Mars Burning (The Saving Mars Series-)

by Cidney Swanson

  For the first couple of days aboard the space station, Jessamyn couldn’t decide whether Ethan was having trouble adjusting to the confining space or not. It was so difficult to read her brother in his new body.

  In the past, Jess had been able to rely upon her reading of the tilt of her brother’s head or a hesitation in his step to tell her when he was distressed. But she couldn’t read the signs anymore.

  As a result, Jess woke the fourth morning on the station to a sound she didn’t quite recognize at first.

  “Ethan?” she murmured into the darkened cabin, hoping to hear his soft, Jessamyn in reply.

  But there was no response. Not even a hitch in the sound she now felt certain was originating from her brother’s bunk across the way. He was humming.

  She released the bands confining her to her bunk and spun, weightless, to face her brother’s bunk, pushing off what she had come to think of as the ceiling.

  “Ethan?” she said, voice still soft.

  She could hear Zussman’s polite, restrained snore—he’d gone to bed early. Tentatively, Jess reached out a hand to her brother.

  “Eth, you awake?”

  The humming noise paused for a count of one–two–three and then resumed at a single low note.

  Jess clawed through the part of her mind where she stored “distractions for Ethan,” angry at herself for not having several lined up and at the ready as she would have back home. And the stakes were so much higher here! What had she been thinking?

  First address his physical needs.

  If he’d been humming for awhile, he’d be thirsty. She had vague memories of special wet ration deliveries when they’d been kids and Ethan had suffered a particularly bad spell.

  “Uh, let’s get you something to drink,” she mumbled, her hands undoing the bands holding Ethan to his bunk.

  At least she wouldn’t have to settle him into a hoverchair to take him to the rations room. But he still needed help, so Jess wrapped an arm around his narrow back and pushed off toward the small galley where food and water awaited.

  Blinking from the brightness of the room, she steadied the pair of them toward the rations table and slipped Eth’s arms into the shoulder harness to keep him from floating away. His eyes rested half–open. Jess thought he looked as though he knew where he was, which was something, anyway.

  “I’ll be right back with that water,” she murmured. Pushing off the table, she spun directly into Pavel, who was floating down from his shift at the work station level.

  “Hey,” he said, brown eyes crinkling with a smile. “Thought I heard something.”

  “Ethan’s humming,” said Jess. As soon as she said it, she realized the sound had stopped. “Was humming,” she said, turning back to examine her brother. “Get us both waters?” she asked, pushing back to Ethan. “Eth? You back now? You okay?”

  Her brother opened his mouth but no words came out. After a few seconds, he sealed his mouth once more.

  “You’ve got to wake me up when this happens, Ethan,” Jess said in frustration.

  Pavel floated over to the table, setting out two packets of water. They were oversized, by Marsian standards, which was good, thought Jess. Her brother would be thirsty if he’d been at it all night.

  “I’m just going to check your vitals,” said Pavel, drifting to Ethan’s side and pulling a monitor strip from a sealed shirt pocket.

  Jessamyn wanted to ask Ethan when it had started, how long he’d been awake, what set him off, how she could make things better. But she knew none of these questions would help her brother recover himself. He needed to remember who he was. He needed a task that demanded things of his brilliant mind. He needed something to busy his hands.

  “Drink,” she said, purposely not removing the stopper from the packet as she passed it to him.

  Ethan accepted the packet but made no move to un–stopper the water or to drink.

  “Ethan,” she said, touching the back of one of his hands with hers. “Remove the stopper. It will help ground you. I know you’re feeling untethered right now.”

  Pavel laughed and she glared at him. She wasn’t trying to be funny. Or even ironic, which was something her brother might appreciate under normal circumstances.

  No, her only goal was to get Ethan back to “normal.”

  Next, address his cerebral needs.

  Jess spoke to her brother. “I know who you are, and so do you: you’re a problem–solver. Drink that water so we can get you back at a work station. Those satellites aren’t going to fix themselves.”

  A slight movement of his left hand. The water packet stopper removed. A small sip. And another one.

  Good.

  Jessamyn allowed herself to take her hand from Ethan’s and guzzled her wet ration as well. She was going to need to keep in top form from here on out to make sure Ethan stayed healthy.

  Pavel glided past, a brush of his lips upon her forehead, and whispered, “A few of his vitals are elevated—nothing too serious. It indicates right here,” he said tapping the strip, “that he had trouble falling asleep.” He passed his readings to Jess so she could examine them.

  Jessamyn took the monitor strip, looked briefly, and folded it in half, in quarters, in eighths. She mouthed the phrase, “Will he be okay?”

  Pavel smiled. “You going to be okay, Ethan?” he asked.

  Ethan pulled himself into a more upright position. “I have recovered sufficiently. I would like to work now.”

  Pavel and Jessamyn exchanged quick glances and Pavel nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Without further conversation, Ethan released himself from his harness and floated up to his station.

  Pavel pulled himself closer to Jessamyn, swallowing an enormous yawn. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I guess,” said Jess.

  “I could stay up a little late if you want company.” He covered another yawn with the back of his hand.

  “You’re exhausted. Get some sleep.”

  “Just making sure you’re okay.” Pavel reached for her hand.

  “I couldn’t tell how bad he was,” Jess said, shaking her head. “And I assumed the worst.”

  “I think he just had an off night, is all. But be sure to wake me if you need anything.” His fingers lingered on her wrist.

  “Get some sleep,” repeated Jess. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  When the crew first boarded the space station, Jess had tried to persuade the others that a Galleon–style twelve–hour shift flanked by morning and evening rations made the most sense, but once Pavel had murmured that would mean they’d barely see one another, she’d conceded eight–hour shifts were perfectly acceptable.

  Now that Pavel was off to sleep, Jess pushed away, angling toward the threshold that led up to the station’s work level. Her brother had already strapped himself in for a full day’s work. She smiled, thinking how kind microgravity was to his body with its missing limbs. Aboard the space station, he was barely alter–abled.

  If you didn’t count the humming. She took a slow breath. One thing at a time.

  Crossing behind her brother, she asked, “You ready to do battle with some ancient Terran code?”

  “I am,” he replied.

  Jessamyn scanned his face for signs that he was still suffering, but he appeared placid. She ought to have paid better attention, but this whole getting–to–know–a–new–body was plain crazy. Holy Ares, what made Terrans think body–swapping was a good idea?

  As Ethan rose to access something at another console, Jess automatically reached out a hand to prevent Ethan’s head from bumping against a piece of equipment. He was distinctly less aware of his position relative to outside objects than were most people—that hadn’t changed when he re–bodied.

  In response to her gentle repositioning of his head, Ethan said, “Thank you.”

  That had changed. But Jess didn’t think his new use of occasional pleases and thank yous had anything to do with the new body. She suspected Kazuko had been
drilling him on the appropriate use of what he’d always called throwaway language. Which was more than she or her family had ever been able to accomplish. Jess felt a squeeze of regret that Kazuko hadn’t been able to accompany them.

  “Show me what you got done yesterday,” Jess said as her brother returned to the chair before his preferred wafer.

  “That would be an inefficient use of my time,” replied Ethan. “You would neither understand nor appreciate what I accomplished yesterday.”

  Jess laughed aloud, a brief sound. “That’s the Ethan I know and love. So get busy, already.”

  Rather than responding with words, her brother continued his day’s work, fingers flying across both the screen before him and two on either side.

  Good.

  He was working again. That would keep the humming at bay. Now Jess merely had to figure out how to prevent repeat performances of last night’s hum–fest. For Ethan, it had always been about distraction versus becoming overwhelmed.

  She listed out a series of “Jess’s Best Distractions” in no particular order.

  Tell him a story.

  Challenge him to a game.

  Take a long walk outside.

  She rolled her eyes at herself.

  Counting exercises of increasing complexity.

  Write a message home.

  Break something non–essential that only Ethan can fix.

  Jessamyn sighed as she settled at her own station, examining their orbit. Yup, still hovering just on the wrong side of the government–imposed ban. Well, the contraption didn’t need any help from her to stay in orbit. She wasn’t sure she remembered everything perfectly from her Academy days, but it seemed the gravity–gradient effects alone would have knocked the station around over time without some adjustments. The Ghost must have programmed the station somehow.

  “Jessamyn?”

  Ethan stirred beside her, reaching for a screen just within her peripheral vision. Jess snapped back to the present.

  “Yes?”

  “I withheld information from you and the others yesterday.”

  “You mean about…your mental health?”

  “No,” replied Ethan. “Yesterday I learned that my opponents have found a way to re–enable the lasers.”

  Jess sucked in a loud breath. “The lasers are live again?”

  “It would appear so.”

  “That’s terrible. We have to tell Mei Lo.”

  “I concur. And I apologize for retaining the information. I believe I can disable the lasers in the future, but if I do so, I will expose valuable information about the…” Ethan paused for a moment, searching for words. “I am employing a ‘back door’ methodology to hack the satellites.”

  Jess smiled. “Listen to you, using figures of speech.”

  “You would not understand if I used accurate language to describe my methods. In any event, to disable the lasers would expose my tactics. My opponents might see what I am doing and cut off my means for completing the mission.”

  “By ‘opponents’ you mean people Lucca has brought in to counter your hacks?”

  “That is correct.”

  “How many people do you think she’s got working on this?”

  “I estimate seven individuals are employed against Kazuko and myself.”

  “And Kazuko can’t do anything directly, without a deep–space relay.”

  “She provides valuable insight into possible attacks I can execute.”

  “Still, that’s seven to two. No wonder you can’t sleep.”

  Ethan didn’t respond immediately, but then he must have decided to make a confession. “Although my mobility is improved, I do not care for floating. I have not slept well since we arrived on the station.”

  “I’m sorry, Eth. Isn’t there anything I can do? Teach me some elementary coding. It will ease your load and give me something to do.”

  Her brother frowned. “Mr. Zussman is already assisting me. Perhaps I could find work for you as well. But you would need to study several modules on coding first.”

  “I’ll do it, for science!” said Jess, grinning. “Well, maybe for Mars, too.”

  A brief smile crossed her brother’s face.

  “Very well,” he replied. “I will provide you with instructive materials after we send a comm to MCC regarding the lasers being operational.”

  Once the message was transmitting, Jessamyn set aside the diagnostic work she’d been doing on the Star Shark in favor of some simple tasks Ethan gave her. It wasn’t as interesting as running tests on their spacecraft’s starboard thruster, but it felt good to be doing something that might help their mission’s ultimate success.

  Her brother would be fine so long as he had a task before him, she reasoned, clenching her hands into tight fists.

  Ethan could do this. He’d survived a twenty–one day trip aboard the Red Galleon without a dog to help out. Well, he’d nearly survived. If you didn’t count the last several days spent alone in the captain’s quarters, curled into the fetal position.

  She would not let that happen again. As this resolve came to her, she noticed Ethan’s hands at rest in his lap.

  “Eth? Everything okay?”

  36

  Budapest, Earth

  In the past century, Lucca had forgotten how inconvenient it was to communicate with the planet Mars. Direct, real–time conversations were not possible, so Lucca was reduced to sending a series of statements and then waiting to hear Mars’s response.

  Still, it allowed her the dignity of having every detail of her communication worked out ahead of time. And Lucca liked having details worked out. Where things were pre–recorded, there could be no nasty surprises.

  Regal in a suit of midnight blue, Lucca straightened, turned to the holo–cam recorder, and addressed Cavanaugh Kipling of Mars.

  “This is Chancellor Lucca Brezhnaya, responding on behalf of His Highness the Viceroy of Earth, supreme leader of the Terran world. Greetings. We are most surprised and delighted to learn of the survival of our brothers and sisters upon the Mars colony, thought long dead. That our Mars Project, funded at such great cost to the people of Earth, should still be in existence is a testimony to the noble sacrifice of the Terran people, who made possible your perilous existence in the hostile Martian climate.

  “We yearn to greet you, whom we thought long–lost. We yearn to salute your courage and your clever use of all your ancestors first brought from our world. But, painful though it is for us, we find ourselves in a most awkward position.”

  Here, Lucca paused from speech for a moment, bringing her hands together in front of her waist, and casting her gaze down, a look of exquisite anguish on her face as she held back tears. Perfect, she thought to herself. Then she inhaled, seemed to pull herself together, and continued.

  “I believe that as a leader yourself, Mr. Kipling, you will understand the difficulties your communication creates for me as Chancellor. It is with a heavy heart that we must, instead of celebrating, ask for time to consider how best to present the people on our world with the miraculous news of your survival.

  “In brief, we must consider the repercussions of informing those Terrans who have undergone hunger and want, and even war, because of the extravagance of our forebears. It is not your fault, people of Mars, that Earth suffers and struggles to this day, still recovering from the sacrifices that allowed you to exist. No, it is not your fault, but there are those upon Earth who will blame you nonetheless. Who will demand reparation, or even blood, in compensation for what we sacrificed that you might today live.

  “And so it is with a heavy heart that I must postpone the spreading of the joyful news that our brothers and sisters upon Mars are yet alive. You will understand the necessity of time for us to develop an appropriate strategy so that the people of Earth do not receive the news that you live with anger.

  “Mr. Kipling, even after more than a century, we have barely recovered from the devastating effects of funding the Mars Project, not to me
ntion funding a costly and regrettable war.”

  Lucca paused again, pursing her lips as if preventing herself from chastising the descendants of the wicked, wicked Marsians of long ago. She drew herself taller and spoke again, using her most commanding tones.

  “We must insist that you maintain your long–held silence for the present. We must make certain that, when the news of your existence has been revealed, it will not cause rioting or calls for compensation or for war.

  “We are confident we can trust you to remain silent for now and that you will recognize this is a matter of great importance while we move into a new, mutually beneficial future as two sibling worlds reunited at long last.”

  Lucca presented a sad smile, one she’d perfected over centuries. It counseled patience. It said, I am someone you can trust. It said, I wish I had better news.

  She gave the signal for her camera operator to end the recording, and when he’d done so, she turned, smiling to herself for having been so clever, so reasonable. Cavanaugh, she felt certain, would keep silent. That silence would, in turn, buy her time. Time in which to complete the burning of Mars.

  No one would see her wrath coming. And when it did come, it would be too late for anyone on Mars to do anything about it.

  37

  Station 92–AE

  Jessamyn glided closer to her brother, her attention caught by the uncanny stillness he had adopted. He wasn’t humming. At least, not yet.

  “Ethan, you okay? You still here with me?” she repeated.

  He stirred, as if returning from some corner of his mind.

  “I am awaiting the results from my latest command inputs,” replied her brother.

  Jessamyn frowned, wondering how much “waiting” Ethan had to do on any given day. Comms between the planets were running around twenty–six minutes, at present distance. That waiting time could add up fast.

  “Is that stressful, would you say?” she asked her brother. “Having nothing to do?”

  “I am adapting.”

  Jessamyn’s lips pinched into a thin line before she spoke. “I’m not saying you won’t adapt, but maybe we could get a little more, I don’t know, proactive here with regard to your mental health?”