She leapt up and ran the same way.
I wanted to run away, too.
Because I finally understood how Muffin must have felt. This settlement—my home—didn’t feel so cozy anymore. I felt trapped.
Like a mouse in a cage.
* * *
A few days later, Meems announced it was time to clean out Phinneus’s bedroom. Trey and I volunteered to help Meems sort through his belongings. We would box them up to send to his nephew on Earth on the next supply ship.
While his office was messy, his bedroom was oddly tidy. Everything was in its place, right down to the way he folded his socks (in balls, like cat toys). His bed was still made, corners perfect, sheets tight. I pictured his head lying on the pillow, and my chest felt heavy.
Everywhere, there were reminders that his life had been cut short. A needle with thread next to a button. A book with a dog-eared page on the table next to his bed, waiting to be finished.
I picked up a digi-pic of Phinneus and his wife from the dresser. It was from their wedding. His wife was wearing a big, fluffy dress, and he was in a suit and looked young. He couldn’t have been much older than Albie.
“That was a lovely dress,” Meems said.
We got down to work, sorting papers, clothes, books, and other things.
“What about these?” Trey asked Meems, holding up a book titled The Astrobiologists’ Almanac.
“Anything that’s research- or Mars-based stays here,” she said.
He put the book in the Stay pile and kept going.
While Trey and Meems went through Phinneus’s closet, I unpacked his dresser. There wasn’t much worth sending to Earth—it was mostly clothes. There was a T-shirt that said “Mars’s First Farmer: I’m Raising Dust.”
Deep in the back of his sock drawer, I found something unexpected—a notebook. I flipped through the first few pages. It looked like a scientific diary, about the weather and different seed tests.
Then I saw this notation:
What a wonderful day! Bell has arrived in our settlement.
We love him already.
My heart tripped.
“Meems,” I said, “can I keep this?”
“What is it?” she asked.
I showed her the page.
She read it and looked at me.
“Of course you can keep it,” she said, and smiled. “After all, you were his family, too.”
* * *
That night, I settled down under my cozy quilt, with Leo asleep on top by my feet, and read Phinneus’s diary.
Reading Phinneus’s words made me feel like he was in the room with me. I could hear his voice in every line. He had such a funny sense of humor.
Broccoli harvest successful!
A week later, he wrote:
Broccoli banned from menu. Commander Sai says everyone is gassy.
(Yours truly included.)
Other observations about life on Mars were sprinkled among his scientific notes, which mostly focused on hydration levels, the moons, test samples of algae paper. There was a tiny folded note that said “I’m sorry” with no signature. Adorable doodles of the cats in the margins.
I could feel his excitement and worry in every word. So much was riding on him. There would be no survival without food.
This is such a heavy responsibility.
He worked so hard. Harder than I’d ever imagined. Sometimes he got up in the middle of the night to make sure everything was working properly. His handwriting was neat and easy to read, although it became loopy when he was excited about something.
MARS HOURS
CROP
STATUS
18:25
Lettuces
Sufficient water
24:15
Lettuces
Leak—clog?
24:30
Lettuces
Leak mitigated
03:15
Lettuces
AIW
It took me a while to understand his shorthand. But when I did, it made so much sense. “AIW” was short for “All is well.”
Halfway through, the diary changed: fewer scientific notations and more observations about people.
Meems received news that her first grandchild was born, and she cried all day.
She will never hold him.
Another time, he wrote:
Today is Rose’s birthday.
Happy birthday, sweetheart.
Wait for me.
Two dozen pages later, he started writing about the “Terrible Tragedy.”
We buried Lissa today.
Mars weeps.
And a few pages later, he wrote:
There is no reasoning with Sai over this tragedy. He is blind to everything but his own grief and listens to Command.
Months passed before he started writing again.
Nothing is the same. I miss our friends dearly. We are so terribly alone now. The children are the only thing that keeps us going. Their happy smiles are a reprieve from our loneliness.
This must have been when they cut off communication with the other settlements. But some passages made me wonder.
It makes no sense to me. Petyr adored Lissa. He would never have left her without a reason. And Commander Laurent has an unshakable character. I do not believe what they say. There is more to this story.
Then the diary ended.
* * *
The next morning was laundry day. I went to Meems’s room. She beamed at me when she opened her door.
“I’ll do your sheets,” I told her.
“You’re such a good boy,” she said.
I really wasn’t good; I had questions.
After the dirty sheets were in a bundle by the door, I worked up my courage.
“I’m confused,” I told her.
“About what, Kitten?” she asked.
“Lissa,” I said. “I read Phinneus’s diary. Who was Petyr?”
“I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” she said. “He’s Russian. A geologist. Phinneus was very fond of him.”
“What does he have to do with Lissa’s death?”
Meems sighed heavily. “I should have expected this.”
“Why did they leave Lissa behind?”
She smiled sadly. “I have no idea. Only Commander Laurent and Petyr know what happened, and we have never spoken to them about it.”
“What?”
“You have to understand, it was a very difficult time,” she said. “There was talk of war on Earth. Sides were being chosen over Antarctica. Sai was under incredible pressure. Command ordered us to cease all contact with the other countries. But he ignored it for a time. After all, we were literally worlds away. We continued on as we had from the beginning. We traded and socialized and conducted joint missions.”
She looked down at her hands. They looked so wrinkled suddenly.
“Commander Laurent was out in a rover with Lissa and Petyr, collecting samples,” she continued. “An alert went out, saying their rover had gone missing. You know the rest. Sai and Eliana found Lissa. She died from her injuries.”
“Why didn’t you try to find out what happened?”
“Sai suspended all communications with the other countries,” she said simply. “We tried to reason with him, but he was inconsolable. Lissa was his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown up with her father, Will. Sai had promised to take care of Lissa on Mars. He’d loved her like she was his own daughter. After Lissa died and he contacted her parents, he didn’t leave his room for days.”
“So you still don’t know what happene
d?”
She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “And I suppose we never will.”
I finally understood what Phinneus had tried to tell me about weeds. Our settlement was overgrown with bad feelings—weeds—from long ago.
And they were strangling us to death.
DATE: 10.28.2091
FROM: CDR Dexter
TO: US Terrestrial Command
MESSAGE: Situation Report
Morale is low.
Please advise.
Sai Dexter, COMMANDER
Expeditionary & Settlement Team
United States Territory, Mars
I dragged through my after-supper chores. I was exhausted; I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in days, and it wasn’t due to Albie’s snoring. He had finally moved into Phinneus’s old room, and Trey was back with me. It was because every time I tried to fall asleep, my mind raced. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lissa, Commander Laurent, Petyr, and Sai. It was like a puzzle with a missing piece. I knew what the outline looked like, but the middle was confusing.
I yawned as I did my rounds. I was on dust duty, and Leo trailed after me. We’d discovered how he’d gotten to the French settlement: there was a hole in an air duct that connected to the train tunnel. Sai had sealed it up tight, so now Leo was stuck here, just like us. I think he was sad about not getting any more tasty treats.
The corridors were quiet. I missed the noise of the French settlement most of all. Someone was always talking or laughing or arguing. I even missed the sound of the baby crying.
As usual, my last stop was the train tunnel. I had just emptied the dust when I saw a folded note taped to the outside of the door. It hadn’t been there yesterday evening when I’d done my rounds, so someone must have placed it there early this morning.
I unfolded it and scanned the words quickly.
Bell,
Please help us! Come tomorrow. It’s urgent!
—Amélie
My bucket fell to the ground, forgotten, as I ran.
* * *
All the kids huddled around my bed, looking at the note.
“What did Sai say when you showed it to him?” Flossy asked me.
“He thought I wrote it,” I said. “That I was trying to trick him into letting us visit the French settlement.”
“You?” Vera scoffed. “If anyone would write a note like this, it would be me.”
“Where did you find it?” Trey asked.
“In the train tunnel. It was taped to the back of the door,” I said.
Vera flopped down on my bed. “Well, what are we going to do?”
“What can we do?” Flossy asked. “Sai doesn’t even believe Amélie wrote the note. Which, by the way, he should. I’ve seen Bell’s handwriting.”
“It’s not that bad,” I protested.
Albie looked worried. “What do you think’s going on at the French settlement? What if they’re sick? What about Layla?”
“Why don’t you talk to Sai, Flossy?” Trey suggested. “He’ll listen to you.”
It was a good idea. Sai respected Flossy.
“Right,” she said, nodding. “I’ll go find him.”
We didn’t have to wait long. She was back less than five minutes later.
“Well?” Vera asked.
She shook her head. “Sai said no. He said even if Bell didn’t make it up, it was probably one of the other French kids, playing a prank.”
“But they wouldn’t do that!” I insisted.
It didn’t matter. Sai’s mind was already made up.
* * *
The next morning on my dust rounds, I lingered in the algae farm. I saw traces of Phinneus everywhere: in the wall charts noting the water’s pH balance, in the cookie jar on his desk, in the container of Earth soil.
My eyes landed on Phinneus’s ratty blue sweater, hanging on the back of his chair. I picked it up and hugged it tight. It still smelled like him—like Earth soil and algae. Memories of Phinneus flooded out. His endless curiosity. The way his eyes brightened when he talked about plants. How he made funny voices for characters when he read to me.
Commander Laurent was right. Good memories were important. They kept us going. But the grown-ups had forgotten that. They couldn’t remember what life was like before everything went wrong. They needed someone to remind them.
Someone like me.
* * *
It was lunchtime, and we were sitting at a table. Salty Bill ladled stew into my bowl.
“I had the best bread in the French settlement,” I told him.
His head snapped up. “A baguette?”
“You were right! It was so good,” I said.
“I told you.”
“Remember that amazing dessert they made?” Meems mused. “It was custard with dried cherries in a piecrust. I dream about that dessert sometimes.”
“Did they have parties back then?” I asked.
“There were wonderful parties!” Eliana said.
“The Halloween party was one for the ages,” Darby said.
“I seem to recall Sai dancing,” Meems said with a mischievous smile.
Sai frowned. “I’m sure I didn’t.”
“Tell me more stories,” I prompted them.
And that’s all I needed to do.
Meems and Eliana and Darby and Salty Bill couldn’t stop reminiscing about friends, fun, and food. They talked about silly pranks they played and adventures they had. Sai’s expression got stonier and stonier.
I took a deep breath and said, “Are we going to help them?”
“Help who?” Salty Bill asked.
“The French settlement. They’re in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Darby asked.
I pulled out the note. “They left us this.”
Sai shook his head. “The children made that up—”
“Let me see it,” Eliana demanded.
I handed it to her. She read it and passed it to Darby.
“Where did you find this?” she asked.
“It was in the train tunnel,” I said.
Meems had the note now. She scanned it and looked at Sai.
“Really, Sai,” she said, sounding like a disappointed parent.
“Bell wrote that,” Sai said.
“You think I don’t know my Bell’s handwriting?” she countered.
His looked down quickly, as if embarrassed.
“Did you know that lions without a pride don’t live long?” I asked.
“What?” Sai asked.
“We’re like lions,” I explained. “We’re alone on Mars. We need the people in the other settlements to survive. We need a pride.”
“Bell’s right,” Meems said. “This has gone on long enough, Sai. They saved us. Now it’s our turn.”
“But Command—” he protested.
Eliana got up and walked to the door.
“Where are you going?” Sai asked.
“To make sure the train is charged,” she said.
“Right behind you, Peanut Butter,” Darby said, following his wife.
“I’ll get my med kit,” Meems called.
I flushed with happiness.
“Wait!” Sai shouted. “We’re not going anywhere!”
Everyone froze.
Then Salty Bill stood up and crossed his arms. “Commander, I’m not cooking another meal until we go to the French settlement and check on them. Understood?”
Sai’s shoulders drooped.
“Copy that,” he said.
Not that Sai ever had a choice. Like he always said, the most important person really was the cook.
* * *
“I can’t believe we’re back here,” Trey
whispered to me as we sat next to each other in the train.
“At least we’re not alone this time,” I said with a grin.
Everyone was packed into Percy with us. Sai had radioed ahead to tell them we were all coming. And we weren’t going empty-handed. There were boxes of emergency supplies, like glow sticks, food, water, and bandages. Salty Bill even brought a pie he had baked the day before.
When we arrived at the French settlement, Layla answered the door. Her face was pale and she was wearing Albie’s ball cap.
“Albie!” she cried, throwing herself into his arms. “We’d almost lost hope!”
Albie hugged her tight. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I’ll show you! Quickly!” she urged, pulling him down the hallway, walking fast.
The rest of us followed them until finally we were standing outside the recreation room.
“In here,” Layla said, and slipped through the door.
We quickly filed into the dark room after her.
“Where’s the emergen—” Sai said. But before he could finish his sentence, the lights suddenly flicked on to reveal a room full of people. A huge sign that said HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VERA! was strung from the ceiling, and there was a birthday cake.
“Surprise!” everyone shouted.
Vera’s stunned expression proved it was actually possible to keep a secret on Mars.
“Bell!” Amélie shouted, running over to me.
“Amélie,” I cried as we hugged.
“So this was all a trick to get us to come here?” Sai asked.
Amélie rolled her eyes at him. “It wasn’t a trick. We needed your help. You can’t have a surprise party without the birthday girl!”
Meems snorted a laugh.
Sai turned and glared at her.
The Lion of Mars Page 15