Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,24
Jessamyn.
“Well there you have it, folks. She travels over one hundred million kilometers and she misses the one thing I spend all day trying to keep out of the house!”
The moment the vid recorders turned off, the newswoman’s fake smile disappeared. After a cursory thank you to the Mars Raiders, the anchor turned to the Secretary and murmured, “Well, I guess you didn’t choose them for their verbal skills, did you?”
Jess flushed and stood to leave.
“Oh-oh-oh,” said Nessa Niedermaier, reaching to grab Jess by the shoulder. “Just one moment. We’ve got you back on camera this afternoon with the board of directors, and that gives us just enough time to get the two of you into New Houston Outfitters for a fresh new look.”
Crusty stared at her as though considering which of the several salient phrases from his colorful vocabulary might best suit the occasion.
“I’ll be wearing my Academy whites for all future public appearances,” said Jess curtly.
“Hmm, well, we were thinking of an image that your average girl-about-Mars could relate to a bit better,” said Nessa.
“Her whites will be fine,” said the Secretary calmly. “I believe this is the ideal opportunity to inspire Mars’s future generation of scientists and explorers. Wouldn’t you agree, Nessa?”
The events coordinator made a series of abbreviated noises before landing on what it was she had to say. “Very well, Madam Secretary. If you think that would be best.”
“It’s settled then,” said Mei Lo. “And Crusty? Feel free to don work coveralls if you’d prefer. We have another generation of builders and engineers to inspire as well.”
Nessa’s powdered face colored visibly, but a small squeak of alarm was her only audible objection.
“Jaarda, I’ll see you back at my office at 14:00 sharp,” said the Secretary. “We’ve still got things to discuss.”
The studio, now empty of all excepting Crusty and Jessamyn, felt suddenly like that last place Jess wished to be.
“I’m going to suit up,” said Jess.
“You feel like takin’ a walk over to the Galleon?” asked Crusty.
Jess nodded. Minutes later the two strode side by side toward MCC’s largest spacecraft hangar. To one side of the Galleon was the space where the Red Dawn should have rested. Someone had piled it with crates and equipment, and the sight felt to Jessamyn like the desecration of a grave.
“Galleon’s in much better shape than she oughta be, by rights,” said Crusty, interrupting her morbid thoughts via their private comm.
“Is she?” asked Jess.
“Well,” said Crusty, bumping a gloved hand against his helmet as he tried (and failed) to scratch his chin. “I reckon she’s good for another couple trips before she starts complaining too bad.”
Crusty grew talkative as he took Jessamyn around the hull of the Galleon, pointing out minor repairs his crew had completed overnight. “Talked that event-nut of the Secretary’s into the idea that the ship oughta look like something special for folks to come see the evening after the big celebratory shindig.”
Neither of them had discussed the memorial service or the celebration. Jessamyn understood that the citizens of Mars deserved these planetary holidays to acknowledge the recent losses as well as the mission’s success. She just wished she didn’t have to be a part of it.
“I know you and the Secretary been talking,” murmured Crusty. “Just so’s you know, there’s nothing standing in the way of you taking this ship back up right now,” said Crusty. “Well, nothin’ I can’t get to in the next two days. Air filter needs a good wash-down. Picked up all kinds of microbes off you and me from our time on Earth. Stuff’s been reproducing like crazy on the trip back here. Thought about callin’ in the interns at Planetary Agriculture to have a peek.”
“You’re telling me this ship can fly a two-month mission now?” asked Jessamyn.
“Sure. Long as you get the Secretary’s say-so,” replied Crusty.
Jess reached for her oxygenation dial. Abruptly, it felt as if there wasn’t enough air to breathe in her suit.
“Hey, you okay? I thought this’d be good news. I say something wrong?” asked Crusty.
Jess pressed her gloved hand against Crusty’s forearm, managing a small squeeze. “It’s great news,” she said. “But you’re keeping quiet about it, right?”
“I ain’t what you might call the talkative sort,” Crusty said. “In case it escaped your attention.”
Jess chortled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d found something amusing. “You heard about the … faction that wants to trade with Earth?”
Crusty snorted in indignation. “My granny’s elastic knickers—bunch of blamed fools is what they are.”