Losing Mars (Saving Mars Series-3)

by Swanson, Cidney

  Of course, the captain had been living on Earth for almost three months with no idea whether any of the Raiders were alive or dead, or if the Galleon had made it back to Mars. Jess knew that she’d have been changed by such circumstances. In fact, it was wonderful Kipper had believed Jess was, well, Jess. She could have assumed any number of things upon seeing Jessamyn’s body once again. But Kipper had assumed she was Jessamyn. And Jess was going with her gut feeling that Kipper was Kipper as well.

  The hours from mid-morning to seven in the evening passed slowly and involved repeated visits to the coffee shop around the corner from the hospital. In a spectacular display of waste, Jess chose not to finish her fourth cup of coffee. She suspected the Terran beverage was contributing to the uncomfortable jitters tickling up and down her spine. She watched as a pair of twobodies and the threebody doctor left the hospital, the threebody pausing to secure the door before he left. It was seven o’clock. Jess waited until the man had turned a corner. Shouldering the back pack Kipper had given her, Jessamyn stood, crossed the street, and sounded a door-alert at the hospital’s entrance.

  “This is it,” she muttered.

  23

  WORST JOB IN THE WORLD

  Lucca Brezhnaya did not have a temper that managed idleness well. Now that she had set things in motion with Gaspar, her fly-on-the-wall, her mind grew restless. The Head of Global Solvency had long-since been instructed to keep a weather-eye to the flow of tellurium, and the Chancellor had checked in with him several times in the past two days, eventually admitting that there was nothing new to be learned or gained. No one, it appeared, was moving tellurium at all right now.

  This brought her thoughts to her own lovely store of the precious metal. Its location, which she’d at first thought unfortunate, now seemed rather fortuitous after all. If the Martian ship had crashed on land, there would have been prying eyes on its hold, even with the erection of barriers to keep the curious away.

  It was easier to keep the inquisitive away from the sunken vessel, however. Lucca had simply circulated a story that ancient undersea mines had been discovered along the coast by farmers of sea urchin beds. A healthy aversion to being blown to bits had effectively cleared the coast to the west of the Puget Sound.

  She glanced through her latest reports, noting that Red Squadron Forces were being trained in methods of undersea diving and the use of submersible vehicles. Last month, she’d had a handful of operatives adept in low-depth reconnaissance. They had, however, all met with unfortunate deaths at the site of the M-class accident. Lucca had been very angry that day. She regretted it now.

  She placed a call to her Pacific operations inquiring as to how much longer it would be before the trainees would be ready to dive and begin the process of hauling up the massive find. What she was told did not please her.

  “Two weeks?” she asked the official on the holoscreen. “What are you teaching them? How to tie their shoes underwater?”

  “Madam Chancellor, we have established protocols to minimize the loss of life due to inadequate knowledge and—”

  Lucca cut the speaker off. “Two weeks is unacceptable. I want them diving in two days.”

  There was an extended silence as the figure upon the holoscreen glanced over to others in his office to consult.

  “We must stress that we cannot send the new divers this soon,” came the response at last. “Conditions underwater at these depths are simply—”

  The Chancellor interrupted again. “Then find me someone who can dive safely at these depths. Do I have to do everything myself?”

  The official at the Puget Sound station nodded, then shook his head, then cleared his throat. “Certainly we can bring in experienced divers. We thought that you wished to keep the investigation of the crashed vehicle top-secret, so—”

  “There is more than one way to keep information from circulating. Find me some divers. I want intelligence on the status of that ship’s hold in two days’ time. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Absolutely, Madam Chancellor,” said the official.

  “Brezhnaya out.”

  Lucca pressed her forefinger and thumb on either side of the bridge of her nose and rubbed gently until she felt calm again. She always felt better after she’d done a bit of shouting, but it did tend to increase her headaches. Why couldn’t people simply anticipate what needed doing? Lucca allowed herself a rare moment of self-pity. She had the worst job in the world.

  But she was committed to seeing her vision through, committed to leaving Earth better than she had found it. No matter how many headaches it cost her. She reached for a med-patch to send the headache packing. It was a difficult and lonely calling, to keep peace on Earth, but she would do it, no matter the personal cost.

  24

  PROTOCOL

  The door of the Dunakeszi Hospital and Clinic for Brain Injury swung open and Jessamyn gazed inside. From behind a counter, Kipper gestured for her to come in. Jess could hear a child crying in the distance. Running toward Jess, Kipper seized the bag she’d given Jess earlier and dug inside.

  “What I was thinking?” she asked. “Dunya’s blankie, for the love of mittens!” She shook her head as she fished out the blanket. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  And with that, Kipper strode off in the direction of the crying child, calling out, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

  Jess would have chased Kipper up the stairs except that it was plain to see her former captain was much faster than Jessamyn on this gravity-heavy world. That, and Jess felt a bit unsteady, like rogue electrons were buzzing around in her brain and stomach.

  “I will never drink coffee again,” she murmured to the empty foyer.

  Kipper came swiftly down the stairs and grasped Jessamyn’s hand in hers. “This way,” she said. As they strode along a narrow hall, Kipper released Jess’s hand, murmuring an apology. “Sorry. I’m used to taking children’s hands.”

  Using her wrist chip, Kipper scanned the two of them inside a room that reminded Jessamyn of the one she’d been stuck inside at New Kelen Hospital.

  “We’ve both been sloppy as regards protocol. You ought to have demanded proof that I am who you believe me to be.”

  “I don’t need you to prove anything,” said Jessamyn.

  “That’s extremely unwise. Prove to me you are Jessamyn Jaarda,” said Kipper as soon as the door latched behind them.

  Jess’s eyebrows raised. “Seriously? Fine. After you prove you’re Kipper,” she retorted.

  The former captain stood arrow-straight. “I tendered my resignation when I heard you would be my first officer. I’m from Squyres Station where we mine the best tellurium on the planet. I sent you to your quarters for insubordinate behavior on our first day out from Mars even though your actions saved our lives. I was shot in the head and captured while trying to help your brother on our mission. Your turn.”

  “Oh, Kipper,” Jess said softly.

  “Don’t feel sorry for me,” snapped the captain. “I want proof you are who you appear to be. How do I know it’s you?”

  Jess took a deep breath. “You and I haven’t had the best working relationship. I called you ‘Sir’ when I knew you preferred ‘Ma’am.’ You gave up your quarters so my brother would feel less discomfort. Oh, and everyone knows you want to be the next Secretary General. Your brother’s trying to beat you to it, though. Is that enough proof for you?”

  “My brother?” Kipper’s eyes drew almost closed as she frowned at Jessamyn.

  “Yeah. We’ve got a lot to talk about. But not here,” said Jess, looking around nervously.

  “This room is Dr. Ruchenko’s office. He’s disabled any kind of monitoring. Had me do it, actually, when he heard I was good with high tech.”

  “I didn’t know you were good with high tech,” said Jess.

  “Why else do you think I was assigned to assist Ethan?”

  Jess felt stupid. She’d been too busy keeping track of what Kipper didn’t do well to be aware o
f her strengths. “I’m sorry I was so … insubordinate, Captain.”

  Kipper’s face softened. “I—You—” and then she broke off, her face crumpling with evident pain. “Ahh,” she sighed, clutching at the side of her face.

  Jessamyn stood awkwardly, then glanced around the room. “Can I get you something? An analgesic?” She opened and closed several panels, eager to help her captain.

  Kipper made no response, but after several seconds, she grunted out a few words. “Nothing helps. It always passes.” She seemed to recover and explained, “The bullet causes me to experience high levels of pain twenty-four-seven. But they can’t take the bullet out without risking ruining this body. Meaning this body is useless to the Rebody program. Dr. Ruchenko was supposed to turn me over for questioning when I awoke from the coma, but he thinks I’m too valuable as a nurse.”

  Jessamyn’s brows pulled down and together. It disturbed her to hear Kipper referring to her body as if it were only a part—a dispensable part—of who she was.

  “Surely there’s something medicinal you could take,” said Jessamyn, her voice soft.

  Kipper stretched her neck to one side. “I’ve already taken it. Anything else will knock me unconscious.”

  “Okay,” said Jessamyn, gazing nervously at her suffering captain. “Well, we should get you out of here, then.”

  “I can’t leave,” said Kipper.

  “What do you mean, you can’t leave? You do realize I’m here to rescue you, don’t you?” Jess felt her face flush with color. It sounded silly when she said it aloud.

  “Jessamyn, I’m chipped. If I go anywhere, Ruchenko will know. Secures will be on me in no time.”

  Jess stared at her captain. “So we take your chip out. Obviously.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She frowned, touching the side of her head. “I think the bullet must be making me stupid.”

  “You’ve had no reason to leave up until now.”

  “Oh, I’ve thought plenty about …” Kipper shook her head. “Never mind. You’re right, of course. I need to remove the chip.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a scalpel.

  “Hey,” cried Jess. “Not so fast. There should be something—some green gooey stuff—to stop you from feeling pain.”

  “Right,” murmured Kipper. She opened another panel and removed a small med-patch, smearing it back and forth over her wrist. “That should do it.” She frowned as she examined her right wrist. “I’m right-handed. Would you do it?”

  Jess nodded and swiftly located the bump of the scan chip. She took a deep breath and made a slice across Kipper’s wrist. “Whoa,” she said. “It shouldn’t bleed that much, should it?”

  “You haven’t done this before?” asked Kipper.

  Jess bit her lower lip and mopped up the pooling red with a cloth. Carefully, she inserted a pair of tweezers. She tried to be as steady-handed as Pavel, but her hand shook with nerves or from the coffee or from the sight of so much blood.

  “Got it,” Jess said as she removed the chip.

  Kipper winced briefly as Jess dabbed at the blood.

  “Did I hurt you?” Jess asked.

  The captain grunted a small laugh. “I’ve come a long way in my tolerance for pain, I can tell you.”

  Jess sponged up as much blood as she could before reaching for a heat-healer.

  “I wouldn’t mind a scar,” said Kipper, softly.

  “Not smart,” said Jess, trying to remember how Pavel had passed the heat-healer over her own wrist. “You don’t want anyone wondering what you’ve done to get that scar. We have to get you out of here without anyone noticing.”

  Kipper nodded but then her face folded into an uncertain frown. “I suppose … I don’t know Jessamyn. The children … someone wakes up most nights. If I’m gone …”

  Jess wanted to say that they didn’t matter as much as real children. They were Terran. But she didn’t think that would go over well with Kipper.

  “Contact someone who can cover for you,” Jess suggested. “Say you’re having so much pain you need to knock yourself unconscious.”

  Kipper nodded and placed a call.

  When she’d finished, she reached for the scan chip lying upon the steel tray. “This will transmit from my room. If I seal the door, it should give us ten hours lead time. They won’t come knocking until tomorrow morning. Later, if we’re lucky.”

  Jess nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  “Where is your transport?” asked Kipper. “You didn’t land the Galleon at the municipal hoverport, I take it?”

  Jessamyn swallowed. She was going to have to explain that part sooner or later. “No,” she said, opting for later. “Let’s go.”

  “I need to grab a few things,” said Kipper.

  The captain (Jess couldn’t help thinking of her that way) retrieved a handful of items from her room, stuffing Jess’s pack with one set of med-patches, her own pack with another set. Kipper stared long and hard at a portable wafer, but left it behind in the end, reasoning that it could be used as a means of locating her whereabouts.

  “You should go,” said Kipper. “Wait for me at the park until the relief nurse shows up.”

  Jess, agreeing no good could come of her being spotted by a hospital employee, left the building. She hugged a thin coat tightly around her as a breath of wind murmured through the park, scattering leaves in its wake. The wind wasn’t cold, exactly, but it felt a lonely thing, brushing through the quiet town, and it chilled Jess. Half an hour passed and Jess remained alone with the breeze-tossed limbs of trees that towered above her, whispering their secrets to one another.

  “Hurry up, Kip,” she mumbled into the darkness.

  At last Jess descried a tiny figure running toward her. She prepared to flee or hide in case it wasn’t Kipper. The figure paused, lifted a hand to her temple. Kipper. In pain. Jess ran to her captain. The attack seemed to be lasting longer than the other one Jessamyn had observed.

  “Try counting backwards,” Jessamyn whispered. “Or try to map out the route at the Academy from Astrometrics to the dean’s office.” These were the sorts of things that helped Ethan when panic struck him.

  Kipper remained silent, but Jess could see from the deep furrows in her brow, the pale color of her face, that her captain suffered great pain.

  “Try focusing on your—”

  “Shut it!” Kipper gasped, cutting Jessamyn off mid-suggestion.

  A few more seconds passed and Kipper raised herself from her hunched position. “Which way to the transport?” she asked.

  “This way,” said Jessamyn. “I left it in an old quarry.”

  Kipper’s brows drew together in a look Jess recognized, even though the facial features were altered. “The quarry?” asked the captain, disapproval in her tone. “You left the Galleon in the quarry?”

  “No. Another ship. Smaller. With a tarp. Not exactly the right color—”

  Kipper interrupted her. “But you’re saying you left our escape vehicle in the quarry?”

  “What’s the big deal about the quarry?”

  Kipper’s eyes rolled briefly heavenward. “Putting something in the quarry is the same as saying, ‘Hey, I don’t want this anymore.’ In fact, you’re supposed to pay a fee to the Family Vanyashin prior to disposing of items there.”

  “How was I supposed to know that?” demanded Jessamyn.

  The two stood, toe to toe, looking into one another’s eyes.

  Kipper broke off first. “Oh, for the love of fuzzy slippers,” she muttered. “Let’s go check the quarry. Maybe the Family Vanyashin took the day off.”

  But when they arrived, there was no sign of Renard’s tiny ship.

  “They took the tarp, too, looks like,” said the captain. “So you show up to rescue me without a rescue vehicle.”

  “I had a perfectly good rescue vehicle—”

  “Well you don’t have one now.” The captain clutched her head once more in pain, but it passed swiftly this time. Jess stood to one side, fuming, thinkin
g of what she’d like to do to whoever had stolen Renard’s ship.

  When Kipper recovered, she spoke. “Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to the home of a member of the Family Vanyashin—someone whose child I’ve cared for—and we’re apologizing for leaving your ship there without paying, and we’re explaining that we’re ready to pay the disposal fee and any other charges we might have incurred for our inconsiderate behavior.”

  Jessamyn stared at the captain, her mouth falling slightly open.

  “Yes, Jaarda, our inconsiderate behavior. And then we’ll offer to buy the ship back. Hades and Aphrodite, you brought credits, didn’t you?”

  “I have a few fingers of tel—”

  Kipper’s hand flew to Jessamyn’s mouth. For a moment, Jess thought the captain was slapping her. Then she realized Kipper was stopping her from speaking the word tellurium aloud.

  “Shizer! Are you trying to get us mugged?” Kipper’s whisper came out in an angry hiss.

  “I’m trying to get you safely out of here,” snapped Jess.

  “You don’t know the first thing about life on this world,” murmured Kipper.

  “I got all the way here, didn’t I?” demanded Jess. “And if you know so much, why haven’t you tried to escape?”

  “What was the point?” Kipper shot back.

  Jessamyn’s breath hitched and she felt her fists clench. What was the point? Where should she begin? “Find the rest of us, thwart the Terran government, contact Clan Wallace, go back and mess with the satellite controls some more—”

  “I thought you were all dead,” Kipper said, cutting Jess off. “I thought all kinds of things. None of them included any of you still being here.”

  The two walked in silence, Jessamyn trying to comprehend the enormity of the difference between how her mind and her captain’s mind worked.

  “Every single day has been like … like …” Kipper paused, searching for the words. “Have you ever taken your helmet off inside an airlock that wasn’t functioning properly?”