“Should I open it?” he asked.
Ming roused herself from the single rack they’d taken turns sharing. “Hang on,” she said. Her every move felt sluggish in the presence of a continuous one-gee burn toward Mars and her knees popped when she stood. She moved Ruben behind her, then opened the hatch.
“Johns wants you on the bridge,” said a skinny woman. She stood aside, waiting for them.
Ming slung her backpack over her shoulder. The weight of the handgun inside was reassuring. On the bridge, she found Johns waiting for her with a withering scowl.
“We have company,” he said, motioning out the window.
It took Ming a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about, then she saw it. Another ship, matte-black and unmarked, with paramilitary lines.
“They’re armed,” Johns continued, “and they made sure we saw them fire their rail guns in target practice.”
Ming swallowed. “What do they want?” She dropped the backpack casually to the floor, leaving the top halfway open.
Johns touched a button, passing the incoming comms to the loudspeaker. “Lucky Baldwin , this is Revenant . We are seeking two illegal passengers, a young woman and a boy. Stand by to be boarded.”
Ming tried to get to the handgun, but it was too late. Two muscular arms encircled her from behind, pinning her arms to her body. The pistol dropped to the deck. She reacted quickly, Ito’s butt-gut-nuts mantra singing in her head. But her attacker dodged the head-butt, making the follow-on strikes impossible.
Ruben cried out, caught in the grip of another crew member .
“Let him go!” Ming shouted. She stomped on her captor’s foot. His grip loosened, and she squirmed free.
“That’s enough,” Johns said quietly. She looked up to find her own handgun pointed at her. “Comms, signal the Revenant . We’ll turn over the cargo.”
“We had a deal,” Ming hissed. She sized up the odds against her: a handgun and three crew. Not good. “I can pay, Johns. Hide us and I’ll pay you more.”
“You’re already going to pay.” Johns tossed the backpack to the thin woman who’d brought Ming to the bridge. “Call it a surcharge.”
“Give me that!” Ming said, lunging at her.
Johns cracked the pistol barrel across her cheek. Her vision exploded in a riot of color, then faded to black. The last thing she heard was Ruben’s frightened voice screaming her name.
• • •
The smell of coffee woke her. Real coffee.
Ming attempted to open her eyes, but only one eyelid responded. The right side of her face felt fat, swollen. She groaned.
“Ming? Can you hear me?” Ruben’s voice.
Her monovision took in the scene. Half reclined, all she could see was a well-lit cabin outfitted with two double beds. So much space. Definitely not the Baldwin .
“Where are we?” Her question scratched like dry wood in her throat. Ruben worked the controls on the chair to help her sit up, then handed her a glass of water. She gulped it down without tasting a drop .
“You have a concussion. He said you need to rest.”
“He who?”
Ruben tapped on the wallscreen. After a few pings of the ringer, the face of Anthony Taulke appeared larger than life. His expression brightened at seeing her and he smiled widely, the world-famous billion-Byte smile.
“Ming,” he said. “I’m so glad I found you.”
Chapter 12
Anthony Taulke • Taulke Atmospheric Experiment Station, Mars
Even as his lips automatically formed a smile of greeting, Anthony tried not to stare at the screen. In his mind’s eyes, Ming Qinlao was a beautiful, vibrant young woman, not this beaten wreck. Her dark hair, once styled and flowing like black silk, was a ragged, matted mess. Her skin was mottled with bruises like a piece of overripe fruit and sallow in the places in between. The right side of her face was swollen beyond recognition.
Her eyes—eye, rather—seemed to have trouble focusing on him. “Anthony?” That was definitely Ming’s voice. “Where are we?” she asked.
“You’re safe. You’re on a Taulke vessel on your way to Mars.”
She moved toward the camera. “I was already on my way to Mars. Johns, the captain of the Baldwin —he thought you were pirates. Bounty hunters.”
“That’s what we wanted him to think. It’s safer that way. If your aunt manages to track him down, she’ll find another dead end. ”
Ming gave a slight nod. The boy moved in beside her, trying to pull a blanket over her.
“I see you’re in good hands, Ming.”
The boy smiled into the camera. “Yes, Mr. Taulke.”
“Anthony, please. Remember?”
“Okay, Anthony.”
Ming stirred again. “How did you find us?”
“You would’ve been hard to miss. YourVoice has been blowing up for days about the deaths of Lily Wallace and some lowlife named Branch Moeller. They don’t have a lot of murders on the Moon.” He paused, realizing the flippant way he’d just spoken about Ming’s former lover. “I was sorry to hear about your friend.”
Anthony continued, “It’s Viktor you should really thank. He hacked into LUNa City’s shipping records. We made a calculated guess that you wouldn’t return to Earth and we began stopping any ship headed from the Moon to some other destination. We kept the Taulke name out of it, of course.”
“Thank you, Anthony.” Ming’s good eye teared up and she gripped Ruben’s hand. “From both of us.”
Anthony flushed, but inside him something heavy and slick slithered around. He had the sudden impulse to tell her the truth about the deal with Xi.
“It’s nothing, Ming,” he said, anxious to end the conversation. “We were partners. That still means something in my book. Get some rest. I’ve told Captain Lander to use an easy burn back home. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Anthony swiped the connection closed, hating the prickles of guilt crawling under his skin. She had hidden herself and a boy for months on the run, living by her wits, supporting herself. Could he have done that at her age? Could his own son, Tony, do that even now?
And he was going to betray her.
His virtual alerted him to Viktor’s arrival, a welcome distraction to that line of thought.
Anthony spun in his chair. Time to get on with his next agenda item of the day: saving the world.
Viktor entered at his normal shambling pace, more bear than man in his movements. He liked to affect an air of detached intellectualism, but today his gaze sought Anthony’s as soon as he walked through the door. “You found Ming? She’s safe?” he said.
Anthony was touched. Ming had even earned a place in the heart of a Russian oligarch. The young woman was truly special. “Yes, thanks to your trolling bots. She and her brother will be on Mars in another day or so.”
“Good, good. She’ll be able to convert the manufacturing facilities here to make the new nanites?”
“With Tony’s help, yes,” Anthony said with more confidence than he felt. Tony’s expansion plan for Taulke Industries on Mars had every available second of manufacturing capacity booked for the next year and beyond, but that would just have to change. This was still his company and the Earth project was vitally important.
“The test bed is ready?” Anthony asked. “I’m anxious to move to the next phase.”
Viktor’s flyaway gray hair bounced in agreement. “Very good numbers on the sims. Dispersing with satellites this time makes achieving global coverage much easier. I think we are nearly there, my friend. Come, come—I show you!”
As they walked to the testing center, Anthony took notice again of how much Tony had developed the facility. It was a far cry from the simple testing station Anthony had entertained potential investors in last year. If Tony had his way, Anthony was convinced, he’d brand the whole planet, maybe even rename it Taulke. He found himself not hating that thought outright.
“Talk to Tony yet?” Viktor asked.
“I can handle Tony.”
He bumped into Viktor, who had stopped in the doorway to his lab. Anthony looked over his friend’s head into the room with annoyance, then surprise.
What should have been a scene bustling with engineers and scientists involved in the last frantic minutes before a major experiment was instead a lab almost devoid of personnel. In the center of the room, one man spun around on a stool and stood to greet them.
Tony Taulke moved with the languid, easy grace of unshakable self-confidence. He smiled in a way that bared teeth but lacked warmth.
“Hi, Pop,” Tony said. “We need to talk.”
“Tony,” Anthony said. “What the hell have you done to my testing center?”
Tony glared at his father. “You used one of my ships to board an innocent mining vessel in transit. What were you thinking? You could have caused an international incident.”
“Your ships?” Anthony snapped. “Those are Taulke ships, Son. Company ships. We kept their identity hidden. It was worth the risk, in my opinion.”
“Your opinion doesn’t matter here, Pop. You need resources, you ask permission. From me.” Tony’s lean frame had gone rigid as he faced his father.
Anthony’s frustration of the last few weeks began to boil. He felt the heat of embarrassment and rage creeping up his neck. “Fine. Since you brought it up, Viktor and I need—”
“No.” Tony bit off the word with a snap of his teeth.
“But you haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”
“Priorities have changed, Pop.” Tony swept his fingers in a dismissive motion toward the lab around them. “This little sideshow you’re running here. Trying to save the world again. It’s over. That place we came from is finished. Mars is the new center of the universe for mankind. We’re building a new world from scratch and we only let in those we want to let in.”
“This is still my company, boy!” His fury took the wheel from his intellect. Anthony knew he needed to calm down.
Tony’s face went still. “You know what the board calls me behind my back, Pop?”
Anthony knew, but feigned outrage. “What the hell does that—”
“Junior,” Tony said. He might have just announced he was about to vomit. “Some even call me Tony Two-Point-Oh, like I’m the second coming of you .”
“What the board calls you—”
“I saved this company!” Tony advanced on his father. Despite his own rage, Anthony stepped backward. “While you were sitting on your ass in prison, I brought the stock back from a wave of panicked sell-offs. I restructured our debt. I convinced shareholders that colonizing Mars was the way of the future. I did that, Pop. Me, by myself. If not for me, there wouldn’t be a Taulke Industries today.”
Anthony’s anger short-circuited, and he sat down in one of the empty chairs. What Tony was saying held the virtue of being true. His son had saved the company, had even grown it. Tony’s wasn’t his vision for Mars, but it was a vision many others had bought into—literally. And that had saved Taulke Industries.
“I don’t want to be Tony Two-Point-Oh, Pop.” He straddled one of the chairs opposite his father, his voice softer now. “I’m my own man. I’m going to build a new world from scratch.” He touched Anthony’s hand.
Anthony stared at his son’s hand overlaying his own. Tony had his own ambition, his own desire for greatness. His own future to shape from the clay of opportunity. Maybe Tony was more like his old man than Anthony had given him credit for.
“I admire your motivation, Son, but I’m still chairman and I get a say in this grand vision of yours.”
Tony sat back. “We’re beyond the boardroom now, Pop. This is a new age, and it calls for a new kind of governance. I say we do away with the board and we form a new one. We’ll call it a council, a roundtable of business leaders to shape this new opportunity for our benefit. We choose our peers. There’s you and Viktor, and Adriana. Maybe even Ming if she gets her company back. We write our own destiny.”
Anthony sat back in his chair. He’d had the same thought, and now Tony was endorsing the idea. “I like where your head’s at, Son.”
Tony’s easy smile returned. “I thought you might.”
“Now, I do think that this council owes it to Earth to— ”
“The answer’s still no, Pop,” Tony interrupted. “If you want to run this little science experiment on your own time, that’s fine, but you’re going to have to fund it and equip it on your own. Mars resources are focused on building the Mars of the future.”
Tony leaned forward and patted his father’s knee. “Pop, you know I love you, but you have to get your head out of the clouds. When you came to Mars, you wanted to terraform the planet. You nearly bankrupted the company on a pipe dream. For a fraction of the cost, I am building a set of domes that will house a million people. A million . We don’t need to save the world, Pop, we only need to save the ones worth saving.”
“And who makes that determination?” Anthony said in a cold voice. “Who determines the ones worth saving?”
“That’s why we have a council. To make sure everyone’s interests are protected.”
“I see,” Anthony said. It all made sense in theory, but real leadership required more than cold logic. What about humanity?
“So Viktor and I can keep working as long as we minimize the use of company resources?” he said.
Tony stood, his signal that the meeting was over. “The staff you have now is the staff you have. Period, end of story. Don’t ask for more—and no manufacturing capacity.”
“On Mars.”
Tony stretched his lips without humor. “On Mars. You find some off-planet partners, Pop, knock yourself out.”
• • •
The latest recreational hobby for the younger set on the Taulke station was biking on the Martian surface .
“Single or tandem, sir?” said the kid at the airlock.
There had been a time in the history of Taulke Industries when Anthony had known every employee and vice versa. Despite Anthony’s custom pressure suit, the kid obviously didn’t know who he was talking to. Anthony decided he liked it that way. He needed to get away from people for a few hours. Clear his head. A change of scenery and some exercise seemed like just the right combination.
“Single,” he said through the external speakers on his suit.
“Stall seven.”
The airlock cycled and he stepped into the bright, brassy barrenness that was Mars. He stooped to pick up a handful of loose soil, letting the rust-colored sand run through his fingers. So much potential oxygen for the taking. If only he could break those chemical bonds, he could turn this place into an oasis of green and gold.
He rubbed his hands together, then strode to the stall marked seven.
The “fat bike,” as they called them, looked like a cartoon tricycle. Three enormous balloon-like tires, each as tall as a man, with a gimballed saddle-and-pedal arrangement perched on top. The rider had the option to pedal or ride along using the electric motor buried somewhere in the center of the contraption. The heavy engine had the additional purpose of keeping a low center of gravity for the entire machine, which allowed it to ride over rocks and up and down steep mountains.
He snorted at the absurdity of the moment. His son allowed his people to make tricycles but refused his own father permission to manufacture a device that might save an entire planet .
This was just another speed bump on the way to greatness, he told himself as he mounted the bike. He pulled out of the space and headed across the open plain toward the half-finished dome. The bike synced with his retinal implant and recommended a track to follow around the dome for optimum viewing. He eye-scanned his acceptance.
Anthony pumped his legs, letting the sound of his breath fill his awareness. The dome was farther away than it looked; it kept growing as he pedaled until it towered over him, the sides nearly vertical.
It was truly a masterpiece, an endeavor worthy of the Taulke brand. The
terraforming dream had more sex appeal, but this was solid—and it was here now. Maybe Tony was right after all.
Tony had struck a chord with Anthony in articulating the idea of the council—he was already capitalizing the entity in his own mind. Maybe it was time for Anthony to regroup, follow his son’s lead for a while.
After another dozen pumps of the pedals, he discarded that idea. He could have his cake and eat it too. Divide and conquer. While Tony established the Taulke brand on Mars, he, the father, would conquer the Old World. If he could save Earth from the scourge of this climate menace, he would bring even more prestige and power to the council.
Father and son, the Taulke powerhouse, creating the first system-wide form of governance that was both profitable and humane. Together, they could be first among equals on the council.
But he needed resources separate and apart from his son’s bailiwick. That meant Earth resources. That meant Qinlao resources .
If Ming were back at the helm of Qinlao Manufacturing, this would be easy. But she wasn’t, and the political capital he would have to expend to get back in power was not within his grasp—not yet at least.
Anthony pedaled another two kilometers before he gave up, letting the electric motor take over. He engaged the autopilot back to the station and relaxed, alternating his gaze between the glassy sheen of the new dome and the outline of the ochre mountains against the black sky.
By the time the bicycle had reached its destination, Anthony had come up with a plan.
• • •
Xi Qinlao’s image on his screen brought to mind the cat who had devoured the canary. Her elegant fingers tucked a strand of stray dark hair into her elaborate hairstyle.
“Anthony.” A thin smile, no teeth. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Xi.”
She waited for him to speak, her glittering green eyes trying to find an edge in his demeanor. Anthony stayed silent.
“I assume you’re calling to give me good news, then,” she said finally.
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