Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,23
and twos. “Do the people who say they want us to trade with Earth really mean it? They’re not just, I don’t know, flirting with the idea?”
“They believe and argue with passion that it is in Mars’s best interest to re-open trade,” replied the Secretary.
Jess didn’t know what to say. She only knew she would never, ever, want to be in a position to bargain with Lucca Brezhnaya or her government.
Mei Lo sighed softly. “I’ve managed to keep peace by promising to carefully examine the possibility of sending a negotiations team in an annum. That’s what this has come to: delay as my best option. My government has maintained that the Galleon cannot fly again so soon after her recent voyages. I never thought I’d say this, but there is a mercy in our having only one space-worthy craft.”
The finality of Mei Lo’s rationale sank in and Jessamyn felt as though ice ran through her veins instead of blood. “I see,” she said quietly.
“Give everyone an annum to cool this Terran fever, and perhaps we can send a mission to rescue our friends without the danger of awakening the Terran beast that will turn upon and devour us.”
“I see,” Jess repeated. But then she wondered. Did she see it clearly? Or was she simply prejudiced against the idea of interactions with Terrans because they’d captured her brother? She looked at the blurred outlines of the people walking past Mei Lo’s office. Maybe she wasn’t seeing things clearly because she’d clouded her vision with anger and hatred.
“Madam Secretary, do you think maybe … is it possible Terrans no longer present a threat to us?” asked Jessamyn.
“Jessamyn,” said the Secretary, her head shaking.
But Jess pushed ahead. “Maybe I’ve just been blinded because they hurt people I loved. I mean, they thought we were inciters—terrorists.”
“Jess,” said Mei Lo, more sharply.
Jessamyn looked up to see Mei Lo closing her eyes and pressing her forefinger and thumb along the bridge of her nose. “They are dangerous,” she said at last. “You know this.”
“I know,” said Jessamyn. What had she been thinking? She knew the truth about Lucca Brezhnaya. She sighed. “I just want my brother back.”
“So do I,” said Mei Lo. “So do I.”
Nessa Niedermaier bustled in. “Madam Secretary? Pilot Jaarda? We’re ready for you in studio one.”
“Bells of Hades,” muttered the Secretary. “Raider Jaarda? You and I will continue this discussion at a later time. Nessa, lead on.”
The hour-long interview with Mars Global Vid proved as much of a challenge for Jess as her exchange with the Secretary. The news anchor asked ridiculous questions: Do Terrans look just like us? Were you able to understand them when they spoke? These, she alternated with questions Jessamyn found too deeply private to answer. What was your lowest point, personally, on the mission? How did you find yourself able to move past the incredible sorrow of the loss of three crew members? Of the Red Dawn?
Jessamyn hid her anguish under a cover of irritability and allowed Crusty to handle increasing numbers of questions.
“Crustegard—we’re all friends here—can I call you Crusty?” asked the eager interviewer. “Did you encounter actual body-swappers?”
The mechanic cleared his throat with a low rumble Jess felt certain hid laughter. “Mighty difficult to avoid ‘em if your intention is to trade what’s in your ship’s hold for what they’ve got planet-side.”
“Hmm,” replied the anchor. “Of course. What we’re all wondering though—and I think I speak for everyone at home—is … how did you feel standing in the presence of someone who wasn’t even wearing the skin they were born with?”
Crusty stared at the face of the woman interviewing him. Jess saw him pause as he regarded her lack of First Wrinkle, her exaggerated eyelashes, her unnaturally colored lips. “There’s plenty enough folk here on Mars dressed in somethin’ that don’t resemble what God gave ‘em to start with. I reckon the Terran I spent my time with would fit in just fine here.”
“Well, that just about wraps it up for our time here this morning,” said the woman. “One last question for each of you. Let’s start with you, Crusty: what did you find yourself missing most?”
“Bein’ left alone,” said Crusty, eliciting laughter from around the room.
The anchor smiled brightly and turned to Jessamyn. “And yourself? What did you miss most?”
Jessamyn’s heart beat faster. Her mind threw answers at her, loud and fast. Sunrise over Mount Cha Su Bao. Rations with my parents. Playing Monopoly. Scrubbing the solars. Flying. Pavel. “The smell of peroxide,” murmured