Defying Mars (Saving Mars Series-2)

by Cidney Swanson

  “Smartest guy in any of my classes,” said Hikari. “I wondered, that is, well—”

  “Spit it out, son,” said Crusty. “’Less you want to choke on it.”

  “If you don’t mind,” said Hikari, “Ethan said to me once he’d die a happy man if he could just walk outside without a walk-out suit. Not to imply—oh, Hermes—I’m sorry. I just wanted to know if he got his wish on Earth.”

  Something about the deep shade of red covering Hikari’s face softened Jessamyn toward the young reporter. He seemed a very decent sort.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Yes, he did. And he enjoyed it even more than he was expecting.” She smiled softly, remembering Ethan on the Isle of Skye. “You can put that in your newsfeed if you want.”

  Hikari looked away, flustered. “I’m not authorized to request a soundbite.”

  “Well, you got one,” grunted Crusty, as he pulled Jess away with him.

  Jess, looking over her shoulder, waved goodbye.

  Hikari bowed, smiling sadly.

  Jess turned back to Crusty, wishing to prolong her time with him. She dreaded returning to her house, no longer the home for which she longed. “So, how’s your new super-algae doing?” she asked.

  “Hmmph,” grunted the mechanic.

  The two walked in silence, and Jess realized she felt more comfortable at the gruff old man’s side than she’d felt anywhere these past two days.

  “Hey, kid? What would you say about tellin’ your ma about my algae?” asked Crusty.

  “Tell her yourself is what I’d say.”

  “Yeah, well, we had a difference of opinion a few years back. Before you was born. I don’t know as she’d welcome a visit from me.”

  Jess grinned. “You and Mom argued? What about?”

  Crusty tried to shove his gloved hands into pockets the walk-out suit wasn’t equipped with. Then he tried to scratch his hand along his new-shaven chin. The sound of his hand hitting his helmet made Jess laugh.

  “There was this time your ma thought me and her’d be a good pair,” said Crusty, kicking a small rock in his path.

  Jess paused to consider the implications. Crusty as her dad? Well, not exactly. She, Jessamyn, wouldn’t exist at all if the gruff mechanic had married her mom. “Huh,” was all she said.

  “Kinda turned her down,” said Crusty. “I reckon we haven’t said more’n two words to each other the past eleven annums.”

  Jess shook her head. “You and my mom have some catching up to do.”

  Crusty responded using a word with which Jess was unfamiliar. The intention, however, was unambiguous.

  “Come on,” said Jess. “Let’s get out of here.” She gazed longingly at a row of fast MCAB ships, sure everything would feel better if she could just get behind the controls. “Hey, do you have the authority to borrow a speeder?” she asked impulsively.

  As he settled his helmet, Jess saw Crusty’s broad grin. “You bet, kid. What’d’you have in mind?”

  “You’re coming home with me,” said Jessamyn. “After a little sunset chasing.”

  But the perfect nightfall eluded Jessamyn and she caught only a dull yellow dusk, disappointing as stale rations. In silence, the two raiders flew back into the darkness and watched as stars and then the Terran satellites popped out visible against the black sky.

  At length, she sighed heavily. “Oh, Crusty. If only Ethan had been able to complete his mission.”

  “Well, he did the important part,” replied the mechanic.

  But that was just it, Jessamyn thought; he hadn’t done the most important part. Terrans still controlled the satellites.

  And this insight had been responsible for another set of fears. Mei Lo was trying to convince herself that someone else could complete Ethan’s task from home. But if there was one thing Jess knew, it was that her brother was always right when it came to computers and code. If he said it wasn’t possible to work on the satellites from Mars Colonial, then it wasn’t possible. End of discussion.

  And yet, Mei Lo needed those satellites firmly under her control before she could present the reason for not engaging in trade relations with Earth.

  It was impossible.

  Looking at her navigation readings, Jess realized she’d crossed into the southern hemisphere and was going to be late for dinner. She pulled the ship back toward home, seeking out the soft glow of New Houston. She recalled with a smile Pavel’s shock upon hearing that Mars had cities.

  Pavel. Jessamyn’s belly did a kind of flop inside her. She missed him. Wanted to talk to him right now.

  But that was impossible. Pushing the wish aside, she pulled up before her home. A sprinkling of low lights burned in the main part of the house. Jess felt a twinge of guilt at the prospect of her parents waiting again for her arrival to begin evening rations.

  She and Crusty made their way to the front airlock in silence. Once they’d slipped out of their walk-out suits, Crusty spoke.

  “Can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” he said.

  “It’s just my mom. She doesn’t bite,” Jess said. “Well, she won’t bite you, at least.”

  Jessamyn’s father met the two as they stepped into the main dwelling.

  “Raider Daschle Crustegard,” said Jess’s father. “It’s an unexpected honor to have you here.” Turning, he called, “Honey?”

  Jess looked around for her mom.

  “She might be sleeping,” said her father, apologetically. “Give me a moment.”

  But her father, instead of heading down the hall to her parents’ sleep room, turned up the hall toward Ethan’s wing. Jess frowned. Had her mom taken to napping in Ethan’s room? That might explain some of the anger directed Jessamyn’s way the other morning. Or not. Jess wasn’t sure about anything at the moment, when it came to her mom. Maybe it had been a very bad idea to bring Crusty.

  But Lillian was calm and appreciative at the unexpected visit, insisting Crusty join them for dinner when she learned neither of the raiders had eaten yet. Crusty took Jessamyn’s regular seat and Jess, looking at the remaining places, slipped into her brother’s chair.

  An awkward silence settled over the room. Jess was determined to break it.

  “Crusty’s been looking into some new ideas for the household algae program,” she said.

  “Oh?” said Jess’s father.

  Her mother remained silent, but looked up to meet Crusty’s eyes.

  “Probably nothing,” he said. But he moved into a discussion of his curious ideas with Jess’s mother.

  Before long, the two rose so that Crusty could take a look at some of Lillian’s experimental pots. Jess thought her mother sounded embarrassed as she crossed to the plants.

  Her father spoke softly. “She’s not been giving the algae as much attention lately. I’ve been trying to keep them alive, but I don’t have your mother’s touch.”

  Jessamyn’s eyebrows flew up. Her mother, not spending every spare moment on her potted algae specimens?

  “That doesn’t sound like Mom,” she murmured.

  Her father frowned and placed his elbows on the table, bringing the tips of his fingers together in a thoughtful way. “She’s trying … Really …”

  Trying what? Jess wanted to ask. The vagueness of the phrase annoyed Jess. It was as if her father could only speak of her mother in unfinished sentences.

  “I thought she might try her hand at hacking code,” said Jess’s father. “Your brother’s talents come from her side.”

  “Not entirely,” said Jess, indignant on her father’s behalf. “You’re a genius according to your students.”

  He grunted out a small laugh. “Nice to know. Anyway, Mei Lo filled in your mother and me on the rest of Ethan’s mission this morning. I guess she’s hoping someone here can tackle the problem of gaining control of the satellites.”

  “Oh,” said Jess.

  “I think it might help your mom to focus on something different for a change.”

  “Is Mom hopeful about th
e project?” asked Jess.

  “She’s not optimistic,” said her father, shrugging.

  “Ethan said it was impossible to fix things from here,” said Jess.

  “That’s what Mei Lo said,” agreed her father.

  “Do you think Ethan’s right?”

  Her father tapped his fingers one against the other. “It’s not likely he’d be wrong on such a subject. I took a look at the problem. It was way beyond anything I could tackle.”

  Jessamyn nodded. Looked over to see where Crusty was gesticulating—rather wildly for him—at one of her mom’s algae pots. She heard her mother laugh softly, but it wasn’t a real laugh. It was a small sort of polite laugh people make when it is expected or kind or appropriate.

  Jess turned back to her father. “So Mom’s not enthusiastic about hacking the satellites, then?”

  He shook his head absently, playing with the foil wrapper left from his meal. “It wasn’t as good of a distraction as I was hoping for. I’m trying to think of a better one.” Then he looked up and frowned. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your mother’s trying very hard.”

  Jess leaned in. “Trying what very hard?”

  Her father’s face wrinkled with deep furrows. “Forget I said anything.”

  “Dad,” she spoke in low tones. “I’m not likely to forget with Mom like … like that,” she said, gesturing her head toward her mother. “What’s she trying to do ‘so very hard’?”

  Geoffrey Jaarda sighed. Drew a hand through his thinning hair. Smiled at his daughter. “To find a reason to live, I suppose.”

  Jessamyn blinked. Oh.

  “I see,” she said. Which was completely untrue.

  “Yes,” her father said, as if agreeing to some point Jess had made. “It’s helping, having you back. She’s much better than she was.”

  This is better? Jess shook her head ever so slightly.

  “We’re both so happy to have you home,” said her father.

  Home.

  She tried to smile at him. But this wasn’t home anymore, and they both knew it.

  “I’m going to bed,” she said, suddenly tired. “Tell Crusty I said goodnight.”

  Her father nodded, his attention drifting back to her mother.

  Jessamyn walked to the hall, pausing to decide which room offered the better hope of a good night’s sleep: hers or her brother’s? Behind, she heard her mother’s artificial laughter again.

  She’s trying so hard.

  Reluctantly, Jess admitted her mom might need Ethan’s room more than she did, and she turned toward her own room.

  She crawled into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

  She had too many problems to solve. Problems no one else was going to solve, it seemed. They chased one another in her head, like pebbles tossed round in a dust storm: Mei Lo must retain her leadership, but how can she with everyone seized by Terran-fever? Solution: tell everyone about the Terran threat to annihilate Mars if Mars spills Earth’s dirty little secret. Problem: some idiot will try to use the information to advantage. And get us all killed. Solution: wrest control of the satellites from Earth so we can fire at any weapons or ships they send to destroy us. Problem: Eth says that’s impossible anywhere except on Earth. Solution: … Solution: …

  She tossed and turned and thought and repeated her list over and over until she felt like the proverbial dog chasing its own tail. Did dogs really do that, she wondered? She hadn’t observed enough dog behavior to know for certain. Mei Lo. Terran-fever. Terran aggression. Satellites. Ethan. It was no good. Solutions didn’t come because you thought harder and harder about how badly you needed them.

  Sometimes, there were no solutions.

  17

  WHERE YOU SEE FENCES

  Within hours of the failure at the satellite facility, Pavel, Ethan, and Brian Wallace were on their way to the New Timbuktu Gold Processing and Re-educational Center for the Retirement of Criminals. Happily for them, the point of these facilities was to keep reprobates in and not to prevent their entry.

  Using a combination of Pavel’s knowledge of the medical treatments available to prisoners, Brian Wallace’s understanding of how bribery and procurements were best managed, and Ethan’s skills at persuading computers to perform illegal functions, the three arranged their visit under the auspices of providing arthritis care for Harpreet. Which, according to Pavel, was not normally accorded to prisoners. But the warden, for some reason, made a habit of ordering the injections with a regularity that allowed the additional visit to go unremarked upon.

  Gold was no longer processed in the West African location, but the name gave a sort of glamour to the institution. This was useful in keeping at arms-length those elements of the Terran population who disapproved of re-educational imprisonment. In reality, prisoners’ working hours were devoted to ensuring that among the trace minerals which were mined in New Timbuktu, no precious metals or rare earths were accidentally overlooked. The labor was moderately demanding, causing someone in Harpreet’s condition more than a few uncomfortable nights and achy mornings.

  Thus she was delighted to be released from labor in order to be seen by a doctor. And she was even more delighted when the assistants of the unknown doctor turned out to be Ethan (in a new body) and Brian Wallace (looking much the same.) Pavel, she immediately accepted as a new friend, expressing remarkably little shock that the three of them had managed to infiltrate the prison.

  The true shock was experienced by the would-be rescuers, and it came down to this: Harpreet did not, as it turned out, wish to be rescued.

  “What do you mean, exactly, by saying that you’d rather stay here?” demanded Pavel.

  “Harpreet is in the habit of stating exactly what she intends to communicate,” said Ethan.

  “So I am.” Harpreet smiled and turned her attention to Ethan. “Tell me, son, how do you find your new body?” Her bright eyes rested upon his missing limbs.

  “It is sufficient,” he replied, causing Harpreet to laugh softly.

  “Ah. Well, sufficiency is something Marsians know how to appreciate.” She sighed. “I believe your sister will have made it home by now.”

  Ethan spoke softly. “So I believe.”

  “Bringing with her hope wrapped in copper,” added Brian Wallace, with a smile.

  “You have a touch of poetry about you, Mr. Wallace,” said Harpreet.

  “And more than a touch of the practical, Ma’am,” replied Brian. “Ye really ought to come with us. Young Ethan here needs to consult with ye.”

  Harpreet’s dark eyes widened. “Indeed? Tell me, doctor, how much longer do we have for my appointment?”

  “They’ll give us another five minutes, max,” replied Pavel.

  “Then let us consult now, my friend,” Harpreet said to Ethan.

  Very concisely, Ethan recounted his failed mission and the resulting destruction of the building.

  “The codes are lost,” said Ethan. “Even I cannot recreate what was destroyed. I wished to know your opinion: ought I to attempt to communicate this failure to the Secretary General? Such communication could draw unwanted attention to us or to Mars.”

  “No. I would not communicate failure, if I were you,” said Harpreet. A warm smile suffused her face. “What would you say if I told you knowledge of how to communicate with the Terran satellites can yet be recovered?”

  “Indeed?” asked Ethan.

  “How?” asked Pavel.

  “You must speak with Kazuko Zaifa, formerly employed at the satellite facility you tell me has been destroyed. She is no friend of Terran government at present. However, she is a very good friend of mine.”

  “She’s here?” asked Pavel.

  Harpreet nodded. “I suggest you discover a reason to treat Kazuko Zaifa’s rather distressing arrhythmia,” she said.

  Ethan’s hands flew across his wafer holoscreen just as a loud rap sounded upon the door.

  “Two minutes,” called a voice from outside.

  Harpreet sighed a
nd then beamed at the three men. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see the two of you once again and to make your acquaintance, Pavel.” She rose as if to leave, removing a small coiled something from her pocket.

  “But you will not join us?” asked Pavel.

  “I have found a place where I am needed,” said Harpreet, shrugging softly. “The gifts placed into our receiving are not to be lightly discarded.”

  “Gifts?” said Pavel, gesturing about him. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I see fences and bad food and medical care that would have been a joke three centuries ago.”

  Harpreet smiled. “Where you see fences I have found opportunities. Now then, listen carefully. I am consulted by many. I have new friends who once were courted by the Chancellor. It seems she likes to send her former acquaintance here.”

  Pavel grunted in a small laugh.

  “They tell me things of interest, these ousted politicians and household servants,” said Harpreet. “These items of interest I have stored away.” Here she passed the small coil of plastic into Pavel’s hand. It might have been a twine to secure bags of refuse. Or it might, as she intoned, have held secrets to topple empires.

  “Time’s up,” called the guard outside.

  “Come see me again some time,” she said smiling. “And consult Kazuko Zaifa immediately.”

  “I set up an ‘appointment’ for her just now,” said Ethan.

  Pavel raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You did?”

  “He is a most astonishing young man,” said Harpreet to Pavel, indicating Ethan. “Until we meet again.” She crossed to the door and joined her armed escort with a smile upon her face.

  As she left, the three men heard her asking the guard how he was and if his back was giving him any trouble today.

  “Unbelievable,” said Pavel.

  “She’s one of a kind,” said Wallace.

  “That is no mere figure of speech,” said Ethan.

  Pavel stepped into the hall, calling for security. “I believe I am to treat one additional detainee today?”

  The officer consulted a handheld wafer. “Prisoner Kazuko Zaifa,” he said. “I’ll have her brought to you right away, sir.”