Mars Rising (Saving Mars Series 6)

by Cidney Swanson

  “I might even be persuaded to part with another one of me ships, should ye make a donation of the first one,” said Cameron, swirling the liquid in her glass. “A fine pilot like Jessamyn Jaarda shouldn’t be without a fine vessel.”

  Jess glanced at Pavel. He was drawing circles in a patch of powdered sugar spilled on the surface of the dark table. The circles made Jess think of orbitals, calculations, flight. A ship. A ship of her own! And … Mars! Her heart beat hummingbird-fast. She had to force herself to pay attention to what Cameron was saying.

  “Well, we made the request, anyway, and the Secretary General was very polite about it, but I told Brian he shouldn’t get his hopes up too high.”

  “Marsian feelings about Terran guests are … complicated at the moment,” said Harpreet.

  “Oh, aye,” said Cameron, taking another swig of pale amber liquid.

  “He’d make a great ambassador,” said Pavel. “He’s got my vote.”

  Jess, catching the flow of the conversation once more, said, “He’s got my vote, too.” Although Pavel was more likely to exert actual influence in this case. He had the ear of both the Governor General and the Viceroy, and the Terran population had long since given him their stamp of approval. As Lucca had noted. Jessamyn felt a tingle run along her arms, thinking about how Lucca almost stole Pavel’s body.

  “Jessamyn?” asked Harpreet.

  “Hmm?” Jess snapped back to the present. Mars. A ship. Pavel safe. “Sorry.”

  “Have ye any message for me cousin, then, before I’m off?” asked Cameron.

  Jess smiled. “Just my love. And my thanks for all he’s doing.” She rose to give the clan chief a tight hug, thanking her as well.

  Pavel had switched to marking dots in the powdered sugar, but he rose and saw Cameron to the door, thumping her back when they hugged.

  “Well now,” said Harpreet, “I’m sure the two of you have plenty to discuss.” She looked pointedly at Pavel. “And I have a meeting with the Governor General.”

  The old Raider departed, leaving Jess and Pavel in solitary possession of the quiet room.

  Jess, squealing with exuberance, took Pavel in her arms and kissed him so hard their teeth knocked together, which made both of them laugh and shook off some of Pavel’s odd solemnity.

  “Just wait ‘til I get you alone on that ship, millions of kilometers from home,” she said.

  Pavel traced her jaw and neck with a finger, a soft smile on his face. “You want to see pictures of the ship yard?” he asked.

  Jess nodded eagerly, and Pavel pulled up a series of pictures, graphs, and diagrams on the table wafer. “Brian’s included a timeline, estimating how fast they can get the first ship up and running. If they follow this schedule, they’ll beat the return of the ships Lucca sent by a month.”

  Jess scanned through the data. “I’ll have to run some calculations,” she murmured, “but if they stick to this timetable, I think we can make the orbital transfer at the optimal point in this annum’s window.” It was more than she’d let herself dream of. “I wonder … could we get there in time for the New Annum?”

  “Jess,” said Pavel.

  She tapped on the wafer. “Let me put in a few numbers, here.” It had been weeks since she’d paid any attention to what time of year it was back home. Hades, it might have been months since she’d looked.

  “Jessamyn,” Pavel said again.

  “Hmm?” She kissed his temple lightly and returned her attention to her calculations. Shizer! Unless Brian sped things up, they would miss the New Annum by just days.

  “Something’s been brought to my attention,” he said. “And … well, it might be better if I didn’t go to Mars for the time being.”

  Jess turned, alarmed. “What are you talking about? Of course you’re going to Mars. We’ve talked about this for … forever.”

  “I know. And I want to go.”

  “Then you’re going. Of course you’re going.” She returned her attention to the images of Cameron’s newly acquired shipyard.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Jessamyn fought the uneasy sensation in her stomach. Not that simple? Of course it was that simple.

  “When I get on that ship,” said Jessamyn, “you’re coming with me. Do you think I’d go to Mars without you?”

  Pavel wrapped an arm around her waist. Whispered in her ear. “I know you would.”

  Jess pulled back, a small flare of anger at his response, so certain. “How can you say that? How can you think for one minute I’d want to go home without you?”

  “Jess,” he said, half a sigh. He ran small circles on her back.

  She pulled away, folding her arms. “Of course I’m not going without you.”

  Silence. They both knew Jess had to return to Mars. It was either that or ruin interplanetary relations before they’d gotten off the ground.

  “Mei Lo sent me a comm.”

  “About my extradition?”

  “No,” said Pavel. “About me.”

  Jessamyn’s eyes narrowed.

  “Mei Lo asked me to function as … as an advocate for Marsian interests,” said Pavel. “Here. On Earth.”

  “What? Since when does Mars need an advocate?” Jessamyn crossed her arms.

  “Someone who loves Mars, and who was here, with boots on the ground, could do a lot to make sure Marsian interests are respected. The world is changing, Jess.” Pavel shook his head. “Both our worlds are changing. There’s no going back to pretending we don’t know you exist.”

  Jess wanted to shout that this was exactly what she’d been afraid of. That she never, never should have told Terrans she was from Mars. But that wasn’t true. Mars would be months short of getting blown to oblivion if she’d remained silent.

  Pavel continued. “People on Earth are going to have opinions about Mars. About … contact. And immigration. And trade. And whose laws govern which situations. Things like your extradition.”

  “Shizer!” muttered Jess. She stood and began pacing. “It’s not like it’ll come to extradition. I’m going voluntarily.”

  “I know, Jess. But something else will come up. You know it will. And Mei Lo wants to make sure Marsian interests are well-represented down here when the next something does come up. And, well, people here listen to me.”

  That was true. Pavel would make a great Marsian advocate.

  But that didn’t matter; he couldn’t stay behind. Not now, not when she’d fought so hard and been through so much and lost so much. It was a horrible request. How could Mei Lo think of asking? She blinked back her tears and faced Pavel.

  “Tell her you won’t do it,” said Jessamyn. “Tell her to find someone else. Tell her you’re the wrong person for the job. Harpreet could do it. People here listen to her, too.”

  Pavel smiled softly, only half his mouth turning up. “Harpreet deserves to go home, don’t you think?”

  Of course she does. The words hovered on her lips, but she wouldn’t speak them.

  “Besides,” said Pavel. “Mei Lo said Harpreet’s role on Mars would be similar to my role on Earth, the way she pictured it. Someone on each planet with deep sympathies for the other planet.”

  That was Harpreet, all right.

  Plus, Jessamyn knew no one on Mars could do a better job of persuading Marsians that Terrans weren’t the enemy any more. Terrans had fired on Mars. Recently. Convincing Marsians that not all Terrans were like the Chancellor? Jess couldn’t do that. But Harpreet could. She might be the only Marsian who could. Tears welled up in Jessamyn’s eyes, and she turned away so Pavel wouldn’t see them.

  “In a way, it’s what I’ve always wanted,” said Pavel. “Even before I knew anyone was still alive on Mars. Ever since Mom and Dad showed me the funny yellow star that was really a world.”

  “You wanted to stay on Earth ever since you first saw Mars?” Jess asked. “Because that makes so much sense.”

  “I’m saying it all wrong,” Pavel said, sighing. “I’m just trying
to say Mars has always been my … my calling. And nothing would make me prouder than to make sure Mars Colonial stays independent, stays … Mars, you know?”

  Jess felt like she was being stuffed into a too-tight walkout suit. She could feel herself running out of objections. She threw out a last one. “But you’ve never even been to Mars.” Her voice cracked as she spoke.

  Pavel got up from the table, crossing swiftly to her. Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, pushed her hair back where it had fallen over one eye. Took her face in both hands and looked straight in her eyes.

  “Of course I’ve been to Mars, Jess. I’ve seen Mount Cha Su Bao through your eyes. I’ve grown up in the New Houston school system through your stories. I’ve taken thousands of lousy clean-stall showers and scrubbed and scrubbed that dirt that gets under your nails and turns them permanently orange. I’ve been misfitted for walkout boots, sold a bum helmet, burned through two pressure suits in half an annum—Hades and Aphrodite, Jess—I even dream about my daily life on Mars.”

  “You … dream you’re on Mars?”

  Pavel nodded solemnly. “All the time. Last night I was taking a planet hopper in to have Crusty give it a once over.”

  The tears pushed out over her lower lids. “Oh, Pavel,” she said, her breath catching on his name.

  He released her face and wrapped strong, warm arms around her. She felt his body pressing into hers, solid, present, hers. He spoke softly into her hair, her neck, kissing her as he spoke. “Someone has to do it, Jess. Mars is worth fighting for. Don’t you see that?”

  Her head nestled against his chest, Jessamyn stared at the buffet offerings: food gone cold, the fat congealing in tiny puddles on the silver platters. “So, you’re, like, asking my permission or something?”

  “I’m not asking you for anything.” He laughed softly. “I would’ve thought that much was obvious by now.”

  His tone was full of emotion, but with her face buried in his chest, she couldn’t see what the emotion was. Frustration? Anger, maybe? Before she could figure it out, Pavel spoke again.

  “I have to do this because … because …” Pavel’s voice cracked and he whispered the next words. “Because I love you, Jess, and I want your home to be safe.”

  Her throat constricted. Pavel was her home. Mars was her world, obviously, but how could Mars be home if Pavel wasn’t there with her? This was all wrong. This was horrible.

  Suddenly, intensely, she needed to fly.

  “Do you know if your aunt has anything fast in that hangar of hers?”

  Pavel nodded, his chin grazing the side of her head. “You need some time in the sky alone?”

  Jess breathed out—half a laugh. “Not alone,” she said. “It sounds like I’m going to have more than enough time alone in the future. Will you come with me now?”

  Pavel pulled back from their embrace. One side of his mouth tugged up. “I’d love to.”

  Ten minutes later, Jess was in the pilot’s seat of a sporty little flyer. It couldn’t take them up very high, but it was fast. Neither of them spoke for the first hour. What was there to say? Jess had compelling reasons to go to Mars; Pavel had compelling reasons to stay. It wasn’t fair. But, as her mom said, “Life’s not fair, Jessamyn, and anyone who tells you otherwise wants to part you from your credits.”

  Jess had turned the craft toward the southeast. The Atlantic sparkled below them, silver and grey, occasionally flecked with white. She hadn’t logged a flight plan; she didn’t need to in Lucca’s craft. The Chancellor’s “fly anywhere” status had apparently not been revoked yet.

  “Are we going to see Cameron?” Pavel asked, breaking the silence between them.

  “No,” said Jess. “But you guessed the right location.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “I’d like to swim in the sea again. In those volcanic pools on Madeira.”

  Pavel nodded and silence fell between them once more.

  She wove her way back through parts of their earlier conversation, catching at last on the moment where she’d lost the thread of his emotion. She’d wanted to know if he was asking her permission to stay on Earth as an advocate for Mars.

  And his response: I’m not asking you for anything.

  And he wasn’t. Wasn’t asking her for anything. Except to give him up. Which was the opposite of what he used to ask for.

  I would have thought that much was obvious by now. He’d given a half-hearted laugh as he said those words, smoothing over whatever emotion had lain behind the first statement.

  I’m not asking you for anything. I would have thought that much was obvious by now.

  But he used to ask her, ask her several times a week, or even a day, to marry him. When had Pavel stopped asking her to marry him? When had he changed his mind about what he wanted? She hadn’t changed her mind about what she wanted.

  Oh.

  Except she had. Once upon a time, she didn’t want to say yes to him, and she’d told him to stop asking her.

  Because she was scared.

  Too scared to say “yes” to the future because the future was always throwing you curves just like this and messing up your happiness.

  He’d stopped asking her that very day she told him to.

  I’m not asking you for anything. I would have thought that much was obvious by now.

  Ahead, the first volcanic peaks of the Madeiran isles appeared. Jess increased her descent, heading for the pools of Porto Moniz, while the truth of her desire bubbled up inside of her like a wave. No, no, that wasn’t it. Waves didn’t … bubble. That thing, on Earth, what was it? That thing that rose up from the deep places. A spring. Yes, that was the name for this feeling, this swell of truth inside of her seeping upward, upward, until she gave it form in her mind using words. Just a few of them. So simple: Marry me, Pavel.

  She brought the ship down by the most remote pool. It wasn’t a parking spot, exactly, but she was flying the Chancellor’s craft. Even on Madeira, no one was going to chase her away. She took a deep breath and turned to face Pavel.

  “I’ve been a coward,” she said. “And an idiot. But only because I was a coward first.”

  Pavel turned to her, his eyes narrowed. Confused.

  “And I’m sorry,” said Jess. She took his face in her hands and wanted, wanted oh-so-much to kiss him because words were so hard to find and his lips were so inviting.

  But the words were important.

  “I was afraid to say yes, when you asked me to marry you. And it wasn’t because of kids. I know that’s what I let you think. But that wasn’t it. I was afraid to marry you because what would I do if you died? Or if I did? I thought I didn’t want to be that hopeful girl I used to be like when I got on the Red Galleon to fly to Earth.” She frowned. She was saying this all wrong. Her hands dropped from Pavel’s face.

  But he took her hand and held it in his.

  She tried again.

  “I thought if I didn’t put too much trust in us having a future together, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if we didn’t. That was stupid. Of course it will hurt like Hades to lose you, either way. Whether I say yes to the future and to hope and to possibility or whether I don’t. Love means being vulnerable. Our underbellies exposed. A planet with no defenses and missiles on the way.”

  How could she have ever thought she could keep her heart safe by telling Pavel she wouldn’t marry him? It was ridiculous!

  “I choose risk. I choose vulnerability. I choose you, Pavel.”

  He shook his head. “Jessamyn …”

  And she had no idea what answer he was giving. He might be about to say yes or no. That he would spend his life with her or apart from her. She didn’t know. And she wouldn’t know unless … unless she asked him.

  “Do you want to marry me, Pavel? Because I want to marry you.”

  His mouth crushed against hers. Warmth. Heat. The sweetness of powdered sugar stuck invisibly to his lips and now to hers. She couldn’t tell where her mouth stopped and his sta
rted, and that was all she wanted. Not Terran-style rations or fast ships or being acquitted of inter-planetary theft. Not even swimming in a volcanic pool. Just this: kissing Pavel and being with him, and yes, even being terrified to lose him. This. Every day for as long as they both might live.

  The ship’s audio belatedly announced their arrival at Porto Moniz, Madeira, and the two pulled apart, startled. Jessamyn rested her forehead against Pavel’s. “So, was that a ‘yes’?”

  Pavel laughed softly. “It’s always been a yes. Since the day we met. But I have a condition.”

  Jessamyn arched one brow. “Oh, really?”

  “I get to take your family name. I’ve had enough of both of mine.”

  Jess smiled. “I think I could get used to the sound of Pavel Jaarda.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Jaarda,” murmured Pavel. “Oh. Unless it makes you think of your parents?”

  “Oh, no,” said Jess. “They’re Dr. and Dr. Jaarda. So we’re good.”

  And then they kissed some more.

  At last, Pavel whispered to Jessamyn, “You want to go swimming now?”

  “No,” she said. “I want to get married now. Let’s go see Cameron Wallace.”

  57

  BERRY PIE

  Cameron Wallace, in her capacity as a magistrate, transformed Jessamyn and Pavel into Mr. and Mrs. Jaarda. Cameron’s sergeant-at-arms and lead piper stood in attendance as witnesses. Cameron managed to find a “suitable” dress for the bride (white, flowing, ancient) and Jamie managed to find a handful of dirt that, if not red, was at least yellowish in color. At the right moment, Jess sprinkled it on Pavel’s head, much to his amusement. If he enjoyed dousing her with water rather more than she thought was necessary, well, it would make for a good laugh when her parents saw the vid back home.

  The wedding feast, a late luncheon celebrated with just Jess, Pavel, and Cameron, consisted of pizza and although Jess had requested fresh berries, there were none to be had this late in the year. Which was how she discovered a Terran ration she liked even better than pizza: Berry Pie.

  She wasn’t even going to try it, at first. But Cameron had been so apologetic.