Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,19

of stability,” lamented Number Two. “But her government is rife with instability.”

Harpreet nodded and listened.

The Chancellor, it seemed, had a predilection for sending top government personnel to this particular prison. The hard labor wasn’t as likely to be the end of you as, say, the camps in Antarctica or Devon Island. Of course, Lucca had no problem summarily ending the lives of those she deemed of no further usefulness. Or those who simply angered her on a bad day. The political prisoners in New Timbuktu thus had some hope of being of further use to their former employer.

“And it is your desire to work once more for so corrupt an individual?” Harpreet often asked those who brought her their confessions.

The answers varied. Some swore they would die before aiding Lucca again. (Harpreet even believed some who said this.) Others said they would jump at any chance to leave New Timbuktu. No one, however, refused to answer Harpreet’s innocent-sounding question. Harpreet was too easy to confide in.

Thus the Mars-born woman began to form a list of the stories of those who wished to see a different sort of government upon Earth. She had no means of knowing if her information would ever prove useful; she simply gathered it as one might gather and sort interesting-looking rocks back home. And at the same time, she appreciated the opportunity to be of use and encouragement to those who were part of her new life.

One day, she made the acquaintance of Kazuko Zaifa, a scientist who had formerly worked in Budapest at the facility governing the satellites circling Mars.

“They accused me of leaking information to inciters,” she explained. “Information which allowed the inciters to breach security and infiltrate the building.”

“Ah,” said Harpreet. “And you were innocent.”

Kazuko nodded. “But they needed to blame someone. From what I’ve heard here, the Chancellor does not respond well to scenarios concluding without blame and punishment being assigned.”

Harpreet nodded. “It is a common failing of the dictatorial.”

“I’m lucky to be alive, really,” said Kazuko. “And luckier to have escaped interrogation with the Chancellor’s office. Security just threw me in here after asking a few questions about how it was possible for my system to have been hacked.”

“There is a mercy, certainly, in the discovery that we—or our life’s work—might be less significant than we had believed,” said Harpreet.

Kazuko laughed softly. “I suppose so. If I’d worked anywhere that really mattered to the government, I’d be dead.”

“Indeed,” replied Harpreet. “My friend, you have never asked how I came to be here.”

Kazuko flushed. “It felt like bad manners to ask you.”

“You are here today as a result of crimes committed by me,” said Harpreet. “Should I find myself someday able, I shall procure your freedom. In the meantime, I crave your forgiveness.”

Kazuko sat still for several minutes, digesting the news. Then she looked at Harpreet’s soft eyes and murmured, “You’ve been the truest friend I’ve known. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Not everyone shared Kazuko’s qualms about manners, but few ever thought to ask why Harpreet had been imprisoned. Harpreet was not surprised. She knew from long observation that most people were more interested in talking about themselves than listening to others.

So she gathered and listened, sorted and waited.

9

LOOKS LIKE DIRT

The weeks following Pavel’s new alliance with Ethan and Brian Wallace were challenging ones. Pavel had never faced considerations as basic as “Where will we sleep?” or “Where does food come from?” It had come as a shock to Pavel to learn that he was financially destitute. He had credits aplenty, but he had no safe means by which to access them if he wanted to remain hidden.

Ethan, of course, had no credits in his acquired body. Brian Wallace, however, was a very wealthy man, who had laid careful plans to be certain he was never cut off from his credits.

Unfortunately, Brian’s wealth could not buy the three shelter from among his former acquaintances. After a few hours, or a night at most, former friends confessed their reluctance to act in a way that would set them at odds with Brian’s cousin, the head of Clan Wallace.

“I’m sorry, truly, but I can’t risk her disfavor,” ran the responses time after time.

“I’m fine living on the ship,” Pavel declared, stoic.

“Aye, lad, but he’s not,” replied Brian, indicating Ethan.

“I will adapt,” said Ethan in a flat voice that little suggested how difficult it might be.

And so the three lived on their stolen ship, using Brian Wallace’s credits and planning for Ethan’s attempt to complete his