Losing Mars (Saving Mars Series-3)

by Swanson, Cidney

  “Well,” said Cameron, as the pair entered the great hall once more, “It’s a sad day for all of us in Madeira, as ye’ll doubtless have noted from the peeps.”

  “The, er, bagpipes?” asked Jessamyn. “Is the music a … dirge?”

  “Aye. Juan Bautista Flores de Santiago has been reported dead, following decompression sickness.” Cameron snorted in disdain. “Decompression sickness, my grandmother’s knickers. Boy was born with a dive table tattooed on his brain. Seventh-generation diver, mind, lasses. Ah, well.” Cameron took a moment to compose herself. “Thanks for joining me for supper.”

  Jessamyn looked about in hopes of pizza, but seeing none, she took a small portion of fish.

  “I’m not saying it’s your fault, now,” Cameron said, looking at Jessamyn. “Boy made up his own mind in spite of me warnings. But it stings nonetheless. If that boy died of the bends, then I don’t know my head from my—” The clan chief stopped herself. “Forgive me. I’m that upset about it.”

  “In my experience,” said Jess, “when someone says ‘it’s not your fault,’ it’s because something is my fault.”

  Cameron sighed heavily. “Well, the Chancellor has laid claim to that broken ship of yers and all its contents. The problem being, the contents are located some five hundred to a thousand feet—er, that’ll be two to three hundred meters—underwater at present. So she’s had to gather a crew of experienced divers, hasn’t she?”

  “Who know how to keep secrets, one would presume,” added Jessamyn.

  “Aye, lass. Juan signed on to remove or disable underwater mines in the area. The Chancellor’ll not risk the word getting out about the largest find of tellurium in history.”

  “Underwater mines?” asked Kipper.

  “It’s a reasonable lie,” said Cameron. “The area could easily have been mined against invasion by the nation of Japan a few hundred years back. And neighboring sea beds are farmed for sea urchins. Brezhnaya just had to claim government assistance was needed to make the area safe for farming. I warned Juan it was likely to be the tellurium. And he went anyway.”

  Cameron looked close to tears, and the three ate quietly for the space of several minutes. The baleful strains of the piper floated into the castle alongside the clicking of forks on plates.

  Cameron spoke again. “The truth is that while I warned Juan, I was also very eager for intelligence from the operation. And now he’s dead. I’ll never know if he died because his reports to me were intercepted or if Lucca just decided he’d seen too much. But I know he didn’t die of decompression sickness.”

  “We’re so sorry,” said Kipper, making Jessamyn wish she’d said it first.

  Jess had never once worried about the impact of abandoning a ship full of tellurium. But it was her fault, this death. Would others follow?

  “I’m beholden to you, then,” said Jessamyn to Cameron. “You’ve lost a friend and your own wealth has been decimated, both because of choices I made.”

  Kip looked at her first officer with her brows drawn sharply together, but she said nothing.

  “What’s done is done,” said Cameron. She dabbed at her lips and then eyes with a large square of fabric. “If we’re to chase the trail of blame back we must include Cavanaugh and probably some Wallace somewhere who married someone, producing Cavanaugh’s great-great-grandmother. We’re in this together, lass, however much I might like to shift blame.”

  “So Lucca is bringing the tellurium up from … the bottom of the ocean?” asked Jess.

  “Aye. Unfortunately not quite the ocean bottom. That, even she would find nigh impossible. But there’s an extended underwater plain off the coast where the Galleon landed. It’s called the continental shelf, and the water’s relatively shallow there. A pity the ship didn’t land a few knots further out to sea.”

  “I see,” said Jessamyn. “And once Lucca brings up this tellurium, your own holdings—which you can’t trade now—will be worth next to nothing.”

  “Obviously,” murmured Kipper.

  “Well,” said Cameron, “me own reserves, spread out fine amongst us, might keep the clan afloat, but I don’t like to risk any of them being hauled in as inciters. Lucca’s got me by the short and—hmm, pardon me. My extensive conversations with nautical persons has somewhat roughened a few of my expressions. What I mean to say is the Chancellor’s got me well in her grip and she likely knows it.”

  “So why not steal the tellurium yourself?” asked Jessamyn.

  Kipper made a choking sort of noise. “Theft is not the answer to every problem, Jaarda.”

  “Don’t be angry with her,” Cameron said softly. “I’d considered such a theft, of course. And poor Juan’s paid the price for gathering the intelligence I needed.” Cameron turned to Jessamyn. “The problem is that the Chancellor’s got the proper equipment to haul things up, and I, alas, do not. She’ll have that wreckage hauled up within the next week or so, if Juan had things right.”

  “I wonder if Lucca plans to tell the world of her great find or keep it secret?” asked Jessamyn.

  “It won’t make a difference to Cameron’s plight,” replied Kipper. “The government won’t need Clan Wallace’s tellurium in either case.”

  “It may not matter to Clan Wallace as a whole, but it will matter a great deal to individual divers like Juan,” countered Jess. “If they see something Lucca wants to keep hidden, they’ll all suffer his fate.”

  “Too likely,” said Cameron, gloomily.

  “The Chancellor won’t want anyone who can spread stories left alive,” agreed Kipper. “I think that much is clear. Her own Red Squadron will be safe, but if she’s hired divers like your friend to do the actual dirty work, it’s a safe bet they’ll all expire from accidents once the Galleon’s been raised.”

  “That’s horrible,” murmured Jessamyn, pushing her plate back. She felt a wave of nausea for the chain of events she’d set in motion. “They should be warned,” she said at last.

  Cameron shrugged. “The workers are on a barge out at sea. And Red Squadron Forces patrol the barge round the clock. The workers can’t likely swim to safety, not one in ten of ‘em.”

  “You have Red Squadron uniforms,” said Jessamyn.

  “Lass, I agree it is terrible to consider the probable loss of life in the next weeks, but I dare not send me own military up against Lucca’s Red Squadron for a handful of persons,” said Cameron softly. “I’ve the entire clan to think of. Nearly a million persons look to me for safety, for employment, for steady leadership. The risk isn’t worth the reward.”

  “Not even for all that tellurium? If you could get it?”

  Cameron shook her head. “If ye’re thinking I could simply abscond with the tellurium, think again. Lucca would declare an all-out war against the clan. Or simply pin us as the inciters who’ve taken the world’s tellurium. That way, she’d not need to do the work of destroying us herself. Ordinary folk would do it for her, like as not.”

  Jessamyn frowned. “What if you didn’t steal the tellurium? What if you took control of the barge and towed it out to the deep, dropped it to sink, and then got out of there?”

  “Like what the Rasmussen family did with their supposed recycling service,” said Kipper, nodding.

  “Exactly!” said Jess, grinning at her captain. “And you could take as many divers with you to freedom as possible.”

  “Beg pardon,” said Cameron. “But I’m not familiar with the, em, Rasmussens.”

  Jessamyn explained. “There was a family charging exorbitant rates to haul off recyclables, but people paid because recycling is the Marsian way. Then it turned out this family simply shoved the trash off the edge of the Valles Marineris—a very deep canyon—making it impossible to recover the items as well as polluting a beloved landmark.”

  “Oh?” said Cameron. “How very … interesting.”

  “Exactly! There’s your solution!” exclaimed Jessamyn. “You said the tellurium couldn’t have been salvaged if the Galleon had landed
a bit farther out. So, you push the stuff off into the Valles Marineris. As it were.”

  Cameron rose and began pacing the length of the great hall, muttering to herself as she measured the length of the great hall in long-legged strides. “Jamie?” she called after a minute. “Would ye ask the piper to play something a bit brighter? ‘Scotland the Brave,’ perhaps?”

  Jamie nodded and left the room.

  Cameron turned back to the two sitting at the table and reseated herself, placing both elbows on the table. “Right. So ye say me red armor’s flawed?” she asked of Kipper.

  The captain nodded.

  “And ye can assist me in the conversion of the, eh, helmet-seals, was it?”

  Kipper nodded once more. “I can provide you with the corrected design. It’s not a difficult fix at all.”

  “Excellent,” replied the clan chief. “And speaking of fixing things, I’d like to propose ye allow me personal physician to look at that head of yours.”

  Kipper’s brows drew together. “Ruchenko told me it was inoperable—”

  “The good doctor wasn’t exactly motivated to make ye free to live an ordinary life, was he?”

  A smile had appeared on Kip’s pale face. “I was about to add that he used to make jokes about my condition and what good luck it was for him. I’d welcome a second opinion.”

  Jessamyn stood, and, hands on her hips, addressed Cameron. “It seems to me that providing a bit of surgery is hardly fair compensation for what Kip and I have just offered. Between the two of us, we’ve just suggested how you can effectively destroy Lucca’s access to that tellurium. Your clan will be safe; you’ll be an immensely wealthy leader once more.”

  “Aye, lass, if all goes well. What sort of reward did ye have in mind?”

  “An M-class ship would be acceptable,” said Jessamyn, crossing her arms.

  “Would it now?” Cameron laughed aloud. “Oh, ye’re a feisty one. I like that, I do.”

  Jessamyn’s hands returned to her hips—the equivalent of a skinny cat puffing out its fur to look larger. “So, will you throw in an M-class ship?”

  Cameron’s visage sobered. “Not for this, lass. I’ll give ye a ship upon one condition and one condition only.”

  “Name it,” demanded Jessamyn.

  “Ye spoke of the cessation of trade between our worlds. I’m not going to say I like that. Not at all. Our clan has been a good and true friend to MCC for nearly two hundred years. We’ve supplied ye right through the war, when it might have cost us all our lives. Every last member of the clan stands at risk for what we’ve done upon the Isle of Skye.” Cameron paused, allowing the sound of the piper’s brave song to swell and fill the hall.

  As the last notes died out, the clan chief spoke again. “I’ll not part with a ship for anything less than a promise that ye’ll make two more visits to our world, trading tellurium for ration bars or whatever it is ye may need in yer independent future.”

  Kipper spoke up. “Jess, you are absolutely not authorized to make this sort of bargain.”

  Jessamyn turned upon her captain. “I’ll mine the tellurium myself, if I have to. And I’ll pilot alone as well. And manufacture the fuel by myself if MCC won’t supply it. It’s my choice to make, by Hades!”

  “And how are you going to do all of this from prison?” demanded Kipper. “Because the moment you set foot on Mars again, you’ll be locked up.”

  Jessamyn paled and seemed to deflate.

  “There, now, ladies,” interjected Cameron. “There, now. Let’s all calm ourselves, shall we?” She looked from Jess to Kipper and back again.

  Jessamyn sank once more into her seat at the table. “Kip’s right,” she said to Cameron. “I can’t promise I’ll be free to carry out what you are asking for. I’m under arrest in absentia.” She placed her elbows on the table and cradled her face. She had nothing more to offer. She was stuck on Earth. She would not return the Raiders to Mars. And it was all her fault.

  “Well, lass,” said Cameron, softly. “I can see ye’d like to help me if ye are able. And ye have the CEO’s ear. Will ye swear to do all in yer power to further trade between Clan Wallace and yer world so long as ye have breath in ye?”

  Jessamyn turned her gaze to her captain.

  “There’s nothing objectionable in that,” admitted Kipper.

  But was there? Was Jess willing to commit herself to trade with Earth? That was what Cavanaugh wanted, wasn’t it? She hesitated. No, what Cavanaugh wanted was a prosperous Mars that had long-term ties to the Terran government. This was different. It was only lengthening the status quo by two more raids.

  Jessamyn had made a promise to return the Mars Raiders to their home world. She couldn’t do that without a ship. And if getting a ship meant entering into a promise to speak up about Clan Wallace’s reliance on tellurium, well, that was very different from trying to set up ongoing trade with the Terran government.

  “Two more deliveries, you say?” Jessamyn asked.

  Cameron nodded. “To give me time to transition to where we need no longer rely upon the influx of tellurium. If MCC were to cut us off cold, lass, well, does it not seem a bit harsh to ye?”

  Jessamyn nodded. “It does. I don’t think anyone of Mars thought of what the consequences would be to your clan. And you have saved us from starvation many times over. We owe you this much, and I will make it my sworn duty to persuade the powers that be of the truth of your claim upon us.”

  Jessamyn felt it in her gut. It was what Harpreet would do.

  28

  HOPE

  But when it came time to make the acquaintance of the M-class ship, Jessamyn discovered news most unwelcome.

  “The engines will have been altered, naturally,” said Cameron Wallace. “In order to prevent interplanetary travel.”

  Jessamyn stared at the Chieftain in dismay. “You’re giving me a ship that won’t get me home?”

  “I’m giving ye a ship in need of some alterations,” said Cameron. “And I’ll load the parts ye’ll be needing in the hold. Anyone with a remotely mechanical bone in their body can do the work required. But I suggest holding off until the time comes to launch. The deep space engines leave a signature in their wake that would set off alarms and get ye shot out of the sky. Or worse.”

  Hope and frustration competed inside Jess, and she stuffed her hands deep into her pockets. It wasn’t a perfect, functional ship, but with some work, it would get the Raiders home.

  “So I’m leaving the engines be for now,” continued Cameron. “Don’t want to bring Lucca’s pets sniffing around to see what Clan Wallace is up to, now do I?” Darkly, she added, “I leave that to me cousin Brian.”

  “Cameron’s absolutely right,” said Kipper. “The Chancellor’s been pushing new legislation to bring the ban on flying down to one hundred kilometers. Sending an M-class with interplanetary capabilities into airspace in the current political climate would be foolish.”

  Jess had no choice but to agree. She couldn’t risk drawing the attention of the Terran government again.

  “She mostly leaves us be, those of us with actual power outside her control,” continued Cameron. “So long as we play by certain rules. One of which is, don’t attempt space travel. She’s no fool. She knows where tellurium’s to be found, and she’ll suffer no one but her own self to go after it once she truly runs out.”

  “But MCC’s sent how many missions here in the last century?” asked Jess. “Without bringing ruin to your clan—”

  “That remains to be seen,” said Cameron, glowering. “Thanks to me fool cousin, Clan Wallace is very prominently on the Chancellor’s radar.”

  Jess felt color rushing to her face. “Cameron, there’s something you should know. That wasn’t your cousin’s fault. It was mine. The Chancellor’s only after Brian Wallace because she wants me.”

  “Jessamyn drugged and stabbed the Chancellor in the course of completing the mission,” added Kipper, drily.

  “Did ye really?” asked C
ameron. “Well, well, lass. That’s something Brian left out. Ye’re a bold one. But I beg to differ a wee bit: no matter what ye might have done to her, the Chancellor wants more than just some red-haired inciter. She wants her nephew back as well. Her nephew last seen in the company of me cousin, Brian.”

  Cameron crossed her arms as if to begin anew her rant against him, but then she sighed and shook her head. “This has gone on long enough. I’m behaving like a child. Would ye tell Brian from me that I’m willing to let bygones be bygones if he is?”

  “Of course,” replied Jessamyn.

  “Is he well, then?” asked Cameron. “It’s hard for me to imagine me cousin without his wee goats and his orchids. I don’t suppose he raises them in the desert, does he?”

  Jess shook her head, No. “But he has friends,” said Jessamyn, thinking of Brian laughing with Renard and Pavel. “Oh, that reminds me. I’m going to need to buy a small craft. I, er, misplaced one in Budapest.”

  Jess then offered the kilo of tellurium she’d carried with her, but Cameron wouldn’t take it.

  “Don’t be silly, lass. Yer metal’s worthless here.”

  Later that afternoon, Cameron Wallace’s physician examined Kipper. A surgeon as well, Dr. Campbell was easily Ruchenko’s superior. But like Ruchenko, Dr. Campbell agreed Kipper’s outcome would be difficult to predict. Surgery might provide relief, or it might not.

  But upon one point, Dr. Campbell stood firm.

  “She needs four weeks to recover. And not in some forsaken desert. I must insist she be allowed to recuperate here, where her every need can be anticipated.”

  “She needs to rejoin her crew,” insisted Jessamyn.

  Here the doctor turned to Jess. “Can your community provide ‘round-the-clock care in a state-of-the-art facility?”

  “No,” said Jessamyn. “But we have a … person who has hospital training among us.”

  “Oh, well, hospital training,” said Cameron’s physician, shrugging. “It’s your funeral, I suppose.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Campbell,” said Kipper, intervening. “You’ve given me a great deal to think about. We’ll need some time to talk things through.”