Out of the Stars (Into the Stars Book 2)

by Gwendolyn Field

  The closer we get, the more I can make out the modern structures laid out inside the bubble. Everything looks orderly, like a grid: evenly spaced streets and walkways, structures all of the same models and building materials. No single-family homes, though, and no yards. The only thing Reesa had been able to compare the housing to were apartments and condos. Nothing over ten stories high because of the planet’s enclosure. And no cars as we know them. Mars humana use solar powered hovercrafts and scooters. Since the urban towns are so small, people usually walk everywhere. The only places on Earth that use hovercrafts are a handful of the biggest and richest cities: New York, Dubai, Tokyo, London. We’re always behind Mars.

  “I can’t believe I’m here,” I whisper against the glass. Reesa giggles with excitement as Russ joins us, slipping an arm around her waist as he stares out with us.

  We finally lower close enough to get sucked into a giant tube that opens at one end, lets in our vessel, then closes and makes a loud hissing noise that causes me to flinch.

  “Regulating the air pressure and atmosphere in the tunnel before opening the other end to allow entry,” Russell explains.

  From there it’s all a blur. When we step out into Skyline Airport, there are two men waiting who I recognize, looking very handsome—one with dark skin, chatting up an obvious Mars woman in what can only be described as a catwoman suit. All black, tight leather with black as midnight hair that’s slicked back and bright red lips. She’s older but super sexy. In fact, the sexual tension between the two of them is wowza. He’s leaning over her as they speak, their eyes never looking away, her hand placed flirtatiously on his forearm.

  The other guy, Tripoli of Italian descent, glances up from his Mars device and grins. “There they are. What’s up, Cap? How you doin’, Reesa? And Miss Lanna Lexon herself.” He gives each of us a hug in turn, ending with a hand-clasp-back-smack from my brother. The other soldier, Tiko, turns to us now and goes straight to my brother with a grin. “Been too long, Cap.”

  “Tiko.” Russ and his old friend and colleague shake hands then pull each other into a back slap. I peer around wondering stupidly if Hans might be here too, but it’s just Tiko and Trip. I’m standing close enough that I hear my brother hoarsely whisper to Tiko, “Tell me you haven’t fucked her mother.”

  “Not yet,” Tiko says with utter seriousness, making Russ groan.

  Her mother? My eyes bug out as Reesa runs to the catwoman and they join hands, kissing on the cheeks. That’s her mom? I try to imagine Mama in a catsuit and I nearly burst out laughing. I’m still staring at their somewhat stiff exchange as a strong hand lands on my shoulder.

  “Well, if it isn’t our little sister,” Tiko says, his eyes crinkling as he grins down at me.

  “Hey, Tiko!” I go up on my toes to hug him. As soon as he lets me go Reesa is there with a huge smile and hug for him next. He smiles down at her with adoration.

  “Looking good, girl,” Tiko says to her and she beams, but lets him go to take my brother’s hand again.

  Catwoman sashays her way over, stopping with a sassy hand on her hip. Reesa begins introductions. “Mother, this is Russell Lexon, my husband. Russ, my mother Rainell.”

  She seems to let out an involuntary chuckle at the word ‘husband,’ but greets Russ with a kiss to the cheek, then looks me up and down. Not in a judgy way, just curious I think. I hold out my hand as Reesa introduces us.

  “Mother, this is Russell’s sister Lanna. Lanna, Rainell.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “Likewise, Lanna.” She peers around at our group. “I daresay you’ll enjoy your time on Mars.” Then she stops at Tiko and seems to get all melty. “And I hope you’ll visit before you leave on mission.”

  Tiko gives her a heated nod—who knew a nod could be so hot?—before saying his goodbyes. Reesa squirms a little and I try to imagine how I’d feel if my mom came on to one of Russ’s Hornets. The thought is laughable.

  Russ, Tiko, and Tripoli leave together, looking menacing and gigantic as they move down the silvery hallway. The Mars humana look puny in comparison and they give the men a wide berth.

  The three of us women make our way to an assigned hovercraft where our luggage is waiting. Rainell presses her thumb to a screen to activate it. We climb in, she types our location onto a screen, and we move smoothly down the lane. It’s a tight, but comfortable ride. We stare out the windows in silence. I smile at the short robots on every street and sidewalk, going back and forth. Are they vacuuming? Awesome!

  “Your hovercraft is nice,” I say, needing to fill the quiet space.

  “It’s not mine, dear,” Rainell says. “All hovercrafts are community owned.”

  “They’re kind of like taxis,” Reesa explains to me with a smile.

  “Oh.” It’s quiet again and I force my lips to stay closed as I watch the buildings pass. There’s a certain comfort to the methodical placement of everything and sheer cleanliness. No trash litters the grounds. No leaf debris or dirt. The only trees are found on corners in large pots that hinder their growth. When we get farther away from the airport and closer to the towncenter more people are walking around. I can’t help but smile at all the crazy, fun hair. Women and men alike. The popular style seems to be horizontal rainbow stripes with a zig zag crimp.

  Reesa and I stick out like major Earthlings with her brown waves and my straight lob. I don’t care though. I’m entranced by the mood of the towncenter. So many people are smiling and laughing. I’m jolted at the realization that nobody’s face is crammed against the screen of a phone.

  “Doesn’t everyone have a Mars device?” I ask, thinking about the comm thing my brother and the other Hornets have.

  Reesa smiles at me. “There are wall screens in every building for communication, but Mars prefers to keep the electronic waves to a minimum.”

  Well, that’s quite a notion. People are actually talking as they walk. Laughing. And those who walk alone are looking around with content expressions. It’s as if they’re all in on some big, happy secret. The bottoms of most buildings are restaurants and businesses, while the upper floors are living areas with small balconies. I wonder which one of them is for the Nevestas and Nevestos, but none of the buildings are labeled ‘Pleasure House.’ I think Mama would be disappointed at the lack of novelty.

  In fact, many people on Earth call Mars “Sin State,” as opposed to Sin City like Las Vegas, but I’ve been to Vegas and there is no comparison. Vegas feels seedy. It’s dirty and flashy and part of the thrill is the atmosphere of corruption. Mars has the feel of a grown-up theme park. It’s hard to explain. I feels safe and enclosed, and yet I somehow know I’m about to have a lot of fun.

  It might be silly, but I can’t help but look for Hans as we move through the streets at a smooth canter. To my disappointment there’s not a warrior in sight.

  We stop in front of one of the tallest buildings and climb out. A doorman easily lifts our roller cases out and when I rifle for money in my purse, Reesa shakes her head, mouthing, “No tipping.”

  Wow, okay. I settle for a simple thank you instead, and the tall handsome Mars guy with deep purple hair grins down at me, openly perusing my face and body. I’m immediately blushing, which makes Rainell chuckle.

  “Go easy on her, Hensley. She just arrived from Earth.”

  “An Earthling?” He admires me some more and I nod. “Your hair is beautiful. Is it real?”

  My eyes narrow, wondering if he’s teasing, and Reesa laughs, answering for me. “Yes, it’s very real. No wigs or extensions here.”

  “Wow.” He’s still smiling then he makes a motion. “May I?”

  “Um, sure.”

  I stand very still as the cute guy runs a hand through my hair. He’s one hundred percent into it, genuinely feeling the strands with interest.

  “It’s like silk. The synthetics can’t dream of coming close to this.”

  I giggle awkwardly. “Doesn’t anybody grow their hair out here?”

&n
bsp; “Not after childhood,” he says, still openly eyeing me. “Your voice. It’s like something from a movie.”

  “She’s a true southerner,” Reesa tells him. He looks at her now, appraising Rees, then me again.

  “Hensley, this is Lanna Lexon and my daughter, Reesa. They’ll be staying with me for six months.”

  “Hot stars,” he says, like Cool Beans or something. He really is cute, although when our eyes meet I keep staring confusedly until it dawns on me that his eyes are not naturally dark purple. He’s wearing lenses to match his hair.

  “Lanna,” Rainell says pleasantly, “feel free to have Hensley up to your guest room any time.”

  “Hm? Oh.” My eyes widen. I catch Reesa’s cringe and Hensley’s innocent head tilt and realize Rainell has just told me I can invite Hensley up to bang him. “Um, thanks.”

  “Your cheeks,” Hensley says with a chuckle, running the back of his fingers across my hot skin, which I’m certain is tomato-red.

  “Yeah.” I try to laugh as I press my palm to where he just touched. “That always happens when I’m…” I wave a hand wondering just what the hell I’m trying to say. Embarrassed? Shocked?

  “Okay, then, let’s get inside,” Reesa says, saving me. “Thank you, Hensley. Nice to meet you.”

  I know I’m such a nerdy noob, but this place is weirdly fucking awesome.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rainell’s flat is actually a giant studio on the top floor, “the penthouse,” but she has all these weird floor-to-ceiling folding dividers that can turn the space into separate rooms. It’s still very nice and private, but I decide immediately I will not be bringing anyone up here to bang when we’re all separated by flimsy partitions. And then I mentally prepare myself for the fact that I might have to hear Reesa and Russell going at it, or Rainell and her boyfriend—who Reesa tells me is her father, though they don’t have a relationship. I seem to feel sadder about that fact than she does.

  Once we’re settled in, Reesa pulls me aside and whispers, “I’m so sorry about my mother.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t worry. I know how Mars is. And I’m not a total prude.”

  “I know,” she insists. “But she embarrassed you.”

  “She just took me by surprise,” I whisper. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured while you’re here.”

  “I don’t. I swear. I want to have a good time, and just be myself. And mostly…”

  I chew my lip and she nods. “You want to see Rawk.”

  We share a smile and she seems to relax a little. Reesa is intuitive. She’s always able to read between the lines and know what I’m not saying.

  “I—” She lowers her eyes and shakes her head.

  “What?”

  With a deep breath she forges on. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  My stomach sours. “What do you mean? About Hans?”

  “Yes.” Now she looks at me with sorrow. “He’s not in a good place. And your brother…” Reesa sighs.

  “My brother what?” My sour belly squeezes with nerves as my pulse jumps and I grasp her arm. “You didn’t tell him I like him, did you?”

  She hedges, peering around my small space. “I mean, not directly, just, kind of like hinted or something.”

  “Rees!” I hiss.

  “I know, I’m sorry.” She takes both my hands now and I’m glowering at her. My brother was never supposed to know of my interest in Hans. He’s the biggest cock-block ever and she knows this.

  “Well, whatever,” I say, lifting my chin. “I honestly don’t care what he says or thinks. I’ll have it out with him if I have to. And I know Hans is hurting. I know he might not be interested in me, even if he was doing well. I just have to try or I’ll never know.”

  Reesa gives me a small smile, looking proud. “Okay. Let’s rest and then we’ll have dinner and go out to find him. Sheralyn says she sees him every night at Sky Club.”

  “She does? What else did she say about him?”

  Again with the hedging, shrugging, glancing anywhere but at me.

  “Tell me.”

  “He’s always drunk. High. You know…self-medicating.”

  “And women?” I ask, my heart thumping too rapidly.

  She gives a curt nod. “Yes. Women.” That’s all she says, but it’s enough. Hans Rawko is sexy as hell and he’s acting like a fucking Rockstar on the brink of self-destruction. I rub my face before falling onto the downy floor mattress and shoving my face into the pillow.

  Reesa leaves me like that and I nap for almost two hours until the smell of food wakes me. It smells like basil. I trudge out from behind my divider and join Reesa and her mom where they’re talking quietly at the table. They both smile when they see me, and we make small talk. Rainell is still in her catwoman suit. She appears comfortable even though it’s skin tight. Looking closer, I’m pretty sure the sleek black bob is a wig.

  The table is next to a wall of windows and I peer out at the surrounding area. Looking up, the dome gives off an iridescent shimmer like a bubble, and beyond that is a light brownish-yellow hue. It’s so strange not to see a blue sky or clouds. From this fifth floor view I can make out the perfect angles of the streets and buildings, the fluffy small trees planted on every corner. The neat rows of solar panels atop each matching structure. The symmetry of it all is so bizarre, like I’m looking down at a model townscape. Nothing about Mars was rushed or half-assed. They fully thought through every single detail and it’s even more amazing and comfortable than they make it seem on TV. Sometimes I think all the brains left Earth and now only reside here.

  “I ordered our meals for us this morning,” Rainell says. “I hope you don’t mind. The special was Mediterranean chicken.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. It’s been weird getting used to the food. We had Earth meals for about the first month of our journey here, and then they switched to Mars edibles. Basically, they have greenhouses for vegetation but none of their meat comes from live animals. All of the protein is genetically modified in a lab, animal cells grown on petri dishes. I mean, I’m glad no animals had to die to feed me but it’s such a weird concept. At our first Mars meal on the ship I remember saying, “Y’all, Mama might disown me for saying this, but the lab meat’s not half bad.”

  A pleasant ding sounds and Rainell stands to open a wall panel, pulling out a tray with three covered plates and three glasses of water. I stare down at my rectangular patty of white meat with bits of red tomato and green basil. It looks like a Christmas mold of some type. Mama would be thoroughly disgusted. But when I take a bite it’s full of flavor. The texture of the meat is a little off, too spongy, but I’ve gotten used to it.

  When we finish, the tray of dirty dishes is sent back through the wall conveyer back down to the kitchen in the lower level. I look over at the small kitchen. It’s got a mini oven and one-burner.

  “Do you ever cook?” I ask Rainell.

  “No, never.” She eyes the kitchen like it’s a waste of space.

  I look at Reesa. “I guess you did some cooking growing up?”

  Her eyes widen a fraction and she shares a glance with her mother before nodding. “Yes. Sometimes.” Rainell looks away.

  Hm. This was one of those moments where I wished Reesa was more open. She acts shady sometimes about her past and I wish she’d open up to me. Obviously if she was one of the chefs on Russ’s ship she learned to cook somewhere. If not at home, I’m guessing she took classes? I have no idea why she’d act strange about me questioning it unless there was more to the story that she doesn’t want to share. It makes me sad because I tell her everything.

  “Maybe we can shop for ingredients and I can cook a southern meal while I’m here,” I offer.

  Rainell perks up. “Oh, how lovely!” She’s not very excitable, in general, so this small enthusiasm makes me happy.

  “Let’s get ready,” Reesa says, smiling. “Wait until you see Mother’s makeu
p center!”

  She’s right. It’s freaking amazing. All you have to do is punch in what you want, rest your face in the mask, and stay very still as the machine catalogs your features and applies everything. I don’t use much makeup normally but I’m having fun, so it ends up darker than normal. Whatever. I’m on Mars! I’m going to a sky club! I’m going to see Hans!

  Okay, girl, calm down, I tell myself.

  The two of us are decked out. Reesa’s hair is in an intricate upsweep, and my blond hair is French braided close to my scalp on one side, while the rest of my straight locks have been teased into forced volume like a female rocker. We’re in practically matching little dresses but hers is red and mine is black. We link arms and take the elevator down, then climb in a hovercraft to take us to Sky Club.

  I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m unreasonably nervous about seeing Hans. How long has it been now? Almost two years. Last time I saw him it was at a company picnic before Russ and the other Hornets left on their mission where they met Reesa. Hans had flirted with me when my brother wasn’t close by. I still remember exactly what he’d said.

  “You better quit growing up, little Lexon, or we’ll have to fight off anyone who gets near you.”

  “Too late, Hans. I’m already grown.” I’d flirted right back, a hand on my hip and what I hoped was a sexy smirk on my face. He’d laughed.

  “You’re not grown yet.”

  “Wanna bet?” I’d stood taller, my size C cup lifting as much as it could. I remember being very disappointed that I’d worn jean shorts and a stupid T-shirt to the cookout instead of a little tanktop or something.

  But I very much recall the way I suddenly felt like the sun was blazing down on only me when my words hit Hans and his eyes dangerously narrowed. For a second, I know he’d wanted to take that bet and see exactly what was underneath my “Avocado Aficionado” tee. But his will power and respect for my brother always won out.

  God, why’d he have to be so hot?

  I’m a nervous wreck when we take the elevator up to the highest point in the town, the tenth floor. Other people chat comfortably around us, laughing, taking in my strange hair then introducing themselves. Mars people are not afraid of strangers. It’s an open community. Listening to them talk is funny, because the education level is off the charts. Mars humana are basically super dorks with crazy hair and zero shyness. Their friendliness has me laughing by the time the doors slide open, and I’m grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts.