"Jinx!" Samantha exclaimed as she bolted up sloshing water over the side of the tub to the floor. "You scared me half to death. How did you get in here, and why are you here?"
"My father allowed me to leave my apartment—with an escort, of course." Samantha didn’t reply, waiting for her next words.
"I didn’t mean to hurt you," Gwen continued, "but I had to save Seth. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. Can you accept my apology?"
"I don’t—"
"My father has allowed me into the MSA." Gwen grinned as a surge of previously unexpended joy rippled over her skin. Her first goal had been accomplished; her father had allowed her into the MSA. She felt a purpose and a confidence that hadn’t been there since this began, and it felt good. "I’ll be doing public relations and other smaller duties until I can earn the trust of everyone again. If he can forgive me, surely you can."
Samantha continued her silence; her eyes narrowed, and her jaw hardened.
Gwen stepped with caution on the wet floor, grabbed a towel from the rack, and whipped it dry. "I mean it. You’re my best friend."
"I’m not talking to you," Samantha said, sharply.
"You just asked me a question."
"I just decided to stop talking to you." She crossed her arms, turned her head away from Gwen, and stared at the wall.
For the first time, Gwen could see what she had done to Samantha. The red welt she thought she had given her during the escape attempt turned out to be a large, splintering burn. Gwen moved over to the medicine cabinet, pulled out a first aid kit, and opened it. She knelt next to the tub. Samantha continued to ignore her as she dabbed her wound with the gauze.
"What are you doing?"
"I’m fixing my mistake. Who is treating this burn? There is pus all over it."
"No one. I’ve been locked up in my office since you attacked me, doing paperwork and making sure orders are filled. Doctors are busy with other injuries." Samantha winced when the antiseptic stung her.
"It won’t do any good if this gets infected. I’m glad you are talking to me again."
"Reluctantly," Samantha replied. "How did you get into my apartment? You never answered."
"Turn your head back. I can’t clean it if you are turned toward me." She dabbed the wound with the washcloth. "I had father open the door for me. I didn’t want to show up unannounced."
"So you find me in the bathtub, naked, where I’m at my most vulnerable and where I can’t just run away. Pretty smart."
"I didn’t wait for you to take a bath to come in. We were roommates for years."
"It’s not that. I didn’t want you to see this horrible scar on my neck. The blood super heated and traveled through my veins. That is why it is all splintered. The medic said it was a rare side effect of an electrostick. Something about iron levels, blah blah blah."
"I’m so sorry. I had to get to Seth. I didn’t mean for anything permanent."
"I should have treated you better and told you everything. None of this would have happened." She pulled her arms around Gwen and hugged her.
"Watch it, you are getting me all wet," she said. "I just got these pants."
"I still owe you one for scaring me," Samantha said. "Time to pay up."
"Hey wait! Don’t think about it!"
"Too late." As Samantha pulled her in, Gwen lost her balance and fell into the tub.
Splash!
Chapter 11
The tugboat, a stout vessel with clawed treads, bit into the loose Martian soil, dragging the Protector safely under the covered camouflage of the Aethpisian Air Command’s hangars. From the air, Eamonn wondered if he had landed in the right location. But from the ground, the full spectrum of the air command’s operation could be seen; air hangars lined a rocky bluff, and several ground-to-air gun turrets blended into the interior of the terrain.
He stood at the exit port of the Protector, dressed in camouflage, a red and brown speckled tunic that matched the surface colors of Mars. His breathing mask fit snuggly against his nose.
Light was sparse in the dust-saturated sky. The barren terrain and the cries in the wind created a nagging feeling that he shouldn’t have come; or at least, he should have thought the logistics out a little longer than the four hours Sarah gave him.
He rubbed his freshly grown beard, itchy and already dust-ridden. The so-called final touch by Shannon was his colored hair, a dirty blond, which still made him uneasy about his ability to blend in. They would surely recognize him through his disguise. His fame had spread across Mars since the Battle for Lunara.
He shook his head to ease his worries. He had come to assassinate the man who killed Madelyn. His purpose was clear. The vision of her death and the recollection of what Shannon had said about revenge entered his mind constantly. Would it fill the void he was experiencing? He didn’t know, but avenging Madelyn’s honor, taken away by the chancellor, was worth the risk and potential anguish.
"For Madelyn," he muttered into the hollowing wind. He had no doubts or worries when he thought about her.
He adjusted his breathing mask and took deep breaths to acclimate to the atmosphere. He signaled Shannon to follow him across the airfield toward the command center. Obvious skepticism surrounded their arrival. They had landed on the farthest pad, and many prying eyes fixed on him as they walked past various hangars.
He overheard whispers about their purpose, but none were correct.
From under her hood, Shannon took a measured gaze of the landscape. Her somber face depressed him. Maybe it was the loss of sleep or the emptiness from having been away from her son for weeks, but never had he seen such anguish. Since they broke the atmosphere of Mars, the greater reality of the war had weighed on her. Her usual talkative self was muted into an eerily quiet tone.
After a short walk around the last hanger, they came upon two armed guards, pointing rifles toward them. They stopped. Eamonn scanned the insignia on their crests, noting the Aethpisian double links. "Under the order of Minister McCloud, we have come."
The guard relaxed a bit. "We were expecting you. The minister sent word. Come inside."
The guards lowered their rifles and directed them through the double doors into the main facility. The howling of the wind slackened to a dull roar. The warm air, sweeping over him from above, soothed his body.
"Welcome to the AAC. My name is Commander Korral. We expected you here over three hours ago."
"The space traffic delayed us," he said. "We wanted to come in unseen. The MSA had a transport ship on the far side of the planet leaving for somewhere toward the asteroid belt. My ship took full readings. Just dump the logs for the last few hours."
"Thank you. All the intelligence we can gather at this point is crucial."
"Is there fighting still?"
"Depends on your definition of fighting. Some small skirmishes remain. Either side is testing the strength of the perimeter. Luckily, for both sides, the war has been fought civilly. No bombardments on civilians or civilian buildings."
"Thank goodness," Shannon said. "I have loved ones still in Aethpis colony."
"We all do," Korral replied.
"When can we retrieve our supplies?" Eamonn said, rubbing his beard again. The course dust chafed between his finger and his cheek. "I want to leave right away."
"I set up a room for the both of you. We have a blackout shield in place until the morning. You will have to wait."
"Morning!" Eamonn exclaimed. "Why?"
"Reports just came in of MSA flyovers in the area. Our top priority is to keep this facility secret as long as possible."
"Fine," Eamonn said. He didn’t like the idea of sitting around, especially when he had someone waiting to meet them. The rendezvous was a few days away, but before they met with a stranger, he wanted time to scout the colony. He wasn’t about to trust anyone. Even Sarah had her limitations. If a trap was set, he wanted options on how to leave. "How do we get out of here when morning arrives?"
"You can stow aw
ay on one of our supply ships, staging as a medical convoy. After that, you are on your own."
Chapter 12
Gwen sat silently in the corner as the nonaligned leaders made their way into the room. The Aethpisian side was empty aside from three of the twenty seats. Loyalty to her father had won them their seats—and their lives. She scoffed as she thought about the promise he had made to everyone in the room: power, resources, glory, and who knows what else.
In the deal she reached with her father, and in turn her father with his new council, he told her the council would forgive her. So here she was, ready to be forgiven, but she doubted they would realize her motives. In their eyes, she was the person who let free the two reasons many of them had joined.
She kept reflecting on the last few days she had spent with Samantha. Their friendship had been rekindled by her search to understand the MSA. Samantha even allowed her to help with some of her work. It was nothing of high secrecy, mostly inventory work, food and medical supplies, the sort of work that any clerk did. But Gwen felt useful again, and proving her allegiance was worth the trivial work.
The MSA and the Alliance pulled at her, competing for her allegiance—something she had never questioned until the past few weeks. But the lines blurred now, and she wasn’t sure which side she was on anymore, although she did know that she wouldn’t cause trouble. She was finished with pulling on the thin threads of diplomacy and trying to right other people’s wrongs. Her first goal was to earn the trust of her father and her best friend, even if that meant helping the MSA. She judged the MSA as wrong in the beginning, but little by little, she was beginning to see their logic and why her father acted the way he did. She needed more time to understand her father’s intentions.
The general roar began to subside as the leaders finally found their seats. Her father took his place at the podium. He scanned the crowd, and his pause told her that he wondered how they would take the news he was about to deliver. He had changed over the last two years, but she recognized his subtle, ingrained traits.
He spoke: "The first order of business is to announce the acceptance of my daughter Gwendolyn Arwell of Zephyria into the MSA hierarchy."
She heard some of the crowd cheering, but shouts and inaudible complaints directed toward her father overwhelmed her. "What is she doing in here?" one particularly vocal leader of some wayward nonaligned colony shouted. "She is a traitor."
"Don’t call my daughter a traitor," the chancellor boomed. Taking long strides from the podium, he moved down and stood directly opposite the shrinking man. "Listen," he said, glaring into the man’s lowered face, "the Alliance coerced and threatened my daughter into using her access to help Seth Smith and Chloe Jones. She was an unfortunate victim in this entire situation. She pleaded for us to listen to her story. We conducted our investigation, and Thomas Cross can verify its truth. And I’m glad to tell you, we caught and disciplined the ones who held her under the barrel of their guns. Isn’t that right, Senior Liaison Burns?"
A lie, all of it is a lie, Gwen thought with a smirk.
Samantha rose from her seat and addressed the room. "It’s true. I have the report from Thomas Cross, which you may see at the end of the briefing. The Alliance forced Gwen into doing those awful things. They told her if she didn’t, they would execute a group of children. How could she not do what she did? I challenge any of you to tell children they are about to die because you won’t help them."
The crowd started to rumble a bit, sensing something was missing. Most of them directed their attention to Gwen. They wanted her to waver, and she almost did, but her diplomatically trained mind revealed nothing. They hadn’t told her anything about this ruse before the meeting. She pressed her lips together, trying hard to keep her composure. She stood and walked at a measured pace toward the podium. "I want to say that I’m sorry for what I did. Those children…" She paused, thinking about compounding the lie, but she had to prove her loyalty to them. "They were all so scared. I couldn’t see them harmed. But thanks to my father, I returned them to their families. I promise you."
With many pairs of eyes on her, Gwen felt her hands start to tremble. She thought she had blown the entire ruse, but it turned out that she was mistaken. To her surprise, several officials began to clap.
Then, more surprising than the crowd’s reaction, Hans Bauer stood and walked to her side. He shouted into the crowd. "They speak the truth. I saw those soldiers force her, at gunpoint, to lead them around the medical center. They tormented her, and Gwen Arwell should be revered as a hero."
Gwen could hardly believe him, and thinking about it for a split second, she didn’t believe him. Why did he give credence to her story? Of all the people on Mars, her actions should have upset him the most.
He smiled at her, reminding her of the veiled smile of the Mona Lisa. Behind this perfect picture, he knew something she didn’t know about the deception regarding her role in the escape; perhaps he had a deal with her father, possibly even involving her.
The crowd cheered again. With their rousing support, she tossed aside her worries, for she couldn’t help but smile. She was back with her people. The "Princess" had her crown again.
Chapter 13
"I don’t like the idea of us just sitting here while our contact comes to meet us," Shannon said. "And the pillows in this motel are rocks."
"Calm down." Eamonn rubbed his hand along his face to straighten the itchy stubble, working his way up to his scar—a memento of the last Great War on Mars between the raiders and the civilized colonies. "He will be here in the morning." He leaned against the window frame and gazed out into the market of the nonaligned colony of Pollux. Nervously, he tapped with his fingers against the wall.
"Can you stop tapping?" she snapped. "You can’t be more annoying."
"If you would stop being so jittery, I wouldn’t be so edgy."
"I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have come on your crusade for Madelyn." She turned her back to him and pulled the sheet over her shoulder. "Wake me in four hours."
"Shannon," he pleaded, but her stubbornness would ensure that she ignored any attempts at reconciliation. He let her sleep.
After they had changed positions through the night, Eamonn awoke feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all, and that did nothing to sooth his nerves. He stirred from the bed, seeing Shannon staring out of the window.
"Anything the matter?" he asked.
"Come look at this," she replied.
He sprang up to her side the next instant.
A man came down the market way, slowly and deliberately, acting as if he was on an early morning stroll. He paused, and his hawk-like eyes scanned the area, making sure of each step he took. He moved up to their door and knocked.
Eamonn’s heart pounded. He was at front of the door instantly but stopped and turned toward Shannon. He signaled her with a nod to be ready. For what, he didn’t know, but if the trap was set, this was the time to spring it. He turned his ear toward the door and called out. "Are you here with the delivery I ordered?"
"One breakfast with all the fixings, hold the algae paste," the voice said, muffled. Shannon relaxed, hearing the correct passwords, and she sank into the chair. Eamonn pulled the door open, and the man hurried into the room.
"Hello," Eamonn said.
The man gestured at him to remain silent. He was an older man, much older than they had both expected, well into his seventies. They watched the bulky man lumber around the room, placing four expanding poles into the corners. He threw open the flap of his jacket and pulled out a small case. Opening his case, he activated the farthest switch from him.
Eamonn peeked, reading the words "Scrambler."
"I’m sorry for the abruptness. We are now shielded from any eavesdropping devices if someone is watching on a broad range device," the strange man said.
"What is your name?" Eamonn asked.
"Not important. Only my allegiance to Minister Cortez is of any relevance to you."
"
McCloud."
"Yeah, whatever. She is Cortez to me," he said. "Here are the supplies: a sniper rifle with ten rounds of ammo, MSA credits and IDs, and a supply of food rations."
"Will the gun pass the scanners?"
"Yes, it is split into pieces, well shielded, and disguised in the design of this small travel case used for toiletries."
"Very good. I expected you to say that." He picked up the IDs. "These look decent. Are they registered with the MSA database?"
"Naturally. I’m not an amateur."
"Nicely done." Eamonn looked over the IDs. The names read "Eric and Stacy White." He tossed Shannon an ID and a stack of MSA credits.
"White—I bet you are happy to hear that," Shannon muttered. She put her ID in her pocket and stuffed the credits in her satchel.
"Something I missed?" the man said.
Eamonn shook his head and rubbed his beard. "Don’t worry."
The man frowned. "Stop rubbing your beard so much. It’s like you only had it for a few days."
"I have only had it for a few days."
"That is my point. You are supposed to be undercover," the man said, collecting his gear. "I must get going. Good luck to you, and don’t stay in this motel room another night. Keep moving until your mission is complete."
"Going?" Eamonn said. "Aren’t you going to help us further?"
"I did my part. You carry out the rest of the mission."
"We’re not sure when or where to do it."
"The minister told me your story. You’ll figure it out. Be patient, and don’t move with haste. Keep a low profile. The both of you." The man turned toward the door and exited the motel room leaving Eamonn stranded with no idea how to carry out a plan he had promised the minister he would fulfill.
Chapter 14
Gwen admired the view from her apartment. In the sky, the glowing blue and gray speck of Earth gleamed. As she reflected on the day’s events, she smiled at her admission into the MSA and the warm welcome she received. The Martian news channels were saturated with her heroics, and the people ate it up. She wondered how Lunarans would perceive this act.
Lunara: The Original Trilogy Page 43