My name will be...

Moses fiddled with the device on his wrist again, summoning another autonomous vehicle. The two entered, this time without surprises, and soon arrived at Moses's apartment.

Moses's apartment was a snapshot of life at the lower rungs of Martian society. A 20-square-meter cubicle with bare metal walls and a floor that seemed perpetually stained with red dust. A single flickering neon light hung from the ceiling, casting restless shadows into the corners. The "kitchen" was a counter with an embedded heater, a constantly dripping sink, and two drawers crammed with packets of synthetic food. The bed was built into the wall and could be pulled down, though Moses rarely bothered—he usually slept on a cracked leather sofa, surrounded by boxes of mechanical parts and tools.

A holographic terminal was mounted on one wall, paired with a swivel chair whose crooked backrest looked on the verge of collapse. Clothes and beer cans were scattered across the floor, and a small, frosted window offered a vague view of Mars's reddish-orange sky.

"Welcome to my humble palace," Moses said, spreading his arms as if unveiling a grand estate. "Don't touch anything that looks expensive. It's not, but just in case it breaks."

Mars-1549 glanced around, smiling.

"Man, this is..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "...functional."

"You mean 'a cramped trash can,'" Moses shot back, shoving some metal parts off a chair onto the floor and motioning for Mars-1549 to sit. "No need to sugarcoat it."

Mars-1549 sat down, the chair groaning under his weight, while Moses flopped onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh.

"So... what do you think that was all about at the bar?" Mars-1549 asked, the stranger's image still vivid in his mind.

Moses snapped his fingers as if trying to dispel the question.

"I think the guy was nuts, but nuts with style. Did you see that eye? Should've asked where he got it."

Mars-1549 shook his head, a faint smile escaping before his expression turned serious again.

"Still, there's something I can't shake. What if he's right? About X Company already knowing everything?"

Moses scratched his chin, staring at the flickering light on the ceiling as if it might hold the answer.

"If he's right, we're more screwed than I thought. But that's nothing new, is it? Now, let me ask you something..." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Have you picked a name yet, or are you sticking with being a walking number?"

The question caught Mars-1549 off guard. He crossed his arms, staring at the floor in thought.

"Actually, I've been thinking about it. I want something that means exploration, discovery. Something that represents stepping into the unknown."

Moses raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"And...?"

"Vasco da Gama."

Moses raised an eyebrow higher, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

"Vasco da Gama? Wasn't that the name of a Brazilian soccer team?"

Mars-1549 laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, there was a team named Vasco da Gama. But it's not because of the team. It's for the Portuguese explorer. The guy who paved the way for new routes during the Age of Exploration."

"Ah, the Age of Exploration..." Moses waved his hands theatrically as if steering an invisible ship.

"I'm serious!" Mars-1549 chuckled, then turned earnest. "I thought the name fit. We're entering a new era of exploration, but in space. I want my name to stand for that."

Moses crossed his arms, considering the explanation.

"Alright, Vasco da Gama. I like it. But let me tell you something." He leaned closer, pointing a finger at Mars-1549. "There's no orphanage here to feed you. No free lunches. If you don't figure out how to make money fast, you'll starve. This world is ruthless, my friend."

Mars-1549 swallowed hard, Moses's blunt tone leaving no room for hesitation.

"Alright, so how do I register it?" Mars asked, raising his hands.

Moses grinned, lifting his arm to show the cylindrical device attached to his suit.

"Luckily, this thing does it all." He tapped the screen, which lit up with holograms. "ID registration, documents, even work licenses. All done in seconds."

Mars-1549 leaned closer, intrigued.

"And then?"

"Then they send one of these directly to you." Moses pointed to Mars's wrist. "But be careful—once you're in the system, X Company and all the others will know everything you do. That's how they keep us in check."

"Come on! Use mine; your device will arrive in a few minutes," Moses urged, pushing Mars-1549 to start.

Mars-1549 began filling out the forms: name, date of birth, place of origin—until he reached the "Parent" field. He paused, uncertain.

"And here, Moses? What did you put?"

"Satoshi Nakamoto."

Both burst into laughter.

"Just kidding, kid. Put the name of the orphanage—it'll work. After all, we're orphans..."

Less than ten minutes after completing the forms, a drone arrived at Moses's door, delivering Mars-1549's new device.

Mars-1549 activated it, the screen flickering as it confirmed his identity. Moments later, the system chimed softly.

"Done. I'm Vasco da Gama now." He looked at Moses with a satisfied smile.

"Congratulations, Vasco da Gama," Moses said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now get ready. I found you a job in the Martian mines. Not glamorous, but it pays the bills."

"The Martian mines?" Vasco sighed, but the smile lingered.

"The Martian mines. Nothing glamorous, but it's a start. If you're going to make history, you've got to start somewhere."

Vasco smiled, equal parts excitement and apprehension. The night had started with questions about alien civilizations, and now it seemed he was about to embark on his own journey. Maybe Vasco da Gama was more than a name—maybe it was the beginning of something bigger.

"Alright, get some sleep. We start tomorrow before sunrise."

"But it's still daytime... And where do I sleep?"

"Tomorrow you'll understand," Moses said with a laugh. "You can have my bed—I usually sleep on the couch."