She needed her brother to wake up.
Wake up!
She flashed back to her birthday, her brother sleeping in his room with a window where the ceiling should have been. Odd details flooded over her. How she’d gone outside that day—the first time she suited up with no help because her parents had been too preoccupied with her brother’s condition. How she’d searched the grounds surrounding her house for large rocks. How she’d hurled them at her brother’s window, in full sight of her parents.
The rocks couldn’t have damaged the habitat; Marsian windows were constructed to withstand blasts from severe dust storms tossing around goodness–knew–what debris. But her father had gone outside and found her, sat down beside her. And talked to her about growing older, and how greater responsibility came with each birthday.
She’d gone back inside the hab and settled herself at the foot of her brother’s bed. Go on, Mommy, get some rest. I’ll watch Ethan. I’ll tell you if anything changes.
And then she’d been alone with her brother.
Ethan.
No response.
Ethan. Please. I’ll go visit the stupid planetary dog if you’ll just wake up. I need you, Ethan. Please. This is Jessie. I need you. Wake up.
And he had.
Now, aboard the station, Jess turned, pushing off the wall to return to the bunk room.
“I want to try something,” she murmured to Pavel.
Pavel looked up.
“I want to sit with him. Just me.”
Pavel nodded and left without a word. Zussman wasn’t in sight.
“Ethan,” said Jessamyn. “Ethan. This is Jessamyn. Mars Colonial needs you. Please. Wake up.”
Nothing happened. Jessamyn’s chin fell toward her chest. It wasn’t going to work. It had been a coincidence that her brother had awoken the last time she’d told him he was needed. Just a coincidence.
Mars Colonial was doomed.
A single tear made its way out of her eye and hovered, blurring her vision. Why couldn’t tears simply fall, already? Angrily, she brushed the tear aside. It clung to her hand for a moment before wicking up her sleeve.
Her father would die. Her mother would die. Everyone on Mars would die. The red planet would be silent once more, as it had been for millennia before the first explorers arrived, full of heady dreams.
Another tear gathered. Both eyes were full now.
How would she survive the destruction of her world?
“Ethan,” she murmured. “I can’t bear it.”
She choked back a sob.
“I can’t bear it alone, Ethan. I need you. I need you. What will I do, Eth?” She couldn’t speak now, the sobs and tears were coming too fast.
Her brother’s hand, right beside hers, twitched. His eyes opened, but they were dulled, glassy. Wiping her own eyes to be sure, Jess whispered her brother’s name once more.
“Ethan?”
He gave no indication that he had heard her.
“Ethan?”
Nothing.
And then he began to hum.
54
Budapest, Earth
Vladim Wu was enjoying himself, in spite of having been awake for thirty–one hours in a row. He had the instincts of a predator, and hunting among the satellites and stations for just the right one came to him as naturally as breathing. And it was a good deal more fun.
At last, he had them. He was sure of it. Communications signatures fairly screamed at him from one of the three space stations he’d been investigating. He had them.
Although it was the middle of the night in Budapest, Wu asked to be put through to the Chancellor, to give her the good news. Her new butler proved more stubbornly obstinate than old Zussman would have been. A few well–chosen threats later, Wu’s comm was connected to Lucca Brezhnaya.
“Madam Chancellor?” said Major Wu. “We have them.”
“You have their bones for my perusal?” asked the Chancellor, her voice thick with sleep.
“Ah, no, Madam Chancellor. I thought best to inform you prior to taking action.”
A pause. A noisy inhale.
“Of course, Major Wu. Well, you have my permission. Fire on them. Send me a feed. I want to watch. Three hundred kilometers up, is it not? That shouldn’t take long.”
Wu frowned. She evidently expected immediate satisfaction. “You will recall that the space station is traveling at a speed of seven–point–seven kilometers per second, Madam Chancellor.”
“Why should I carry in my head pointless information such as the speed of a space station?” snapped Lucca. “I have a planet to run.”
Wu cleared his throat. “Our attack will not be possible using a direct flight. An orbital attack craft has to make a few orbits to match the speed and position of the station before firing.”
Lucca remained silent.
Wu tried another example. “You must imagine yourself as trying to jump onto a very fast train.”
“I see,” said Lucca. “If I wished to jump with accuracy, first I would have to be on a very fast train myself.”
“Precisely.”
“So how long will it take?”
“We have a launch site from which we can send a fighter in less than an hour. From then, I am told our fighter can catch the station within approximately two hours. There is an issue of some delicacy…”
“Don’t make me guess, Wu. What is it?”
“We can fly the mission as a no–return, if you wish.”
“Hmm,” said Lucca, sounding thoughtful. “No, I’m feeling generous today. The mission is to be flown as a kill–and–return.”
“That will provide the advantage of giving us someone in the sky should the felons manage to board an escape vessel.”
“Yes,” said Lucca. “Yes, I like that. We get them either way. Well done, Wu. Call me when we get closer. I still want that live coverage. And I still want proof. Don’t forget that.”
Wu swallowed. Sending a reconnaissance team into space to sift through debris would be prohibitively expensive. But Wu knew better than to bring that up now, before the strike was accomplished.
“I’ll contact you shortly with the news you await, Madam Chancellor,” replied Wu.
55
Station 92–AE
“Pavel,” called Jessamyn. “Pavel!”
Ethan blinked, once, slowly.
Mmmmmmm.
“Eth, I’m right here,” said Jessamyn, leaning in close, risking a gentle touch to his face.
Her brother continued to hum at the same pitch, pausing only for brief inhalations before continuing.
Mmmmmmm.
Jessamyn felt something on her shoulder. Pavel’s hand.
“He woke up,” she said, unnecessarily. “But he’s humming,” she added, just as unnecessarily.
Pavel placed a scanner over Ethan’s forehead. “What happened?”
Jess shook her head. “I tried something…something that worked when I was little. Come on,” she said to her brother. Desperation clawed like a winged thing trapped in her belly. “Come on, Eth. Come back to me.”
This is what you were born to do.
He had to save them.
Would Mei Lo’s words help?
“Eth, Mei Lo commed us. Someone fired on Mars Colonial yesterday. MCC says whoever it was must know now they can destroy us by combining the power of several beams and directing them to one location.”
The humming continued unabated.
“They’re all doomed,” Jess murmured. “Ethan, the whole planet is doomed. You have to come back, Eth. You’ve got to take over the satellites now.”
Mmmmmmm.
Mei Lo’s status in office would be decided in hours. If they didn’t do something, Cavanaugh Kipling might be in charge when Lucca started firing on Mars.
“Help me,” said Jess to Pavel, undoing the restraining bands holding her brother’s sleeping form to the bunk. “Maybe if we get him to his work station, he’ll come back around.”
�
��Jess,” said Pavel, softly, his head shaking side to side. “I don’t think that will change anything.”
“Help me!” she shouted. “Mars is a sitting rock about to be destroyed. We will not stand by and do nothing!”
Pavel assisted and, between them, they carried Ethan to his work station. His limbs were stiffened, but in the microgravity of the station, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t be forced into a seated position. Hovering would do equally well.
Jess looked for a sign that Ethan knew where he was. The humming continued.
“Eth,” said Jess. “I know you’re feeling awful. I know you don’t want to come back. But I need you. I told you I needed you and you woke up. Now I need you to come back to me the rest of the way, Eth. I can’t hack the satellites. I don’t even know where to start. It has to be you.”
Pavel had begun rubbing Ethan’s right hand, curled into an arthritic knot.
“Will that help?” Jess asked, taking her brother’s other hand.
Pavel shrugged. “Can’t hurt. Increase blood flow. Or…maybe it won’t increase blood flow in this gravity; I don’t know…”
Jess turned her attention back to her brother’s eyes.
“Mei Lo believes in you, Ethan. She said you were born for this task. If ever Mars needed someone like you, Ethan, the time is now,” Jess said, repeating the phrases from the Secretary General’s message.
Ethan blinked. Slowly. Closed, open, closed, open.
“You trying to tell me something?” asked Jess.
“He’s probably just trying to regain motor control. I told him once before to always start with the eyes.”
“Oh,” said Jess, her voice falling.
She looked again at the scrawls surrounding his desk. “What does this mean, Ethan? What is all this stuff?”
Her brother finished a long mmmmmm and then, after his next inhale, he was silent.
Jessamyn wanted to shout, to shake him, to tell him it was time to get to work.
“That’s better, isn’t it, Eth,” she murmured. “That’s better. Come back to me. Talk to me. As soon as you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”
Zussman floated into her peripheral vision. He signaled Pavel, and Jess resumed talking to her brother. “Ethan, what is this?” she asked, indicating what he had scribbled about firing the lasers.
He gave no response. What had he been working on?
“Take all the time you need,” she said, her voice low and soothing.
From right behind her, she heard Pavel and Zussman murmuring quietly. She couldn’t make out the words.
Until Pavel shouted, “Shizer!”
Her brother startled at the loud exclamation.
Jess glared at Pavel and then returned her gaze to her brother. “We’ve got all the time in the world, Eth.”
“We do not have all the time in the world,” said Pavel. “We need to get off the station, now! My aunt has found us.”
56
Budapest, Earth
Lucca tapped her fingers on the sides of the mug of kávé in her hands. Her new butler didn’t make it the same way Zussman had. She pushed the thought away. Zussman was a traitor.
She was tired of waiting; she wanted to be doing. And then she thought of something she could do, now that the space station situation was under control. Doing things always improved her mood. And doing this thing would make her middle–of–the–night wait considerably less tiresome. She called for her butler.
“Yes, Madam Chancellor?”
“I wish to speak with whomever is on duty over at the Marsian Containment Satellites facility.”
A few minutes passed before she was connected.
“We’re moving the time table for Operation Burnout ahead a few hours. You will now proceed to the final stage,” said the Chancellor. “You haven’t, by any chance, managed to solve the visualization issues?”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Er, no, Madam Chancellor. The satellites remain without cameras, as they were before.”
“Hmm,” sighed Lucca. “A pity.”
It was a pity no one on Earth would see the destruction of Mars. Well, the Martians would see it. Lucca smiled. That would have to be good enough.
“Very well,” continued the Chancellor. “Commence firing. Chancellor out.”
57
Station 92–AE
“What do you mean, ‘found us,’?” demanded Jessamyn.
“I am terribly sorry, Miss Jessamyn,” said Zussman, “But it would appear we are yet again the target of my former employer’s wrath.”
Pavel jumped in. “Zuss figured his way into her comm system since we got up here.”
“Oh,” said Jess. She hadn’t really thought about how Lucca’s former butler might have been spending his time on the station.
“He listens in now and again, in case anything comes up we should know about,” said Pavel.
“Such as a planned attack upon this station,” said Zussman. “Which I believe, unfortunately, is imminent.”
“How imminent are we talking?” demanded Jessamyn.
“Hard to say with accuracy, Miss Jessamyn,” replied the butler. “However, in her communication with her defense strategist, she suggested an immediate launch would be in his best interest.”
“If we go with worst case,” said Jess, “That would mean…” She broke off, trying to recall how long their own rendezvous had taken.
“Depending on where she can launch from, that would give us as few as two hours, twelve minutes,” said Pavel.
“Our ship isn’t fixed yet,” said Jess.
“I am confident in your ability to pilot us to safety, Miss Jessamyn,” said Zussman.
“You got this, Jess. No problem,” added Pavel.
“Okay,” said Jess, her head nodding slowly. “Okay. We’ve drilled for this. Let’s go.”
There was relief in knowing exactly what steps needed to be taken and in taking them in precise order. They had even practiced suiting an incapacitated crew member, although Jess felt a momentary fear that putting her brother in a suit would worsen his condition. But this wasn’t a drill. This was real. There was no second option.
“You two: get Ethan suited up,” said Jessamyn. “I’m going to retrieve as much of this information as I can. Maybe we can make some use of it later.”
Jess turned for a final word with her brother.
“Eth, things just got a whole lot more complicated. Lucca’s found us and we have to suit up now. You’re going to be fine, Ethan. You can do this. I believe in you.”
With that, she turned to his work station and began grabbing everything she thought might be important.
58
New Houston, Mars
Mei Lo was still reeling from the implications of Cavanaugh’s admissions over the newsfeed. She’d donned a suit, gone outside, and turned off the comm link inside her helmet. She would hear a lot of complaints for that, no doubt, but she needed to be alone with her thoughts, even if only for a handful of minutes.
How could he have done this? Communicated with Lucca Brezhnaya? And worse, how could he have done it without MCC knowing he had done it? She wanted to jump in her Cloud Runner, find Cavanaugh, and kill him with her bare hands.
But that wouldn’t help her win the election. Nor would it change what he had done.
Cavanaugh had spoken of the Terran Chancellor as though he knew her well. But Mei Lo knew her better. Instinctively, the Secretary turned her head toward the sky. How long did they have, any of them, if Ethan failed?
It hit her again like a blow to the gut, Cavanaugh’s effrontery in contacting Lucca Brezhnaya. Mei Lo had to reveal some part of what she knew of the Chancellor’s true character. If Mars Colonial was now in unofficial talks with Earth, then the citizens of Mars Colonial needed to know who they were talking with.
The Secretary flicked on her helmet comm and strode back to the airlock.
59
Station 92–AE
; Aboard the Star Shark, Jessamyn tugged at the restraining harness until it felt more as if she were pressing into the pilot’s hot–seat. She examined the data from her hurried pre–flight checks.
It all looked good. So why did she feel like something was off?
She brushed the feeling aside and initialized the ship’s uncoupling from the space station. Finally, she was occupying the single place in the universe where she belonged: a pilot’s hot–seat.
Beside her Pavel ran through a series of checks.
From her end, everything looked good. Well, everything except one busted starboard thruster, but that didn’t worry her. She could get them clear with a whole lot less, if she had to.
Returning to Earth didn’t feel nearly as safe as staying in space, but Zussman had presented convincing arguments against trying the other two stations with deep space relays, which, apparently, lacked breathable air as well as gravity.
No, it was best they return to Earth as quickly as possible. Her brother would surely recover in open air. They were doing the right thing.
So why did Jess have such an awful feeling in her gut right now?
You’re a pilot. Fly this thing!
And then, as if awakening from a dream, Jessamyn’s mind cleared. This was not where she belonged. And she knew it.
And she knew why.
“I can’t do this,” she said, turning to Pavel.
He looked at her, brows raised as if to say, Can’t do what?
“This is wrong,” said Jess, terminating the uncoupling protocols. “It’s wrong.”
More than anything, she wanted to punch the ship’s controls and fly full–out, settling all self–doubt, all debate, with the demands of a craft entering a heavy–gravity world. But she couldn’t.
“This isn’t a day to run,” said Jessamyn. “I got caught up in the moment, doing what we drilled for. But we didn’t plan for these circumstances. The fate of Mars Colonial is hanging in the balance today. And that means I can’t run.”
“Jess,” said Pavel, adjusting his chair so he could look directly into her eyes. “We don’t have a choice. Lucca is sending a ship up to wipe this station out. We have to go, now.”
Mars Burning (The Saving Mars Series-) Page 19