She pulled out of the main hangar and into the airlock bay.
Pavel thought of her as … as … as a child. It was appalling. He said he loved her. But what kind of love would make him behave like this? Not any kind she was interested in, that was for sure.
She tapped her foot, urging the hangar doors to retract.
When they began to, she crept the Star Shark to the opening, not even waiting for the doors to fully withdraw. As soon as the opening was big enough, she shot through and then jerked the ship into a steep climb. Within minutes the moon shrank away.
She had no destination, but thinking about her favorite way of flying back on Mars, she set the ship into a tight lunar orbit. It wasn’t much fun, as it turned out. She broke free and shot towards high Earth orbit. It would take hours to reach it. And that was fine by her. The more time away from Pavel, the better.
How could he?
And he said he wanted to marry her! It was maddening. How could anyone think that the right way to treat the people you loved was to treat them like a child? She would never do that to someone she loved. If Pavel wanted to storm right down to Budapest and demand Lucca be impeached, would Jess stand in his way?
“No!” she shouted out loud.
Of course, that wasn’t really fair. It wasn’t as if Pavel would do something that stupid. Ugh! She was sick of thinking about Pavel. All she knew was that she would never treat the ones she loved in this way. Take her own mother, for example. Her mom suffered from dry lung, which meant that spending time in drier environments was potentially dangerous. Did that mean Jess tried to keep her mom inside the hab all the time?
“Of course not!” she shouted to the blue and white planet dominating her view screen.
She heard a ping in her helmet. A comm was coming in. She glanced over to the comm panel. It was from Tranquility Base.
“Ignore,” she instructed the ship.
And what about Ethan? What was dangerous for her brother? She had to think for a couple of minutes. Well, it was bad for him to confine himself to tight spaces. She’d seen plenty of examples of that in the past annum. But did that mean she told him he where he could and couldn’t go?
“I don’t think so,” she said out loud.
But something tickled and itched at the edge of her mind. She might not have told him what he could and couldn’t do, but there had been that time at the Secretary General’s home.
“It wasn’t the same thing,” she muttered.
But the thought itched again.
“Fine,” she admitted. “I told the Secretary I didn’t think Ethan should be a part of the Raiding Mission.”
But that was because he was different. Because she knew him. Because she loved him.
Because she loved him.
That sounded familiar.
“Oh, shizer,” she said.
Ping. Another comm. “Ignore,” she said again.
Shizer.
She had done exactly what Pavel did.
No. She’d done him one better.
“I made Mei Lo send me along as his babysitter,” she muttered.
The words echoed inside her helmet with nowhere to go but back inside her ears.
She heard the angry words she’d hurled at Pavel: I don’t need a babysitter.
Jessamyn brought her hands to either side of her helmet and then lowered her head to the nav panel.
She had done the same thing. For the same reason. Because she loved her brother and wanted to keep him safe.
She sent feelers out to the far corners of her mind, looking for the blaze of her anger with Pavel, but it was gone. Like the fuel in a ship as it soared clear of a gravity well, her angry energy was spent.
It was time to head home. Time to apologize.
The next time the comm came through, she took it.
~ ~ ~
Pavel was dreaming of his aunt again, having drifted off following his fight with Jess. He was dreaming Lucca had told him that since he hadn’t cleaned his room, she was going to have to kill his parents. No, he groaned. No.
“Wake up! Wake up!” The Ghost’s voice cracked the silence of the darkened bunk room like an alarm.
“I swear I cleaned my room!” said Pavel. And then he came fully awake.
Yevgeny turned the lights on, and Pavel’s eyes squinted tightly shut. Mr. Zussman was with him this time.
“What is it now?” asked Pavel, rubbing his eyes. He must’ve fallen asleep. As he woke up and remembered his earlier fight with Jessamyn, he found it impossible to pay attention to whatever Zussman was saying.
What was Zuss doing in here anyway? Pavel peeled his eyes open, gave his head a quick shake, and saw Ethan as well. He forced himself to pay attention to Zussman.
“So,” continued Zussman, “Although we do not like to speculate as to the intentions of the boy, it is certain he has created a very dangerous situation for us.”
“We’ve got to get off the moon,” said the Ghost, who was wringing his hands for all he was worth. “Before she destroys the base. Destroys the entire Sea of Tranquility.”
“Start over,” said Pavel, his voice gravelly after shouting at Jessamyn. “I think I might have missed something important. Who’s destroying what and why?”
“An acquaintance of mine calling himself ‘Lightning Boy’ has broadcasted the present location of Pavel Brezhnaya-Bouchard to the entire world. We must assume word will reach the Chancellor very soon, if, indeed, it has not already.”
“Nothing yet,” said the Ghost. “She would contact me first, don’t you see? She knows I live here.”
“We must prepare to evacuate the station at once,” said Ethan.
Pavel looked from Ethan to Zussman. “For real?”
“Indeed, sir,” said Mr. Zussman. “The exposure has occurred, and we must do what we can to mitigate the damage.”
“We must leave,” said the Ghost, whining softly. “Now.”
“But there is a slight problem,” added Zussman. “Miss Jessamyn appears to have flown away in the Star Shark. The Ghost’s attempts to hail her have been ignored thus far.”
“Shizer!” Pavel pressed his hands against his head on either side. “Shizer! We had a fight.” He turned to Ethan. “Comm her again, but boost the signal through her earpiece. She’ll take the call if it’s your voice and not mine or Yevgeny’s.” At least, he hoped she would.
Ethan nodded and exited the room.
Pavel frowned, rubbing his hands up and down either side of his face. “I don’t think Lucca will try to nuke the Moon or anything. I mean, isn’t that kind of, politically stupid if the whole world knows I’m here?”
“With respect, sir,” said Zussman, “it is very difficult to predict just what the Chancellor will do when once her wrath has been incurred.”
“Right,” said Pavel.
Zussman handed Pavel the clothes he would need to wear under his g-suit.
“Are the g-suits in good repair?” he asked Zussman.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
Ethan’s hoverchair hummed along the corridor and back to the bunk room. “Jessamyn was already on her way back home,” he said. “She will be here in nine minutes.”
Pavel closed his eyes; a silent prayer of thanks fluttered through his mind. “Let’s get ready to go.”
43
Tranquility Base, the Terran Moon
Pavel tapped his foot nervously on the floor of the hangar. Jessamyn should be here now. A very angry, very irritated Jessamyn should be here now.
The lunar fugitives were well drilled in rapid departures and evacuated everything of value to them within six minutes. Pavel, Ethan, and Mr. Zussman stood checking one another’s g-suits, Zussman insisting on polishing Pavel’s helmet one final time.
“I have nowhere safe to send you,” said the Ghost, his face downcast. “My Spacing Guild acquaintances would find the temptation posed by your presence to be too great, I’m afraid.”
“We’ll find safe harbor back on
Earth,” said Pavel, looking anxiously toward the hangar airlock. “But what about you? You can’t stay here, man. It’s not safe.”
Yevgeny nodded. “I know.”
“Come with us,” pleaded Pavel.
But the Ghost shook his head. “Too many people down there on Earth. Too much gravity.”
“With respect, sir,” said Zussman to the Ghost, “I have taken the liberty of notifying Jumble that he must make it appear you have been away from Tranquility Base for some weeks.”
“Ah,” said the Ghost. “Yes. Good. Sister would be very angry if she suspected I’d been fraternizing with you.” A small bit of laughter escaped his pinched lips.
“Precisely, sir,” said Mr. Zussman.
“Where will you go?” asked Pavel.
“I have a base on the Moon’s far side. More of a cabin, I suppose. For times when the view of Earth grows oppressive.”
“I’m going to miss you, man,” said Pavel. “You’re the best uncle I could’ve asked for.”
To Yevgeny’s quite obvious embarrassment, Pavel leaned in and gave him a bear hug, wiping his eyes on his sleeves when they parted.
“The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo,” said the Ghost. “You that way: I this way.”
“Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act Five, Scene Two,” said Mr. Zussman.
“Mister Shakespeare has words for every occasion,” said the Ghost, with a sad little sigh.
The hangar shuddered with the sound of Jess landing the Star Shark.
“She flew in hot,” murmured Pavel.
The inner bay door opened slowly to reveal Jess, hanging out of the hatch. “Come on, let’s go!” she shouted across the hangar.
“Goodbye,” said Ethan to the Ghost. “Our deepest apologies for having disrupted your existence.”
“You have enriched my existence,” replied the Ghost.
And with that he turned toward a craft the size of a small cycler.
“Let’s go,” said Pavel, heaving the last of their things aboard. Taking a deep breath, he boarded the Star Shark.
Jessamyn met his eye. “I’d like you beside me,” she said, indicating the seat to her right. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” said Pavel.
“Everyone harnessed in?” she asked, her voice at full volume. “Then let’s burn some fuel!”
~ ~ ~
The Star Shark pulled free of the Moon’s low level of gravity, rocketing into the black of the heavens. Jessamyn tried to feel worried about the reason they were fleeing, or about where they were heading, but she couldn’t. Not at the moment. Right now there was only the pull of the ship as she lifted away, the corrections in her g-suit that told her she was space-bound once more.
“My friend Lobster always said the worst day flying beats the best day on base,” she said softly.
“Do you think he would have included fleeing for your life in that aphorism?” asked Pavel.
Jess remembered Lobster’s ear-to-ear grin the day they braved the satellites together. “Yes,” she said. “Most definitely yes.”
Behind her, Ethan cleared his throat. “I believe I owe to all of you an apology for our present distress. It seemed best to wait until we were safely away, before apologizing. If this pause was a socially reprehensible error on my part, it was unintentional.”
“Mister Jaarda?” asked Zussman. “Why would you believe you need to apologize?”
“The boy who exposed our position is an acquaintance of mine,” replied Ethan. “Doubtless, ‘Lightning Boy’ hacked into my systems and discovered the location of the Chancellor’s nephew through those means. I do not believe he meant to harm us, nor was I aware his hacking skills had progressed to their present level.”
“Oh, shizer,” said Pavel, shaking his helmeted head. “This isn’t your fault, man.”
“It’s not yours, either, Pavel,” said Jessamyn. “Listen, Eth, it was my idea for Pavel to send ‘Lightning Boy’ a personal thank-you for re-broadcasting a feed. I thought it would be a nice gesture and make his day all at the same time.”
“So I wrote him,” said Pavel. “It didn’t occur to me he could trace the comm back to the Moon.”
“He is a very intelligent individual,” said Ethan. “I have already contacted him and asked that he refrain from further broadcasts of a revelatory nature.”
“You think he’s safe? From Lucca?” asked Jess.
“There is no way to be certain,” replied Mr. Zussman.
“Aw, shizer,” said Pavel. “I didn’t think about that. He’s just some nosy kid, not a revolutionary.”
“The Chancellor is directing her energies toward the improvement of her public image,” said Ethan. “He has a reasonable chance of avoiding her wrath at present.”
“As opposed to us, say,” muttered Pavel.
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” said Mr. Zussman.
Jess wasn’t sure of the phrase’s etymology, but “into the fire” sounded appropriately dire. She pointed the ship toward the blue planet.
44
Madeira, Earth
Kipper paced inside her castle bedroom frantically, at work on a plan to prevent the disaster now set in motion. It had begun with a comm from Harpreet. Goodness knew where the old negotiator was hiding now. But she was keeping company with friends in high places; that much was apparent to Kipper. Wherever she was, Harpreet had been given an invaluable piece of information.
The crew on the Moon, now exposed by some hacker, was in danger: Lucca was sending a ship to destroy them.
Kip had not yet passed Harpreet’s intelligence to Cameron Wallace. And she didn’t plan to until she’d worked out her own course of action: until it was too late for the Clan Chieftain to protest or take preventative action. The former captain of the Red Galleon had done her homework. A favorable launch window would open in this longitude in less than three hours, or slightly ahead of the launch window for Lucca’s ship.
Assuming Harpreet’s intelligence was good.
Kipper had no way to send a comm home, in case things went badly. But there was time for a recorded message, at least, and she took several precious minutes to record one. Her mother, though with minimal assets in the department of maternal instincts, deserved this much.
Kipper composed a second comm to be delivered to Mei Lo, who had been more than a parent and much, much more than just Cassondra Kipling’s commander-in-chief.
With those comms stored where Cameron would find them after it was too late to stop her, there was only the question of acquiring a ship.
Kip had long since established herself as a frequent visitor to the hangar adjacent to Cameron Wallace’s castle. An understanding existed between Kip and Jamie, Cameron’s sergeant-at-arms, such that Kipper could take any ship, at any time, which was not otherwise required by either Lady Wallace or her (illegal) paramilitary.
As Cameron’s troops were under heavy surveillance by the Terran occupiers, and as Cameron herself refused to leave her island while it remained occupied, Kip was fairly certain of having the pick of the fleet. Which was fortunate, as she required something with both horsepower and firepower. As far as Kip was aware, Cameron Wallace kept only one such vehicle that was spaceworthy.
Kipper needed to make it look like nothing more than a routine flight, something to keep her instincts finely honed as her physician had recommended. Kip felt a wave of self-doubt: would her brain fail her in this critical mission?
“It can’t,” said Kip, firmly, “so it won’t. Got that?”
Her words echoed in the bedroom suite that she used to share with Jessamyn and Harpreet. The loneliness had not been as bad as she’d expected since the two had departed. Between completing her physician’s recommended course of recovery and harassing the Terran occupiers by various means, Kip had plenty with which to occupy herself. She smiled grimly and rose to depart.
The hangar was quiet; the Terran government officer in charge of hangar “security�
�� broke off flirting with one of Cameron’s pretty mechanics just long enough to flash a grin at Kipper. Normally Kip was in the habit of scowling at or pretending not to notice such smiling officers. Today, however, she gave him a curt nod as she made her way to her chosen vehicle.
She recognized the officer: he’d grilled both Kip and her physician a few weeks back regarding Kipper’s flight therapy. Cameron had stood up for Kip, and Kipper felt a twinge of guilt deceiving the clan leader as she planned to today.
Thanks to the increased observation of Cameron’s hangar, the chieftain had been forced to install additional tracking devices provided courtesy of the Terran government. But no real harm was done through the trackers. Ethan had provided instructions for disabling them and for setting up a looping feed that made it appear the devices were functioning nominally.
Remembering how easily they had imposed the deceit on the occupying troops, Kipper couldn’t help smiling just a bit as she continued past the Terran government officer. If he thought the smile was meant for him, so much the better. A grin broke across her face. She was glowing. She was confident. She was invincible.
And she was close to running late. Now safely past the officer, she picked up her pace to a jog.
Once inside her chosen ship, Kip ran a series of diagnostics on the vehicle. It was Star Treader class, and Kipper noted with amusement the ship’s given name: Artemis. The name of the ancient goddess of the Moon; it felt like a good omen. A shiver of anticipation hummed through her bones.
A flicker of movement on her rear view screen caught her attention. Smiling-officer was making his way toward the Artemis. If he commed her, Kip would have to answer. She couldn’t risk getting shot out of the sky. Maybe he was just going to the opposite end of the hangar to flirt with someone new.
She busied herself with pre-flight checks. Cameron kept the fleet in perfect order, Kip knew, but today’s mission would allow for no corners cut. Kipper ran the checks by the book.
Striking Mars (The Saving Mars Series-5) Page 17
