Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,6
presence in the future.
She tried to remember the last time she’d felt light of heart. In her mind, she heard the whisper of orange silk, recalled Pavel’s lazy smile as he’d spoken of his first time in an orbiting craft. How he’d lied about his age and how his instructor had colluded rather than turning him in to face his aunt.
You wouldn’t be morose if Pavel were with you, said a small and knowing voice.
“Would too,” she muttered.
But as she returned to her quarters, she was already composing in her mind another letter to her Terran friend. She sat at her wafer, spoke the words, “Dear Pavel. It’s me again.”
There were Marsians who got along without a life partner, and Jess had always imagined she’d be one of them. She felt warmth rising along her neck, her throat and cheeks.
“And nothing’s changed,” she said aloud. “Nothing that matters.”
How could she let her mind wander to Pavel’s dark eyes when her crew was stranded on a hostile world? When her planet rested on the knife-edge of starvation?
No. She would never take hands with a partner in the Crystal Pavilion. Would not make the simple vow, “I’ll stand by you all our annums.” Would not even wish for such things. She was not some fool girl looking to find purpose in a pair of brown eyes. She had purpose. She was a pilot, and it was time she started acting like one.
She directed her gaze to the letter on the wafer and uttered a single word.
“Delete.”
3
THAT LIFE IS OVER
Until the night of his eighteenth birthday, Pavel Brezhnaya-Bouchard had two passions in life: medicine and fast ships. But that night, which should have been his last in his firstbody, everything had changed. Pavel had fallen in love with a girl. Where she had gone, he could not follow. But she’d left a brother behind. And she’d left, as well, the idea of her world, so other. In Jessamyn’s absence, Pavel found himself Mars-smitten; his obsession with the red-haired girl twinned with the hope of helping her world.
Already, Ethan had hinted at tasks left incomplete. To these, Pavel swore to devote himself. Aiding Mars would be the compass-star by which he would steer—the purpose he’d yearned for and not found. There was nothing wrong with devoting your life to medicine or piloting really fast ships. Until you found a cause that made these things look petty.
This, the girl from Mars had provided.
Aboard the ship he’d stolen from his aunt less than a day ago, Pavel awaited news from Brian Wallace’s conversation with his clan. What he’d overheard so far didn’t sound promising. Even Brian’s dog looked distressed at the exchange.
“It’s okay, Elsa,” Pavel murmured, scratching a spot under her chin. He hoped it would be okay, at least.
“Well,” sighed Wallace, having finished his call. “We’re in a fair pickle. Farewell cozy retirement, and all that.”
“What is the nature of a pickle?” asked Ethan.
“He means we’re screwed,” said Pavel, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan.
Ethan frowned in confusion but refrained from further inquiry.
“Your family won’t help you after all?” asked Pavel.
“They are at present disinclined to look favorably upon me choices,” said Wallace. “Particularly as those choices have landed me face upon the Chancellor’s list of persons wanted for questioning in regards to the disappearance of her nephew.”
Pavel frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see that coming.”
“I take it ye’re not thinking of returning to your aunt?” asked Wallace.
“Not a chance,” Pavel said.
“In that case,” replied Wallace, “I have an idea. A request, really. I’d ask ye to consider drawing up formal terms of indenture to hire me services as bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?” asked Pavel.
“If the Chancellor finds us, I’d prefer to be presented as the guardian and protector of her errant nephew rather than as his kidnapper,” explained Wallace.
“This isn’t your problem, Wallace,” said Pavel. “I can set you down anywhere you want. Just name it.”
“Lad, me own family won’t have me at the moment. I’ve nowhere to go. I’m not scheduled to re-body for nine years and me face is everywhere.”
Pavel frowned, uncertain he wanted the blustering Scot as a companion. “Aren’t there … illegal re-body operations you could consult?”
Brian Wallace laughed grimly. “Aye. But they’ll make more selling me to Lucca Brezhnaya than re-bodying me. I’ve no wish to play those odds.”
Pavel realized he would face the same problem if he attempted to re-body. Or even get reconstructive surgery to disguise his appearance. “Shizer,” he muttered under his breath.