Striking Mars (The Saving Mars Series-5)

by Cidney Swanson

  “I do,” said the Secretary.

  Geoffrey scratched the back of his neck. “You sure Mendoza’s not the better candidate?”

  A flush of color spread over the Secretary’s cheeks.

  “You’ll understand that I don’t mean to imply General Mendoza’s time is more valuable than yours, of course,” said the Secretary.

  “I’m a professor on a leave of absence,” replied Geoffrey, chuckling. “Of course Mendoza’s time is more valuable than mine.”

  “Will Lillian mind?”

  Geoffrey’s brows furrowed. “You’re asking how she will handle me being away?”

  The Secretary nodded curtly.

  “Honestly, fine, I think. She’s doing well. The new interns are an incredible inspiration. I’ve never seen her more enthusiastic about her work.”

  “Well,” said Mei Lo, “like it or not, the truth is that I can’t spare Mendoza or anyone else with weapons knowledge—”

  “And you can spare me,” replied Geoff. “I understand. Lillian will be fine. It’s probably nothing weapons-related. None of the schematics we obtained ever indicated the satellites could do anything other than fire lasers.”

  “We have schematics?”

  “Sure,” shrugged Geoffrey. “They were leaked here by concerned Terrans, prior to the Accords. There was a huge amount of protest over Terran military interference with Mars and Marsians.”

  “Moons of Zeus,” said Mei Lo. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know my own planet’s history.”

  “Pretty esoteric bit of trivia,” said Geoffrey. “Only of interest to someone with a thing for old Terran weaponry.”

  “It would mean a great deal to me if you’d undertake the investigation.” Mei Lo rubbed her eyes.

  Geoffrey realized he still hadn’t said yes. “Of course.” Privately, he thought the Secretary looked exhausted. “Are you doing … okay? With all this?”

  The Secretary smiled grimly. “Mars Colonial has survived potential annihilation. My people want me at the helm. I’ve never been better.”

  Geoffrey recognized a bit of politics-speak in her last statement; he suspected she’d been better many times in her life.

  “Well, the timing on this is perfect for me,” he said. “I’ve been stir-crazy with the shutdown of the University. I tried to volunteer a couple of times over at the water treatment facility, but they wouldn’t have me. Too much trouble to train someone who might be pulled back to his regular job at a moment’s notice. They give me the odd problem to solve off-site, but it’s not enough to keep me as busy as I like.”

  Mei Lo’s face reflected frustration. “We’re looking at another month of shut-downs for educational institutions: that’s what they’re telling me. But that’s been the line for weeks already. I’ve got students as young as eight annums working eight-hour shifts at Water Treatment to bring the facility back to life.”

  “They looked happy enough when I stopped by,” said Geoffrey. “I guess you could think of what they’re doing as a sort of apprenticeship. And it’s definitely something to tell their grandkids about.”

  “Hmm. I suppose so. Like our founding progenitors. Did you know some early settlements allowed six-annum-old kids to work adult jobs?”

  “I didn’t know that. But I’m not surprised. They had it tough back then. Not nearly enough people for the load they were shouldering. I would have loved to quit school at that age and start working.”

  “Hmmph,” grunted the Secretary. “You never would have earned your PhD if that had been allowed, now would you?”

  “I suppose not.”

  A soft ping sounded at the Secretary’s desk.

  “Tongs of Hades,” murmured the Secretary. “My next appointment’s here already.”

  Geoffrey rose to depart. “I’d be pleased to accept the assignment.”

  The Secretary General rose as well, extending her hand. “My assistant will send you the data we’ve collected so far. Have a safe flight.”

  Geoffrey shook the Secretary’s hand and departed.

  Now all he had to do was convince his wife that what he was about to do was perfectly safe.

  29

  High Earth Orbit

  “Come on, wake up,” said a voice Jessamyn didn’t recognize. It was not a pleasant voice.

  Did Pavel have a sore throat? Was it Zussman in a very foul mood? Her eyes fluttered open. She was aboard a small craft. The Ghost’s craft. Where was Yevgeny? She twisted and discovered her hands had been cuffed together. Her feet had been cuffed as well, and she was firmly harnessed into her seat at the ship’s helm.

  “Finally,” said the unfamiliar voice.

  And then Jess remembered everything in a rush. The voice wasn’t unfamiliar after all: it was the spacer they’d rescued. A picture glowed on the comm panel, a picture of her. Why was she wearing an orange dress in the picture?

  Of course. Lucca must have pulled the image from Jessamyn’s first encounter with Pavel at the Awards Banquet when she’d worn an orange sari. And the rescued trash harvester, recognizing her, had captured her.

  “Undo these restraints at once,” she demanded. Her voice sounded raspy, as though she’d swallowed moon dust.

  “No can do, duchess,” said the stranger. “Thanks to the bounty on your head, you’re going to make Harvey here a very wealthy man.”

  Shizer.

  She spun her head back, looking for the Ghost.

  “Sorry about your boyfriend back there,” said Harvey.

  Jess was on the verge of saying the Ghost wasn’t her boyfriend when her Academy training kicked in.

  Admit nothing. Jessamyn could see the phrase as it had appeared in her Academy tactical textbook, right next to, Reveal nothing.

  “You’re the girl, the one the Chancellor’s put that huge bounty on.”

  Jessamyn said nothing.

  “Nobody’s supposed to know about that except members of her elite squadron, but I got connections, see?” said Harvey.

  “What did you do to … him?” Jess asked, indicating the Ghost.

  “Little man there put up quite a fight, but in the end, all he did was give himself CO2 poisoning a little quicker.” Harvey shrugged. “It should be illegal to put O2 relays where arms don’t reach, don’t you think?”

  “You shut off his relay?” Jessamyn felt as though a heavy weight was compressing her lungs, but it was her heart that ached. Not the Ghost. No!

  Her suit prompted her to breathe.

  And then she realized something: the spacer must not have noticed the emergency switches added to the wrists of her and Yevgeny’s suits. And Jess had to make sure he didn’t notice now. Even if the Ghost was only playing dead, Jess didn’t know how much air he’d have left. He’d been struggling. He lay so still now, slumped in mid-air to one side of the craft.

  “Do you know who he is?” asked Jessamyn, indicating Yevgeny.

  “Was, duchess. Don’t know, don’t care. He’s not the one worth the prize money.”

  “He’s the Ghost,” said Jess. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “The Ghost?” Harvey laughed harshly. “Sure he is, sweetheart. I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned in and whispered, “The Ghost works alone.”

  Everyone knew the Ghost worked alone. She had no chance of convincing someone who didn’t want to believe it. And she was wasting precious minutes, if Yevgeny was still breathing.

  With conversation, lull your enemy into complacence.

  “How long was I out?” Jess asked. Keep him talking. Keep him chatty.

  “Sorry, but you ain’t the one asking questions today.”

  So much for the usefulness of quotes from Academy tactical textbooks.

  Jessamyn felt a lump growing in her throat.

  “He saved your life,” said Jessamyn. Anger overwhelmed all other feelings. “And this is how you repay him?”

  “That’s right. And now you’re going to save my life again.”

  “I
sincerely doubt that,” retorted Jess, her eyes flashing.

  “There are worse endings than carbon dioxide poisoning, duchess.”

  “You wretched sand toad,” said Jessamyn, wriggling against her restraints. She wished her vocabulary were more extensive. “You stinking son of Phobos!” It was the worst insult she knew: one that would have meant an afternoon in her room with no books when she was younger.

  “Phobos? Never heard of him,” said Harvey.

  Jessamyn emitted a low, guttural sound; even her insults flew wide of the mark.

  “So,” said her captor, his tone conversational, “you know how to fly this thing?”

  Jessamyn said nothing.

  “I asked you nice. Do you know how to fly this thing?” He leaned in threateningly. “I’ve never seen technology this old. But you were at the helm, so you must know how it works.”

  Jessamyn glared at him.

  Harvey shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’ve only got enough oxygen for another couple hours. Rescue won’t be here for seven.”

  A flicker of panic shot through Jess. A couple of hours? She tried to find a calculus that would allow the Ghost to be still alive. But even she didn’t have enough oxygen to last until a rescue came. And what kind of rescue would it be, anyway? She’d get rescued right into Lucca’s waiting arms.

  Infuriated, she asked herself how she could have allowed this to happen. She called herself a few unsavory names, breathing heavily inside her suit. And then she forced herself to calm down, to breathe more slowly. Her oxygen supply was limited. Her friend was incapacitated. What did she have?

  She had an invitation to fly.

  An idea formed itself into a small sort of plan.

  “I can fly the ship.”

  “That’s the spirit, duchess. Coordinates are laid in for you, even. I got that far.”

  Jessamyn raised her manacled hands in front of her captor. “Do you mind?”

  His eyes narrowed as he seemed to calculate the likelihood that Jess could control the craft with her hands linked together.

  “Don’t try anything,” said Harvey, leaning forward and dancing another drug packet in front of Jessamyn’s eyes. “I got more meds, and you got that switch on the back of your suit same as your boyfriend there.”

  “I won’t try anything,” said Jess. “I should warn you, though, the ship’s been acting up. She’s due for maintenance.”

  “Just get us there in one piece, duchess.”

  Something inside Jessamyn pulled taut, ready to snap.

  “Another thing: you call me duchess one more time, and I’ll crash us into the next station, ship, or debris field I meet.” She glared at her captor, daring him to say anything.

  Harvey laughed, which only made Jess angrier. Anger made her run through her oxygen faster. Calm down, she ordered herself.

  She gave her hands a swift shake, and stretched her fingers in her gloved hands. Harvey wanted her to chauffeur him? Oh, she’d chauffeur him, all right.

  She engaged the ship’s engines.

  With cooperation, lull your enemy into complacence.

  Hades, where had her brain been storing these little tidbits? The Academy offered only two classes that could be termed “military” in nature. She’d never known she’d paid such close attention.

  “No funny stuff,” warned Harvey. He waved the injection packet in front of her.

  Much as she wanted to punch her captor in the gut, she did what he asked. She brought the ship out slowly, carefully, following the course Harvey indicated. After fifteen minutes of easy flying, Jessamyn decided the time had come. She fired the forward starboard thruster. Just a short burst. Hardly enough to jolt them.

  “Whoa!” she said. “Did you feel that?”

  Through deception, deceive the deceiver.

  “What was it?” asked Harvey, sounding concerned.

  Jessamyn shrugged and allowed herself a brief glance at her captor. He had been flipping the injection packet, which reminded her of something Pavel would do when he was bored, but he’d stopped when the ship shimmied. She needed him relaxed, not concerned. And definitely not suspicious.

  “I’m sure it was nothing,” she said.

  A moment later she heard the sound of the injection packet being tossed and caught, tossed and caught. Harvey was relaxing again. Good, thought Jessamyn. Bored is good.

  It was time.

  Only when his demise is upon him shall you allow your enemy to fear you.

  Jessamyn fired several thrusters in rapid alteration, generating a nice tight corkscrew. Her body was thrown to one side, but the harness kept her in her seat. A thudding sound told her Yevgeny’s body had slammed against the side of the ship. Whatever his condition, that couldn’t have been helpful.

  “What’s wrong?” shouted Harvey. He wasn’t strapped in either, but he’d clutched his harness reflexively. The drug packet floated away from him and he grabbed for it.

  Jessamyn danced her gloved hands over a series of switches, panels, and dials as though trying to fix something. The g’s were getting strong and she felt a wave of nausea. Not now, she told herself.

  “Make it stop!” demanded her captor.

  “Working on it,” she snapped, tipping the ship sharply. Earth filled the view screen, a blue and white sphere. Her own vision began to degrade on one side.

  Breathe through it, Jaarda, she ordered herself. The black dots disappeared. Harvey wasn’t doing as well.

  “Fix … it … now!” he said, suffering from the increase in g’s.

  Jess smiled. It was going to get a lot worse before she did any fixing. She focused on abdominal exercises, correct breathing. Just another few seconds.

  “Help….” yelled Harvey.

  Jess turned her head by slow centimeters and saw his head flop to one side. In a matter of seconds, she pulled the ship out of its crazy spin, caught the medical delivery packet where it spun lazily before Harvey’s chest, and slammed it onto the juncture at his elbow.

  The ship had stabilized, but Jess’s feet were still clamped together.

  “Ugh!” she shouted. Luckily, in zero gravity, bound feet were less of an issue than they would have been elsewhere. She shoved herself back to the Ghost’s slumped form and examined the emergency switch Ethan had installed to prevent what their captor had intended. Sure enough, the Ghost had thrown the switch at his wrist. But was he still alive?

  “Ghost!” she shouted. “Ghost? Yevgeny?”

  30

  High Earth Orbit

  Jessamyn called his name again. “Yevgeny, please!”

  The Ghost’s left eye opened first and spun to where Harvey lay unconscious, then his right eye opened. And then he smiled and gave Jessamyn a tiny wink.

  “Fooled you, didn’t I?”

  “Thank goodness,” Jess sobbed, throwing both arms around the Ghost’s bulky suit. “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “I’m good at breathing through intense g’s,” said the Ghost. “As are you. How is the ship doing?”

  “The ship’s fine,” said Jess. “That was just me, having some fun.”

  “Right, then,” said the Ghost. “Enough excitement for one day. Let’s go home.”

  Jessamyn hesitated. “What about him?”

  The Ghost’s mouth turned slightly downward. “Oh. Him. I suppose we’d better take him with us so I can ask him a few questions.”

  Jess was on the verge of asking, And then what?

  She decided, however, that she didn’t really need an answer to that question.

  “Home it is,” she said. The word tumbled out so easily, as though the Terran moon had somehow become the latest in the series of homes away from home.

  Home’s where Pavel is, whispered her heart.

  Between the injection Jess had given Harvey and what the Ghost had seen fit to add, the rescued spacer remained unconscious until the three landed back at Tranquility Base. There, Zussman met them with his unfailing deference and courtesy.

  “Any luck
in your hunt, Miss Jessamyn? Mister Yevgeny?”

  Jessamyn raised her brows, folded her arms, and looked to the Ghost, silently querying him, You want to answer that one? When the Ghost shook his head, Jessamyn gave it her best effort.

  “We located a single heat shield panel and other … assorted trash,” she said.

  At her side, the Ghost uttered one of his choked laughs. “Trash. Yes. Yes, indeed. Perhaps Mr. Zussman and I should attend to the trash,” he said.

  Jess shuddered. “I’m going to find Pavel.”

  An hour later, they met for rations. Jess recounted her adventure for her brother’s benefit. It occurred to her again to wonder what, exactly, had befallen Harvey the would-be bounty hunter. “Mr. Zussman, what did you end up doing with the, um, rescued spacer?”

  Zussman cleared his throat and shook out his white linen napkin, placing it carefully on his lap. “Please rest assured the situation has been managed most satisfactorily, miss.”

  “Zussman knows how to take out the garbage,” said the Ghost, snickering into his hands as he examined the ration bar Zussman had set before him.

  “Well,” said Pavel, “while you’ve been off having adventures, we’ve had some excitement of our own here.”

  Jess looked from Pavel to her brother to Mr. Zussman. “Such as?”

  “You will need to see it,” said Ethan.

  “It’s a new vid,” added Pavel. “And I predict this one goes viral.”

  This did not prepare Jessamyn for the shock of seeing the kind brown eyes of Harpreet upon the holoscreen minutes later.

  “That’s Harpreet!” cried Jessamyn. “Eth, what were you thinking? She’s not even disguised! Lucca’s supposed to think she’s dead.”

  “It was Harpreet’s idea,” said Ethan. “Although I required a great deal of persuasion before consenting to assist.” He reached out to pause the holofeed. “Rest assured that Harpreet is no longer on Madeira, where her presence might cause trouble for our friends.”

  “I wasn’t even thinking about Madeira,” murmured Jess. “I’m worried about Harpreet. Having her conduct interviews from the camera’s blind side is one thing, but having her appear before the entire world, without any disguise: that’s crazy!”