The text introducing Part One: Life in the Trenches

Following is the text, the preface (?) for Part One. The stories in this initial section deal with early life in Mililani, from childhood to the start of high school... Although it would be thematically consistent to have all stories deal with the end of innocence (in degrees, perhaps), I'm afraid that not all of the three (four?) stories in this section do. But what they do share, largely by design, is the common image of the "trench"...

I start with a quote taken from Wikipedia about Mars itself, and then attempt to tie the quote into the general theme of the stories within this "part."

Here goes:

Part I. Life in the Trenches
“The Italian word canale (plural canali) can mean ‘canals’ (including artificial canals or ducts) or ‘channels’ or ‘gullies’. This ambiguity also exists in cognate words in other Romance languages such as French (canal), and also in German (Kanal).

It is often stated that Schiaparelli [an Italian astronomer who observed Martian ‘canali’] intended the meaning ‘channels’ and that ‘canals’ was a misunderstanding or mistranslation into English. Nevertheless, the English term ‘canals’ [artificially constructed waterways] was used from the very earliest accounts in English, and as far as is known, Schiaparelli made no effort to correct the supposed misunderstanding if he was aware of it....

It is perhaps not so odd that the idea of Martian canals was so readily accepted by many. At the time, in the late 19th century, telescopic observers had difficulty distinguishing exactly what they were seeing when they looked at Mars.... In addition, the late 19th century was a time of great canal building on Earth. For instance, the Suez Canal was completed in 1869, and the abortive French attempt to build the Panama Canal began in 1880. It is perhaps natural that some thought similar projects were being undertaken on Mars.”
-From the Wikipedia entry on “Martian Canals” as of June 22, 2006

The compulsion to perceive an origin, a once upon a time, is like an unreachable itch. Small wonder, then, that upon the landscape of yesterday’s desert world, we continually “start from scratch,” digging straight lines in the dust with our eyes, in the hope that someday we may draw water from imaginary polar seas, and irrigate the dead and forgotten to renewed life. “The canals are there,” we announce excitedly to the world, “I can see them, yes, yes, they are definitely there!”

No one has the heart to point out the scratches upon our telescopic lens.

Least of all, ourselves...