Martians Abroad

by Carrie Vaughn

  “Not all,” Charles said. “But mostly, I think.”

  “Huh.” I looked around with new eyes, mentally putting price tags on everything. Yeah, somebody was showing off here. The school wanted to impress the parents and investors, and the students were all trying to impress one another.

  “It’s kind of small,” Angelyn said. She had stopped beside me and was also looking around, but her gaze was narrow, appraising, skeptical: she had seen better. “I guess there’s only so much you can do at a school. My parents have thrown some really epic parties.”

  “What for?” I blurted.

  Angelyn looked at me with that expression people got when I’d said something strange and alien. “Because it’s fun,” she said.

  Fun? I wondered. All that effort, preparation, expense, anxiety—and it was supposed to be fun?

  I must have looked astonished, because she said, “Do you really not have parties on Mars?”

  “We do,” I said, defensive. “We have concerts and birthdays and holidays and everything. It’s usually just getting together in one of the atrium gardens and hanging out and eating.”

  “Then it’s the same thing,” she said, smiling. “Relax and enjoy yourself.”

  Right. I felt like I was accelerating into an asteroid field.

  When Ethan spotted us, he came over to say hello. He must have arrived earlier and had been here the whole time, clustered with another group of students and talking. He looked happy to see me.

  “Wow, Polly, you look great!” He looked me up and down, and I wanted to cross my arms and hide. The whole point was for people to look at me, right? And suddenly my hair itched and my dress felt crooked. I wanted to fidget. But I smiled. With my friends around me, the place didn’t feel so alien.

  “Thanks,” I managed to get out before I completely folded in on myself. “So do you.”

  He was wearing a steel gray suit with a red waistcoat, which made him look tall, confident, and rich. Ethan Achebe of the Zeusian Mining Enterprise Achebes. It all made sense. He was here as a symbol for his whole family.

  And Charles and I were a symbol of Mars. What the heck did people see when they looked at us? The rugged young man in the alien brown uniform and the girl who looked like a dust-filled sunset?

  “Charles, why didn’t you dress up?” Ethan asked.

  “This is dressed up, on Mars,” he said. Ethan waited for further explanation, but Charles remained silent. He wasn’t going to explain himself.

  We all looked grown-up. It was like we were getting glimpses of the people we’d be in ten years. Daunting.

  “Oh, my parents are here!” Angelyn exclaimed, and ran off.

  I looked to see where she went: a man and woman, obviously her parents. She had the man’s refined chin and nose and the woman’s long legs and dark hair. They were dressed just as spectacularly as she was, him in a tailored black suit and her in a shimmering dark dress.

  Two parents. And to think, Mom handled both me and Charles all by herself. Charles had planted himself like a guard at the edge of the room, watching everything. Ethan and I were suddenly by ourselves, side by side. And that was okay, I decided.

  “You have any family here?” Ethan asked.

  “No. At least not that I know of. When my grandfather left for Mars, he pretty much cut all his ties to Earth. How about you?”

  “I’ve got a cousin who runs the trading office here on Earth. She’s supposed to be here. I’ve never met her. But you know, family’s family. I’m sure she’s great. And my parents will want her to check up on me.”

  If we had any family on Earth, none of us knew about it. Grandpa Newton abandoned everything, changed his name, and helped found Colony One. We just had Mom back on Mars, and an anonymous, medically selected sperm donor for a father. I had never felt the lack of a biological family. On Mars, we were all family, in a way. This whole biology thing seemed … contrived. We’d beaten biology just by living on Mars at all. But the connections seemed very important here.

  Ethan’s cousin found him, then. Wearing silky trousers and a tailored jacket in bright colors, she was short, stocky, and vibrant, with brown skin and a wide smile. She didn’t look anything like Ethan, who stood tall, dark, and spindly beside her. That didn’t seem to matter; she hugged him and gushed over him all the same.

  Catering staff in spiffy suits seemed to be running the whole thing. Stage-managing it, even. After a stretch of time in which everyone got drinks and we all stood around talking and complimenting one another, we were guided to assigned seats at the tables. Charles and I were placed at a table with Angelyn and her parents, a serious-looking couple, and an Earth student I didn’t know well and his parents.

  I wasn’t sure, but Charles and I might have been the only students here who didn’t have an adult relative with us. Even Boris from the Moon had Earth family looking out for him. It made me feel like we’d sneaked in, and as soon as someone discovered us, we’d get thrown out.

  The families with enough money to send their kids to Galileo were dynasties. The names were important, representing decades or centuries of wealth and power. That was the connection, not so much the biology. Again, I felt like a fluke, because all people knew about me was that I was from Mars. I was here representing an entire planet. Maybe Charles had the right idea—if we were going to be aliens anyway, we might as well act like it.

  “How does it feel, being the first Martians to attend Galileo?” Angelyn’s mother, Ms. Chou, asked in that beaming way that meant she was expecting a polite answer.

  I didn’t know what answer she expected, so all I could do was say what I thought. “It’s weird. Mars is Mars, it’s different, but people expect us to get everything about Earth, you know? I’d like to see you guys come to Colony One and try to understand everything. Ow—” I blurted, then clamped my mouth shut to stay quiet. Charles had dug his heel into my foot under the table.

  “It’s an honor,” he said evenly, as if reading from a script. He probably was. He’d probably memorized a whole list of reasonable responses to standard questions. He always thought of these things. “We’re happy to represent Mars among the best students throughout the solar system. We only hope we can live up to such high expectations.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Angelyn said, beaming. “I think Charles may be the smartest person here. And Polly … well, I told you all about Polly. She’s fearless.”

  My face went as red as my dress. I wanted to blurt out that it was nothing. I hadn’t done anything special, I’d just done the reasonable thing, the logical thing. I was just Polly—the weird Martian kid.

  Charles rested his heel on my foot again, threatening to do harm. So I kept my mouth shut and smiled shyly.

  Mr. Chou said, “Your mother is Martha Newton, isn’t she? Director of operations at Colony One?”

  I blinked, surprised. “Yeah. You know her?”

  “Only by reputation,” he said. “She’s quite influential, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t know—” This time when Charles tried to step on my foot, I yanked it out of the way.

  My brother sat back in his chair, hands steepled together, kind of sinister. “Polly and I aren’t really old enough to be involved in her work, so I couldn’t say. Do you have a lot of dealings with Mars, Mr. Chou?”

  “The company I work for deals in hydroponics-equipment manufacturing and development. It’s always been my hope that we could develop closer ties with Mars, both politically and economically. Colony One has become one of our chief competitors.”

  “You’d like to buy out the manufacturing interests on Colony One, you mean,” Charles said, and Mr. Chou was left staring, his smile frozen.

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, son,” he finally answered, with a stifled chuckle. Charles just kept staring, until the older man dropped his gaze.

  Ms. Chou said casually, gesturing with her empty fork, “We hear so many rumors here about what’s really going on all the way out there, with no
way to check, because we only have the information that the governing board—people like your mother—deems fit to tell the rest of the system. It’s just so interesting, I think—hearing about it firsthand.”

  “I’m sure you get plenty of independently reported information,” Charles said. “You’re just hoping we’ll let something slip.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you trying to get us to talk about Mom to give you some kind of inside information?”

  “I’m just trying to make polite conversation,” she said. Her glare, matched with a sweet smile, was cutting, like she’d won a point.

  “Anyone want dessert?” Angelyn said, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder at the table full of cake. She was glaring at her parents—and at me. If she could have reached me under the table, she probably would have kicked me, too.

  “Yes,” I said, and we both scooted our chairs out and made a dash for it.

  By the time we’d reached the cake, she was frowning. “I’m sorry. They said they wanted to meet you, and I thought it was because of what happened at Yosemite, so I asked for us all to sit together. I didn’t know they’d grill you about Martian politics.”

  “Not that I even know anything about Martian politics,” I said. “But Charles seemed to enjoy it. I’m sorry he’s so … so…” I couldn’t event think of what he was.

  “We’re supposed to be having fun,” she muttered.

  “Charles is,” I said. “Didn’t you notice?”

  The whole banquet production had two purposes, I decided. One was to have conversations like Charles and the Chous had just had, where they tried to one-up each other or get information without seeming like they were trying to do so. The other was to show everyone else what a good time you could have. Everybody laughed a little too hard, and the smiles were a little too fake.

  But I did have a good time—eating. I tried at least one of everything I couldn’t identify that wasn’t meat. I ate way too much.

  Then the music started.

  “Oh, there’s going to be dancing!” Angelyn said, her eyes lighting up. “Do I even dare ask Harald?” Harald—the upperclass guy she liked. She was looking at him across the room. All the upperclass students looked so much more comfortable here. I didn’t think I’d ever get that way. Assuming I managed not to get kicked out.

  The band was live—more than a dozen musicians, which made it bigger than any band I’d ever heard. We had live music and musicians on Mars. Concerts in the atrium. Quieter, usually.

  The sound filled the banquet hall. It was almost too loud—I’d have to shout to talk. By this time, the adults had all collected on one side of the room and seemed to be gossiping. About politics, money, each other—us. I hadn’t realized what a big deal Galileo was until I saw how pleased everyone seemed about being here and showing off.

  The band played something old-fashioned and jazzy. As Angelyn said, it was music you could dance to. I would have preferred something classical, that I could sit and listen to, like we did at home. I was tired, and the thought of dancing in Earth gravity made my bones feel like lead. But I wasn’t going to be the first one to leave. I could hear it all now: those Martian kids, so antisocial, so strange.

  They were probably saying that anyway.

  A lot of people were dancing now. Angelyn was still watching Harald, her brow furrowed. He glanced this way once—and smiled at her. I nudged her and said, “Be fearless.” That seemed to settle it for her. Straightening her shoulders, she walked over to him. I didn’t hear what she said to him, but he smiled wider, and a minute later they walked together to the middle of the floor. I could see in seconds they were both good at dancing, and Angelyn never looked away from him.

  I was left holding a glass of punch and watching, and I didn’t even mind. Ethan drifted over, his hands locked behind his back, and I expected some pithy observation about how great everything was. But he pointed over his shoulder to the dancing.

  “Polly. You want to?”

  I didn’t know how to dance, but I didn’t say that. “How can you have the energy for it after all this?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be beat tomorrow. But for now, why not have fun?” He was smiling, not having to fake enjoying himself. Good for him.

  “Ethan, I don’t think I can even—”

  Then Tenzig came over from the side, like he was trying to sneak up on me, but not very hard. He looked Ethan up and down, then focused on me. His smile seemed sly.

  “Are you going to dance, Polly?”

  Ethan was giving him a strange look, and I felt suddenly queasy. “I was just trying to decide.”

  “Come on. Let’s go.” He tipped his head, a suave gesture.

  I looked back and forth between them. Ethan’s brow was raised, hopeful. Tenzig held his hand out, demanding.

  This was a simple problem. I ought to be able to figure this out. Why couldn’t I figure this out? It was just dancing. Say yes to one of them, or no to both. But why did they even have to ask? Either one of them? At the same time? Or I could walk away.

  I couldn’t figure it out. So I set down my glass of punch and left. Walked right in between them, marching away to the far wall, past the dessert tables and to the door. I could leave the whole party. I didn’t need to be here. No one would miss me.

  Stanton was standing by the main door, the one we’d come in. She wasn’t in her usual gray uniform, but her black gown, floor length with long sleeves, might as well have been a uniform. She was scanning the crowd with a pleased, inward smile, like she had orchestrated a complicated plan and was watching it unfold flawlessly. I wondered what kind of report about all this she was going to be sending to people like my mother. It made me want to do something like tip over the punch bowl, just to be contrary. But I didn’t want to spend another six weeks on restrictions.

  I wasn’t going to try sneaking past her. There had to be another way out of this cave.

  “Polly, what’s wrong?”

  I jumped, flinching like someone had set off an alarm behind me. I was going insane. It was just Ladhi, looking wide-eyed and earnest.

  “I thought this whole thing was supposed to be fun,” I muttered.

  “Oh, my gosh, it is! I danced with Boris! Did you see us?”

  I glared. How dare she be more socially well-adjusted than me. “I’m not interested in dancing. I don’t know why everyone else is.”

  “Doesn’t anyone go dancing on Mars?”

  “Yes, of course people dance on Mars, but not—” Not like this, with all the social rules and nice dresses and people saying things they didn’t mean or that meant something other than what they were saying, and impossible decisions like what to do when two guys asked you to dance at the same time. I crossed my arms and looked away. “I’m just in a bad mood.”

  Her brow furrowed; she looked at a loss. I felt bad for snapping at her. But not bad enough to say anything about it.

  “Well,” she said, shrugging a little, “can I help?”

  “I think I just need to be alone for a little while.”

  She hesitated, then wandered back to the dance floor, Boris, and whatever.

  The hall had plenty of corners for me to hide in, and that was what I planned on doing—sulking until the party broke up and I could go back to the dorm without anyone noticing. Really no point to the fancy clothes after all, was there? Well, now I knew.

  I must have been standing there fifteen minutes, staring at nothing in particular, when I heard my name. “Polly?”

  Tenzig approached, holding two glasses, head tilted in query. He’d followed me.

  I glared. “I’m not interested in dancing.”

  “You really should try it. But for now I just wanted to see if you’d like a drink. Or something.” He held out one of the fancy punch glasses, filled with purplish drink.

  “You’re being awfully nice all of a sudden.”

  “I don’t know what gave you the idea that I’m not a perfectly nice guy.”

  “Because
you’re kind of a jerk.”

  He ducked his head, hiding a smile. “Come on. You just have to get to know me.”

  If I didn’t know better, he seemed like he actually was trying to be nice. I took the glass he offered and drank a sip. Just fruity punch. No itching powder or hot sauce or poison or anything. I drank another sip.

  “Thanks,” I said. “You know, you should ask Marie to dance. She really likes you.”

  “But I want to dance with you. I wasn’t trying to scare you or put you on the spot or anything back there.”

  “I wasn’t scared,” I said.

  He brightened. “Prove it. Come dance. Really, there’s nothing to it.”

  It was half-dare, half-earnest request. Now, when it was just the two of us, I couldn’t find a reason to walk away. “All right, then. If you say so.”

  He stuck his elbow toward me, and I knew what to do with it because I’d seen couples walking around like this all evening. I set the punch glass on a nearby table, tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow, and together we walked to the open space of the dance floor just as the band started a new song.

  We had music and dancing on Mars—of course we did. I even recognized the tune, something that got played over and over because it was familiar. But I’d never danced the way I’d seen couples here dancing, two by two, as if it meant something. Not even with Beau. We’d held hands at concerts, that was it. Courtship rituals of the common Earth human. What did I think I was doing?

  But Tenzig knew what he was doing, just like he always did, and he put my left hand on his right shoulder, his right hand on my left hip. Clasping our free hands, we were locked in formation.

  “Just move along with the beat,” he said. “Follow my lead.”

  I was so nervous I had a hard time even listening to the music. Again, I wondered when the fun was supposed to start. Though Tenzig seemed to be having a fine old time—his smile was warm, and he never looked away from me. Disconcerting, really. Especially the way his attention made me flush. My toes flushed, feeling warm and tingly inside my sandals—which it turned out, made even my feet feel sexy.