But with every shovelful of mud he dug under the hot Martian sun, he cursed Cade. The slime worm would pay for every blister, every drop of perspiration, every second of backbreaking labor on this empty stretch of crater along the muddy bank of the Martian Sea.
One of the lowest places on this barbaric planet, the smelly water sat in the middle of a stinking desert. It was beyond him why anyone would want this worthless planet, never mind fight over it for three hundred years.
Shoving the blade into the soft muck with his foot, then extracting each sucking load caused his lungs to heave in the thin air. Making slow progress, he sought to work faster before the mud seeped back into the hole he’d just dug. According to his instruments, the portal piece was only another two feet down, but the mud filled in almost as fast as he could dig.
Using determination and super-Raman effort, Jamar finally struck something hard. Dropping to his hands and knees, he scooped out the muck, eager to recover the first portal piece and turn on the signal to see where the second one had fallen.
After Jamar matched the GPS signal to his vidlink’s holomap, he swore. “Salt’s blood.”
The portal pieces had been designed to land in unpopulated areas. Yet the damned thing had landed in the northeastern part of the Moon in a luxurious area of man-made lakes that attracted tourists.
Interrupting his cursing, Jamar’s vidlink rang. “Yes?”
“We’ve picked up a report of two people, a man and a woman who seemed to have survived a rocket crash, near the coordinates you asked for us to monitor.”
Damn Cade. Once again, he’d managed to survive.
Jamar’s communicator beeped. Receiving a message from Rama was rare enough to startle him. “Hold on, I have another call.”
He set down the vidlink and hurried to read the response to his last missive home, where he’d informed the Council of Firsts that Cade had arrived on Earth and that his Quait had grown strong enough to walk through fire. He read the message twice, sweating and cursing their stupidity.
The Council had ordered Jamar to keep Cade alive long enough to test the underfirst’s new abilities. Didn’t they understand that Cade was dangerous?
The underfirst had eluded death too often for Jamar not to be wary, and he had no way to judge his growing powers. Cade had survived everything Jamar had thrown at him—the shooting of his spaceship, the asteroid laser-burst attack, the fire, and the rocket crash. And damn Cade to everlasting hell, he’d apparently survived the rigors of the Martian desert, too.
Of course, it might be the pilot or copilot and the woman who’d lived, but Jamar couldn’t count on luck. He picked up the vidlink and gave his orders. “There’s been a change in plans.”
43
Watching the geyser gush white silica into black space with Jupiter’s spectacular moons in the background had been an experience that Jules would have enjoyed more if she hadn’t been so worried about Shara’s asteroid crashing into Earth. If she weren’t so concerned about Shara. It wasn’t like her not to return a call, and Jules didn’t need a vision to know that something was wrong.
Afterward, sharing a meal with Lyle, he’d joined her for a few glasses of wine from her mini-bar. Sparks darted between them, and Lyle had kissed her good night in the doorway of her room.
Talk about sizzling connections. Damn, the scientist sure knew how to turn her on.
With the way her nerves were jumping and her pulse was racing, the evening might have proceeded in a romantic vein—except her vidlink rang. Light-headed from the kiss, Jules fumbled with the vidlink, checked the caller ID, and frowned at the number she didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“It’s Teresa Alverez. Have you heard from Shara?”
Fear spiked down Jules’s back. “I was hoping you had. But I had a vision of her rocket exploding over a desert.”
“She never arrived in Siren City, and I’ve reported the missing rocket to the authorities. Search parties are about to start looking for her. But all of the area around Siren City is a Martian desert—I think, so her chances of survival aren’t good.”
As if Shara’s rocket being missing wasn’t bad enough, to Jules’s horror, Teresa told her that she was in the hospital after suffering a brutal attack from Jamar. And the man had extracted all her intel by using his Quait.
Jules closed the link, numb. If Shara and Cade had survived, with Cade’s expanding powers, would he turn into a monster like Jamar? Would he hurt Shara?
“What’s wrong?” Lyle asked.
Jules felt as if she’d been punched in the gut so hard she was about to vomit. Jules’s eyes brimmed with tears. Where was Shara? What was happening to her?
“If you don’t tell me, I can’t help.” Lyle took her into his arms and held her, his arms warm and powerful, yet gentle.
Jules appreciated his calm strength. At the turn of events, he’d channeled passion into compassion, and she appreciated his giving her time to come to grips with what she’d just learned.
Finally she spoke, choosing her words with care. “The private investigator that Shara hired was tortured. Teresa was forced to reveal Shara’s flight plan. I’m afraid that’s why her rocket didn’t arrive in Siren City.”
“What can we do?”
“Teresa’s already notified Search and Rescue at the space station as well as the authorities on Mars. I don’t know what else we can do.”
44
Shara awakened to beeping. Although she hadn’t risen to the sound of an alarm in years, half asleep, she automatically reached to turn off the irritating noise, and her hand landed on something hard, a muscular shoulder to be exact.
Snuggled against one another to share body heat, they’d fallen asleep beside the fire. The sun was rising, and Shara had no idea what was causing the electronic beeping.
She shook his shoulder. “Cade?”
He muttered something but didn’t otherwise move.
“Cade.” She shook him harder, then stood, hoping the sound of civilization meant rescue. But the desert remained empty, except for a few tiny creatures scurrying by the salt lick.
Cade blinked sleepily and opened only one eye, as if deciding whether waking was a good idea. Unwilling to allow him to slip back into sleep, Shara kneeled beside him. “Is that beeping coming from you?”
Cade sat up so fast, she jumped backward in surprise and toppled to her bottom. “What’s wrong?”
He stood, dug into his back pocket, and removed the device he’d made out of purchased parts back in New L.A. She peered at it warily. “Is that the locator beacon alarm?”
“Yes.” He frowned and switched off the beeper. “Jamar’s found the first portal piece.”
“But he can’t destroy it, right?” She was fuzzy about the portal pieces’ engineering.
“Correct. If he destroys the first sphere, the beacon won’t activate the two other pieces.”
“Why would Jamar care? If he destroys the first piece of equipment, won’t he have succeeded in stopping you?” And Shara wouldn’t have to do so herself.
“Not necessarily. While three pieces are optimum to tap the Lamenium, in theory one piece might suffice.”
Might? Shara didn’t like the sound of that and wondered if the lack of a piece could lead to the cataclysmic explosions of Jules’s visions. “So Jamar needs to find all three pieces to make sure he stops you?”
“The beeping woke us after he found the first piece, and it activated the second beacon.”
“Where is it?”
“The Moon. Which gives us a chance to get there first. He’s still in Mare Sirenum, out in the boonies of Mars. We’re closer.”
“But doesn’t he have a fast spaceship?”
“Yes, but the space lanes between Mars and Luna are busy. If he goes into stealth mode, one of your ships could crash into him. So we have a chance.”
“Uh—have you forgotten that we’re stranded in the middle of the freaking desert?” Standing, she dusted off her backsid
e. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t slept well after their lovemaking and subsequent argument.
She would have killed for a hot cup of coffee with scrambled eggs, wheat toast, and strawberry preserves. Or flaky croissants slathered with honey butter. Or pancakes with blueberries and whipped cream. But as hungry as she was, she’d have traded all the breakfast food for a good shot of whiskey and the satisfying burn that would spread through her system and bring on a fuzzy warm glow.
At first she thought the buzzing in her ears was simply due to a lack of food. But then she saw Cade peering between the mesquite branches toward the sky, his hand shading his eyes from the sun. “It’s a hoverplane.”
He raced for the open desert, and she peeled off after him. A hoverplane meant rescue from the heat of the day, the cold of the night, and gnawing hunger. Rescue meant a hot shower, communication with the entire solar system, and a call to Jules.
Heart pounding, Shara sprinted after Cade, ready to wave her arms and guide in the rescuers. But the hoverplane flew into the sunrise and the eastern sky, clearly unable to spot them and she skidded to a halt. Despair and exhaustion struck her, and she wanted to throw a temper tantrum, stomp her foot and scream at fate—but she couldn’t find the energy.
“More hoverplanes will come, and we must be ready.” Cade’s words interrupted her pity party.
“How do you know more will come?”
“The hoverplane appears to be flying a search pattern.” He pointed to the sky. “See. It’s turning.”
“But it’s not coming back this way. Maybe it’s simply changing course.”
“Maybe. But how long must you be out of touch before Jules will know something is wrong and call in help?” Cade took her hand and led her back toward their camp. “If you gather enough branches, we can move the fire into this clear spot and create a lot of smoke the next time a hoverplane flies our way.”
His words made her feel better. Whether he believed them or not, she didn’t know, but his determination awed her. “What makes you so strong?”
“The salt you found for me,” he answered simply and squeezed her hand.
“I’m not talking about physical strength, I’m talking about how you manage to stay positive. How you don’t give up—no matter what.”
“What other choice do we have?” He frowned as if he didn’t understand her question.
It was as if Cade put all his energy toward the goal, leaving no room for doubts or despair or the what-if-no-one-finds-us question. His special kind of mental fortitude awed her. He did it without alcohol, without family, without any of his people to help him.
And this was a man who hated his mental control? If anyone could use absolute power for the good of his people, she would bet on Cade.
“Come on.” Cade interrupted her thoughts. “We can move the fire after breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” At the memory of the locator device in his pocket, she wondered what else he’d stashed away. “Have you been holding out on me?”
Together they strolled back toward the stand of trees around the spring. Cade glanced sideways at her, his expression puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Her voice rose in anticipation, and her mouth salivated at just the idea of food. “I’d forgotten about the locator device and thought perhaps you might pull a granola bar from your pocket, too.”
“There’s food all around us.” He gestured to the desert, and she considered whether he was hallucinating. All she saw was sand, rocks, and craters.
“Yeah, right. Just beyond the next rise, there’s a gourmet feast just waiting for us to eat.”
He chuckled at her sarcasm and pointed to a hole in the dirt. “That’s a burrow.”
“Looks like a hole to me.”
“It’s a hole made by an animal.”
“And?”
“If we catch it, we can eat it.”
“You’re assuming the animal is still around. Maybe it made the burrow last winter.”
He kneeled down, parted the thin brown grass, and pointed to a tiny indentation in the sand. “That track is fresh.”
“How can you tell?” Sometimes Cade’s knowledge amazed her. He’d just arrived on Mars, but he knew how to survive here better than she did.
“The edges are sharp and clear.”
As hungry as Shara was, she didn’t want to think about what kind of animal lived there. Or about killing and eating it. “I’ll gather more wood,” she volunteered, leaving the hunting for food to Cade.
She’d grown up on a farm, and if he caught food, she would eat it. So she certainly wouldn’t condemn him for hunting. She just preferred to avoid the unpleasant task. She soothed her conscience with the knowledge that he was much more qualified to hunt than she was.
“Choose the branches with lots of leaves. They’ll make the most smoke.” Cade snapped a stick and knelt beside the burrow.
During her trips from the stand of trees where she gathered branches, she watched his progress. Cade found a large flat rock that he propped up with the stick. He baited the trap with a potato chip. Clearly, he hoped that as the animal went for the chip, the rock would fall. Primitive, but efficient.
Dragging the wood in the hot sun required frequent rest, and she drank often at the spring. After one trip, she dumped armfuls of branches and rested near the fire. “Are we moving camp?”
“I’d rather stay by the trees, because it’s a bit warmer there at night, but keeping two fires going takes too much effort.”
“All right. I’ll move our bedding grass next.”
“Here.” Cade thrust a flat brownish-green piece of cactus at her.
Gingerly she took it. Cade had smashed the edges, knocked off the spines, and peeled one thick side away. “What is it?”
“Food. I ate a piece last night. It didn’t make me sick. Go ahead. It’s not meat, but it doesn’t taste bad and helps fill the belly.”
“Thanks.” He’d tested the cactus himself to see if it was harmful. However, she wasn’t certain they shared the same biology, since she didn’t require anywhere near the vast amounts of salt he consumed.
She licked the pasty substance and then began to eat in earnest. “What made you think that cactus might be edible?”
“We have similar plants on Rama. Our worlds are different, but the similarities are endless.”
“Really?”
“We have insects and fish, birds and mammals, too. The variety on Earth is much greater, perhaps because your world isn’t as ancient. And your people did a good job transferring a desert eco-system to Mars.”
“Do any other species on your world use Quait?” she asked.
“Quait is what separates Ramans from animals. That’s why underfirsts aren’t considered human. But even if my people knew they could develop Quait by ingesting enough salt, the Firsts would never allow it. They need our labor to survive.”
Shara tore apart the cactus innards with her teeth, determined to ingest every morsel. “So what will happen to the Firsts if you succeed in building the portal and sending salt back to your world?”
“They will either learn to work like the rest of us or . . .”
“Or?”
“They will die.”
She peered into his eyes and tried to keep her own devilish smile under control. “And how will the underfirsts adjust to their new powers of Quait?”
“They’ll adjust. They have no choice.”
She closed the verbal trap that she’d baited and hooked. “So they won’t think they are becoming monsters—like you do?”
45
The drone of a hoverplane prevented Cade from having to respond. Instead of answering Shara’s question, he sprinted to the signal fire. After tossing handfuls of kindling on top to build the blaze quickly, he placed leafy branches over the flames, careful to smother the fire just enough to cause clouds of smoke, without choking it of the thin oxygen.
Beside him, Shara picked up and waved a leafy branch, trying to enlarge the smoke sign
al. Cade didn’t look up. Busy feeding the fire, he focused on the task.
“It’s turning. The hoverplane is turning,” Shara shouted and began waving the branches wildly.
Cade looked up. The small craft seemed to be flying directly toward them. He began waving branches, too. The hoverplane circled overhead and dipped its wings. “He sees us.”
“No. He’s leaving.” Beside him, Shara collapsed onto the ground as the hoverplane flew away.
“He saw us. He dipped his wings. He’ll vidlink others for help. Only specialized aircraft can land in this loose sand without a solid airstrip.”
“Oh.” Shara nodded, her shoulders sagging, her head down so that he couldn’t see her expression. She played with a rock, absently digging in the dirt. “You think they’ll send a chopper?”
“Maybe.” Cade had no idea why one moment she’d been so excited, the next, almost despondent.
He came up behind her and kneaded her shoulders, unsurprised to find knots of tension. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Aren’t you happy that we can get out of here?”
“Of course.”
She didn’t sound happy. “So what’s wrong?”
“Tell me how the portal works.”
Her request took him by surprise. “I don’t understand the science behind it, but—”
“I’m not talking about the physical mechanism. Is it like a door? Can people from Earth go through it to your world?”
“That’s how I plan to go home. But your people wouldn’t want to go to Rama. The Firsts would abuse them just like the underfirsts.”
“But your Firsts and underfirsts could come here?”
Lunar Heat: 1 (The Heat Series) Page 20
