Bachelor on Mars

by Leigh Wyndfield

  As she left Boyle’s room, she caught a conversation about the bachelor Chad Harper. “Who is he?” she whispered to Tiffany, who stood against the wall beside Jack’s room.

  “Chad Harper?” Tiffany asked, incredulous to the point it came out on a huff of laughter.

  Margo shrugged one shoulder as she nodded, hoping not to draw anyone else’s notice.

  “He was a finalist on The Bachelorette.” Tiffany studied her as if to make sure her leg wasn’t being pulled. “You know, the female version of the show.”

  Margo nodded, since that made sense. Bachelor. Bachelorette. She got it.

  On the sofa, they all agreed that Chad was handsome and very sweet.

  “He fell in true love with Cindy,” one of the blondes said and the group nodded.

  True love, as opposed to what? Fake love?

  Margo realized someone had said her spy name and rewound the conversation in her head.

  “What do you think, Margo?” the woman named Jenny had asked. They were all beautiful, but Jenny was a china doll, blonde and tiny and delicate, with an upturned nose and a soft-spoken southern lilt to her voice.

  “Margo, you didn’t say a thing the whole trip here,” one of the two Black beauties commented. Her nametag, which they were still being forced to wear (thank God), said her name was Moni.

  Margaret searched for something to distract the attention from her total lack of knowledge, so she asked, “You guys don’t think Chad really loved Cindy, do you? I mean this is a TV show.”

  “Of course he loved her,” a redhead named Misty said. “He cried when she didn’t give him the final rose.”

  Margaret tried to keep the disbelief off her face.

  “Oh, I know who she is,” Amanda, a brunette, said, her voice full of wisdom. “She’s the one who doubts the process, and gives all the interviews about how this isn’t real and is totally a waste of time, then ends up falling the hardest. Like Jackie in season twenty.”

  Heads nodded in agreement, staring at Margaret, every gaze having a bit of criticism in it.

  Margaret tried to stay in character. This wasn’t the time to roll her eyes and say, what’s wrong with you people? This is TV. Of course, it’s fake. Instead, she said, “I don’t watch a lot of TV,” knowing she sounded lame, but she’d promised Lynette she wouldn’t be negative.

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a scientist,” Margaret said, wishing now she’d come up with a preplanned response to what her job entailed. Maybe the folder Lynette had given her listed it. She really should check that.

  “Or maybe she’s the brainy one,” someone else said.

  “I’m the brainy one,” Claire informed them, her tone making it clear that she didn’t appreciate the fact they hadn’t noticed yet.

  Margaret watched several women smirk and give each other looks.

  For a second, she was transported back to middle school, where she’d been skewered by the other girls in her class. They hadn’t let up until she accelerated out, skipping seventh and eighth grade to start high school two years early. It had been the biggest relief of her life. She’d never fit in once she’d gotten to high school, of course. She was too young to be friends with her new peers. But she hadn’t been bullied either, her age making her an unsatisfactory target. She’d been much happier with that state of affairs.

  Yet here she was, in middle school, a group of tigers circling her, waiting to pounce.

  No, no, no, this was totally different. Soon, she’d be voted off and would spend another two days testing her rover, without having to talk to any of these women again.

  Her distraction had worked, because the conversation had morphed into creating a list of all the couples who had really fallen in love on the show.

  Margaret—no! her name was Margo, dammit. She’d slipped up there for a bit—wondered where Jack Boyle was and had a pang of sympathy that he would be forced to host them for the next few weeks.

  Lynette marched in to send them off to touch up their makeup (so much makeup!) and climb into new dresses which had appeared hanging on a rack that now took up most of Boyle’s laboratory.

  “Okay, first group date will be Tiffany, Rose, Amanda, Misty, and Margo.”

  “That’s a lot of people for a date,” Margo muttered, wondering if she was going because they needed footage of her actually being a contestant. She’d hoped she wouldn’t be picked for any of the close-up filming.

  “That’s better than usual where all but one of the cast go. Usually group dates are heavily attended. We must be in a tight space or doing an activity that can’t handle a large group.” Tiffany leaned over to peer into a shiny surface of a toaster-sized piece of equipment, creating a makeshift mirror. She carefully rubbed at the edge of her lipstick.

  Margo was relieved Tiffany was filling her in. “But why so many of us?”

  Tiffany raised one perfect eyebrow. “We can’t fight over him if we aren’t together.”

  Margo found the most intelligent thing she had to say was, “Oh.” Well, she wasn’t going to fight over a man. That would be ridiculous behavior. And unsavory.

  They spent an hour filming themselves making dinner in the kitchen, a cramped ten-by-three-foot space that had the feel of a place where Jack Boyle made coffee and heated up premade food. A man after my own heart.

  Lynette magically produced the ingredients for homemade pasta, tomatoes and spices for homemade sauce, and loaves of garlic bread that started as pre-shaped raw dough but smelled amazing in the oven. The wrangler seemed oblivious to how ridiculous it was to have a group of women in fancy dresses cooking dinner in a cramped kitchen on Mars, when there were so many other amazing things they could be doing. Like testing her rover. She could have a whole group date where she taught the women to drive it. She’d prided herself on making sure anyone could get behind the wheel with little to no training.

  Margo might cook, but Margaret didn’t, so she chose the task of chopping tomatoes and onions, since it sounded like something she couldn’t screw up. She preferred to grab food at the University’s cafeteria and eat in the lab while working late into the night.

  She read the recipe as she diced, the directions so simple, even she could follow it. Really, she could do this at home. It wasn’t hard at all and her basic nature enjoyed following the steps and accomplishing the tasks. She decided she would try the cooking thing back on Earth when she got home.

  Someone touched her elbow, making the knife bounce dangerously close to her finger and Chad said, “Careful,” his voice smooth and deep, like a radio host’s. The Bachelor turned out to be tall, in great shape but not overly muscular, with black hair and sad light blue eyes. He immediately began chopping onions beside her, giving her an infectious grin. “So, what do you do, Margo?”

  A strange flash of nerves finally hit her, reminding her of when she’d defended her thesis. She forced a smile, reminding herself that Margo was light and fluffy. And sweet, she added, thinking of Lynette’s comments. There was no reason to be worried about the camera. This would soon be over in a few short hours and she could do all the things she’d come here to do. “I’m a biological and agricultural engineer.” Before he could ask her what the hell that meant, since she really had no idea, she asked, “What do you do?”

  “I’m a professional speed skater.”

  She blinked, having missed that detail before now. “As in ice skating?”

  He grinned, obviously amused that she seemed to be hearing this for the first time. “Yeah.”

  “Like in the Olympics?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That is really cool,” she said, unable to stop the gushing. Because it was. Like being a finalist for a Nobel Prize.

  “It’s been amazing. I’ve had a ton of great coaches and my family is hugely supportive.” He picked another onion.

  Margo started chopping again, her mind whirling on the fact the bachelor seemed so normal and nice. She wasn’t sure what she expected
, but this wasn’t it.

  “Are you close with your family?” Chad asked her.

  For a moment, she wondered if Margo was close to her family, but then figured it would be best to stick to her life story. “I am and I’m not. We’re all super busy and we live in different towns, but I love them very much when it comes down to it. Even when my younger brother plays really mean tricks on me.” She glanced at the camera in the corner. “He thinks he’s funny but he’s not,” she added for good measure. There. Let Hank edit that out.

  Chad paused mid-slice and gave her a sympathetic look. “How many siblings do you have?”

  “Three.” She realized that even if this was a game, Chad was a decent guy who seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her.

  Chad placed a hand on hers and leaned close. “I’ve always wanted siblings, but I’m an only child.”

  She blinked at the contact, not sure she liked it, but she smiled at him as she knew Margo would. “I can’t imagine not having siblings. I’m sure there are pluses to being raised alone.”

  “Chad,” the redhead Misty called across the room. “Can you help me get this bread out of the oven? It’s so hot!”

  Chad turned away and Margo sighed in relief as the camera turned to someone else. “Sure,” he said and dropped his knife. “It was great getting a chance to talk to you, Margo,” he added.

  “That wasn’t terrible,” she murmured as she watched him cross the kitchen, but she was glad to be out of the spot light.

  When he leaned in to get the bread out of the oven, Misty gave Margo a close once over, her gaze saying, “hands off my man, bitch.”

  Margo turned back to her chopping but her peaceful culinary exploration was spoiled. Like she’d be happy with someone like Chad. The thought was ridiculous. As a speed skater, his life was all physical and hers all mental. They were polar opposites.

  Things were easier from there. They only had to put together the simple meal and sit down to eat together. Since Margo was hoping to test her rover sooner than later, she left her filled-to-the-brim wine glass alone and drank copious amounts of water. The air was dry on Mars and hydration was key. Someone must have forgotten to tell the other contestants, because they were all quickly tipsy. But besides another few more warning looks from Misty, Margo was able to tune out the chatter and amuse herself by making a list of every experiment she planned to do while she was here. Things had been moving so fast, she really hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about that.

  She was relieved when the group date was over and she could retreat to the lab, where she was hoping to find the mysterious Jack Boyle.

  Instead, she found the camera guy, Russ, sitting in front of a bank of monitors, using a joystick to zoom in on Misty and Chad, who seemed to be wrapped around each other in the kitchen pantry.

  “Have you seen our host?” she asked Russ, trying to look away from the screen, where Chad was exploring Misty’s tonsils.

  “Nope. Asshole didn’t even meet us when we landed.” He zoomed closer to Misty’s face, which was flushed with excitement.

  “I cried for you when Cindy didn’t give you the final rose, Chad,” Misty said, and her expression of sympathy appeared real.

  “Think all this is genuine?” Margo asked Russ, distracted for a moment by the thought that she was the only person acting. Misty and most of the other girls seemed to have bought into Chad as their potential mate.

  “It is to some of them. Weirdest thing ever, but put people together under the stress we create, and it makes all kinds of things happen.”

  “This is stress?” They were on Mars, having an experience most scientists only dreamed about.

  “If it isn’t yet, it will be soon. Little sleep, competitions, the starvation they all seem to put themselves through, the threat of being sent home—this place will be a pressure cooker by the end.”

  He flipped to another screen and turned up the volume. The girls were sitting around on their camp beds inside the rocket.

  “I’m just saying something’s up with Margo. I saw her talking to Chad on our group date and it was like she was a different person,” one said, her back to the screen so Margo wasn’t sure who it was, but it sounded like it might be Rose.

  “I’ve already called it. She’s got the story line where they take her from doubter to convert,” Amanda said. Or she thought it was Amanda. They weren’t wearing their nametags anymore, so it was hard to be certain.

  “They’re on to you,” Russ said.

  Margo sighed. “Well, they aren’t complete idiots.” In fact, she was growing to like them. Or some of them. Tiffany had been nothing but kind to her. She’d still be trying to get those fake eyelashes on if Tiffany hadn’t come to help.

  “They aren’t idiots at all.” Russ toggled back to Chad and Misty. “We make sure we don’t pick anyone with low IQs because the audience hates that. Everyone is at least above average. They’re just desperate for love.”

  For a moment, she was distracted by Russ’ lack of cynicism, but then she thanked the stars that she would never be so desperate. “Don’t you think it’s weird Jack Boyle isn’t here?”

  “Hank told us he’s a first-class a-hole, so no. He probably can’t fit us in with his busy schedule picking up rocks from the ground.”

  She opened her mouth to correct him, but then closed it, trying to honor her promise to Lynette to stay in character. I am Margo. Margo would not correct Russ. Margo is sweet. Who knew it would be this hard to be sweet?

  “You better get back in there or Lynette will be on the warpath.”

  “Good advice,” she said, and left quickly, not wanting to piss Lynette off when she held the keys to testing the rover.

  Just in time, because it turned out that Lynette was right around the corner. “Margo!” she snapped, clearly starting to fray after a continuous filming cycle. The contestants had almost no sleep for the last twenty-four hours and neither had their handler. “We have a rose ceremony and you’re not in the lineup.”

  Margo took a deep breath. Sweet. “Heading there now,” she trilled in a perky voice, hustling into the tiny living room where they would all stand in a prearranged order. Sliding into her place between Misty and Amanda (earlier, Lynette had spent a long time distributing all the blondes through the group), Margo plastered a smile on her face, not wanting to get into more trouble.

  Usually, the bachelor had someone like Hank there to be the master of ceremonies, but Lynette explained that they would digitally master him in when they returned to Earth. Hank wouldn’t come until the second rocket in three days, which would bring the rest of their stuff and take home whoever had lost up to that point.

  Instead of Hank, they had Russ reading his parts. “So, um, how are you feeling about this process?” Russ asked Chad, his voice monotone and awkward.

  “Russ,” Lynette growled.

  Russ looked up. “What?” he asked, puzzled.

  Based on the sound of teeth grinding, Lynette struggled to maintain her cool. Not a good sign for the first day. “Just go on.” She made a winding motion with her hand.

  “How are you feeling about this process?” Russ asked again, a little faster this time but no less monotone.

  Chad launched into an obviously pre-rehearsed speech that Margo immediately tuned out after he said he couldn’t wait to find love.

  Where was Jack Boyle? He was a recluse, but she would never let people in her laboratory unsupervised and she couldn’t imagine he would either. Keeping the smile plastered on her face, she let her mind drift over everything she knew about the eccentric, brilliant geologist.

  He was a legend, despite how young he still was. They had that in common, actually, both at the top of their professions, although he was certainly a bigger star to the non-scientific population than she was. He’d probably be better looking if he wasn’t always scowling in every picture she’d ever seen. But his mind… his mind was so hot. She shivered.

  Behind her, Jenny squealed and sma
shed into Margo’s shoulder as she toppled off the highest riser on her way down. Chad had started giving out roses and Jenny was the first picked.

  Why were these women here? They were all beautiful and, if Russ was right, they were above average intelligence. So, why do this? She watched Claire get her rose, so happy, the woman who claimed she was the brainy one cried.

  Margo couldn’t wait to be kicked off. The first thing she’d do would be change out of this gold atrocity they’d stuffed her into. She looked down for a moment at the strappy gold sandals peeking out below the matching dress. Her feet hurt so much and she knew she was one misstep away from falling on her ass. But, if she was honest, and she almost always was, she looked amazing. In fact, she was as beautiful as anyone else in the room. She just didn’t care. For the most part. Okay, she supposed she cared a little bit. There was a hidden, girly part of her that might be pleased. She wondered briefly if Jack Boyle would find her beautiful. But even if he only found her rover beautiful, she’d be ecstatic.

  Speaking of her rover…they’d parked it in one of the out buildings. That’s where it had to be, because there was no place here for it inside this building. The thought of it had her straightening her back and plastering her smile back on. Lynette, standing behind one of the many cameras around the room, gave her a squinty-eyed glare and pointed her finger at Margo.

  Margo relaxed her face as they’d practiced and clapped for Amanda as she went to get her rose.

  Amanda and Chad kissed cheeks, as Amanda gushed out a yes to his question of would she accept the rose.

  If Margo ever got a rose, which she wouldn’t, she’d stride up there and say hell no and maybe stomp on the rose for good measure. She almost laughed out loud at the thought of her grinding a spiked heel into the delicate petals.