Defying Mars (Saving Mars Series-2) (2 page)

There. I’ve said it.

I’m worried, Pavel. I’m afraid that Mars Colonial will argue for waiting two Terran years for any kind of rescue. But in that time—an entire Mars annum—how much might happen? I am sure each day he spends in the body of someone else is a kind of torture for my brother. And if MCC argues for waiting an annum, what is to stop them arguing we should wait two? Or three?

I have to convince MCC that I’m right. That the raiders we left behind deserve nothing less than an immediate rescue. I don’t know how we’ll find a crew. I don’t know if the
Galleon
has it in her to make the journey.

But I know I must plead my brother’s case. And Harpreet’s. And my captain’s. They don’t deserve to be left behind. I won’t let that happen.

Tell my brother I love him.

I miss you.

Your friend,

Jessamyn Jaarda

2

I’LL STAND BY YOU

Sitting alone in her quarters the next day, Jessamyn frowned, imagining the uproar her request to rescue her brother would produce. She felt sure she could find a few allies—a few who believed, as she did, that Mars Colonial owed it to the Mars Raiders to make the attempt to rescue them. But she felt equally certain she would run into many who would say the rescue was too dangerous. That the raiders had volunteered in full knowledge the trip might end as it had—in captivity or death upon Earth.

If she’d been left behind, Jess wouldn’t have expected anyone to come and find her. She’d accepted the risk and been willing to remain or die upon Earth if it meant saving Mars. But she’d left Earth with an oath upon her lips: a promise to return for her brother. It had been a fool’s vow.

She was no Harpreet, to sway others to attempt impracticable things, but she had to persuade Mars Colonial, and quickly, before Earth and Mars drifted too far apart. The two planets could be imagined as runners chasing laps around the Sun. Earth ran on the inside track, giving it an advantage when it came to speeding about the Sun in only 365 days. Mars was stuck on an outside track, and the Red Planet’s journey about the solar system took 686 Terran days.

When the original crews of the
Red Galleon
and
Red Dawn
had departed Mars, Earth had lagged behind the Red Planet. Now, Earth was again catching up to Mars. Soon she would zip past. If Jessamyn wanted to take the
Galleon
from Mars back to Earth, she would have to depart immediately after her arrival home. For every day Jess spent on Mars, Earth would drift ahead in the lap around the Sun. Wait five days? Earth would surge forward millions of kilometers relative to Mars. Wait thirty days? Jess would never be able to catch Earth before running out of fuel or oxygen. She hadn’t calculated which one of these would kill her first. She only knew she didn’t have the weeks or months Mars Colonial Command would want to spend debating whether a rescue mission should be allowed to proceed.

If MCC agreed to the rescue, they would probably insist upon waiting the annum until Earth and Mars were once more at their closest positions to one another. But thinking about the extended wait made Jess feel as though all the oxygen in the ship had been sucked out. Too many things could go wrong in so long a time. Ethan, Harpreet, and Kipper could all be dead by then. No. If she were to attempt the rescue, it had to be as soon as she touched down, while Earth was still within reach.

And so Jess spent long hours running calculations to determine if she could make it back to Earth. Many times, she found herself wishing for her brother’s presence at her side. She would have welcomed his frown and quiet, “I believe you neglected to take into consideration the effect of this minute detail upon this other even more ponderously minute detail.”

Aphrodite and Poseidon
, she missed him.

What it came down to was her uncertainty as to whether the ship could handle the more violent launch required to chase after a fleeing Earth. Was it even possible to load the ship with enough fuel to make such a launch? Jessamyn’s calculations were inconclusive. But Crusty would know what the ship could or could not handle.

As if in response to her musings, Crusty’s voice echoed through the ship’s comm system. “Mornin’ rations,” he called.

“On my way,” replied Jessamyn.

The twice-daily rations provided both crew members with the opportunity for conversation. However, Crusty’s reserved manner and Jessamyn’s grim mood meant that more often than not, meals passed in complete silence between the two. Today, the mechanic seemed to be in a conversational mood.

“Sure miss the aged bars,” he sighed, contemplating the ration before him.

Jess’s mouth curved into half a smile. The flavor of the Terran-sourced bars was far more pronounced before it had a chance to age and mellow.

“There’s something to be said for a change,” she said. In truth, she didn’t mind the intensity of the flavor. It reminded her of the myriad foods she’d sampled upon Earth the night she’d pretended to be a first-body Terran—the night she’d met Pavel. A shiver ran through her, not unpleasant, at the memory.

“Well, the two of us conversing,” said Crusty, “I reckon that’s change.” He grinned and raised his ration as if in a salute to his companion.

Jess returned a small smile and wondered how to best take advantage of Crusty’s loquacious mood. Harpreet would have told her to try honesty.

She took in a slow breath. “Crusty, I’ve been thinking. I want to take part in a rescue mission to bring back the crew we left behind,” she said. “And I need some help determining whether it would be possible to do that right away.”

Crusty’s eyebrows rose slowly. “You mean, right away this annum?”

Jessamyn nodded. “Before Earth gets so far away that we can’t catch her.” She licked her lower lip, noting the cracked spots that indicated she was a full water ration behind. Forgetting to drink was careless. She couldn’t afford to be careless—not with the plans she was hatching.

Crusty leaned back in his chair, sighing noisily. “Kid, I’m sure you’ve spent some time on this already. But I’m tellin’ you it ain’t gonna happen. I can give you a list a kilometer long as to why immediate return would be a bad idea.”

Jessamyn felt a lump thickening her throat. “I don’t care if it’s a bad idea,” she retorted. “I need to know if it’s a
possible
idea.”

Crusty stood and crossed to examine his plants. He’d talked Brian Wallace out of an orchid. Jess had no idea how Crusty planned to obtain water to keep the decorative plant alive once they got back to Mars. She suspected he was going short on his own water ration to hydrate the exotic bloom at present. His lips looked a lot worse than hers felt.

He cleared his throat. “Sure, kid, I can tell you what you want to hear. Anything’s possible, ain’t it? But you ain’t gonna get permission on this one, so why torment yourself with possibles and impossibles?”

“But I
have
to get permission!” Jess stood, placing her hands on her hips.

Crusty shrugged. “They might send out a rescue next annum.”

Her heart beat faster at the unwelcome thought and she felt her face flushing with anger. “My brother was sentenced to re-bodying inside a geriatric body with
limbs
missing!” she said. “He can’t wait two Earth-years. He could be dead by then.”

“Hmmph,” grunted the mechanic, his eyes fixed upon the orchid.

“What do you mean,
hmmph
?” demanded Jess. “You know I’m right.
Ares
, Crusty, we’re their only hope. You’re talking about waiting an entire Mars orbit—an
annum
—and I’m telling you they’ll be dead by then. Pavel said the conditions in the mines—” Jessamyn stopped, unable to continue without wasting water. Like a good Marsian, she held back her tears.

“Listen, kid. My vote is we make the attempt,” said Crusty. “I’ll be volunteering to go myself. Those good folks don’t deserve to be stuck on a planet of filthy body-swappers.”

Jessamyn swallowed, eyes upon the rations table before her. “And you see I’m right, don’t you? That they can’t wait? If we let another twenty-four months go past before we return for them, who knows what will happen?”

“Jess, the rescue only works if the ship can get you there. I been workin’ on a list of everything that needs repair.” He shook his head. “It’s a long list. Even if I start today. Some stuff I can’t do ‘til we’re planet-side. And that ain’t your biggest obstacle. Not by a long shot.”

“So what is, then?”

“It’s you, kid. You’re what, less than ten annums old?”

“I’m almost nine,” Jess said, defensively. “That’s seventeen in Terran years. I’m an adult.”

Crusty laughed. “Kid, I’d put my life in your hands, no questions asked, but ain’t no one back home gonna see you as an adult. They take one look at you without so much as your First Wrinkle and they’ll see a hotheaded teenager. You think they’re gonna let you risk Mars’s last space-worthy ship?” He shook his head.

Jess felt herself flushing again. “I’m a Mars Raider.
Hades and Aphrodite!
If anyone’s qualified to make a recommendation, it’s me.”

“Sorry kid. Just tellin’ you how I see it.”

“Well, you’re wrong!” With that, Jessamyn stormed out of the rations room.

She’d expected to find an ally in Crusty. But if he wasn’t with her on this, what chance did she stand, really? How could she hope to persuade Mei Lo and the rest of MCC?

I’ll find a way,
she thought.
There’s got to be a way.

She paced up and down the narrow hall linking the forward and aft portions of the ship, passing the observation deck repeatedly. Once a place of calm and wonder, it was now a location she studiously avoided. Crusty had made a point of bringing her there after their launch to let her know he’d repaired the ugly scar which had caused the oxygen leak on their outbound journey. She’d thanked him but hadn’t returned after that first visit. The ache for her brother’s presence crescendoed in the silent room such that she saw neither stars, nor beauty, but only loss.

Turning one last time, she came to rest before her quarters and pounded the hatch opening. It was time to compose a letter to the Secretary General, pleading her case.

It took her some time to find the perfect words, but when she’d finished, Jessamyn felt as though she’d shed a great burden. Mei Lo trusted Jessamyn’s judgment. The Secretary would surely see the sense in returning to reclaim one of Mars’s brightest minds. Jess felt a small smile forming. She felt ebullient.

In fact, she felt magnanimous. She shouldn’t have shouted at Crusty. Shouldn’t have stormed out of the room. She owed him an apology.

It took her some time to locate the mechanic. Suiting up and venturing below decks, she found him fussing with fuel lines.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your work,” she said on their comm channel. “But I wanted to say I’m sorry I shouted at you. I want to apologize for my behavior. It was … childish.”

The mechanic grunted, made a final adjustment, and lifted the visor protecting his eyes. “Don’t fret yourself, kid,” replied Crusty. “No offense taken for the heated words. You’re a lot like your ma. I used to add a dose of coolant to anything she said.”

She ignored the unwelcome comparison to her mother. “Anything wrong down here?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” replied Crusty. “Got to thinking about my list of repairs. Might as well start in on it, I figured. Work my way up from the ship’s belly.”

Jess nodded solemnly, containing her eager approval.

“Time for a rest now, I reckon,” Crusty continued. “Must be about breakfast by now. Or dinner. Hard to tell ‘em apart with no sun rising and setting each day.”

The pair made their way back to the rations room, where Crusty walked straight to his potted plants.

“How’s your orchid doing?” she asked, determined to prove herself his friend.

“Hmmph,” he grunted. “Reckon it misses Wallace.”

Jess smiled, uncertain if Crusty was joking or serious. Beside the flower sat a small algae pot from her mother’s household algae-pot program. Jess felt a rush of homesickness. Reaching out to touch the pot that held the small green plant, she asked, “And how’s the algae?”

The question elicited another grunt. “It’ll survive.”

Jess stared at the emerald growth, the tiny leaves moist and fragile in appearance.

“Made a slight change to the feed,” murmured Crusty. “Don’t know if your ma’ll be happy or start throwin’ stuff at me.”

Jess waited for Crusty to elaborate. When he remained silent, she prodded. “What do you mean ‘a slight change’?”

“Came out of a conversation I had with Wallace. I got to thinking about the gastro-intestinal die-off that made early settlers on Mars Colonial get sick. Got to thinking it maybe had to do with the low count of probiotics on the plant leaves. They was growin’ ‘em pretty sterile back then.” Crusty shrugged. “So I asked Wallace to harvest me some of whatever he had growin’ on his kale and cabbage out in the greenhouse and we inoculated the algae with a nice dose.”

“Huh,” said Jessamyn, nodding. It sounded like a good idea, but she wasn’t sure how her mom would respond, either.

“Seems to have survived,” said Crusty. “What don’t kill you makes you stronger, they say.”

The smile on Jessamyn’s lips faded, and she felt the knife-twist pain of losing Ethan. No, it had not killed her, the loss of her brother. But she didn’t think it had made her stronger. She felt brittle as factory glass when she thought of Ethan.
That is not a sensation you can afford to indulge
, she told herself. She would not be brittle. She would be strong. If she wanted to save her brother, she had to be.

“I sent a letter to Mei Lo,” Jess said aloud.

“Did you now?” asked Crusty. “’Bout your little rescue plan?”

Jess nodded. “I think she’ll listen to me. She’ll want my brother to finish what he started, don’t you think?”

Crusty scratched his chin. “Reckon that might be your best line of argument, right there. The Secretary and everyone else on the board knows that was a job only Ethan could manage.”