by Caryn Lix
“We’ll be long gone by then,” Cage said. I spun to glare at him, and he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying Mia was right. Hell, I’ll be honest: I don’t know what’s right anymore. Not sure I ever did. But what’s done is done, and we need to get out of here and destroy that ship. Fast.”
The sense of his words registered. How far away were the aliens? How fast could they travel? Would they set off in immediate pursuit of the ship once they received the signal? Would they even receive it? There were too many questions and not enough answers, and no one, apparently not even my father, was going to listen. Whatever we did, we had to do ourselves.
That realization went a long way toward steadying me. I took in the faces around me: Alexei introspective, gazing at the floor. Reed uncomfortable and obviously in some pain. Imani nervous and frightened, but resolute. Rune and Jasper thoughtful. Cage calculating. And Mia, of course, the picture of determination. I envied her single-minded sense of her own rightness. Mia never seemed to question anything. I might not agree with every action she took, but she did act. On some level, I respected that. “Cage is right,” I heard myself say.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Cage is right?”
I grinned. “Okay, sorry. You’re all right. Our primary focus right now is destroying the ship before Omnistellar shows up.” Or the aliens do. But saying that wasn’t going to help anyone. They were all thinking it already, and I didn’t need mind-reading abilities to know it. “Jasper, you’re most familiar with Mars. Any suggestions on where we can go?”
He sank his teeth into his bottom lip and stared into the corner, nodding absently. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I have an idea.”
“Okay. Then for now, let’s get somewhere safe. We can discuss a plan later.”
Without another word, Jasper edged open the door, peered outside, and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s clear. Let’s move.”
“I’ll help you,” Alexei offered, giving Reed his arm. Reed took it gratefully, his face a mask of pain. “Power or no, we should see to that. Mia mine, can you check for a first aid kit?”
Mia scrambled onto a stack of crates. Before my astonished eyes, she vaulted onto the balcony of the warehouse, her hand barely grazing the rail as she flipped over it. A moment later she reappeared carrying a small red case. “Found one,” she said.
Alexei nodded. “Bring it with you, please. We’ll help Reed when we reach safety.” He glanced at the smaller boy. “Are you all right until then?”
“I’ve made it this far,” said Reed with false bravado. Sympathy pains shot up my leg. I’d sprained my own ankle at a training camp when I was thirteen, and I didn’t have fond memories of the experience. “Hopefully Jasper doesn’t plan to have us walk too far.”
Imani came to Reed’s other side, offering him a rueful smile. “You only heal others, and I only heal myself. Between us, you’re the only one we can’t help.”
“Life has a stupid sense of humor,” Reed agreed succinctly. “You can let go now, Lex. I’ll lean on the pretty girl instead.”
Imani glanced away to hide her flush, and Alexei snickered quietly, heaving Reed more heavily against him as he started into the streets.
As we trailed Jasper, Cage drew up beside me, jamming his hands in his pockets and whistling tunelessly under his breath. The sun was setting, sending Mars into shadowy relief, strange half-light and shadows everywhere. In spite of myself, I paused a moment, spellbound. This was my first time on another planet. I’d been in plenty of ships, plenty of prisons, and just about every continent on Earth. But here I was standing on Mars.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cage doing the same thing. He glanced at me and grinned. “Sorry,” he said.
“Don’t apologize. It’s . . . beautiful.” And it was. Even taking into account the shantytown and the metal and the dust and the dirt. Mars was raw in a way Earth wasn’t. Sure, Mars City was pretty much the epitome of pillaging the land and debauchery, but the city only covered a very small area. The bulk of Mars remained unmined. Untouched. And even though right now I only saw the same teeming mass of humanity you’d find on Earth, I sensed Mars pressing in on all sides.
It was hard to get a reliable estimate of Mars’s population. The criminal underworld kept sneaking people in, and Tourism Rouge tended to shuffle their people among their many destinations at will. Still, even with tourists and illegal inhabitants, there couldn’t be more than a couple hundred thousand people on Mars, fewer than anywhere I’d ever lived—except, of course, Sanctuary.
“Mars City reminds me of Taipei, without all the water,” Cage said softly, hands still in his pockets. “The very rich”—he nodded toward the gleaming lights of the tourist center ahead of us—“the very poor”—he indicated the shantytown surrounding us—“and the unseen.”
Cage and Rune had been part of the unseen, the criminal element working below the surface. Exactly how strong was the criminal presence on Mars? According to the corporations, it was nonexistent, but we all knew that wasn’t true. Even diehard company loyalists acknowledged that there was some crime on Mars, largely accepted by the miners because it benefited them—the criminals made sure it did—and ignored by the tourists because it never became dangerous enough to interfere with a wild vacation. Did Cage know more about it than I did?
I almost asked, but the look on his face—dreamy, calm, and almost boyishly enthusiastic—trapped the words in my throat. This was a side of Cage I didn’t often see. And why would I, when we were constantly on the run from aliens or arguing about whether to tell the others that I’d murdered their friend?
That thought intruded on the peaceful moment, guilt bringing a lump to my throat and making me notice the others drifting ahead. “Hey,” I said softly. “We should get moving.”
Cage nodded and gave me a smile, some of his confidence settling into place even as the wide-eyed boy lingered behind it. And that moment left a warm feeling in my heart, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay after all.
Legion 1. Do you copy?
Copy, base. We are en route for intercept as planned.
Hold that, Legion 1. It may not be necessary.
With all due respect, we have a mission, and we plan to fulfill it. Or at the very least, we plan to be paid for fulfilling it.
You’ll receive your due. But if they see you coming, it could spoil everything.
*Laughter* No worries, base. They won’t see this coming.
NINE
JASPER LED US IN A shuffling, shambling procession through the winding streets of Mars City. As night fell, people emerged: streaming from public transit, mingling in the alleys, opening doors and windows. The temperature, which had hovered in the midseventies, dropped about ten degrees in a matter of minutes. I knew the domes managed some temperature control; otherwise, Mars would be freezing. But obviously they left nature a certain amount of authority.
We stuck to the shadows, avoiding contact with anyone. The people of Mars were unpredictable. You had your ambitious and your loyalists, but mining was still a tough life, and very few chose it voluntarily. You had families with mouths to feed, people with no other options who couldn’t get a job with a better corporation on Earth. Sometimes that meant they had no real loyalty to Mars Mining, which played somewhat fast and loose with its workers’ safety and paid them a bare minimum: enough to keep them alive, but never enough to get off planet and seek employment somewhere better.
On the other hand, you had people who took the opposite approach, becoming fiercely loyal to the only corporation willing to hire them. Mars was tough, but things could be worse. You could travel months in stasis to Jupiter’s moons, where the life expectancy was ten years due to hard working conditions and frequent breakages in water filtration. Or, worst of all, you could be a government citizen, scrambling for odd jobs and relying on charity for your next meal. We couldn’t predict who we’d run into. Those who resented Mars Mining might help us. Those who worshiped them, though, well . . .
I’d already seen what that looked like with my parents.
Lost in my train of thought, I followed Jasper around a corner. Suddenly, everything changed. Where once had been lean-tos and corrugated metal were now flashing lights and tall buildings of chrome and glass. I froze, not sure if we’d wandered into a different world. Well-dressed tourists lined the streets, talking, laughing, and drinking. This was the Mars I knew from vids: a world of high-class debauchery where Earth’s rich and bored traveled to unwind away from corporate laws. We’d left Mars Mining Incorporated behind and ventured into the territory of Tourism Rouge. That didn’t help us much, of course. Mars Mining policed the entire planet, since technically Tourism Rouge only operated with their permission. But hopefully they’d be reluctant to charge after us, guns blazing, in a crowded tourist district and incur the wrath of the only other corporation on the planet.
The others stopped too, gaping in openmouthed disbelief. A few steps ahead, Jasper realized we weren’t following. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
Mia shook her head. “We don’t exactly blend.”
She had a point. Everyone here carried that corporate air. They weren’t all dressed in finery, but even those in jeans had a well-tailored look, manicured nails, neatly styled hair. We all wore prison jumpsuits in various stages of disrepair—or in my case, an Omnistellar guard uniform. We hadn’t showered in almost a month. We were filthy and incredibly conspicuous.
“All the more reason to get off the streets before we’re noticed,” Jasper explained patiently. “Come on. This way.”
“Are these casinos?” I asked as we proceeded along a side street. Here, too, an air of holiday cheer suffused the space. People dined at outdoor tables or sipped drinks while they talked and laughed. Conversation faded in our wake, shocked murmurs trailing us. We had a few minutes at best before someone called security, and security on Mars meant Mars Mining. With a tourist invitation, they’d charge in here without provoking so much as a whisper from Tourism Rouge.
Jasper shook his head, gesturing vaguely behind us. “Casinos are that way. Mars law. Everything has its own district. The theaters are over there, the casinos behind us, the more, um, sketchy entertainment on our right. We’re heading to the hotels.” He glanced both ways and ducked behind a very fake row of bushes, gesturing for us to follow.
Cage peeled some of the plasticky branches back for me and Rune, who gave him a reluctant smile. “Thanks,” she said softly. It was probably the first civil word she’d spoken to him since we’d left Sanctuary.
His expression betrayed his surprise, but a wide, genuine grin spread across his face. Catching my eye, he quirked an eyebrow, and I smiled involuntarily in response. It was hard not to smile at Cage when he beamed like that. He was the flip side of everything I’d grown up valuing. Was I attracted to him or to that? Did it even matter? I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing at the texture. Hey, if he could look at this without frowning . . .
The others followed us through. As soon as we left the streets, Mia vanished. I supposed I had to admire her restraint in not doing so in full view of the crowds of tourists. I’d sensed her twitchiness as we advanced, her desperation to escape the horde of watchful eyes.
We paused a moment to collect our breath in relative privacy. We were in a slightly tacky but still impressive park: fake grass surrounding a massive fountain where fish spit water to one another before it trickled down to a pond, complete with rubber lily pads. “Do I hear frogs?” I asked dubiously.
Jasper grinned and pointed. Following his finger, I saw a cleverly camouflaged speaker tucked into the leaves of a fake palm tree. Rows of plastic hedges surrounded us. At either edge of the garden, gates flanked a stone path. Even here, Mars’s telltale red dust settled over a good portion of the area, but robotic cleaners zipped around our feet, vacuuming it up quickly and silently. I could almost have been back on Earth.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, though, my gaze traveled up to where Phobos sat in the sky, a misshapen lump nothing like Earth’s moon. Deimos drifted nearby, smaller and dimmer but unmistakably a second moon. Once again, my stomach clenched at the sight. I was on Mars. It didn’t take away from the horror of what I’d been through, but it was a moment I could take in and enjoy just for what it was.
Something rattled in the bushes, and I jerked to attention, my heart slamming into my throat. Automatically I grabbed for a nonexistent stun gun, my knees dropping into a near crouch as I waited for something to charge through the greenery. I froze in place, terror ricocheting through my frozen heart, not moving a muscle.
A small robotic cleaner, painted green to blend with the grass, buzzed along instead. I closed my eyes, hoping no one had noticed my momentary panic. Not an alien. Not a monster. Get it together, Kenzie.
If anyone had noticed my flashback, they didn’t say anything. The park absorbed their complete attention. “Where are we?” asked Reed wonderingly.
“The courtyard of the glamorous Spring Veil Resort,” Jasper replied. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll follow me?”
“Hang on a minute,” Imani said, raising her hand. “I need a minute to catch up. Why are we here exactly?”
“Oh, fine, ruin the surprise. This is my family’s hotel.”
“What?” Imani and I demanded in unison.
Even Alexei raised an eyebrow. “You told me your family ran a hotel on Mars,” he said. “I didn’t realize you meant Spring Veil.”
“You’ve heard of it?” Rune asked.
“Everyone’s heard of it,” Alexei replied. Imani and I nodded in agreement, but no one else seemed to know the name. Alexei and I exchanged glances, neither of us finishing that sentence: everyone who grew up relatively wealthy had heard of it. I scrutinized Imani out of the corner of my eye, wondering what her background was, but she was too busy examining the fountain to notice my inspection.
“Spring Veil is one of Mars’s more exclusive resorts,” I said, filling the uncomfortable silence. “A lot of Omnistellar’s upper brass like to vacation here, which makes it a terrible place for us to hide.”
“Or it would,” countered Jasper smoothly, “if we couldn’t trust my family to cover for us. Look, we can spend the night in an alley in shantytown hoping no one stumbles over us and turns us in, or we can do our scheming in a luxury hotel suite. It’s your call.”
Well, when he put it that way . . . “You’re sure your family won’t freak out?” I asked, imagining my parents’ reaction if I’d arrived on their doorstep with a bunch of escaped convicts in tow.
Of course, my dad had already managed to make his opinion of my antics clear, and my mom, well . . . she’d never get mad about anything ever again. I closed my eyes as grief threatened to break over me once more. I couldn’t even mourn my mother properly. She’d turned on me, lied to me, tried to kill me. I couldn’t bring her back to life, but I wanted to just miss her without the turmoil of anger and betrayal. Even that small comfort was denied me.
A tremor racked my limbs. I drew on all my training, forcing myself under control. Do not break. Words floated through the mist of grief, and I grabbed at them, latching on to Jasper’s voice and using it to steady myself.
“I’m not saying they’ll be happy, but they won’t turn us in or anything.” He shrugged expansively. “Look, you guys do what you want. Me, I’ve been on Sanctuary for over a year. I’m going home.”
By mutual and unspoken consent, we fell into step behind him. “Jasper?” said Imani hesitantly. “How did you wind up on Sanctuary?”
A shocked hiss emerged from the emptiness beside me. Mia, presumably, but I still jumped a mile, immediately scanning for aliens. “Stop. Doing. That,” I growled.
Jasper must have heard her too, but he waved his hand. “You mean, am I on Mars’s most wanted list? No. It was an accident. When my power manifested, I accidentally blew out my family’s kitchen. No one got hurt, and insurance covered the damage. Unfortunately, it was a pretty public display. Tourism reported me
to Mars Mining, and a week later Omnistellar showed up to take me away.” He swallowed. “My parents tried to resist, but Tourism Rouge made it clear: if they fought, I’d still go to prison, and they’d lose their license to operate on Mars. This hotel is all we have.”
“So, your parents let you go,” said Reed softly, sympathy in his voice. I wondered if they all had a story like that—all except Rune and Cage, who’d gone silent, perhaps remembering their own father. He had used them as virtual slaves until their escape.
But Jasper shook his head. “No, they still would have fought for me. I slipped out in the middle of the night and turned myself in. My family built Spring Veil from nothing. I wasn’t going to be the one to take it away . . . more than I already had, I mean.” He swallowed, slowed for a moment, and then resumed his determined trek. “Trust me when I say they’ll take us in.”
“Do you think they’ll let us shower?” asked Reed hopefully. “Do you think they’ll feed us?”
“There’s always spare food around. And I think they’ll insist on the showers.” Jasper held up a hand in caution as we approached the far gate, then beckoned us forward. We followed him into a shadowed recess. In front of us loomed Spring Veil, a ten-story spectacle of neon lights, rounded chrome edges, and mirrored glass. Somehow it all came together to look impressive, more than the sum of its parts.
We followed Jasper through the passageway, not meeting a single guard or tourist, until we came to a closed metal door, one not nearly as fancy as the rest of the hotel. Jasper visibly steadied himself before knocking.
I glanced at him dubiously. “Maybe no one’s home.”
“They’re in there.” He knocked again, louder this time.
