Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,41
kills them all?”
“Hold up a minute, kid,” said Crusty. “You’re just wasting fuel flappin’ around at that altitude.” He rubbed his gnarled hands back and forth along his work coveralls. “Now, the way I see it, that feller Wallace has enough connections to keep a whole army of Ethans and Pavels safe, even on Earth. I reckon I got to know him better than the rest of you, on account of staying with him when you were off in Budapest. He’s a smart man. And loyal. Plus he’s in real good with that family of his. Clan Wallace.”
Jess looked up. “You think they’re okay, then?”
“I do. If I was a betting man, I’d place water creds on it,” said Crusty. “You head back for Earth—now or in an annum—and get Clan Wallace on the comm and you’ll find out I was right.”
Jess nodded. Her body felt tired. So tired. But at the same time, there was a certain clarity afforded by the lateness or earliness of the hour. Her mind felt crisp, like the air in the house when the heater malfunctioned. It wasn’t something you wanted to live with all the time, but the briskness rendered everything in sharp delineation.
“Now, Harpreet,” continued Crusty, “She’s made of tough stone. Take more’n a few sandstorms to wear her down. Way I see it, Kipper’s the only wild card. She might not have an annum in her.”
“She might be dead already,” said Jess.
Crusty frowned and scratched the beard growing apologetically on his chin. “Cavanaugh don’t think so. Funny thing they do out in Squyres Station. They beacon all the kids—soon as they can walk. Now these beacons emit a certain signature so long as you’re alive. Once you’re dead, it changes to a different signature.”
Jessamyn nodded. She’d heard of the practice, common in smaller communities, especially those where dust storms raged for months on end.
“And here’s the funny bit,” said Crusty. “Back when we was still friendly with Earth, a couple folks from Mars got themselves new bodies and the beacons just up and quit inside the old body. Not the dead-person signal, not the live-person signal—nothin’.”
“That’s weird,” said Jess.
“Separatin’ a mind from a body’s weird, period,” said Crusty. “But the beacons don’t like it, apparently. I let Cavanaugh have a look at the ship’s records on account of he said the Galleon could recognize Kip’s beacon.”
“And?” asked Jess. “Is she … alive?”
Crusty shrugged. “According to the ship, she was still alive and in her own body the day we left Earth.”
“Wow,” said Jess.
“So you can see where her brother’s feelin’ a bit anxious. And of the three raiders, I got to admit, she’s the one I’m feelin’ most fretful about. Don’t know if she’s got what it takes … I don’t know, kid. So I said Cavanaugh could talk to you.”
It was everything Jessamyn wanted—a compelling reason to flee Mars in defiance of MCC. To sit behind the controls of the Galleon once more, to take destiny into her own hands. She could do it. She could feel how right it would be, going back for her brother, seeing Pavel again, rescuing the other raiders. She could seize the opportunity.
But at what cost?
She’d be in trouble once she returned, but that was irrelevant—a little nothing in the face of such stakes. Jess was more afraid of causing harm to Mei Lo’s government, which she feared would in turn spell a slow death for Mars Colonial. Or what if her rescue attempt caught Lucca’s notice, somehow provoking an attack on Mars?
The second fear—that Mars would be annihilated—would remain even if they waited an annum to attempt a rescue. That was a risk so long as Mars Colonial had no means of defending herself. But going now might speed up the process of getting those defenses in place. Then, even if some trade-crazed fool on Mars attracted Lucca’s attention, Mars would be safe.
“Do you think that stealing the Galleon—” Jess broke off. It was a horrible act to contemplate, when she heard herself saying it aloud, but she pushed on. “Do you think it would hurt Mei Lo’s standing?”
Crusty investigated his growing beard once again, sighing. At last he said, “I ain’t no politician, but I reckon it’d make her look weak to folks.”
Jess collapsed her face into her hands, elbows supporting her against the table. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Don’t mean it’s more’n she can handle,” added Crusty. “I reckon folks as calls her weak are gonna have their words force-fed