The Girl From Mars

by Brenda Hiatt

  Only a couple of the original players are still here, other than Alan and me, but with the addition of those permanent Dun Cloch folks, our level of play has continued—slowly—to improve. Those caidpel sessions are the only thing I look forward to, since I quit pushing Populist ideals at mealtimes after a few people overheard me and got upset. One called me a “Neo-Faxist” to my face and another actually told my parents. Needless to say, they were pretty upset.

  Over lunch—where we’re again subjected to heightened security—Mum ecstatically tells us that she’s been cleared to speak with the Sovereign later. “I’d love for you girls to meet her, too, if that’s allowed.”

  I hope not. I’d be way too tempted to tell her to her face that it’s all her fault my life went from awesome to awful in less than two months. Bet that would keep us from having to move to Jewel…

  As we’re leaving the dining hall, there’s a compound-wide announcement that the Sovereign has just arrived and will give an address in the central square in twenty minutes. Before I can slip away, Mum herds us ahead of her, making our family among the first to arrive. Nearly beside herself with excitement, she leads us to a spot just behind the barriers that have been set up around three sides of the square—the same place the Horizon landed.

  Ten minutes later a black Duchas vehicle with darkened windows rolls into the open side of the square. A uniformed man gets out, followed by the Sovereign, then another uniformed man. Flanked by the men, she proceeds to a dais in the center of the square and steps up to a raised podium to face the still-gathering crowd.

  “Hello, everyone,” she begins, but I doubt anyone but those up front can hear her. Hardly the voice of a commander. But then she touches something on her collar and her next words ring out across the square.

  “Sorry about that. Hello, everyone,” she says again. “I’m here to personally thank you all for your willingness to spearhead our necessary emigration to Earth. Your bravery and initiative will almost certainly help to extend the life of our colony on Mars, giving our Scientists additional time to find a more permanent solution to Nuath’s power shortage.”

  As she continues to spout platitudes, I examine her critically. In person, she looks even younger than on the feeds—no wonder she can’t project the kind of authority a leader should. Like Crevan Erc does, for example. Surely the savior of Nuath, as people like my mother consider her, shouldn’t have to amplify her voice to get her ideas across—ideas almost certainly written by someone else for her to memorize.

  “I’ll be here for two more hours and hope to speak with as many of you as possible during that time. Please don’t hesitate to come to me with any questions or concerns you might have about adapting to life here on Earth.”

  Please don’t hesitate? When my parents had to be specially screened just to get close to her? Her hypocrisy sours my stomach.

  As she steps off the dais, those who’ve received clearance are directed to line up to have their passes verified. Mum motions for Adina and me to join her and Dad, but when we step forward, the man checking credentials frowns.

  “Were these two properly screened?”

  “Er, no,” Mum says, “but they are our daughters, and minors. I thought it would be nice for them to meet the Sovereign. My husband and I—”

  “Sorry. Only those with official clearance are allowed access. They’ll have to wait here, behind the barriers.”

  Mum hesitates, then she nods. “I’ll at least point you out to her,” she tells us apologetically as she steps through the gap in the barricade.

  Won’t that be special. I keep my instinctively snarky comment to myself.

  My parents join the line forming to speak with the girl-Sovereign. One of her Bodyguards shepherds people forward, then away, making sure no one monopolizes her for more than a minute or two. When it’s Mum and Dad’s turn, they bow deeply to her, right fists over their hearts—deeper bows than anyone else so far.

  “Such an honor, Excellency.” I can just make out Mum’s breathless gushing. “I am Deirdra Morain and this is my husband, Aidan. I…I knew your mother, years before you were born, when I worked at the Royal Palace. She was always extremely kind to me. You look remarkably like her.”

  The girl smiles, though from here it looks fake. “Thank you. I’ve been told that. What did you do at the Palace?”

  “I tended the Royal gardens.” Mum bobs her head obsequiously, making me wish I could shake her, snap her out of it. “Not just me, of course, but Consort Galena often complimented my work. I’m hoping—that is, my family is hoping—” She glances toward my sister and me and I quickly look away before the Sovereign can see the disgust on my face.

  “Ma’am,” interrupts the Bodyguard, “it’s time to move along so everyone else has a chance to meet the Sovereign. If there’s time, you may get another chance to speak with her before she leaves.”

  “Oh! Of…of course.” Mum backs away, bowing again, but when she and Dad rejoin us a moment later, she’s smiling ear to ear. “She was so gracious! Did you see? Could you hear?”

  Gracious? Seriously? “Um, yeah. She sounded very…polite.” That earns me a quick frown from Dad.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to bring you to her attention,” Mum continues, still bubbling. “But her guard said there might be a chance later. Why don’t we go see if we can get proper clearance for you two before she leaves? Then perhaps—”

  “No, really, Mum, it’s okay. If we end up going to Jewel, we’ll have plenty of chances to meet her. And if we don’t…it won’t matter, will it?” I glance at Dad.

  His frown softens. “Kira’s right, Deirdra. We shouldn’t get too invested until we know for sure. I still think— ” He breaks off. “Never mind. Let’s get you out of this crowd.”

  Not that Mum is acting especially nervous, despite the press of people around us. I suppress a twinge of annoyance remembering how she always begged off my games back in Nuath.

  * * *

  Two days later we finally finish Orientation. Everyone in our group is issued the various pieces of identification we’ll need to pass as Duchas. Those include fake utility bills from our supposedly previous residences, birth certificates, and drivers’ licenses for Mum, Dad and me. By now we all have a rudimentary Duchas wardrobe, as well, so we can theoretically blend in wherever we end up.

  Those who aren’t staying in Dun Cloch are now required to turn in all Martian tech except our new tablets. This causes a lot of grumbling, even though everyone over the age of twelve is also given a “mobile phone,” a sort of primitive Duchas omni. They’re simplistic things, can’t even send or receive off-planet messages. At least they can receive important MARSTAR communications, though we’ll have to input a special code to read them.

  Giving up my old tablet with its encrypted files of Populist hurts. Even worse, I realize if Crevan Erc or his people ever do want to contact me, they won’t be able to. Not unless we stay in Dun Cloch, and I get another omni. But…surely there’s a decent chance of that? Only last night, while in the bathroom getting ready for bed, I overheard part of an argument between Mum and Dad on the other side of the flimsy wall.

  “It’s already August, Deirdra. Everyone’s preparing to leave Dun Cloch except those of us still holding out for Jewel—only a few hundred at this point. And even those have named alternate communities so that they can leave as soon as the list is posted.”

  “But don’t you see? That means our odds of being chosen keep improving.” Mum sounds as cheerful about the prospect as ever.

  There’s a pause, then Dad says, “I’ve done a bit of research, and the schools Adina and Kira would attend in Jewel begin classes in just three days. If we are selected, we’ll all be required to take at least two weeks of additional classes before moving there. This transition will be challenging enough for our girls without the additional stress of arriving for school well after the start of the term.”

  “Many other towns’ schools have already begun,” Mum points o
ut. “Honestly, Aidan, don’t you think the advantages to our girls of attending school with the Sovereign outweigh the disadvantages of waiting?”

  “Perhaps. But unless you’re willing to remain in Dun Cloch, we should find out which communities’ schools begin latest—say, another town in Indiana.”

  “I suppose,” Mum says. “But I’m still confident we’ll end up in Jewel. You’ll see.”

  Remembering that now, I shake my head at Mum’s blind faith—which I devoutly hope is misplaced. Seeing the Sovereign frequently but having to hide the way I really feel about her would suck. Like being forced to lie constantly. I doubt I could do it, which means my whole family could end up in trouble.

  Maybe I can convince Dad to put Dun Cloch down as an alternate without telling Mum.

  Over the next week, the dining hall becomes noticeably less crowded as more and more people leave Dun Cloch. With Orientation over, I have plenty of time for caidpel—but not enough players. Nearly all of those we started with have left by now. Of those remaining, everyone but the locals are too busy finishing up their own Orientations to make time for it.

  “Bummer, huh?” Alan says when we cancel yet another session because only seven people showed up. “Maybe just as well, though. My mum is hounding me to finish packing so we’ll be ready to leave as soon as they announce the Jewel selections. We finally put down Branson, Missouri, as our alternate, though I pushed for Dun Cloch instead.”

  I’ve done the same, pointing out to Dad that nearly twenty percent of emigrants are opting to stay here. But he refuses to go behind Mum’s back and she’s still totally, irrationally convinced we’ll be picked for Jewel.

  After Alan heads back to the lodgings to pack, I run a few speed drills with the local caidpel enthusiasts so I can at least work up a good sweat. If we do end up staying here, maybe we can eventually convince enough other people to play to start having games again. Lame ones, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

  One week after the Sovereign’s visit, I’m awakened by a happy squeal from Mum. “I knew it! I knew it! Girls! Girls! Wake up and check your tablets—we’re going to Jewel! Haven’t I said all along we were meant to live there, Aidan? Haven’t I?”

  I roll over with a groan to see Mum brandishing her tablet.

  “You have indeed,” Dad says with an indulgent smile, though he sounds pleased, too. “I never should have doubted your intuition.”

  “Hey, look!” my sister exclaims from the bottom bunk. “They sent the whole list of who’s going and…yay! Jana’s family is on it, too!”

  I grab my own tablet off its little shelf behind my head and sure enough, there’s a notice congratulating me on the main screen. I click the link to the complete list and see close to two hundred names displayed—about twice as many as they told us to expect.

  “Wow, looks like we’re going to be awfully busy again,” Adina says then. “Check out the new course schedules they’ve sent us.”

  She’s right. According to this, the next two and a half weeks will be even crazier than our first month in Dun Cloch. Not only will we be drilled on how to behave around the Sovereign and everyone who knows her, we’ll be required to learn reams of information about NuAgra, a corporation the Echtran Council has apparently established in Jewel as cover for so many Echtrans moving there at once.

  I go back to the list of those going and start scrolling through the names, which are in alphabetical order by surname, the three Blairs up near the top. A little further down I see Alan Dempsey and his parents listed, so naming an alternate didn’t hurt their chances after all.

  At breakfast, Adina and Jana greet each other with squeals of delight, hugging and jumping up and down. I’m so far from sharing their happiness I turn away, wondering sourly how much more mischief they’ll get into in Jewel than they have here.

  “Awesome that both our families got picked, huh?” Alan comes up from behind me to clap a hand on my shoulder. “I figured our odds were almost nil. Sounds like this NuAgra place will need a fair number of Ags, though, so I guess it makes sense. We should start getting to know everyone else around our age who’s going, don’t you think?”

  Rather than being contagious, his enthusiasm just irritates me. “Sure, I guess. How many are there, do you know?”

  “Not many—seems to mostly be singles and childless couples going. Including you, your sister and me, I only counted eleven school-age kids and some aren’t in Dun Cloch, yet. On the schedule it said they’ll be coming here for the final training, so they’ll probably arrive soon.”

  The next day is filled with goodbyes, some tearful, as the Jewel hopefuls who weren’t selected finally leave for their alternate destinations. Adina and Jana are especially upset that Clarisse, another girl they’ve hung out with, wasn’t on the list. Mum and Dad also seem sorry to bid farewell to two or three couples they’ve gotten to know since our arrival.

  I never bothered to get particularly close to anyone here, so I don’t have anything to get choked up about except losing even my lame version of caidpel. There’s never been any hint of that “alternate role” Crevan Erc mentioned and I’m virtually certain there won’t be any Populists in Jewel to work with.

  * * *

  The eighty-odd others selected for Jewel arrive the following day from Bailerealta, Ireland, where they did their regular Orientation. Among them are three more teens, who Alan drags me over to meet at dinner that evening.

  “Hi, everyone! Welcome to Dun Cloch. Looks like we’ll all be attending Jewel High School together, huh? I’m—”

  Before he can finish, one of the boys, a tall guy with dark hair, jumps to his feet. “Kira Morain! I couldn’t believe it when I saw your name on the Jewel list—I was a huge caidpel fan back on Mars. You must have been so bummed to leave right before the playoffs.”

  The sympathy in his blue eyes takes some of the sting out of that reminder. “Yeah, moving to Earth definitely wasn’t my idea, but I couldn’t do much about it once my folks committed us.”

  “Especially after they started holding you up as an example on the feeds, I’ll bet. But even if your leaving let my team—the Engineers—make it to the finals, it still seemed wrong for the sport to lose a player like you. Do you think—?”

  “Um, as I was about to say,” Alan interrupts, edging closer to me, “I’m Alan Dempsey and this, obviously, is Kira Morain.”

  The boy who greeted me so enthusiastically flushes slightly. “Oh, er, yeah, sorry. Liam Walsh.” He shakes Alan’s extended hand. “And this is—”

  “Lucas Walsh.” A boy so similar to Liam he must be his twin steps forward. “We’ll both be juniors at Jewel High.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lucas, Liam.” Alan turns to the other newcomer, a girl with bright red hair who hasn’t spoken yet.

  Blushing deeply, she gives us both a tentative smile. “I’m…I’m Erin Campbell. I’m supposed to be a sophomore—tenth grade.”

  “Then you’ll want to meet Grady,” Alan says. “He’s going to be a sophomore, too. Hey, Grady, come here!”

  A similarly shy boy with dark blond hair and brown eyes looks up from a nearby table and Alan motions him over. A moment later Adina and Jana join us, as do three younger kids who’ll be attending Jewel Middle School with Adina.

  Soon all eleven of us are clustered around the table, sharing stories about our lives in Nuath and comparing Dun Cloch and Bailerealta. To my relief and mild surprise, I find myself liking these people I’ll be getting to know a lot better in the weeks and months to come. Maybe, just maybe, leaving Dun Cloch won’t be quite the nightmare I expect.

  The new arrivals spend the next morning settling into temporary lodgings recently vacated by others. After lunch, the future Jewel residents are directed to the same end of the dining hall where we had our initial briefing almost two months ago. A tall blond man, handsome even by our standards, moves to the front and flashes a wide smile.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m Connor, the Echtran Council member ta
sked with overseeing your resettlement on Earth.” One of the four Council Royals, I recall. “Congratulations to all of you on being chosen to live in Jewel, Indiana, our Sovereign’s hometown. That honor was reserved for the very cream of our newest immigrants from Nuath.

  “As you may have been told already, most of you will be working at the NuAgra facility in Jewel. NuAgra’s stated purpose is one of agricultural research, which is why so many of you here are from the Agricultural fine. Of course, there will be jobs there for those of you from other fines, as well.”

  He goes on to explain the history of the company and the Council’s future plans for it, which include it eventually doubling as a center for Echtran government as more and more Nuathans emigrate to Earth over the next decade or two.

  “As the vanguard of what will become an important focal point for our people, you will all have vital parts to play, apart from the valuable Agricultural research you will be doing there. As our numbers continue to grow, keeping the secret of our origins will become progressively more difficult. Therefore, we must begin carefully preparing the ground now for the eventual dissemination of the truth to the Duchas population at large. Much of that preparation will fall to you, as members of what will become the largest integrated community of Duchas and Echtrans on Earth.”

  After a few more platitudes, he introduces Ida Lunn, Head Researcher at NuAgra, who gives us an overview of the research going on there and the sorts of jobs the adults, at least, will have once we arrive in Jewel.

  Finally, Fianna, the same woman who gave us our initial Orientation briefing, comes forward.

  “Over the next two and a half weeks, you will receive initial training on your NuAgra duties along with instruction on how to behave once in Jewel. It will be particularly important to prepare for encounters with the Sovereign, her future Consort, Sean O’Gara, and the other illustrious persons living there, to include four members of the Echtran Council. You will practice striking the right balance between showing proper respect and maintaining the illusion that you and they are all ordinary, Earth-born humans.