February quickly applied some makeup to her face, and with experience born of years, she took less than five minutes to fix it so that she would blend in with the crowds of herd she expected to meet. She also applied a little makeup to her wrists and forearms so that she could wear a cute little black half-sleeved top that she had fought for luggage space to bring along with her. The forearm makeup was a little more awkward because forearms have a habit of knocking other things and people, especially in crowded areas such as the market level of the colony. She had to make sure that if she did brush something, then the makeup would stay on her arms and not commute to whatever she had brushed. She decided she would also carry a small tub of spare makeup just in case she needed to make any repairs. It shouldn’t be too difficult to sneak into a ladies’ room somewhere and fix it without having to worry about being spotted for the rest of her walk.
‘Going out?’ Kitty asked as she entered their joint bedroom. There really wasn’t a lot of room for the both of them.
February was still applying makeup, though she had moved on from the stuff that disguised what she was to the more feminine touches such as foundation and lipstick. Nothing too outstanding, though—the last thing she wanted was to attract attention. ‘I thought I might take a look around the market level, see what’s there.’
‘Ooh,’ Kitty commented excitedly, ‘give me a few minutes to put a disguise on and I’ll come with you.’
February hesitated. ‘I’d rather you stayed here and kept an eye on the herd. I don’t like to leave them alone for too long at a time. I don’t trust what they might get up to.’
Kitty seemed a little saddened and a little emotional as she said, ‘Maureen doesn’t get on well with you, I know. But she would never do anything without the backing of the others, and George would never do anything that might hurt me. It’s safe to leave them alone.’
‘I wish I could be sure,’ February told her gently. ‘I was brought up not to trust the herd, and Maureen is the epitome of why.’
‘Then what about Stanley?’ Kitty asked, calming down. ‘Stanley has returned to work today. He’ll be meeting a lot of friends there, have plenty to talk about, and yet you won’t be able to keep an eye on him! He could be telling the authorities all sorts of things about us and there’s nothing you can do about it. There are three of them; we can’t follow all of them everywhere and keep an eye on them twenty-four hours a day. In the end, you have to risk trusting them.’
February paused for a minute while she seemed to consider what her friend had said. ‘I guess you’re right,’ she finally answered. ‘I guess it’s just so much in my nature to distrust them that I want to keep an eye on them at all times. But you’re right; I can’t follow them all the time. Not and live my own life. If they’re going to betray either of us, then they’ll probably do that anyway whether we stay with them all the time or not. Okay, throw a disguise on quickly and let’s get out of here before we wake the rest of the household up.’
‘A little late for that,’ Kitty commented, her voice a lot happier now than it had seemed a minute ago. ‘George was waiting to use the shower as I stepped out.’
It was just under an hour later when the two emerged from the apartment into the corridor. Kitty was wearing light baggy jeans, her tail snug against one of her legs where it probably wouldn’t have fooled anybody had they actually thought to look for members of her race. Here on Mars, though, the Herbaht simply weren’t an issue. February wore a fairly short black skirt to go with the half-sleeve top she was wearing. There were little hooks that she had added herself placed about the midpoint of the skirt, and these held her tail in place and clear of the opening at the bottom. It was uncomfortable, but it looked good when mingling with the herd, and where the Herbaht were concerned, security was better than comfort. February also carried a small black handbag to hide the spare makeup in as well as a few sundries such as money.
The apartment was quite near the center of the colony. It was one of the better rooms on level one, no more than four ring corridors away from the water cycling plant at the very center of the colony. The apartment might be a lot smaller than she was used to, but February had spent some time visiting the outermost corridors on this level just yesterday and she was very glad that they weren’t living in some of the shoeboxes there. Those places looked far too small for even one person to live in. February had estimated that there was no more than five feet between any two doors. Living in one of those apartments must be like living in a broom closet.
February led the way. It seemed to be how Kitty preferred it. Kitty had probably been under the professor’s thumb for far too long, and the chances of her ever taking the initiative on something were tiny at best. They walked straight past the nearest ramp that led to the next level up and entered an elevator just beyond. February had nothing against using the ramps, but preferred to travel by elevator even if it was only for one floor. It was to do with the fact that she was wearing a skirt and didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity of looking up it to see she had a tail.
There were times when February liked to indulge herself in little fantasies. For example, when the elevator doors opened on level two and she saw the crowds of people clogging up the corridors between the shops, the crowds that she was going to have to mingle with and somehow make her way through, she imagined for a moment that she was stepping out of the elevator in her natural stripes. The herd saw her, and panicking, they ran as fast as they could, clearing a nice path for her. As nice as the fantasy was, though, doing such a thing could only lead to disaster for both her and Kitty. Instead she had to grit her teeth and join the flow.
The main problem with the market level was that since there were no vehicles for people to bring and fill with goodies, most of those who had come here to do some serious shopping had brought a small basket set on wheels, and they tended to pull these things after them, not watching what mischief they might be causing behind them. These baskets easily took up as much room as the herd themselves did. It didn’t help that half the time many of the herd didn’t seem to know where they were going and would stop suddenly, halting the entire flow in one direction or the other, and in most cases there wasn’t much space for people to squeeze past. It also didn’t help that there were branches of four major supermarkets on this level somewhere, and the elevator that had brought February and Kitty to this level emerged opposite the main doors of one such establishment.
There were adverts scattered everywhere, on shop windows and the bare walls between the shops. At many of the intersections there were billboards, also covered with more adverts. Businesses in this area probably had to advertise like this because there were so few other mediums available to them. Only the really big Martian companies could afford to tout their wares on Earth with the hope of any sort of real return on their investment. What was left for most was word of mouth, sending out fliers and hanging leaflets, and the directory of businesses that was supplied to all new residents of Mars.
February stopped at the next billboard and examined it for a few minutes. She had been hoping there would be a map of the level or at least of the immediate area, and indeed there was. But some idiot had stuck an advert for a roller disco right over the top of it and made the thing virtually unreadable. She looked around, a little lost, trying to see if there were any other billboards in sight at any more junctions, but there were too many people in all the corridors to see to the end of any of them clearly, and there was no place for her to gain a little height and so see better.
In the end February took the left turning, simply so she would be anywhere other than where she was. Kitty followed close behind, looking at all the shops with interest and pausing occasionally when something caught her eye. On one occasion she even had to run to catch up with February again.
Then, as they were passing a sandwich bar, February turned to face Kitty. This time it was their turn to disrupt the traffic. ‘Do you think we should stop and have something to eat? We d
idn’t have any breakfast before leaving this morning.’
‘I am a little hungry,’ Kitty agreed happily.
The sandwich bar was a fairly small place with more tables scattered about than was really comfortable for its size. The customers queued up under a large sign on which were listed a wide selection of various types of sandwiches. Customers gave their orders at one side of the counter and paid at the other. This particular shop was actually being operated by herd rather than the robots, but that was more normally the way of things on Mars.
‘Do you know what you’d like?’ February asked Kitty as she made her own selection.
‘You forget,’ Kitty commented calmly, ‘I can’t read. I have no idea what’s on offer. Choose something for me, would you? Something nice.’
‘Well, what sort of thing do you fancy? Chicken, beef…’ February started.
‘Chicken sounds good,’ Kitty interrupted.
February gave the order to the woman behind the counter and then took a quick look around the shop as they waited for their order to be processed. There were three couples sitting at various places around the shop, one of whom had brought their children with them. At the back of the shop were a group of six children and two adults celebrating a birthday party.
Before February and Kitty even had their sandwiches, one of the couples had finished theirs and left the shop. They looked unhurried, obviously not savoring rejoining the crowds in the corridors outside.
This sandwich shop also had several different types of tea on offer, including many herbal ones. February collected the sandwiches, handing one to Kitty, and then paid for them, adding two cups of peppermint tea to the order so they would have something to wash the sandwiches down with.
They then found a table not too close to the herd in the shop and sat so that February could watch the crowds passing through the shop’s glass window. Kitty sat to one side; it seemed that she also wanted to watch the passing crowds. There was nothing to really look at in the shop except a few rather dull paintings that weren’t even holographic images and that adorned the side walls.
They ate their sandwiches with little more than small talk, carefully avoiding all subjects involving Herbaht or any descriptions of humans as herd. February’s attention was caught for a moment when three men in business suits entered the shop. There was a moment of concern that she and Kitty had been betrayed—there was always something suspicious about a man in a suit—but she calmed down when they started to examine the overhead sign and choose their sandwiches.
February made a quick check of the shop’s clock to discover that it was already nearly noon. No wonder she had been feeling so hungry. It hadn’t been breakfast she had wanted; it had been lunch. Where had all the time gone?
An overheard comment from one of the adults at the birthday party behind caught her attention: ‘I’m sorry, we couldn’t get you a pet cat for your birthday; the government on Earth has locked them all up for being naughty.’ This was followed by one of the children, likely the birthday boy himself, breaking into tears. The adult, presumably the mother, was able to calm him fairly quickly though by promising him a visit to the swimming baths in the American section of the colony.
So they did exist, thought February. Shame she didn’t think she could get away with using them. She was very tempted to go and ask exactly where these baths were and did the woman know anything about a shower shop, but she resisted the urge.
Kitty had finished her sandwich and began to stir a little sugar into her tea when February caught a sudden scent on the air. She looked up, startled, and then about as if unsure of herself. ‘Can you smell that?’
‘Peppermint,’ Kitty replied happily, referring to the tea.
‘No,’ February told her, considering the remains of her sandwich. ‘It’s weird, a living being, a smell similar to our own and yet in many ways totally different.’
‘A hybrid?’ Kitty suggested, keeping her voice very low so even February had a hard time hearing.
‘Not possible,’ February whispered back, ‘unless you believe those religious stories about how the Patriarchs were created. And that only seems possible if you’re some sort of demigod to start with.’
Kitty shrugged her shoulders and sipped her tea.
February, now more alert than she had been since arriving on Mars, climbed to her feet. ‘Come on, we’d better follow the scent and find out what it means.’
‘Curiosity killed the…’ Kitty started. It was obvious that she wanted to stay and finish her tea.
‘Don’t finish that comment,’ February warned angrily. ‘Just follow me, unless you wish to head back to the apartment.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Kitty replied. She sipped from her cup, half standing as she did so. ‘I’d like to know what has gotten you all worked up too.’
The scent was a lot easier to follow than February had expected. It wasn’t herd, and though it was very similar in many ways to Herbaht, it clearly wasn’t. That posed an awkward question that February didn’t want to face. If it wasn’t herd and it wasn’t Herbaht, then what could it be?
The scent led her up one of the ramps to level three, where the housing was even better than the apartment in which they lived and the air was filled with a gentle perfume that made following the scent a little more awkward, though not impossible.
Level three was a lot less crowded than level two was, or even level one. The target of this hunt seemed to be moving through the corridors quickly, taking random turnings, and after only a few twists and turns headed up yet another ramp to level four.
February’s mind was set on the search now, but again her paranoia was setting in. Were she and Kitty being led this way purposely? What would be waiting for them when they reached the end of this hunt?
They continued up to level four, following the scent through virtually empty corridors. Whenever it took another turn, February would stop and peer into the next corridor before following. One thing she was sure of was that she didn’t want to find whatever she was following waiting for her and not be ready to defend herself if the situation called for it.
Another up ramp, and they were on level five. This was the admin level. This was the level on which Stanley worked, and there was a good chance he was here unless he was out on a call somewhere. She and Kitty would have to be careful; if they bumped into him they might have a hard time explaining exactly what they were doing so far from the colony’s thoroughfares.
Fortunately the scent didn’t seem to stay here long, taking the next up ramp to level six. ‘Whoever it is will have to stop climbing soon,’ February commented.
At the top of the ramp the scent she was following mingled with one of a Herbaht. It was very faint and February was so intent on the strange scent that she actually missed it until she had taken seven or eight more steps. Then she backtracked to the top of the ramp in order to make sure they were headed in the right direction.
‘There’s a Herbaht on this level somewhere,’ February told her friend, and then she started following the scent again. Both of the scents, the strange one and the Herbaht, seemed to be coming from the same direction. The only real difference was that the strange scent had passed through here within the last ten minutes or so, whereas the Herbaht was a lot older and probably only still existed because there seemed to be no other activity in these corridors. As it was, the scent was so old that February was unable to decide whether it belonged to a male or a female.
A lot of these corridors seemed to end in dead ends with a door into whatever business was at the end of the corridor. Usually there was a sign in black paint at the beginning of the corridor naming the business in question. It seemed that the owners of these businesses valued their privacy greatly. If February hadn’t been following a particular scent via a particular route she could have easily gotten lost in the haphazard mazelike design of the level.
The scent eventually took them down one of those dead ends, past a black painted sign that read ‘Labo
ratory 7,’ and towards a door with a hole in it roughly where the handle would have been…a door outside which someone had left a boot upturned on a pile of black dust.
February lifted the boot to examine it, turning it over in her hands. She realized that it was really only half a boot, and it had the remains of a foot still inside. What was more, it appeared that whatever had caused this had actually cauterized the wound as it had made it, not that it really mattered much to the original owner of the foot.
‘I’m not sure I want to explore any further,’ February told Kitty as she replaced the boot on the back dust. ‘Whatever did this isn’t something I want to come face to face with anytime soon.’
‘Let’s go back then,’ Kitty replied, agreeing emphatically.
February sighed and nodded. She got up and started to head away from door, moving quietly so as not to attract the attention of whoever might still be inside the room beyond the door with the hole.
As the short dead-end corridor merged into the main corridor again, February hesitated. Her instincts were nagging at her to leave the area, to find safety on the lower levels again, but the scent of the other Herbaht was too compelling. She could tell it was a male now, and he might need help. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t just turn my back on one of my own race, the same as I couldn’t turn my back on you when I picked you up. I’d really rather not get involved in another’s problem, but I’m also not sure that I could live with myself, knowing that I was here and I was the only one that could help him and I just left.’
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