drunk, or object too much if you get a little rowdy. A good bar, in other words, and a welcome refuge after a hard day.
Maggie laughed, and excused herself to visit the facilities. Brad and Everett just smiled, and went back to their card game. But Old Man Doug, who’d been doing the job longest, gave me a slow, calculating look.
“A fly?”
“Seriously. A tiny fly. Or a gnat, or something.”
“You been up to no good, Johnny?” was all he said.
“Huh? Me? No. Why would you even ask?”
“Well, I didn’t think you were the type, but… you been partaking of something illicit, maybe?”
“No!”
“Sure about that? Not been buying a bit of OchreDust on the side? Or found yourself a Phoebite supplier you forgot to mention to the rest of us?”
“Look, I have not been hallucinating, if that’s what you mean. The blasted thing was there! Still is, for all I know.”
He raised his eyes to the ceiling as if in prayer, then gave me a disapproving look.
“Kid, you’ve been here eight t-months, you should know better by now. There’s no bitey bugs in Marsport.”
“I tell you, I saw it.”
“Then you’ve got a problem.” He raised a hand before I could protest again. “No, not because of drugs. Hell, my mind’d be easier if I thought it was. But there’s only two things it could mean, and neither of them’s good.”
“What? Hell, now you got me worried.”
“Two things,” he repeated. “First: there really was a gnat in your room, in which case something’s got through all the checks and controls, and it’s an environmental risk. You report it, biocontrol will be all over you, you’ll likely get isolated for observation while they fumigate your place, and you’ll lose money, ’çause you won’t be able to work. But more likely it’s artificial, which means it belongs to Security, which means they’re keeping an eye on you. Which brings us back to what you’ve been up to lately.”
I went cold.
“I… well… there was a girl I met at the late-night store and took back to mine a couple of evenings ago. That’s all, I swear! But she was kind of a radical, spouting on about how Mars should be independent and all.”
“Lord save us, you really are green still. If she’s a Subversive, it likely followed her in, and now it can’t get out. Or they want to see if you’re in her cell or not. Don’t panic, the heat will pass, eventually.” He drained his mug.
“But what should I do?” I wailed.
“Open a door for it? Or maybe do yourself a favour when Maggie gets back, and start paying attention to the hints she’s been dropping for the last month, instead of going out and picking up randos. But whatever you do, don’t swat it, they’ll think you have something to hide.” Then he grinned. “Just don’t let it bug you!”
I groaned, and made for the bar.