"I’ll come with you then. You can’t walk alone around here without help," Parker said. In truth, he wanted to know what was eating at the captain.
"This colony is harmless, and it’s personal business," Eamonn replied. "I will meet you here at midnight, local time. You must attend the event. We already agreed, and they are paying for the repairs to the Protector."
"I don’t like this," Parker said, but Jan grabbed his arm to stop his complaints.
"We will distract that Eldon guy so you can get out of here unescorted," she said.
"Thanks."
Eamonn darted toward the escalators to the right. He was already on his way down when Birch hurried to them in protest. "Sir, sir, that is not the way to the transport."
Roche took one long stride and his towering figure stood over Birch. "He is looking for the bathroom. He told us to go ahead without him. He will be awhile."
"Unusual," Eldon said, dropping his poised manner with a series of arm gestures that showed his disgust. Realizing his deviation from protocol, he pulled his arms back to his side and straightened up. "I will note. I am not responsible for him in the event he is injured."
"Just take us to Aethpis Gardens," Jan said, looking at Roche and rolling her eyes.
Parker bit his lower lip. The captain had abandoned them, sticking him with diplomatic duties when he had repairs to make and investigations to conduct. The slight ran deep in his mind for a long moment. Then he let out a long breath and followed the group.
Chapter 15
Sweat dripped from Seth’s forehead as he pressed the welding cutter into the hull of the Protector, slicing the metal above the plasma gun. It was the same spot the rebel fighter had damaged—narrowly missing him with a volley of bullets—in their escape. Sparks dropped to the ground as he guided the welder, careful to avoid cutting the sensitive circuitry along the surface of the hull. As the metal cooled and twisted, the loud sounds it gave off dulled all the other sounds around him, leaving him with some sense of silence, which he appreciated.
He had erupted at the briefing, and Chloe had pressed him to talk. He knew she meant well, and he didn’t blame her, but he needed time alone to think.
His return to Mars was churning the same anguish and haunting thoughts that he had experienced before. He had tried to prepare himself for the emotional torture the government would put him through, and he had managed to conceal his aggression successfully until he erupted at the meeting. Terrorist attacks and an incompetent effort to restore communications to Lunara had made him question whether the current leadership provided safety or if they controlled Lunara.
He needed to get in touch with Ty, and then he and the crew would leave the planet and never return. Yet . . . Gwen wouldn’t leave Mars anytime soon. Her father warned Eamonn and Jan to exclude her from any operations for the next week. The chancellor, using cryptic political mumbo-jumbo, had said he was convinced the invaders didn’t destroy the Protector because Gwen was a target of a kidnapping.
Which is probably the case, Seth figured.
Gwen being confined to Zephyria was fine with him; he didn’t want her here. His nerves were tearing apart, but when Gwen had advanced on him, she destroyed whatever comfort he might have had around her. She had left him caught between two places. She had always intrigued him, but he looked on her more as a friend, and even though she was younger than he, he often looked to her for guidance. He had never seen that youth in her until today, but he had also seen the poise and the grace she projected as the daughter of the chancellor. Had she let her emotions defeat her, or was she really in love with him? Which part of her was she showing when she kissed him—the youthfulness or the well-thought-out diplomat?
He pressed the cutter harder along the ship, curving his arcs finely to satisfy any complaints Parker might have about his handiwork.
His return to Mars stuck like a dagger in his side. The cruelty of the planet reached all the way to Lunara, snatched him, and then shoveled his worst memories back into his head. He couldn’t get his slain mother’s image out of his mind. He hadn’t slept well. The dream reoccurred, and Mars trickled like sand in an hourglass, consuming him. His hatred for the planet gripped his fears, squeezing the rage slowly until it became an obsession.
Mars had left him with horrid memories. Nothing good about his mother remained. The long years had replaced his mother’s voice and her stories with silence. The shadow of the planet twisted all his good memories. His memory of his mother stirred thoughts of a dead woman lying in the street, a knife clenched in her hand, and worried thoughts written across her face, and the echoing voice saying, "Seth, don’t wander off."
He tightened his grip on the welder. After finishing the last cut in the hull, he scanned the hangar for Chloe. He spotted her through the glass partition.
She lay in the break room. She was safe.
He shifted back toward the hull. With a pair of thermal gloves on his hands, he yanked on the torched section. After a series of sharp twists, the shard snapped off, and he threw the metal sheet to the floor, where it rattled with a clang. He stepped on the service ladder, descended to the hangar’s deck, and walked across toward the break room.
"Hey, beautiful, wake up," he said. She continued to keep her back to him. He walked a little faster toward her but slowed as he got closer and heard her whimpering. "What’s the matter?" he asked as he reached the couch and sat next to her.
"Nothing," she said. "The return is overwhelming. All the voices in my head. I am worried . . ."
"About Mars?"
"No. Mars is safe. Not hearing from Ty is troubling."
"We won’t be on Mars for long."
"After we hear from Ty, we should stay on Mars. We can’t stay on Lunara forever." She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him slowly on the lips.
He pulled back. "Again. We had this conversation. I can’t stay here. The images still haunt me. I understand if you don’t return, and I won’t have any animosity."
"Don’t be so dumb," she snapped. She tried to push him, but he was too strong for her to move. "Get away from me!"
"Stay. It’s okay, Chloe. Don’t let me stop you. I’m returning to Lunara as soon as possible. I must be near Earth; the feelings I get from the planet ease the turmoil within me."
"Why do you hate Mars so much? Mars is just a place. You never gave it a chance. What is so special about Lunara that makes you safe?"
"Because I can protect you on Lunara. Again, the Earth guards over me somehow. I feel fate wants me there."
"Who asked you to protect me your entire life? I am grown up."
"I made a promise to a little girl that I would watch her."
"She is a woman, now."
"I—"
He stopped as he heard the clang of metal on metal resonate through the hangar, then the sound of beads hitting the cement floor in rapid succession. Seth’s senses tingled as he searched for any sign of movement.
"Did you hear . . ." Chloe said in a low voice.
"I don’t know. Stay close to me." He grabbed her hand. They moved toward the ship and crouched behind the front-landing strut.
"I don’t sense anyone," Chloe whispered.
"Look on the ground. All the orange glitter. I bet that is metalor." Seth stood up and moved toward the mess on the floor.
"Seth," she said, but her urge for him to remain concealed was in vain.
Already over on his knee, he inspected the debris. "Come over here. The hull cooled and must have snapped the rivets and released the bullet fragments."
She bent down beside him. "These bullets hit the Protector back on Lunara?"
He nodded.
"They almost look undamaged," Chloe said, extending her hand to pick one up. She squawked and released the bullet fragment.
"Is it hot?" he said, grabbing her to inspect the injury.
"No, not at all. The metal, the molecules, and the atoms showed themselves to me. When I let go, the sensation stopped. It just startl
ed me."
"Don’t touch it," he said, grabbing a small bag containing cogs and sprockets. He emptied the contents into the tool box, grabbed a pair of pliers, picked up a dozen metalor fragments from the ground, and placed them into the bag. He stowed the bag in his pocket.
He stood back up and noticed Chloe drifting away.
Her face turned pale. Her arm crept toward the welding torch that was secured to the service ladder.
"Remember when I said I couldn’t sense anyone," she said.
He nodded as his eyes darted back and forth.
"We are not alone in the hangar anymore."
He whirled his head around and listened. "Where?"
A blur of a man rushed at him. He had no time to react before a jarring jolt to his shoulder spilled him across the floor. Hearing Chloe scream at the top of her lungs, he twisted on his belly, trying to figure out where the attacker had gone. He had no chance of getting up; two men were over him instantly.
A third man went straight for Chloe. She grabbed the welding cutter and jabbed the flame toward the man’s shoulder.
He howled and staggered back.
Chloe thrust the cutter forward a second time, but the man jumped back a stride, still nursing the burn to his shoulder.
"Seth!" Chloe cried.
A surge of strength coursed through Seth’s muscles.
One of his attackers caught Seth’s right arm behind his back and held firm. As the other attacker stepped toward him with his fist drawn back, Seth kicked his foot toward him, thrust it into his midsection and sent the attacker backward, winded.
If the man on his back hadn’t been so large, Seth could easily have thrown him across the hangar floor. Instead, using the leverage from his legs, Seth thrust his head into the attacker’s nose. His skull crushed the cartilage, creating an unnatural thudding, crunching sound that echoed off the ship above them.
Instantly releasing his grip, the man staggered back.
Seth didn’t allow him to recover. He whirled around with a roundhouse kick into the man’s chest, and sent him spilling across the floor, wheezing for breath. He turned to Chloe, who was several meters away.
Chloe pushed the torch toward the man once again, but the muscular man sidestepped the flame and grabbed her arm. She cried out in agony and released her grip on the welder, which fell to the ground.
With his other arm, the man grabbed her neck and squeezed.
She squawked with a terrifying need. She was defenseless against the man, and Seth was too far away to stop him. The man came at her, drew his arm back, and with a heave punched her square in the forehead.
The unavoidable blow sent her silent to the floor.
Even before she dropped, Seth bolted toward her. The rage inside of him built to the equivalent of a star going supernova. With a single stride, he jumped high into the air—higher than he had ever jumped before—and slammed down hard on the back of Chloe’s attacker, sending the helpless man to the floor. With a series of jabbing punches, Seth pummeled the man into unconsciousness.
Breathing with great heaves, Seth spun to face the other men—another source for him to take his frustrations out on. They stumbled to their feet and dashed for the door. He started for them, then halted and turned back to where Chloe lay.
Chapter 16
Eamonn walked down a number of streets and alleyways and finally stood on the stoop of apartment complex thirty-four. The pelting windstorms of Mars shaded the dim building red—and no amount of cleaning would remove the grime. He gazed up at the towering building’s many windows in a futile attempt to locate the apartment he had walked away from five years ago.
As he entered, he saw that the lobby still had a sterile decor, with no decorations or elaborate paintings. The lowest of the credit workers lived here, and they didn’t spend their credits frivolously. He spotted the directory, and with some dread, found the apartment. He headed for the elevator and pressed the button for level thirty-seven. Why was he dreading seeing her again?
After a short ride up and a long walk down the hallway, he was in front of door number 37-N. He straightened his jacket and shirt four times before he found the courage to knock on the door. No answer came, so after a few seconds, he continued to knock.
Footsteps approached. His heart started to thump.
The door opened. "What is the big idea?" Madelyn said, trailing off in disbelief. She crept to the open side of the door, and with her left foot prevented the door from opening fully.
"Madelyn."
No sooner did he say her name than she tried to slam the door. He put his arm between the frame and the door, but Madelyn didn’t stop and crunched his forearm.
He grimaced.
"Let me talk with you for five minutes," he said through the crack. "That’s all I ask."
"No, we said goodbye a long time ago," she said, the chill in her voice colder than a Martian night. "Move your arm before I break it off."
"Please, I’m begging you," he said. "I was wrong; I see that now. Let me explain, and I’ll be off forever."
She growled, released her grip, and lowered her head. "Come in . . . but don’t get too comfortable."
She opened the door, and he caught his first complete sight of her in almost five years. She was as beautiful to him now as the day they first met. She wore a skintight black top and dark utility pants, and her face was masked with red dirt. As usual, she had wrapped her long hair tightly in a bun just behind and above her right ear. The long high cheeks he had known had sunk slightly in the five years since they had parted, but she was every bit as slender and athletic as he remembered.
"You will excuse my appearance and smell," she said. "My shift just ended in the mines, and I was settling in for the night."
"You look fantastic," he said, trying to move closer to her.
She backed away and headed down the hall to the living area. "I already paid for my shower, and I am not about to pay twice. Make yourself comfortable, but don’t get settled in. I want you out of here after you say what you need to say." She fled into the bathroom, leaving him alone.
He held himself silent as he listened to the dripping of the water. On her wall shelves were many of her favorite books, all in original paper bindings, a rare antique from Earth. He scanned the titles: Mother Goose, The Raven, Beowulf, and a few H. G. Wells stories.
When the shower stopped, he moved over to the couch. Through the frosted door to the bathroom, her silhouette stretched, and he stared guiltily toward her. The curves of her body aroused him. So much so, he had to check himself and make sure he wasn’t going to gawk like a schoolboy when she reappeared. He rubbed his hand on the scar along his forehead. The scar always reminded him of the adventure they had on Titan and how she had cut him. Yet that moment was a fond memory, even with the jagged reminder.
When she finished drying herself, she slung her long bathrobe around her torso and opened the door. "I heard about the attack on Lunara."
"We barely escaped," he said. "My ship is pretty beat up because of it."
Her face soured. "Your ship. I see. You were always good at escaping conflict."
"We had no choice, and I’m not here to boast or debate my escape with you. Gwen Arwell is a member of my crew, and her presence is the reason we survived."
"Can’t hurt the princess."
"Something like that." He looked long into her light brown eyes. "How have you been?"
"Say what you came here to say." The shower had not cooled her anger toward him. She moved past him and sat down on the far end of the couch.
He paused for a moment, taking in the fruity aroma of her bath soaps.
"I want you to be with me on Lunara. I should have insisted you come before . . . I was a fool to let you stay."
"After the way you left me, never."
"Lunara gave me—"
"Never!"
"Lunara gave me a great opportUnity. I couldn’t turn a captainship down. You know my dream—"
"You sh
ould have dreamt about us," she said. "What was I supposed to do? I invested in my mining operation, and I couldn’t leave."
"I couldn’t stay," he said, moving toward her. "I should have married you, and we should be together."
"The timing was awful," she said. She began to sniffle. "I—"
"I missed you." He grabbed her hand; her fingers were soft to the touch. He pulled her hand up to his face and kissed it.
"I lost . . ." she said, pulling it back. She stood and faced the bookcase, purposely keeping her back to him.
He moved over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her aroma tickled his nose. "Lost what?"
She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "All my credits. After you left, our mining operation had an accident. We did not get insurance in place in time, and we had to pay out large settlements to the victims and government fines. I was left with nothing." She turned and looked up at him.
"Why didn’t you contact me?" He brushed her wet hair, but she shrugged him off. "I would have helped."
"I didn’t want to burden you with my failure."
"You would never be a burden to me."
"Well, it is too late to turn back." She moved past him toward the door. "I survived this long without you. I don’t need you anymore. I think you should leave."
"Come with me to Lunara. I haven’t returned to Mars because I didn’t want to face you. Now back, I can’t stop thinking about you. About the regret."
"I won’t leave and let them think you saved me." She pointed toward the door. "Get out."
"No one will think that. I still love you. I hope you still love me." He pulled out a slip of paper from his jacket and placed it on the table. "Here is a guest ticket for the Anniversary Gala at Trivium Port. It pays for your trip to the gala. Please meet me there, I will be expecting you."
With a stone face, she moved over to the door and stood, in silence, holding it open.
He looked into her eyes, but she didn’t respond.
All he could do was hope she would come to the gala. He moved by her and left the apartment. He walked down the hallway and heard the door close silently behind him, the same way it had done five years ago.
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