Defying Mars (The Saving Mars Series) - By Cidney Swanson Page 0,78

would appear a ship is coming our way from Mars.”

A moment’s stunned silence.

Then Lucca’s eyes flew wide. “From Mars?” This was impossible. Never, never, never, had she imagined anyone coming from the Martian colony. It was overwhelming news. Shocking news. It was impossible. “How many ships?”

“A single vessel only.”

That was something, at least. A ship on its own was less likely to wage war. But it could still do significant damage, she had no doubt. “What is its heading?”

“Well …” Vladim hesitated. “It is headed to Earth. We will not know where on Earth until the ship makes its final descent or settles into orbit.”

Lucca had already flown from her bed and was halfway dressed as she gave her orders. “I want excessive force flying cover over the capitol at once.” She heard the order delivered. “What is the soonest this ship could touch down based on present trajectory?”

“We have less than an hour, Madam Chancellor.”

She pulled on a pair of heeled boots. “What location would their current path indicate?” She was certain it would be Budapest. Perhaps it was fortunate her campaigning had called her away to Mexico City.

“North America, the far west, probably above the 45th parallel,” replied Vladim.

North America? That was … unexpected. That could hardly be the ship’s true destination.

“Are special ops airborne yet?” asked Lucca.

There was a brief pause, murmurs Lucca couldn’t make out.

“Yes, Madam Chancellor. They will begin flying cover patterns momentarily.”

“What do we have in the Pacific, just in case?” Lucca asked.

“There’s a regular hoverbase in Seattle,” said Vladim. “Or for special ops, there’s Pearl Harbor.”

Lucca frowned. “Ready the hovercraft, but I want special forces from Pearl Harbor as well. Excessive force. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Madam Chancellor. Right away, Madam Chancellor.”

She heard the barked commands in the background this time.

“I want the Martian ship shot down,” she continued. “I want any Martians shot on sight. Anyone who appears to be expecting them or offering assistance, I want kept alive. Is that clear?”

“Aye-aye, Madam Chancellor.”

“Has the Viceroy been told of this situation?” asked Lucca.

“No, Madam Chancellor. We knew you would wish to be informed first.”

She smiled. Technically the Viceroy was her superior, but she’d always run the show. In any case, the Viceroy’s influence had been slipping, slipping, slipping of late. Time on the campaign trail had made that evident. Perhaps it was time for her to take the reins of power in name as well as in fact. She’d waited long enough, finding it more convenient to run things behind the scenes as the second-in-command. But perhaps it was time. Perhaps.

“This information is to be kept classified for the present,” said Lucca.

Her all-hours chauffeur was drinking kávé and watching a vid feed.

“Charles, the closest military base at once,” she called.

How could it have happened like this? Lucca had been wrong. Very wrong. She’d been so certain the activity regarding Mars had been initiated by her own citizenry. To find out Martians were coming here? It was shocking. Would they tell Earth’s citizens what they knew about irregularities in the Re-body Program? That would require an enormous media-spin on her part. But, no, Lucca decided. The Martians must have kept silent on that count thus far. Rumors would be spreading like wildfire if the colonists had divulged her secret.

She pounded a fist against the side of her vehicle.

“Madam Chancellor?” asked her driver.

“Nothing, Charles,” she said. It was nothing to her, surely. A single ship. A laughable threat. She would be laughing as soon as the vessel attempted to make land. The Martians would find Earth prepared, armed, and deadly.

35

NO CLAIM

The desert sunrise was still hours away when Ethan roused Pavel, Harpreet, Kazuko, and Wallace with an unusual level of agitation in his voice.

Pavel stumbled out into their common room, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Wallace complained that he couldn’t be expected to handle any bad news without a cup of coffee inside him.

“You will wish to hear this news,” said Ethan. “I have located pulses from several wafers of Marsian origin headed for Earth.”

“What?” demanded Pavel, snapping to full alertness. “That’s impossible. How did you do that?”

“I placed a program into play two months ago, set to search daily,” explained Ethan, “Which means the ship carrying these computational systems has come into range within the past twenty-four hours.”

“Gracious,” murmured Harpreet. “And you’re certain the signal isn’t coming from something Kipper might have cobbled together?”

Ethan shook his head. “Besides the fact that she remains in a coma, I am reading several distinct instances