Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,58
at the next turn,” murmured Brian Wallace to Pavel.
“Okay,” said Pavel, his heart racing from the run and the unexpected prospect of salvation.
“Now,” called Brian.
The four detached from the mob and dashed left to a corridor with a door leading to the outside.
“This way,” said Brian, tugging at Pavel.
The door to the outside retracted, but on the other side stood a guard who looked very much surprised by both the door’s opening and the presence of the four behind the door.
“Good day, Jonathan,” said Harpreet, who apparently knew the guard by name.
“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked, taking in the prison garb and medical insignia of the four behind him.
“Arrest them!” came a voice from somewhere behind them.
Pavel turned to look and saw the crowd swelling around the corner the four had just slipped past.
“Arrest the doctor!” came the cry from somewhere behind the crowd.
The confused guard shifted his weapon. “You heard them, ma’am,” Jonathan said to Harpreet. “I can’t let you pass.”
She smiled and patted his forearm. “You must do what you feel is right, of course.”
“Let me through,” demanded a guard from the back of the crowd. “Or we start shooting!”
Half the crowd drew back like water toward a drain. The other half stood their ground, protecting Harpreet Mombasu. The old woman’s name was upon many tongues, a susurration, an inspiration.
“Go!” cried a prisoner from the front of the crowd. Along with two others, he hurtled toward Jonathan, knocking the gun from the guard’s grip. Others rushed to tackle the hapless guard, crying, “For Harpreet!”
A handful of shots rang out and pandemonium ensued, the crowd surging forward and then shrinking back.
“You heard the man,” said Brian Wallace to his companions. “Let’s go!”
Harpreet called a hurried, “Have pity on Jonathan,” to the surging crowd before dashing outside.
As soon as the four cleared the exit from the building, the door slammed shut behind them. They ran to the dirt-brown ship awaiting them and clambered aboard, Pavel throwing himself into the pilot’s seat.
“Hold tight!” he called.
Ethan was able to keep the prison doors jammed until the swift ship was several kilometers from New Timbuktu. It was a head start they put to good use, fleeing as if some devil were after them.
Or, thought Pavel, as if his aunt was after them. It amounted to much the same thing, he mused.
Pavel called out to Ethan, “You’re a hacking genius, man!”
“So my sister has often told me,” replied Ethan.
At the mention of Jessamyn, Pavel felt his heart fold over on itself. The smile faded from his face and he fought off memories of the girl in the orange dress, laughing beside him. She’d probably forgotten him by now. He busied himself with the ship’s navigation.
Ethan continued. “It is almost certain the Chancellor will have requested Cassondra Kipling be brought in for interrogation. Should we not make the attempt to abduct her as well?”
“Oh, dear,” said Brian Wallace. “Sounds like we’re headed back to the capitol, then?”
But when Ethan brought up information showing Kipper’s new location at the Dunakeszi Hospital and Clinic for Brain Injury, Pavel flat out refused to attempt her rescue.
“Seems a bit heartless, lad, don’t you think?” asked Brian Wallace.
“No,” argued Pavel. “Look at these records. She’s comatose. My aunt won’t get anywhere trying to question her. And I don’t have the equipment or personnel to handle a patient requiring this level of care. She’s safest where she is. If we attempt to move her, she could die.” He glanced over to Ethan and Harpreet. “I’m sorry. But she’s getting state-of-the-art care at Dunakeszi.”
“How is your aunt likely to deal with a prisoner in Captain Kipling’s state?” asked Harpreet.
Pavel frowned. “She’ll rage and fume at the physician in charge, but once she learns nothing can be done, she’ll forget all about her. Move on to the next big thing.”
Harpreet sighed. “In that case, I am forced to agree it would be in the captain’s best interest for us to leave her in the hospital for now.”
“That’s settled, then,” said Pavel. “So what’s next?”
Harpreet smiled. “Dr. Zaifa has been telling me some very interesting things about the languages used to communicate with the deep-space satellites circling Mars.”
Pavel blinked in surprise. “She knows where you’re from?”
“And she is interested in helping us,” replied Harpreet.
Pavel shook his head. Harpreet had a remarkable effect on people.
Dr. Zaifa spoke. “I’m certain I can recreate the code necessary for communication with the satellites. Only a reasonably robust computing system would be required. However, I must caution you against