She doesn’t say anything.
“Isn’t it funny,” I continue, “how we could get our crap together as soon as the Martians left? The superior ones? The ‘genetically preferred’? You tell me Mars failed, Norah, but Earth is succeeding for the first time in generations.”
Norah flashes a vulpine grin. “Succeeding, are we? Yes, you’re correct. The environment is recovering. Earth’s governments have made huge strides in making sure our climate recovers from decades of neglect. And yes, there aren’t any major military conflicts occurring on Earth. But how many of its citizens are living in dictatorships disguised as democracies? How many people living on Earth are so badly oppressed by their governments that they’re worried they’ll be murdered if they put one toe out of line?”
“I … well,” I stutter
Norah smells blood, and she knows I know it. She’s got an argument locked and loaded. In her lawyerly way, she interrupts my stammering and continues. “You talk about the Martians as if they’re the only group making their subordinates suffer. Wouldn’t you agree Earth’s leaders have done the exact same thing to you? To everyone else living in poverty or didn’t have the luxury of being born with a low number? Their decades of blind faith in the Martians helped create a worldwide suffering they never had to be a part of. For goodness sake, the current vice president hasn’t effectively run the Earth States since the day he took office.”
Oh, wow. I’d forgotten that Vice President Williams was even alive.
“And how many of Earth’s citizens would you say are free?” Norah continues. “How many of the mentally ill were tossed to the side? The physically impaired? Perhaps it was done in the name of Mars. Perhaps it was explained to us that we couldn’t help these people because we had to help Mars succeed. But you’re too smart for that, Mav. Society has been looking for a reason to discard these people for a long time. You should know. You’re one of them.”
It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut. Not the initial strike of a punch, though. I ache in the middle of who I am the way I ached after my fight that got me kicked out of school. I’d gone into such a blind rage that I don’t remember being hit. But God, I hurt for days afterward.
“The Martians made bad choices,” Norah continues, “but they didn’t abandon each other. Every USEM citizen boarded those ships.”
“Oh please,” I sneer. “They’re bargaining chips. If the politicians didn’t think the citizens could be used to manipulate our feelings down here, they would have abandoned them on Mars. You know I’m right.”
Norah grabs hold of her hair with both hands and shakes her head violently. “I am not here to try and convince you of why they should come back. All I can tell you is I can’t let those people starve to death because of one man’s insistence that they don’t matter.”
When she looks back up, there are tears in her eyes. Real tears. I’ve seen my share of fake ones, and I don’t think Norah is so good at manipulating the emotions of others that she could fool me.
“Yes, I lied about what was going on with Mars, but can you blame me?” she croaks. “The goal of your mission is still the same. If Greenstreet is elected VP, everyone on those five ships will die. With him out of the picture, we can find a diplomatic solution to this stalemate. I don’t know what the outcome will be, but it will be better than mass murder.”
We stare at each other for a long time. I’m honestly at a loss for words.
“We’re screwed no matter what we do,” I finally say.
Norah’s regained her composure and shrugs dismissively. “Hasn’t that always been the case?”
“Maybe, but none of it has ever depended on me making a decision.”
“And it still doesn’t, Maverick. The Red Hand is going through with our plan. You knowing more about the situation doesn’t matter.”
“So I don’t matter? Thanks for that.”
“You’re undeniably helpful, Maverick. We would be set back terribly without you as part of the team. And I mean it wholeheartedly when I say I’d never forgive myself for ordering you killed. But I’d do it if it meant the Martians came home.”
Good old Norah. Glad to know the threats of death will never end.
“Do Esau and Jacob know what’s actually going on?”
“No. Only I know the real reason any of this is happening.”
I raise my eyebrows at her and cross my arms. “Seriously? You’re lying to everyone about this?”
She matches my pose. “Would you do it differently?”
Touché.
“So what now?” I ask.
“Now, you get some sleep so you’ll be ready for your interview on the news tomorrow. You still have a job to do, Martians or no Martians.”
Chapter 4
I stare at my reflection in the mirror of the small bathroom the public radio office is letting me use to freshen up. Norah insisted that I wear something nice this morning.
“Why?” I had asked. “It’s radio. No one is going to see me.”
She’d pointed a finger in my face and scowled. “Rule number one. Someone will always see you. If it isn’t a live audience, it’s the people standing in the lobby of your building, the cab driver, the barista, and the receptionist. Always dress like you’re about to be inaugurated President of the United States of Earth and Mars. Besides, these things always turn into video. Just watch.”
“Well Norah, you were right,” I say to myself now. “They want video.”
Static rustles in my year, then Norah’s voice blares into my eardrum. “All right, Maverick. We’re settled in. I’ll be watching you as you interview from across the street as long as they keep the window open. Esau’s set up a high-power microphone that should pick up the entire conversation, regardless of whether I can see you or not. You won’t have a need to talk to me directly because I can hear everything.
“Just a reminder, they may do a bug sweep on you. Your earpiece is just a miniature radio antenna and a speaker. It’s so low tech they won’t be looking for it. You look lovely, by the way. I saw you as you walked in the building.”
“Thank you,” I say. I look down at my dress. It’s blue, really professional.
An aide pops her head in. Her frizzy hair and big glasses make her look perpetually surprised. “Ms. Martinique, are you ready for your interview?”
“Yes.” I smooth out the fabric around my waist. I hate the way it’s clinging to my stomach and hips.
I turn and follow the aide down a series of hallways until we walk into a room that’s been turned into a makeshift recording studio. Special lighting gives the space a soft glow. VR cameras are positioned around the room, pointing at two chairs facing each other. It’s weird to me that those tiny, bulbous machines will take my interview and turn it into an experience where others can feel like they’re in the room with me.
A woman sits in one of the chairs and stands to greet me as I walk in. She has beautiful brown skin, big eyes, and gorgeously volumized hair. She walks in five-inch heels like she was born in them, but that’s when I realize how small she is. Even in those stilts, she’s shorter than me.
“Ms. Martinique, I’m Lila Subramani. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine. I see I’ve been upgraded.” I motion to the room around me.
Lila smiles. It’s disarming. I bet it’s part of why she became a journalist. “A great story deserves footage, and you’ve got a great story. We’ll air the interview live on the radio and release the video on VR later today. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. Be prepared for the unexpected, that’s my motto.” I cringe at how cheesy it sounds. Thank God Lila’s back is turned so she doesn’t see my face contort.
Lila turns back around with a wide smile on her face. “Wonderful. Please, have a seat and we’ll get started.”
I’m nervous about speaking with her now. She seems so easy to talk to. If I’m not careful, I could say too much. Not that Norah won’t be screaming i
n my ear the second I say anything off script.
The door to our room opens, and the big-haired aide that escorted me in pops her head through.
“Uh, Ms. Subramani, someone’s here to see you.”
Lila’s reporter façade cracks a bit, letting the teensiest bit of irritation slip through. “It’ll have to wait, Summer. Thank you.”
“I don’t mean to be obnoxious about this, but you’re going to want to come out here.”
Lila looks down and bites her lower lip, then looks back up at me. “Would you excuse me, Ms. Martinique?”
“Of course.”
Lila exits the room professionally, but with each click of her heels, I know what she must be thinking …
I.
Hate.
Sum-
mer.
How.
In.
God’s.
Name.
Is.
She.
So.
Use-
less.
As I sit there waiting, Norah’s voice pops into my ear again.
“The mic is working. Everything is coming in beautifully. Scratch your nose and pull on your ear if you can hear me.”
I scratch my nose with my middle finger and pull on my earlobe.
“I saw that.”
The door opens behind me. I turn, expecting to see Lila. Instead, to my horror, I see Gwen Watson—Ostrich Lady herself.
Chapter 5
Bet you didn’t expect to see me so soon, now did ya?” Gwen asks.
She’s dressed all in white this morning with a giant fur wrapped around her shoulders.
I stand up and walk toward her, trying to act casual. “Oh my God, Gwen! How are you? What are you doing here?”
“Gwen? Gwen Watson? What the hell is she doing there?” Norah squawks in my ear. Esau mumbles something in response to her question. “Damn it, Esau, it’s your job to know these things!”
Gwen walks up and kisses me on the cheek like we’ve known each other for years. “As soon as I heard about the Foundation’s incredibly generous gift,” she says, “I said to myself, ‘Damned if my name isn’t Gwen Watson, that has Maverick written all over it.’ Whataya know, I was right. I just had to be the one to interview you. Lila’s a friend, so she agreed.”
“Did she know you were coming?”
Gwen smiles. “What does that matter? What matters is you and I are gonna have a talk. Just the two of us.”
Damn. “I can’t wait. This day just keeps getting better and better.”
Gwen takes off her fur and sets it on a nearby table. “Let me shut this window over here before we get started. Too much glare on your face. We don’t want you looking shiny and sweaty, now do we?”
Of course you want to shut the window, you witch. “Thanks, Gwen.”
“Oh, sweetie, don’t mention it. Girls have gotta look out for one another.” She sits down and shoots me an odd look. Is that mischief on her face? Is she trying to be coy? “Let’s just rip right into this, okay?”
“Sounds great to me,” I lie.
“Ask her where this is airing,” Norah barks.
“Is this interview still airing with NPR?” I ask. “Because that was the agreement. We haven’t agreed to anything with your network. We may choose not to.”
Gwen’s face sours a little. “Yes, NPR’s still airing. I’m a guest reporter.”
“Excellent, I just wanted to make sure I understood. Since this is Foundation work, we strive to give local and public radio first call on these kinds of things. I’m sure you understand.”
Gwen’s demeanor softens. “Honey, I get it. These kinds of things always have hoops and conditions. It’s no problem.”
“Oh, good. I was a little confused with the reporter change up.”
“Of course, I understand.”
“Nice spin,” Norah says.
“Now, I’m gonna start the camera with this,” Gwen says, showing me a small plastic remote in her hand. “Five seconds later, we’re rollin’ live. No do-overs. Ready, sweetheart?”
“She’s trying to unnerve you. But don’t worry, I have you covered.”
“Yes, I’m ready,” I lie again.
“All right then. Let’s roll.” She waves her hand toward the unmanned camera, and a red light begins to blink. I square my shoulders and put on a pleasant face.
Five seconds later, Gwen starts talking.
“Live in Unity City, this is NPR News. I’m special reporter, Gwen Watson. In the last week, the nation has been following the tragic passing of Don Merkatz, founder and CEO of Amrian Enterprises.”
Whoa, where did her accent go? Her vowels still have a slight twang, but she went from Southern belle to professional reporter in the blink of an eye.
Gwen continues. “Amrian’s inventions and enhancements to the field of virtual reality took civilization to a new level, allowing those living on Mars and Earth a way to communicate and interact. While Don’s passing is indeed a sobering reminder of how even the great must one day pass on, his legacy lives not only in the technology Amrian continues to create but in the way his estate and investments give back to society.
“This morning, I have with me Maverick Martinique, a representative of the Amrian Foundation and one of the few people who has an insider’s look on how this notoriously tight-lipped trust makes its decisions.”
Up until now, Gwen’s been looking right at one of the cameras. Now she turns to me.
“Maverick, welcome to the program.”
Here we go. “Thanks for having me.”
“We’ll get to the inner workings of the foundation here in a minute, but I want you to talk about the enormous donation Amrian Enterprises just made to Unity City—more than one hundred tractor-trailers of food and clothing.”
I interrupt. “One hundred in Unity City, yes, but just over one thousand in total. Every major city in the Earth States should be receiving their shipments in the coming days.”
“That’s amazing,” Gwen says with what is obviously faked awe. “Why such a large donation now, so soon after Don Merkatz’s death?”
Norah radios in. “It wasn’t Enterprises. It was the Foundation. Correct her.”
“Well first, just to make sure there’s no confusion, Amrian Enterprises didn’t make the donation. The Amrian Foundation did. It seems like a small distinction, but it’s an important one.”
“Explain to our listeners why.”
Ah, hell.
“Repeat after me exactly,” Norah says.
“Well, Amrian Enterprises is the actual business everyone is familiar with. It isn’t responsible for or in charge of dispersing charitable donations. The Amrian Foundation, however, is a separate entity that acts independently from Amrian Enterprises. It’s run by a separate board who—in conjunction with Mr. Merkatz—make decisions on which 501(c)(3) organizations receive funds from the foundation.”
Oh God, I hope I didn’t mess that up. I don’t understand half of it.
It looks like I did okay because Gwen moves on. Before she does, she reaches inside her pocket and then retreats her empty hand. “Thanks for the clarification. Tell us about the donation.”
“She’s on to you,” Norah warns. “She’s blocking transmissions.”
I start regurgitating the lines we’ve rehearsed. “The donation was something Mr. Merkatz had been wanting to do for some time. He had the money and the ability, but he couldn’t get board consensus to pull it off.”
“I don’t know if she’ll think to cut radio, but be ready just in case.”
“It takes a lot of money to purchase the resources needed to do something on that scale.”
“Damn that woman. Damn her to hell.”
“But after his death, the board felt like it would be an excellent way to commemorate his legacy.”
Gwen nods in agreement, but her face is weird again. “Of course. And it’s my understanding that Senator Greenstreet aided in the handout?”
“Okay, say
this …”
I repeat after Norah. “Yes, Senator Greenstreet contributes to the Foundation and was helpful in coordinating the deliveries. He shared Don’s vision for making a donation of this size and was supportive of remembering Don in this way.”
“Beautiful. You’re doing great.”
Gwen smiles. “Well, I’m sure everyone receiving these resources is extremely grateful.”
I mirror her smile. “We just want to help those who may be in need.”
Then Gwen’s face sets like stone. She adjusts in her chair, crosses her arms and legs, stares me down, and reaches inside her jacket pocket again.
“Let’s talk a little bit more about that. According to a report I pulled, you and the Amrian Foundation depleted the resources for all the Earth States by a significant amount. So, when I go to the grocery store next week, there won’t be nearly as much on the shelves because it’s all been donated. Did you not consider that you were putting others in a tenuous situation?”
I wait for Norah to pipe in. Nothing.
Oh no.
Chapter 6
I can’t be silent any longer, so I jump in with both feet. “We understood this might inconvenience some people—”
“Inconvenience?” Gwen chides. “This is food and water we’re talking about. Not concert tickets or a long wait at a government office.”
A wave of frustration runs through my body, but I have to stay professional. “I would agree. Food and water are more than simple conveniences. Which is why we made the donation.”
Gwen’s tone is indignant. “You just contradicted—”
“Ms. Watson, please let me finish.”
Gwen recoils, and I pounce before she can say another word.
“I understand that individuals with low numbers may be frustrated that what they had planned on purchasing next month is now in the hands of those with high numbers. But they can manage. They still have food, clothing, water, toilet paper, tampons, condoms, and medicine left over from last month. The people benefiting from yesterday’s donation don’t. If they have enough money for food and can pay their rent most months, they’re doing well. The truth is that most of the people living in cities across the Earth States are suffering. This donation is trying to bring relief.”
Betrayed: Episode Three of the Sister Planets Series Page 2