The Girl From Mars

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The Girl From Mars Page 22

by Brenda Hiatt


  “He’s not usually so—” I break off with a shrug, since I still haven’t said anything to Rigel about that. I should at least mention it to M. It would even be a perfect, non-stalker-like excuse to talk to her. Only…I’m not looking for those anymore. “Anyway, it would be cool to have you on the team.”

  He finally makes eye contact and even smiles. “Yeah, maybe it would. I’ll definitely think about it.”

  Clearly, he’s still not sure about my motives because he watches me closely as he remarks, in a deliberately casual way, “I was also thinking, maybe I should suggest to Kira she try out for the girls’ basketball team, too. She’d be really good and would probably enjoy it.”

  “Great idea.” I don’t mention I’ve already done exactly that. I especially don’t mention that she and I shot hoops yesterday afternoon, just the two of us.

  I spent way too much time last night thinking about Kira, wondering if maybe I really am ready to move on, take a chance. And whether I should even want to, given her political opinions. She could have just been parroting propaganda from that “People’s Network” back home, but what if she wasn’t? If she’s been talking with actual Anti-Royals, Kira could be dangerous…and my first responsibility should be to keep M safe.

  Since Alan’s not in AP Lit, I snag my chance to talk to Kira without him assuming I’m hitting on her. Because I’m not. Yet.

  “Hey.” I catch her before she reaches her desk, a little apart from everyone else. “I’ve, um, been thinking about some of the stuff you said yesterday.”

  “Yeah?” She looks cautiously hopeful. “And?”

  “And I think we need to talk. Someplace…private.”

  Her chin comes up and her brown-and-gold eyes bore into mine, like she’s trying to read my thoughts. “Okay. When? And where?”

  “Maybe sometime after school—in the gym again? No, wait, the guys will be practicing there. We could…go for a walk or something.” Crap, I do sound like I’m hitting on her.

  Her gaze is cool now, like she doesn’t quite trust me. “I’ll think about it.”

  She continues on to her desk and I go to mine, deciding now isn’t the time to push it. Not when I’m this conflicted between my responsibility to make sure Kira hasn’t somehow been compromised and my desire to…what? I don’t even know.

  With my feelings in such a jumble, I don’t try to talk to Kira again after class—not that she gives me a chance. But walking just a few paces behind her on the way to the lunchroom, it’s hard not to notice how alluring she looks from behind. Then, somehow, I end up right next to her in the lunch line.

  “So, um, have you had—” I start to say, when Molly, who I didn’t even notice was behind me, interrupts.

  “Hey, Kira, do you want to come over to my house tomorrow night for a study session, like we talked about in French class? I’d say tonight, but Trina called a meeting for after cheerleading practice and I don’t know how late it’ll go.”

  Kira looks right past me at my sister. “Oh, um, sure, I guess. I’ll check with my parents and let you know tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay, or you can text me. Once we get through the line, we can trade numbers.”

  They continue talking across me about their school and after-school schedules. I make a mental note of Kira’s. Just in case it turns out to be important for some reason.

  After the cashier swipes our cards, we all head to different tables without me saying anything else to Kira. I’m just sitting down with my basketball buddies when I notice M and Molly walking over to where the new Echtran students are sitting. Molly catches my eye and motions me to come, too. Curious, I tell the guys I’ll be back and head over, leaving my tray.

  The three of us reach the newcomers’ table at the same time. Before I can ask Molly what’s going on, she launches into what sounds like a prepared speech.

  “Hi, everyone! I’ve met most of you, but for those I haven’t, I’m Molly O’Gara. M and I—and Sean—” She glances at me— “were wondering if you’d all like to come to Sean’s and my house this coming Saturday for a kind of get-to-know-each-other party?” She looks furtively around the cafeteria and adds, more quietly, “Just, you know, us.”

  Everyone but Kira looks surprised, but most of them nod, some mumbling about checking with their parents.

  “Great! Here’s my number so you can call or text me for details.” Molly hands out little slips of paper. “Oops, later.”

  Trina and a couple of other cheerleaders are heading our way, probably to make sure they’re not being left out of anything—which, of course, they are.

  “So, when did you two cook this up?” I ask M and Molly as we go back to our own tables.

  “This morning at the bus stop,” Molly replies with a grin.

  M nods. “It was actually Molly’s idea, but I think it’s a good one. That thing Thursday night was so formal and crowded, and here at school we all have to be so careful. Something casual, just for us kids, will be a much better way to break the ice and really get to know each other, don’t you think?”

  “I do. Great thinking, Mol.” I still hope Kira—just Kira—will come over tomorrow night, though. The kinds of questions I need to ask her aren’t ones I want anyone else—especially M—to hear.

  Though if I get the answers I’m afraid I might, I’ll have to warn her.

  24

  Incomplete pass

  Needless to say, Mum’s delighted when I ask if I can go to the O’Garas’ house to study Tuesday evening.

  “And the Sovereign might be there, too? Such an honor! I was certain she wouldn’t hold our slip-up against us. So very gracious of her to help you catch up on your coursework. Of course you must go.”

  The O’Garas’ house is a lot smaller—and shabbier—than I expect, but Molly greets me cheerfully while showing me into an equally small and shabby living room. Sean wasn’t kidding about them not being rich, even though they’re Royal. Molly sits in one squashy chair and I sit in another, at right angles to hers.

  “M was hoping to be here,” she says, “but there’s a meeting out at NuAgra tonight, something about the new communication network and how to make sure it’s secure enough. Mum and Dad are there, too.”

  “So it’s just the two of us?” Mum will be disappointed, but I’m not. At least, not because M couldn’t come.

  “For now, anyway. Sean should be home soon but we can go ahead and get started.”

  Though my heart speeds up a fraction, I keep my expression carefully neutral. I’d hate for Molly to get the idea I have a thing for her brother. Because I don’t. Besides, Molly might be easier to get info out of, after the way I went off on Sean about Royals and traditions on Sunday.

  “We can work on French first, since Sean takes Spanish, and wait till he gets home to start on Government.” She slants a look at me. “If that’s what you really want to talk about?”

  I blink. “What do you mean?”

  Grinning, she lifts a shoulder. “Last year, when we first moved to Jewel, M used to come over to ‘tutor’ us.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “But we mostly used the time to answer all her questions about Nuath and Martian traditions and politics and stuff. You obviously know all that, but I thought you might have questions about other stuff, maybe about people at school? Of course, if you’d rather study…”

  “No!” Because there’s something I do want to ask before Sean gets home. “I mean, I’m actually okay on the French curriculum. Not so much on the Government stuff, but—”

  I break off. Then, in a rush, “Molly, I’ve been wondering. Sean acts like it’s no big deal that the Sovereign—M—is back together with Rigel. Like it doesn’t bother him. But it seems like it would have to.”

  Molly’s grin disappears and she suddenly looks more serious than I’ve ever seen her. “It does. I know it does. Maybe not as much as it used to, and he’s gotten better at hiding it lately, but…yeah. When it does show, I never let on I notice. Because he really doesn�
�t have a choice, you know? And he’s trying so hard…”

  “Are you upset about it? For his sake, I mean. Plus…other reasons, the ones everyone’s been talking about.”

  “I was last year, when we first got here. Nobody told us in advance—told Sean—that M was dating anyone, so it was kind of a shock when we found out. He…didn’t take it very well, especially at first. Gave Rigel a really hard time. The two of them nearly got in a fight at least once. But that was before Uncle Allister spilled the beans about the whole Consort thing at Rigel’s birthday party.”

  “Allister Adair?” I couldn’t imagine him being that careless. “In front of Duchas? Or was it just—?”

  “Oh, no, he waited until they were all gone, but it was still a huge thing to spring on M and Rigel, that she was expected to pair up with Sean instead. Mum was really ticked at Uncle Allister for his timing, and being so tactless. Now I think of it, he was probably lucky M and Rigel didn’t accidentally hurt him, as upset as they were.”

  “Hurt him? What do you mean? How?”

  “Oh, um…” Like I have with Sean a couple of times, I get the impression she said more than she intended. “I just meant—”

  She’s interrupted by Sean’s voice, from the back of the house. “Anyone home?”

  “In here,” Molly calls back, looking relieved.

  A moment later he ambles in, his copper hair windblown. The look suits him. When he sees me, he freezes for a second.

  “Oh, um, hey.” He smiles at me but his ears go a shade pinker than they were.

  “Kira just got here a couple minutes ago,” Molly tells him. “We haven’t started on any school stuff yet.”

  He pulls the wooden desk chair over and sits facing both of us. “Good, because I, um, wanted to talk about something else before Mum and Dad get back. Kira, on Sunday you almost made it sound like you thought we’d be better off without the monarchy. Is that what you really meant?”

  Molly’s eyebrows go up, her gray eyes snapping back to me. I try to choose my words carefully, determined not to mess up such a perfect opportunity. If I can open their eyes, get them to see past their preconceptions, they both could be a huge help in changing other people’s minds.

  “I, ah, just meant that we owe it to ourselves to explore all the options before assuming the way we’ve always done things is automatically the best way. You have to have noticed none of the more advanced Earth civilizations still have hereditary rulers. There’s a reason. Democracy, with leaders popularly elected by the people, almost always makes a country more stable and prosperous.”

  To my surprise, Molly chuckles. “Wow, you sound just like M. When we first explained about the Nuathan monarchy last year, she thought it sounded impossibly archaic. Couldn’t believe a society as advanced as ours still had one. We had a time convincing her the Sovereigns had done a great job for centuries, before Faxon came along.”

  “But did they, really?” I counter. “We were obviously better off under Leontine than we were under Faxon, but a lot of people must have been dissatisfied with the status quo even then. Otherwise, why would they have started following Faxon in the first place?”

  “Because he fed them lies.” Sean’s tone is uncompromising. “He did everything he could to stir up dissension by telling people they were being denied their rights by the Royals. Which they weren’t. Everyone already had a voice in our government, through the Eodain. And no one ever went without food or shelter or any other real necessities under the Sovereigns.”

  Luckily, I have a Populist talking point for exactly this. “Maybe not necessities, but you can’t pretend those in the lower fines enjoyed the same luxuries those in the Royal and Science fines did.”

  “You’re sounding like M again.” Molly’s grin widens. “Remember, Sean, at that dinner with all the Royals on the Quintessence, when we were on our way to Mars?”

  “Yeah, but Dad set her straight.”

  I look from one of them to the other. “What do you mean? The Sovereign herself suggested—?”

  “She wasn’t Sovereign yet, but yeah,” Molly confirms. “Honestly, if she weren’t, well, who she is, she might have joined the Anti-Royals herself. Before they started getting violent, anyway. You should have seen how upset she was when those protesters in Bailerealta were hauled off.”

  “Protesters?” I don’t remember that from the news feeds. “Populist protesters, you mean? The Populists have never been violent.”

  Sean huffs out a breath. “Those weren’t violent, no. They just shouted anti-Royal stuff from the back of the crowd while she was trying to give a speech. But others are, like that guy they sent to kill her a few weeks back.”

  I shake my head, frowning. “That can’t have been a real Populist. He was probably some Faxon supporter who claimed to be a Populists after he was caught. Maybe even a rival Royal. I’ve read the whole Populist platform and it doesn’t condone any kind of violence.”

  “Of course they don’t condone it publicly,” Sean says patiently, like I’m an ignorant child. “That doesn’t mean they’re above using it covertly, if they think it’s the quickest way to achieve their ends. Every movement has its radicals. The Anti-Royals seem to have more than most.”

  His piercing look implies he suspects I might be one of those.

  “I’m no radical,” I quickly—and truthfully—assure him. “I’d never want M physically harmed. Especially if it’s true that she holds views I agree with.” My expression must show I doubt that, because Sean leans toward me earnestly.

  “Kira, you have to believe M only wants what’s best for our people. She would never have agreed to become Sovereign in the first place if the Council hadn’t convinced her Nuath could end up in a civil war if she didn’t. Different factions were already starting to form, to fill the power vacuum created when Faxon was ousted.”

  “He’s right,” Molly chimes in. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard her complain about all the pomp and ceremony and privileges that go with being Sovereign. She even hated wearing all those gorgeous clothes she got to wear in Nuath—said they were impractical and pretentious.”

  By now I’m not sure what to believe. “Then why did she work so hard to get Acclaimed? Why didn’t she try to hand over leadership to someone like Crevan Erc, if everything you’re telling me is true? He’s the one most in line with what you claim she believes.”

  Sean and Molly exchange a glance, then Molly gives a little shrug. “I guess it’s not really a secret anymore, is it?”

  “That part is, I think,” he replies just as cryptically, a crease between his brows as he looks at his sister.

  “I don’t see why,” she argues. “There can’t have been any more, um, hiccups, or we’d have heard about it.”

  “Hiccups?” I echo, looking back and forth between them. “Like that kiss caught on camera that nearly derailed her Acclamation?”

  Sean flicks a glance at me. “No, nothing like that.” Then, to Molly, “If the media found out and publicized the whole story, it could still cause panic in Nuath.”

  “I won’t tell the Nuathan media anything. I don’t even know how to contact them. What’s this big secret?” I demand.

  Sean doesn’t reply, still frowning thoughtfully at his sister. Too curious to think better of it, I reach over and touch his forearm to get his attention.

  It definitely works. Even as I snatch my hand back, he whips his head around to stare at me. Because that was no regular taghal ardus! Not only wasn’t it our first touch, this zing was noticeably stronger than the last one was.

  “The, um, reason M needed to get Acclaimed when she did,” Sean says. Though he’s clearly trying to hide his instinctive reaction from Molly, her interested gaze flicks back and forth between us.

  “I still think we should tell her,” she says, getting to her feet. “But you’ll have to do all the explaining yourself, Sean, because I just remembered I need to make some phone calls. Cheerleading stuff.” With a bright smile, she hurri
es out of the room, leaving Sean and me alone.

  “So, are you going to tell me?” I prompt, determined not to let him see how freaked out I was by that touch.

  He looks at me warily. “Don’t you think we’d better talk about that, er, other thing while Molly’s busy?”

  I can feel my cheeks warming. I’m tempted to say, “What other thing?” but that would be cowardly. “I guess you felt it in the gym, too?”

  “Yeah. I tried to convince myself I imagined it, but—”

  “So did I. Or at least that it was no more than that first touch thing people our age sometimes get. Just now, though…”

  He looks more uncomfortable than ever. “Definitely different. The, um, only other person who’s ever given me a jolt like that is M.”

  “The Sovereign? Oh, because you and she were supposed to—?”

  “That’s what I assumed. In fact, I sort of expected it the first time we touched, though she obviously didn’t.”

  No reason she would, if she didn’t know anything about the Consort tradition yet.

  “She felt it, too,” he continues, “but because of Rigel she tried to pretend she didn’t. When she finally did admit it, she claimed what she got from him was way stronger. I didn’t believe her for a long time, but…I guess it was true. Especially since lately—since getting back to Jewel, I mean—whatever she and I had keeps getting weaker. Probably because she’s back with Rigel.”

  I regard him uncertainly. “So…is this some Royal thing?” I’d wondered, on Sunday.

  “No, I don’t think so. At least, I’ve never felt it off any Royal except M, and I’ve been around lots of Royals.”

  “Royal girls your age?”

  “Well, no,” he admits. “But it’s not like you have any Royal blood…do you?”

  I shake my head. “My parents are pure Ag for at least four generations, maybe longer. Are…are you sure we didn’t imagine it?”

  “Let’s find out.” With a half-daring, half-apprehensive grin, he reaches across and puts his hand over mine.

 

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