Defying Mars (Saving Mars Series-2)

by Cidney Swanson

  “That will render my task impossible,” said Ethan. Then he closed his eyes, a pinched look upon his face that Pavel didn’t think came from wound pain.

  Pavel felt terrible. Could he have flown the ship differently? Probably. “I just didn’t think they’d fire on a building,” he said at last. “Lucca will kill those guys for blowing up a building in the city limits. They know that.”

  Ethan’s eyes closed for several minutes. Pavel checked his vitals. His body would be fine. But his mission? What would it do to Ethan’s mental health? At last Ethan reopened his eyes.

  “Pavel,” he said, “I believe it is time for me to consult with my remaining crew. Might we visit Harpreet next?”

  Brian Wallace turned back, an eyebrow raised.

  “Please,” said Ethan. “I require her advice.”

  Pavel nodded, heartsick for his mistakes of the last ten minutes.

  “Oh, I do love a good rescue,” said Brian Wallace, rubbing his hands together with childlike delight. Then he punched in the coordinates of the “New Timbuktu Gold Processing and Re-educational Center for the Retirement of Criminals,” Harpreet’s last known place of residence.

  13

  HE WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAME

  Jessamyn returned home from her long conversation with the Secretary General feeling exhausted. She discovered her father and mother had put off evening rations for her arrival.

  “You should have eaten,” said Jess, feeling guilty. “They could have kept me there for hours.”

  “Well, they didn’t,” her mother replied tersely. “Shall we?” She gestured to the rations table where food and drink had been carefully laid.

  Jessamyn sat in the chair that had been hers as long as she could recall, noting again the patent emptiness of her brother’s place at the table. She gazed at the date stamp upon the ration as she opened it.

  “Your grandfather used to do that,” murmured her mother.

  Jess looked up.

  “He would check every bar for the Terran date stamp,” explained Lillian, her voice soft.

  Jess’s father chuckled. “So he would.”

  “Harpreet did it, too,” said Jess, feeling hopeful at her mom’s conversational turn. But then she asked herself, What are you hoping for?

  She didn’t know.

  “Mars will feel a smaller place without her,” Lillian said. “It’s been so hard. So much harder than I thought it would be.”

  Jessamyn looked up. Her mom’s eyes glistened.

  “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you and your brother both,” said her mother. “It’s good to have you home safe.”

  Jess sipped her water. It tasted like dust. She carried her now-empty wrapper to the recycle mech. Watched the copper-colored foil as it fed slowly out of sight. She stood for a moment beside the rations room counter, uncertain whether she wanted to stay with her parents or just be alone.

  Stay, she told herself. Stay. Sidling past her mom, Jess shot a hand out to give her mother’s shoulder a quick squeeze. On the table, shining in the softened artificial light, Jess saw two spots of moisture. Her mother was crying. Lillian Jaarda did not waste water.

  “Mom?” Jess spoke softly, touching her mother’s shoulder once more. “You okay?”

  Lillian took a shaky breath. “I want to thank you, Jessamyn, for making possible—” She broke off, shaking, and took a slow breath in.

  Jess watched as her mother, lips pinched tight, drew herself upright, squared her shoulders, and murmured, “Please pardon me.”

  “It’s okay, Mom.”

  Lillian shook her head ever so slightly as if in silent dissent. “You made it possible for your brother to realize his full potential. Thank you, Jessamyn.”

  Jess sat in awkward silence. You’re welcome, felt like an inadequate response. She struggled to find something better, but words felt slippery, elusive. “He would have done the same for me,” she said at last.

  Her mother rose to leave, then turned to give Jessamyn half a hug. Without speaking, she turned again and retreated to her room.

  “It’s late, Jessie,” said her father. “Get some sleep.”

  Her father’s voice, low and soft, recalled to her the thousand times he’d spoken just those words. The thousand times she’d complained at the unfairness of having a bedtime earlier than that of her brother. She did not complain this time. She rose and when she looked back to say goodnight before turning down the hall, she saw her mother within her room sink quietly to the floor, kneeling, her arms wrapped about her mid-section, her mouth opening to form a low moan as her husband moved to join her.

  Jess made her way to her brother’s room, where she lay upon her sleep mat and watched Phobos and Deimos travel their bright paths.

  14

  A TINY O

  Lucca Brezhnaya was in a foul temper. Not even reports of the Viceroy’s waning popularity could put her in a better frame of mind. She’d had to discover on a broadcast feed the news that a building in the capitol—a government building—had been fired upon and destroyed. Spending the morning reassuring the public that it was a scheduled military exercise upon a defunct facility had not put her in a better mood.

  Worst of all, the troops who had dared destroy a building within the pale of the capitol city had failed to bring to heel the brigands who’d broken into the facility. The Chancellor paced, a fearsome creature, within the confines of her penthouse office.

  What was so special about this facility that it merited being broken into not once, but twice? She’d ordered reports on the earlier break-in, as well as information to ascertain which satellites had fallen within the purview of the antiquated facility. Impatiently, she awaited the delivery of this information.

  A gentle ping informed her at least one of the reports was available. Crossing to her desk, she glanced over two new pieces of intelligence. One, she dismissed as irrelevant. The other informed her that the building governed satellites she’d not thought of in over a century.

  Her mouth formed a tiny O.

  It was the facility that governed the Mars Containment Program satellites.

  Lucca sank into the chair behind her desk.

  Who wanted to know more about Mars? And for what purpose? And what had they failed to achieve upon their first visit? Whatever it was, had they accomplished it this time? She swore aloud, calling down a detailed string of odd and unpleasant fates upon the secures who had failed her.

  Shouting for her trembling secretary, Lucca requested the names and dispositions of the criminals apprehended at the previous break-in as well as a complete report of the follow-up to that event.

  What she learned was not entirely unsatisfactory. Although the male felon had died during re-bodying at New Kelen, two females lived. One of them was situated in Dunakeszi, at a hospital for brain injury patients.

  “Dunakeszi,” she murmured. A quick search confirmed the hospital was close by. She called for her secretary again. “I want this patient brought in for immediate interrogation.” She smiled. Lucca Brezhnaya found interrogation to be one of the more satisfying duties associated with her position.

  She glanced down at the record for the other captured female. This one, she saw, had been sent to New Timbuktu for re-education without being re-bodied. Interestingly, there was a scientist from the satellite facility who’d been sent to New Timbuktu following the break-in as well. The scientist had been blamed for leaking information that led to compromised security in the building. Lucca scowled. The lack of compelling evidence against the scientist meant she probably knew nothing. The Chancellor was all too aware of how certain of her underlings were eager to demonstrate a commitment to catching perpetrators of crimes, which resulted in bringing to justice those who were innocent. And, more to the point, ignorant.

  Lucca heard a quiet throat-clearing and looked up. She despised quiet throat-clearers. “Yes?” she barked.

  “It’s the prisoner at Dunakeszi,” replied the secretary. “It would a
ppear the prisoner has been in a coma for several weeks due to brain injury.”

  Lucca scowled. “She’s insensate? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  The secretary nodded. “What shall I tell the doctor? Do you still wish to have the prisoner brought here?”

  “Fool!” said Lucca. “What am I going to do with an inciter in a coma?”

  The secretary blanched. “What shall I tell the doctor?”

  “Bah,” muttered the Chancellor. “Tell him to continue doing … whatever it is one does in such cases. Do not bother me with such petty concerns. Do I make myself understood?”

  “Yes, Madam Chancellor,” replied the secretary. “Of course, Madam Chancellor.”

  “Idiots,” sighed Lucca as the anxious subordinate scuttled out of her sight. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

  At least there was a scientist and one of the perpetrators remaining. Lucca could do with a nice, drawn-out interrogation today. She put through the order to Red Squadron herself: Bring me Dr. Kazuko Zaifa and the inciter known as “Harpreet.”

  15

  INCALCULABLE DEBT

  Exactly twelve weeks after she had addressed the citizens of Mars Colonial following the disastrous Rations Storage fire, the Secretary General stood once more upon a dais in the Crystal Pavilion overlooking thousands.

  A hush had settled upon the crowd as soon as Mei Lo approached the podium. Looking about, Jessamyn saw repeated upon foreheads the three blue markings she’d seen when she’d arrived home. Crusty had explained them to her: the blue tear shapes were a gesture of mourning for the three lost raiders.

  “Tears’re mighty precious on our world,” Crusty had remarked in approval.

  Jessamyn noticed Mei Lo’s forehead remained clear of the marks of mourning. Jess hoped this was a sign that the Secretary did not regard the Mars Raiders as gone beyond recall. Any doubts as to the strength of the Secretary’s hopes were cleared away during her remarks at the podium.

  “Citizens of Mars Colonial, my friends and my inspiration, I come before you today not to bury our brave lost Mars Raiders. Rather, I stand here today in order to speak in their praise, to share with you today a few of my own memories and observations of these three brave souls.

  “I first met Cassondra Kiplinger when she was a girl of four winters. Cassondra, or Kipper, was a child of Squyres Station. Any of you who have visited this austere settlement know that to pass even one Marsian winter in its harsh environs is a noble accomplishment. Daughter of tellurium miners, Kipper showed an early aptitude for

  leadership in a settlement known for the orneriness of its residents. To lead anyone in Squyres Station in any direction is no small thing.”

  She paused for laughter.

  “And yet Kipper organized activities that brought life and joy to those around her. Her ‘Inspire a Child to Read for Life’ program is in use throughout the settlements of Mars Colonial.”

  Jess’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

  The Secretary continued praising Kipper’s other accomplishments and ended with a call to action. “Ask yourself what good you can undertake within your own school or neighborhood. How might you contribute to the bettering of your settlement? Be inspired by her example, as I have been.”

  Jess allowed that she might have misjudged her captain in some regards.

  The image of a smiling Captain Cassondra Kiplinger was replaced by a photograph of Harpreet caught with her head thrown back in laughter. It was a familiar sight to all who had spent any time in the old woman’s presence. A murmuring sigh passed through the Crystal Pavilion.

  “I can only say that if you haven’t met Harpreet Mombasu, you must be a cave-dweller of the most reclusive order. More than anyone else I know, Harpreet stands as an example of all that is kindest, wisest, and most giving among our people. A Mars Raider upon not one but two missions, she is surely among the most fearless of us all as well. Many, many of you here today found the courage to follow your own dreams as a result of one of Raider Mombasu’s inspirational school visits.”

  A round of thunderous applause rumbled through the building, and Jessamyn joined in.

  “As an advisor, she has been worth far more than her weight in water. As a friend, she has brought light and laughter to many.” The Secretary paused to turn her gaze to Harpreet’s shining face upon the wall. “Very wisely, it has been said of the peacemakers that they are blessed. Harpreet did more than just help those of us who keep the peace of Mars; Harpreet Mombasu created peace wherever she roamed.”

  “It is spoken among us, ‘Be as generous as a dog.’ At times, it can seem as if our lives as Marsians are composed of lack. I’m the first to admit our descendants will enjoy a life richer and more comfortable than that which we know.

  “But Harpreet Mombasu placed little value upon riches or comfort. Instead, she valued the ‘wealths’ of friendship, peacemaking, and sharing with others. Might we find our lives enriched if we acted as she did?”

  The Secretary turned aside to cough and a young boy stood to offer his water packet. Smiling, Mei Lo, knelt, accepted the packet and took a slow sip.

  “Mmm,” she said to the child. “That’s very good water. I am grateful for your generosity. You remind me of my friend Harpreet.”

  The Secretary, standing once more, spoke in a voice that betrayed how close she was to wasting water in a very public way. “And a little child shall lead them,” she murmured. “And now, if you will allow me to bring to your notice another selfless young man, I would like to say a few words about Ethan Jaarda.

  “There are many ways to be brave. But where we see someone who acts in spite of great fear, we say: that is courage. I have known many brave adults. Many brave children as well. Yet I have met few who walked so willingly into the heart of what unsettled them as did Ethan Jaarda.

  “Ethan could have settled for a life of ease and prosperity upon Mars. In his twenty-two years he invented more useful objects and found more solutions to problems than most engineers will in an entire lifetime. We have no patent system upon Mars. But if we did, my associates at MCAB tell me Ethan would hold more such claims than anyone in the history of Mars Colonial.

  “This young man had another compelling reason to remain at home. Ethan bears an alter-ability which profoundly affects his daily life. Those of you who live with claustrophobia will recognize at once the challenges of a Marsian lifestyle. Our dwellings are by necessity of compact size. Travel upon the surface of our world is impossible outside of a walk-out suit. We are at all times constrained by the harsh environment we have chosen to call home.

  “Imagine, if you will, how much greater the test of resolve for such a person to contemplate dwelling for weeks at a time upon a small space-faring vessel. And yet Ethan chose to do just this. As you all are aware, MCC sent two crews of Mars Raiders to Earth. Ethan agreed to go when I asked him to accomplish the audacious task of disabling the laser array. This, he did, before he was taken prisoner and re-bodied upon Earth. We owe him an incalculable debt.”

  Jessamyn could feel the shift in the mood around her. In twos and threes and then by dozens around the room, people rose from their seats in silence to award their highest form of accolade.

  “This ovation and much more, Ethan surely deserves,” said the Secretary. “In fact, it is my hope that you will join me in calling for a rescue to be undertaken to bring back to safety Kipper and Harpreet and Ethan next annum.”

  Upon the dais, several board members blanched. Evidently the Secretary had not consulted with them before expressing her hope. But the room went wild with clapping, stomping, and whistling. It was electric and contagious and completely unstoppable. Crusty, catching Jessamyn’s eyes, raised his brows as if to say, Couldn’t ask for a better response than this.

  A pair of the more worried-looking members of MCC’s board had approached the podium and stood beside the Secretary. She shook her head vigorously, No. The tension upon the dais thrummed palpably, reminding Jess of all Mei Lo had sa
id about her position being so tenuous.

  The Secretary held her hand high for silence, and the audience settled back into their seats. Mars’s diminutive leader spoke softly.

  “This is not my decision to make—the sending of a rescue mission. But I urge you, citizens of Mars, consider the contributions made by these lost raiders. Consider what is owed their bravery, their sacrifice. And as you consider these things, remember also how you might alter your own lives to reflect all that is best in these three heroes of Mars.”

  Looking about her to take in as many faces as was possible, the Secretary then ended the memorial as she ended all her public addresses. “Work hard. Be courageous. Be bold. And always, be as generous as a dog.” She bowed and exited the dais and the pavilion, leaving a gape-mouthed board to follow her.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” said Crusty. “You got time for a quiet word or two?”

  Jessamyn nodded and followed the gruff mechanic out of the crowded building.

  16

  TRYING VERY HARD

  Crusty and Jess did not, however, get to enjoy an immediate tête-à-tête. Instead, they were subjected to another round of photographs and interviews, Jess carefully emphasizing the dangers of re-opening relations with Earth.

  When the two were finally permitted to depart, Jess stood to one side waiting for Crusty while he joked with a cameraman.

  “Excuse me,” said a young man who’d approached Jess very quietly. “Um, good afternoon. Gary Hikari with the New Tokyo Venture.” He flushed and then said, “Forget I said that. This is nothing official. It’s just, well, I knew your brother. We took Combinatorics together. Great guy. And, um, I’d just like to thank you both for your service.” He bowed slightly to Jess and Crusty, who was now paying attention.

  “You knew Ethan?” Jess asked, immediately regretting her use of past tense.