by Cindy Borgne
I brought up a list of organizations located on the other side of Mars. Tempe Union stood out from the others - a peaceful organization with an isolated outpost. A perfect place to go.
****
The next night in my own bed I focused on finding out more about Bret.
What is Bret doing? I repeated several phrases about Bret until I fell asleep. My mind raced out across the surface over the never ending flow of dust. I stopped beyond the Marscorp border. From this distance, the factories looked like a few small specks.
The ground vibrated beneath me. Dust trickled down the edges of a door retracting on the ground. I floated down beneath the doors and into a small hangar. Inside two shiny black vessels were parked – Bret’s Phantom midranges. A vacuum kicked on sucking all the dust into vents along the top and bottom of the hangar.
Shelves with perfectly organized boxes filled one wall. Two others, a man and a woman I hadn’t seen before, worked on some parts at a workbench along the wall. This made me wonder just how many were on Bret’s team of spies. Everything was neatly organized, unlike Sonny’s office. Even the tools shined.
Kayla walked past the vessels with a dataviewer tucked under her arm. She went into an office connected to this small enclosed hangar where Bret sat behind a desk. On the back wall, lights glowed from a console with a panel of various radar systems.
“You went to see Ian, didn’t you?” Bret asked with a slight frown.
“Yes, I wanted to know the details.”
“As I said, it’s not good to get involved, but seeing as you went, what did you find out?”
She plopped in a chair in front of the desk. “He’s definitely turned against Marscorp. Maybe we should help him before something else happens.”
Bret ran his hands across his face. “I can’t take any chances. I’ve worked too hard to get into this position to do anything risky.”
She leaned on her hand. “You don’t trust him?”
“How can I? I don’t know him.”
She shook her head. “He’s innocent. Trust me, I can tell.”
“You’re the one who’s still innocent since you don’t realize there is something strange about that kid.”
“Maybe there is something strange about him, but somehow I feel like he’s telling the truth.” She got up and walked toward the door. “You must not value my opinion.”
Bret slapped his hand flat on the desk. “Kayla, wait.”
She stopped and slowly turned.
“I have to protect you, my wife and the others. I failed with Layne and I can’t fail again.” He glanced off to the side. “We have a lot going on and must get back to work.”
A gray haze blurred and dissolved before me. The paint-chipped ceiling of my room came into view. I didn’t blame Bret for not trusting me and agreed he needed to be here to do whatever he could against Marscorp.
****
Throughout the next few days, I worked so hard it caused me to sleep too deeply to have visions. Layne’s last request for me to deliver his message for Kayla continued to bother me. But how did he expect me to do it? Even in his last breaths, he knew I was a Marc.
Late into the evening, I pulled yet another broken elevator into my station. Kayla worked on small parts at a bench along the wall. She still wore the same gray cap, which was good. I preferred her not drawing attention to herself.
Kayla continued to bring up different diagrams on a small monitor.
I walked over, pretending like I was just passing by and stopped as if I’d only now had noticed her. “Looking for something?”
“Could you help me with this thing?” She picked up a power switch. “I’m not sure if I assembled it right.” She chuckled and handed it to me.
I looked it over. “Uh, you have one part backwards, making it out of alignment.”
“Terrific.” She yawned and stretched.
I set it down and grabbed a screw driver. “I’ll show you.”
“Never mind.” She rubbed her face. “I’m too tired to remember, and I’m too tired to paint.”
“Huh?”
“I have this painting I’m working on. I’ll never finish it.”
As I went to ask another question, Sonny’s voice came over the intercom. “I’m calling it a night. Please remember to lock up your tools. Get some sleep.”
Machine noise reduced as everyone shut down.
I followed her to the elevator. “So you’re an artist?”
“Sort of.” She stepped into the open door and narrowed her eyes. “Want to see?”
I hopped over next to her and held the door open. “But what about Bret? He doesn’t exactly like me.”
“Don’t worry about him. He’s away for the night at a training seminar about engine upgrades.”
In other words, he was doing something for Vallar. I let the doors slide shut. After a short ride, she led the way to her small room near the repair hangar. I stepped through the narrow steel door. The small room was the same shape and size of my room. A tropical wilderness painting hung on the wall to the left. Over the desk, a picture hung on the wall of the sun setting, reflecting brightly over the ocean with a boat in the distance.
A painting of a winter scene, with pine trees and snow, hung over her twin-sized bed. To the right of the bed was an easel with a painting on it. This made it clear I only knew part of her from my visions.
“These are beautiful.”
Another small table filled with jars containing different colors of paint sat behind the easel. Pieces of cardboard and assorted paper was under the table. Well-worn paintbrushes stuck out of a jar. I wanted to ask her why she gave up being a diplomat. It didn’t make any sense.
Kayla took off the cap, revealing a puff of auburn hair. “Has the Admiral bothered you at all since the incident?”
“No, which makes me nervous.” I smiled at her curious eyes and the tapping of her fingers. I saw nothing wrong with doing some prying of my own. “Have you ever been in a battle?”
She stammered for a few seconds and blushed. “Ah, for a short time, yes. I was training to be a navigator.”
I wondered how that fit in with being a diplomat. The moment felt right to push things further. “I was in the battle. The one at the Genner mine.”
Her mouth opened. She stared like she saw the battle again. “You were in that battle?” She raised a critical eye. “You’re too young.”
“My friend Nate and I snuck our way into it.”
“But how did you survive?” She said as if it wasn’t possible.
“I almost didn’t.” I turned away and stared at the floor, “and Nate was killed.”
She touched my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“I would’ve died too, but a Genner soldier saved my life.” The desire to tell her about Layne grew, making me hold my breath. The words wanted to slip off the tip of my tongue, so I pressed my lips together.
“A Genner soldier saved your life?” Her eyes spilled over with curiosity. Her hand moved up to my shoulder.
Her comforting touch made me crave to hold her the way we had in my visions. Our fates had changed thanks to my interference. We’d never be together. I didn’t deserve any sympathy. I took her hand and stared into her confused green eyes. “Beacon doesn’t care how many he has to kill to gain power.” She deserved to know Layne’s last words, but I wasn’t sure.
“I know,” she whispered.
“I heard the message from Gentech. They tried to negotiate in the hopes of saving lives, but Beacon ignored them. All he wanted was to steal their mine, and I’m glad he didn’t get it.”
She turned a shade paler. “I heard it was terrible battle.”
“Yes, but in some ways I’m glad I saw it.” I paused. “How about you? How do you feel about Beacon?”
“Me?” She swallowed and paced about. “I don’t really care. I’m a worker.”
“You’re more than just a worker.”
She looked off to the side fearfully.
; Part of me couldn’t believe I was going this far. “Look how talented you are.” I pointed at one of her paintings.
She smiled, but her eyes darted around the room. “I used to think there could be peace on Mars someday. That all the organizations would work together.” She sat on the bed. “I don’t think about it anymore.”
I wanted to tell her not to give up on that hope. Her former position of assistant diplomat was important. Her artistic talent was going to waste. An idea came to mind. “This may sound strange, but I was wondering if you could paint a picture from someone describing the image.”
“I’ve never tried that before.”
“I have vivid dreams, and it would be nice if an artist could paint some of them.”
She smiled and her tense shoulders relaxed. “I could give it a try.”
“I’ll let you know.” I almost reached out to hug, wanting her to overcome the pain, but she wouldn’t understand. I had my own problems and here I was getting side tracked again. “I better go. We need sleep.” I inched toward the door. “Thanks for helping.”
“No problem,” she said. “Stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll try.” I backed out the door and made sure it locked.
When I exited the elevator and entered the dark, empty shop, clanks came from the rear of the shop as the cargo vessel docked. I walked straight to the back and watched from behind a docked elevator.
“Everything looks fine as usual. Go ahead and unload.” Hector stepped out of the rear of the vessel with a dataviewer tucked under his arm. “But next time be here on time. Three hours late isn’t acceptable. Especially since I worked a double shift today.”
“Sorry, sir.” A thin, almost bald man used a handcart to wheel a crate out of the back of the vessel. His uniform gave away that he was from the Nortell organization, one of Marscorp’s allies.
“You can handle the rest. I’m going to bed.” Hector walked toward the rooms.
I suspected I could get a ride out of Marscorp with this pilot, but what if my recent vision of Beacon meant I’d be arrested? Or maybe it meant if I did nothing I’d end up arrested? The only thing I knew for sure was that Beacon wasn’t going to let up. I came out of my hiding spot and stopped the pilot as he unloaded a crate.
“Need something?” he asked.
“I was wondering. Do you ever let any Marcs travel with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“If someone wanted a flight to a place outside of Marscorp, would you be willing to do it?”
“You talking about leaving Marscorp?”
“Maybe.” I helped him put the crate along the wall. “Do you ever help anyone with that?”
“Maybe.” He went back into the craft for another crate.
I regretted asking so bluntly. Maybe the brass gave him rewards for turning in defectors. I tried to come up with more subtle questions and helped him load the crate onto the handcart. “So what happens to workers when they do this?”
“Usually they get another job at some other organization. Haven’t you ever heard of workers skipping?”
“Na, I’m just a greenhorn.” I said, wanting to keep it simple.
“I see.” He rolled the next crate off the vessel. “Workers move around more than anyone realizes.”
I helped him drop the crate next to the other one. “So Marscorp just lets them go?”
The pilot chuckled. “Why should they care? Most workers are trying to get into Marscorp - rather than out. It's safer here. I'm just glad I'm in an allied org.”
“So do you do these trips for workers?”
The pilot grinned, knowing what I wanted. “If the price is right and location, of course.” He looked me over skeptically. “You don’t like Sonny’s shop?”
“It’s complicated.”
“So where do you want to go?”
“A good friend of mine went to the Argyre post and I want to look for her.”
“A woman? It figures,” the man mumbled.
I decided offering too many credits would be suspicious. I had to look like nothing more than a worker. “I can only afford one thousand credits.”
“What?” the pilot said with a whine. “Argyre is kinda far for that price.”
“Okay, twelve hundred credits, but that’s all. It’s my life’s savings.” I worried I may have offered too little, but I couldn’t change it now.
“You’re serious for one so young.”
“Please, that’s all I’ve got, except maybe for a few tools.”
The pilot tensed his jaw and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back in a few days. Can you go then?”
“Yes.”
“Be here Saturday at one in the morning.” He put the handcart back in the rear of the craft. “Bring those tools.”
“I’ll see you then.”
The pilot raised his eyebrows with a hint of disbelief and went back into the vessel.
As I walked away, I had doubts myself. The longer I stayed, the harder it became to leave. Even when I didn’t hear from Beacon, the fear of him hung over me. He was making me leave Kayla and Sonny. I hated him for it.
Chapter 16
The day before the quota deadline turned out to be the most grueling. At one o’clock in the morning, I collapsed on my bed after fixing twenty elevators - my record so far. Sonny hadn’t even stopped by my station to notice my achievement. Not that it mattered. He still worked out there with Hector on the last few elevators to finish the quota.
Everyone had skipped dinner. Feeling shaky, I grabbed a protein bar out of the cabinet and tore it open. I went through the dresser drawers looking for some clean clothes, but little remained and a large pile of dirty laundry had built up in the corner.
As I ate the last bits of the protein bar, I pried the com out of my pocket and checked the messages, not having a chance to answer them all day. I browsed a message from Kayla.
If you would like me to try painting a dream for you, maybe we could do it tomorrow. Let me know. I think it would be fun.
Despite Bret, she still wanted to know more about me. I took Layne’s com out of the drawer and stuffed it in my pocket. I had to give it to her and tell her Layne’s last message somehow before I left.
I pictured Kayla spending her few moments of spare time locked in her room, painting and trying to imagine herself in those scenes to escape the drudgery. Unless, of course, Bret kept her busy with Vallar duties. She would only miss me a little while I wouldn’t ever be able to forget her. Bret would keep her safe.
The buzz of the holo interrupted my thoughts. I moved over to the desk and cringed at seeing Clare’s name.
“Hello,” I said in a monotone voice.
Clare’s holographic image appeared over the desk. She wore a gray robe and looked about to go to bed. “Why haven’t you contacted me in the last two days? The Admiral is demanding a report on your visions.”
“I’ve been working double shifts.”
“Have you even tried any of those exercises I sent you?”
“Yes, but they didn’t work,” I lied.
“You can’t continue this way. Beacon won’t stand for it.” She took a long pause. “I’ve called to warn you.” Her eyes hardened in a disconcerting way. “Admiral Beacon has reached the end of his patience with you and has been talking about using drugs to get you to comply.”
“What?” I jumped up and paced.
“These drugs will render you helpless and under his full control. I don’t want this to happen to you.”
I stared, not wanting to believe it. “Please Clare, if anyone - you can help me get out of here.” I wiped the dampness from my forehead and tried to stay calm.
“Stop. You were raised to have these visions for Marscorp. It’s the only choice. Get a hold of yourself and think logically.”
Beacon controlled Clare with fear. I fully understood why Layne refused to surrender despite the odds. She left me no choice, but to pretend to go along with her.
“Ian? Ian?”
/>
“The truth is these long days make me too tired to have visions. I have to come home and get some rest.”
“I’ll have to ask Admiral Beacon.”
“If he agrees, ask him to give me a few days. Sonny will need some time to replace me.”
“Yes, I’ll tell him, but no longer.”
“Of course, not.” I pictured myself in a semi-conscious state mumbling about visions to Admiral Beacon.
“Now you’re being sensible.” Her face returned to its placid state just before her image disappeared.
A memory came of myself at the age of four standing in front of my teacher’s desk. My visions back then had often let me know what the teacher planned for the day. The teacher caught on that I was getting information. They questioned me and gave me tests.
“You’re not going to live at the childcare facility anymore, but instead you’re going with Dr. Clare. She will look after you.”
“Why?” I asked, not wanting to leave my friends.
“Because you have a special ability, and Dr. Clare has the skills to help you progress.”
I didn’t know what progress meant back then, but it sounded good. Clare directed my life for Marscorp. I didn’t know if she cared about me. Fear – Beacon controlled her with fear. She wasn’t the only one. He controlled me with fear too – keeping me from everyone I cared about.
Tomorrow the cargo pilot would come and I’d be leaving, but with the threat of being drugged, I wished it was sooner. I gathered up the laundry and carried it down the narrow metal hall, passing the worker rooms, and into a laundry room. Clean work clothes hung on a long rack. I tossed my dirty clothes into a bin, found my size and took a few clean pairs of pants and shirts.
When I returned to my room, a red light on the holo blinked. The sight of Beacon’s name on the display made me want to jump down an elevator shaft. He’d left a message and I brought it up. His holographic image appeared in rust colored fatigues with his blond hair spiked.
“Ian? Where are you? Oh yes, it’s month-end at the factories. You must be working overtime.” His light-brown goatee twitched as he put on a phony grin. “Clare told me you’ll be back in a few days and I wanted to tell you that you will get going on those visions, not in a few days, but now. We still have a big problem with Vallar. Find out their secrets, their technology and especially that deflector. Anymore false information and you will be arrested.” Beacon’s image faded.