Blue Hearts of Mars (18 page)

“Retta!” Dad said, rushing to me as I closed the door to our apartment behind me. “Hemingway said he’d send for me when you were ready to come home. What are you doing here?”

I shrugged, giving him a half-hearted hug. I really needed a big hug. But I was terrible at asking. “I left in a hurry.”

“What happened?”

Marta came out of her room and stared at me anxiously. There were dark circles under her eyes and she seemed tired. She looked as terrible as I felt.

“It’s too complicated,” I said, my eyes flicking toward Marta then back to my dad. “I just want to clean up and change into different clothes, and, maybe, burn this dress?”

He nodded. “Of course. Of course.” Then he took me by the shoulders, stared into my face, told me how worried he’d been, how thankful he was that I was all right, and that kind of thing.

I smiled reluctantly. “Thanks, Dad.”

As I went to my room, Marta clutched my hand a moment and smiled as I passed her. I grinned at her appreciatively.

*****

Mei punched me in the arm when I told her what happened Saturday night.

And then she slapped my cheek when I told her about Sunday and kissing Hemingway.

“But what are you going to do?” she asked.

“No idea,” I said, rubbing my cheek gingerly. She was such a freak sometimes.

“You’re going to just let him stay with that android? It’s only because it’s easier. You know? You’re right about that. You can’t just let that happen.”

“I didn’t think you cared. You believe androids and humans together is wrong, I thought,” I said massaging my arm where she’d punched it.

“I did. Do. Sort of. But then we saw that heart. We’ve been lied to, Retta. I can’t just keep my head in the sand like that. I have to adjust.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. So the heart changed Mei?

We were in Craspo’s class, it was almost over, and he’d given us free time to study in groups for the upcoming final. Occasionally Craspo would look at me, and we’d have this weight in our gazes, an understanding, and I’d long to talk to him more, to see how he was doing, and what his plans were. We hadn’t spoken in a while.

But maybe I should talk to him again. I’d chickened out ever since the day I told him our hearts were the same color. I was too nervous to do anything big. Take a stand. Make loud declarations, that kind of thing, after what happened when I blew up at Hans. I’m a chicken really, when you get right down to it, when you stripped away the meat and bones—I was made of chicken feathers.

The most I dared to do was try to be with Hemingway, and that was total selfishness. Out of that deal, I gained the most. It only helped me and Hemingway. I was no hero who just did what ought to be done because it was right.

At least, that was what I was finding.

Here Mei and I held a document that, if we exposed it, could maybe save the androids from being shipped off against their wills. We both had copies. We could take them to that guy calling himself the Voice independently, so he’d believe it. We could distribute it, hand to hand, and see what kind of ruckus it made. It might change things.

But did we? No.

I hid. I tried to pretend things would stay the same forever. Like I could just keep going to school, keep being a kid, keep working at Cassini Coffee, keep hoping to reunite for real with Hemingway.

Mei was shouting in my face. “Well? Retta? Well? Wake up! Hey!”

I snapped my eyes back to her, watching over Mei’s shoulder as Craspo turned his gaze back to his desk with a shake of his head. “What?” I asked before she could hit me again.

“What. Are. You. Going. To. Do.” She enunciated each word carefully.

“About what?” I asked, leaning back to put a safe distance between us.

She still managed to swat me on the arm.

“About Hemingway,” she said, forcefully.

“Mei, there’s nothing
to
do,” I answered. “It’s extremely clear that all he wants is to be with a girl that doesn’t cause problems. I’m not that. There’d be problems for us.”

“But he said he loves you. That he wants you.” She leaned toward me, her dark eyes glittering fiercely, her lips curling back to show her white teeth.

“So? Love is as love does,” I said, thinking how wise that sounded. “It’s not even love, really, if he just walks away. It’s fear.”

I glanced at Craspo again. He was staring intently at something on his desktop Gate and one hand gripped a fistful of hair while holding up his head.

Mei slid closer to me, pulling her long hair into her right hand and draping it over a shoulder. It hung like a black veil over her chest. “You know what you should do?”

Shaking my head, I wondered skeptically if I wanted to hear this idea.

“You should tell him about the heart. And the other thing. The new colonies,” she whispered. “Tell him everything.”

“No way,” I said, gasping. “I can’t.”

“You need to.” Mei nodded as the idea picked up steam in her head. “He needs to know. They’ll send him away, Retta.”

“So? He doesn’t care about me. If he did, nothing would stop him from being with me.”

“Unless he’s really doing it to protect you.”

I tilted my head to one side, thinking about that. Was that it? So far I’d gotten into some pretty bad situations without him around. “No, it can’t be that.”

“Why not?” Mei asked, sounding affronted. She leaned back into her chair and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“I’m safer when I’m with him.”

“That’s it?” She scoffed.

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” a voice interrupted. We both looked up. It was Hans.

“None of your business,” I said.

“Did your date ever get out of the bathroom, Retta? Did you have to send someone in to rescue him? Oh wait, I almost forgot—you had no date,” he sneered, crouching down at the side of the desk Mei and I were sharing like he was about to put his arms across our shoulders in a gesture of camaraderie.

“Shut up, Hans,” Mei said, turning a wrathful expression on him. He fell backwards, not quite landing on his butt. “Get lost. I heard your date left you when she caught you making love to yourself underneath a table.”

Hans’ cheeks blazed instantly and he began sputtering denials at us.

“I don’t care one way or another, just get out of our space. No one wants to hear your excuses,” Mei said, turning back to me. Hans stood up and stomped away, muttering to himself about people spreading hurtful rumors.

I stared at Mei, mouth gaping. “Wow, Mei, nice one,” I said.

“Of course,” she answered curtly, still fuming about Hans.

I turned my head slightly to see what Craspo was doing. His hands were sliding over his desktop Gate, which he’d turned horizontal, like he was typing something up. His hair flopped around as he moved his head, his eyes fixed on whatever he was doing. I was struck again with how attractive he was.

“What are you staring at?” Mei interrupted. She followed my gaze. “Craspo? Seriously?”

“What? He’s cute,” I said, shrugging.

“And Hemingway?”

“He’s gorgeous. No comparison,” I said.

“You can’t have both.”

“This coming from the girl who went to a dance with four boys.”

“But I only danced with one at a time.”

“Minor detail,” I said.

“You know what you have to do, Retta.”

I shook my head.

“Yes, you have to. It’s in the stars. It’s why we even,” she looked around, carefully, then said in quieter tones, “It’s why we even broke into that building.”

“Everyone return to your seats,” Craspo said loudly, interrupting us. Mei jumped a little at the sudden disruption.

“You have to,” Mei mouthed at me as she walked back to her desk across the aisle from me. She’d been sitting in the seat in front of me.

“No I don’t,” I said, mouthing the words exaggeratedly to her.

“Remember, the final is on Friday,” Craspo said. He stood and went to the front corner of his desk, where he leaned casually onto it. “We’ll spend the next class before the final reviewing. So bring your brains. I can’t bring them for you.” He surveyed the class as a whole. “After that, it’ll be farewell and you’ll start your new lives as free adults. I hope you’re prepared. Class dismissed.” He grinned and waved toward the door. I heard something in his voice when he said the word
free,
a blue note, full of sorrow or regret. I stared at him.

“Let’s go,” Mei said, tugging on my arm.

“Go on without me, I need to talk to Craspo.”

“Remember what happened last time you did that?” she pointed out, not letting go of my arm.

“You say that like you’re not in control of how you behave,” I answered with a little laugh. “Really, Mei, I think you’re old enough to take care of yourself. And to not do that again. I’ll catch up to you. Don’t be a baby about it.” I gave her arm a reassuring pat. She wasn’t going to bully me into following her around like a puppy.

“Fine,” she said. “But if I end up with a set of new best friends, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She marched off, her chin in the air like a conceited prima donna.

I wove through the stream of exiting students and stopped at Craspo’s desk. He’d moved to the side closest to our desks and was rearranging some jars of soil samples from deserts on Earth and Mars. He’d used them to help illustrate the difficulty of preparing the soil for farming on Mars. Some of the soil samples also held worms, ants, and tiny microbes that would add nutrients to all the dead materials.

Craspo looked up at me, and smiled. “Retta, how goes it?”

“I need to run something by you, Dr. Craspo.”

“What is it?” He went to the front of his desk where he sat down, leaned back in his chair, and put his legs up on the desk.

I surveyed the room, turning to check behind me. Satisfied that we were alone, I kneeled down next to his desk.

“OK, I told you about the heart thing, right?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said, getting a skeptical look on his face.

“Well, that’s not all I found out. There were some other things in the . . . um, building, where I made that discovery.”

“Where
did
you make this discovery, if I might ask?”

“I’d rather not say. But it’s an authoritative source.”

“Alright, then. Go on.”

The thing was, Mei got me thinking. I needed to do something. She was right. We broke into that building, put our lives on the line, really, put our futures in danger, and then we’d done nothing with the paradigm-shattering information we’d unearthed. It was dumb to let it all come to naught.

I took a deep breath. “I found out that they’re going to settle more colonies in another solar system. The Martian government has requisitioned a hundred thousand units, new or old, to send as forerunners.” I paused dramatically, letting it sink in, studying his face. “Units. Meaning androids.” I stared at him, waiting for an appropriate response.

“You must be mistaken, Retta.” His grin looked sickly. He pulled his feet off his desk and sat up straight.

“Maybe. But I don’t think so. I found out months ago. I just didn’t know who to tell.”

“How long ago, exactly?”

“Three months or so. What should I do? Should I tell someone?”

“You’ve told me,” he said.

“But should I tell anyone else?”

“I don’t know, Retta . . . it’s quite sudden. And I don’t know if I believe it.” There was a serious frown on his face. I knew how he felt. I felt that way when I learned all of it. And I was feeling it again.

“There’s more.” His eyes narrowed as if to say,
Please, not more. Anything but more.
I went on, “On Saturday, an android accosted me. It—he, tried to force himself on me.”

Craspo gripped my hand where it rested on his desk, his eyes flashing in rage. “Are you alright? He didn’t—”

“No,” I interrupted, “No, it’s OK. I have a friend. He saved me.”

“The machine?”

I took a deep breath. It was different when androids called themselves blue hearts or machines. They didn’t say it derisively, like it was a bad thing to be a blue heart. I answered with a sigh, “Just in time, too. But I wondered, have you heard of that happening?”

Craspo rubbed both hands over his eyes and then his hair, looking stressed. “No, no, not at all. I’m so sorry, Retta. I’m ashamed, for us.”

“Don’t be. Humans have done worse.”

“It seems that something is happening. Something.” He seemed genuinely perplexed.

“I thought you could help me. Tell me what to do with the information I have.”

He looked at me, his eyes concerned, but his expression blank, as though stunned. “No, I’m sorry, but I have no idea.”

“Well, you know, now, at least. Maybe it can help you, in some way.”

He nodded. “Yes, maybe. Thank you.”