Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,29

like Terrans, to speak with passion about her return to the world she loved, her eagerness for Mars Colonial to continue upon its path of self-sustainability.

The news anchor seemed baffled but pleased at the appearance of this new Jessamyn and thanked her, saying it was an honor to have spent the hour with one of Mars’s true heroes.

But Jessamyn didn’t feel like a hero. She felt like a sister who’d just agreed to let her brother wither upon a strange world.

12

A SNEEZING FIT

Pavel backed Ethan’s chair around the corner. They’d been out of the guard’s line of sight, but Brian Wallace had almost assuredly seen them. Pavel and Ethan could hear Wallace as he blustered through a tale of four monstrous lads in the building.

“I owe them credits,” said Wallace. “They agreed to let me stand guard in exchange for my debt so long as I asked no questions.”

The guard, facing away from the hidden pair, spoke over a com-link. Pavel couldn’t make out his words.

“You can’t put me in a re-education facility,” pleaded Wallace. “I’m due to be four-bodied in just a week. Please don’t turn me—”

“Silence,” shouted the officer.

Brian complied, except for a series of sneezes and apologies.

Pointing behind them, Ethan whispered, “That way,” and sent the chair zipping back down the corridor.

“Using brief bursts only,” said Ethan, “I am going to reactivate vid feeds throughout the building so that I can direct us along a safe route. Chair control is shifting to you. Do you understand?”

Pavel looked down and placed his hands over controls just where someone might guide such a chair along from behind. “Got it,” said Pavel.

“Down this corridor and take the second left,” ordered Ethan.

They flew along the corridor, Ethan calling out directions, Pavel steering flawlessly through a veritable maze of rooms and halls and corridors. The swift turns added to the nauseating quality of the situation; Pavel knew what happened to lawbreakers facing secures in red armor. Lucca had considered it good dinnertime conversation.

Seeing an exit ahead, Pavel breathed a sigh of relief.

“No!” Ethan cried in a harsh whisper.

Pavel heard, but he’d already gunned the chair to the beckoning door with its promise of liberty. They soared across a wide breezeway and a shot echoed beside them. The door was a mere handful of meters away.

“I’m good, I’m good,” called Pavel, meaning to reassure Ethan about the shot as he sped toward the door.

“Turn back!” cried Ethan, not keeping his voice low this time.

“The door’s right here,” Pavel said, bringing the chair to a sudden halt before their access to freedom.

“There are guards on the other side,” Ethan replied tersely. “Turn us back around.”

“They’ll shoot at us again,” replied Pavel.

“They will not. They are racing to join the others out of doors. Two already await our appearance with raised weapons.”

“Got it,” said Pavel, spinning the chair back and heading at a high speed down the hall once more.

“Right here,” said Ethan, his voice pinched.

Years of habituation to the sounds made by the injured caused Pavel to look down at his companion. Blood seeped along Ethan’s shirt from a wound to his upper arm.

“You were shot,” gasped Pavel.

“Correct,” replied Ethan. “Turn left here and then left again.”

“You okay?” It was the question of a friend and not the question of a trained medical professional.

Ethan responded with a direction to turn right and then said, “I will require medical attention presently.”

“Shizer, man,” said Pavel. “I’m so sorry.” The wound was his fault. He should’ve listened to Ethan’s “No!” but he’d seen that door. He’d seen escape. Or thought he had.

“Around the next corner,” said Ethan, “We should encounter the secure who is holding Brian Wallace. I believe you installed an overdrive booster on this chair? I suggest I engage it to allow us to use the chair as a ramming device.”

“I got nothing better,” said Pavel.

But as they rounded the corner, Ethan’s hand upon the overdrive control, they saw the red-armored officer standing with his hands held up in surrender, Wallace beside him holding the guard’s gun. It was too late to slow Ethan’s chair; they crashed into him and the guard toppled and did not rise again.

“Took your bloody time, eh, lads?” asked Wallace as the chair came to a sudden halt beside him.

“How did you …?” asked Pavel, staring at the downed officer.

“I manufactured a sneezing fit,” replied Wallace. “Made m’self appear weak. He lowered his guard, and, well …” Wallace pointed at the weapon he clutched, grinning. “Now then, there were four