Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,37

a dust storm: Mei Lo must retain her leadership, but how can she with everyone seized by Terran-fever? Solution: tell everyone about the Terran threat to annihilate Mars if Mars spills Earth’s dirty little secret. Problem: some idiot will try to use the information to advantage. And get us all killed. Solution: wrest control of the satellites from Earth so we can fire at any weapons or ships they send to destroy us. Problem: Eth says that’s impossible anywhere except on Earth. Solution: … Solution: …

She tossed and turned and thought and repeated her list over and over until she felt like the proverbial dog chasing its own tail. Did dogs really do that, she wondered? She hadn’t observed enough dog behavior to know for certain. Mei Lo. Terran-fever. Terran aggression. Satellites. Ethan. It was no good. Solutions didn’t come because you thought harder and harder about how badly you needed them.

Sometimes, there were no solutions.

17

WHERE YOU SEE FENCES

Within hours of the failure at the satellite facility, Pavel, Ethan, and Brian Wallace were on their way to the New Timbuktu Gold Processing and Re-educational Center for the Retirement of Criminals. Happily for them, the point of these facilities was to keep reprobates in and not to prevent their entry.

Using a combination of Pavel’s knowledge of the medical treatments available to prisoners, Brian Wallace’s understanding of how bribery and procurements were best managed, and Ethan’s skills at persuading computers to perform illegal functions, the three arranged their visit under the auspices of providing arthritis care for Harpreet. Which, according to Pavel, was not normally accorded to prisoners. But the warden, for some reason, made a habit of ordering the injections with a regularity that allowed the additional visit to go unremarked upon.

Gold was no longer processed in the West African location, but the name gave a sort of glamour to the institution. This was useful in keeping at arms-length those elements of the Terran population who disapproved of re-educational imprisonment. In reality, prisoners’ working hours were devoted to ensuring that among the trace minerals which were mined in New Timbuktu, no precious metals or rare earths were accidentally overlooked. The labor was moderately demanding, causing someone in Harpreet’s condition more than a few uncomfortable nights and achy mornings.

Thus she was delighted to be released from labor in order to be seen by a doctor. And she was even more delighted when the assistants of the unknown doctor turned out to be Ethan (in a new body) and Brian Wallace (looking much the same.) Pavel, she immediately accepted as a new friend, expressing remarkably little shock that the three of them had managed to infiltrate the prison.

The true shock was experienced by the would-be rescuers, and it came down to this: Harpreet did not, as it turned out, wish to be rescued.

“What do you mean, exactly, by saying that you’d rather stay here?” demanded Pavel.

“Harpreet is in the habit of stating exactly what she intends to communicate,” said Ethan.

“So I am.” Harpreet smiled and turned her attention to Ethan. “Tell me, son, how do you find your new body?” Her bright eyes rested upon his missing limbs.

“It is sufficient,” he replied, causing Harpreet to laugh softly.

“Ah. Well, sufficiency is something Marsians know how to appreciate.” She sighed. “I believe your sister will have made it home by now.”

Ethan spoke softly. “So I believe.”

“Bringing with her hope wrapped in copper,” added Brian Wallace, with a smile.

“You have a touch of poetry about you, Mr. Wallace,” said Harpreet.

“And more than a touch of the practical, Ma’am,” replied Brian. “Ye really ought to come with us. Young Ethan here needs to consult with ye.”

Harpreet’s dark eyes widened. “Indeed? Tell me, doctor, how much longer do we have for my appointment?”

“They’ll give us another five minutes, max,” replied Pavel.

“Then let us consult now, my friend,” Harpreet said to Ethan.

Very concisely, Ethan recounted his failed mission and the resulting destruction of the building.

“The codes are lost,” said Ethan. “Even I cannot recreate what was destroyed. I wished to know your opinion: ought I to attempt to communicate this failure to the Secretary General? Such communication could draw unwanted attention to us or to Mars.”

“No. I would not communicate failure, if I were you,” said Harpreet. A warm smile suffused her face. “What would you say if I told you knowledge of how to communicate with the Terran satellites can yet be recovered?”

“Indeed?” asked Ethan.

“How?” asked Pavel.

“You must speak with Kazuko Zaifa, formerly employed at the satellite facility