as crew?”
“I don’t know Jones or Smith,” he replied, “But I went through the Academy with Cavanaugh. He was a good man. And he’s Kip’s own brother.”
“Of course,” said Jess, shaking off her doubts.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a few things on my to-do list.” He stepped into the hall mumbling to himself. “First off is that durned air filter.”
Jess watched as he began fiddling with an overhead panel, muttering to himself about the proliferation of microbial life-forms.
But his work was interrupted moments later by a too-familiar voice.
“Oh, there you two are,” said Nessa Niedermaier. “You’re up bright and early! How perfect. This gives us just enough time.”
“Time for what?” Crusty grumbled his question, obviously annoyed by the interruption.
“You’ve got pictures this morning,” replied Nessa, smiling brightly. “With the Red Galleon.”
“Aphrodite’s hair curlers,” Crusty cursed. “So we do.”
Nessa chose to ignore Crusty’s language and smiled at Jessamyn, raising a crisp and obviously new set of Academy whites. “Ta-da!” said the events coordinator.
Jess felt a scowl forming but hastily wiped it off her face. No doubt Nessa thought of herself as doing her part for Mars.
“Brand new!” Nessa smiled brightly at Crusty, holding a crisp-looking pair of coveralls toward their intended recipient.
“Oh, for the love of Ares,” mumbled Crusty.
“We should have just enough time to make sure we’ve got the sizes right,” concluded Nessa.
Jessamyn’s new whites itched and poked and felt completely awful. Crusty looked equally uncomfortable in the coveralls, starched and pressed to within an inch of standing up by themselves in a corner.
The two were photographed alongside the Red Galleon, under the Red Galleon, and aboard the Red Galleon, Crusty muttering under his breath every time cameras got too close to an area he hadn’t polished ‘til it shone.
The photo session, which lasted several hours, was only a prelude to another round of interviews (which Jess endured) and two school visits (which Jess enjoyed.) It was nearly time for evening rations before the Mars Raiders were finished for the day, but before releasing them from MCC’s brightly-lit hangar, where they’d returned for a few last photographs, Nessa spent an inordinate amount of time going over the schedule for the planetary celebration the following day.
Ms. Niedermaier sensed the Mars Raiders’ lack of enthusiasm but mistook it for fatigue. “You poor things,” she said. “Now make sure to get lots of beauty rest for the big day tomorrow!”
Jessamyn’s heart skipped a beat in fear at the phrase “big day,” but of course tomorrow wasn’t the big day at all, as far as she was concerned. The day after the celebration would be the Big Day.
Once the events coordinator left them in peace, Crusty switched his helmet to a private channel and let out a loud sigh. “Well, that was an entire day wasted. Looks likes I ain’t getting much sleep tonight.”
“You want help scrubbing the air filter?” asked Jess.
Crusty laughed. “Naw, kid. Gonna leave it for tomorrow so the interns can have one last peek. You get some sleep. ‘Sides, when was the last time you scrubbed a filter?”
Jessamyn blushed. Filter-scrubbing was reserved for under-achieving Academy students.
“I thought as much,” said Crusty, chuckling.
Jess took a long look up at the ship. “What if I’m making the wrong decision, Crusty?”
Crusty shook his head. “Kid, from what I seen, God gave you an extra helping when it came to that grey stuff between your ears.”
Jess felt her cheeks flushing with color.
“Give it to me in percentages, kid—how certain are you feeling that you’re doin’ what’s right?”
She shook her head. “I can’t answer it like that.” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “But it feels right.”
Crusty shrugged. “Go home. Get some shut-eye. Meet me back here in the morning before the big shindig.”
“What about you? Don’t you need sleep?” asked Jess.
“Ornery cusses like me don’t need much,” said Crusty. “Besides, we’ll have that two-month journey to rest up.”
Jessamyn laughed. Things were finally turning for the better.
“Crusty?” she said, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Just doing my bit,” he said, already engaged in taking a new series of readings.
19
IT HURTS OR IT SCARES YOU OR IT’S INCONVENIENT
Jess turned to walk back to where she’d left her family’s get-about. In its place, she spied an MCC-marked vehicle. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she muttered a mild curse. She had a driver waiting for her, thanks to her status as planetary treasure. But she recognized what she’d done to her parents, and her shoulders sagged forward. She’d run off with their sole form of transportation and then forgotten about