Saving Mars (17 page)

Jess held her breath, but Harpreet remained calm.

“If I had the credits to bribe a fine officer such as yourself,” said Harpreet, “Do you really think I’d be driving this vehicle?” She smiled warmly.

The officer dropped Harpreet’s wrist and stepped around to the far side of the vehicle to speak with his fellows.

Ethan’s fingers flew across his wafer as he enabled it to voice-capture the conversation outside. Jess leaned in to read it in transcript form.

Male officer:
The head of household claims the family are on their way to exams and that they passed through London at approximately 4:00 this afternoon.

Female officer:
I’ve got the same story from the fourbody who was driving. But they’re in an untraceable vehicle. It looks suspicious.

Male officer:
I don’t know. My Opa drives one of these old amphibs. This family doesn’t seem the type.

Female officer:
They never do. I say we send them in for further questions.

Male officer:
I concur. Let’s scan them in.

Ethan passed his wafer to Jess, opening the door to step out.

“
Halt!
” cried the male officer. “Hands where I can see them!”

Ethan held his hands out in front of him, palms up. “I have proof that we have been to the places of which my mother spoke,” he said. “Within my shirt pocket.”

“Freeze!” commanded the female officer. “Gabor, check his pockets.” To Ethan, she barked a short, “Keep your hands up.”

Gabor removed the contents of Ethan’s pockets, containing items he had “collected” during the day’s journey.

The female officer asked, “Well?”

Gabor answered, “This corroborates everything the head of house
and
the fourbody claimed.” He shook his head. “Ma’am,” he said to Harpreet, “I think you lost track of what time zone you’re in. This says you left Britain prior to 3:00 p.m.”

“You will forgive me,” said Harpreet. “We are all a bit turned around from our travels.”

The female officer spoke. “You have date stamps I can check?”

“Several,” said Gabor. “This fuel receipt says they were in Calais at 4:03 p.m. They certainly didn’t blow up a hospital in London at 4:30 p.m.”

“Very well,” the female officer said to Gabor. “Place a twenty-four hour tracker on the vehicle, and let’s move on to the next one.”

Gabor placed a small device upon the front window, and Kipper was permitted to return to the driver’s seat.

Jessamyn, observing her brother, saw anxiety written in his posture as he contemplated returning to the confines of the small craft.

Ethan spoke to Gabor, beside him. “If we are innocent, why use the tracking device? And if we were not innocent, could we not simply disable it?”

Jessamyn froze.
Stop talking
, Jess thought.
Just stop talking!

“That’s my grandson, always curious,” said Kipper, laughing lightly.

“Young man, you couldn’t disable it without understanding a whole lot more about radio-frequency encryption than someone like yourself. And the tracker is standard. Nothing personal, son. Now get inside before your family leaves without you.”

As Gabor walked to Harpreet’s side of the vehicle, Jess whispered to her brother, “I need you to get back inside, Eth. You can tell me about your collected items, okay?” She breathed a sigh of relief when, after a brief hesitation, he complied.

“Ma’am,” said Gabor at Harpreet’s window, “You’re free to continue to Budapest. Good luck to you,” he said, nodding to Jess. “My daughter’s testing tomorrow as well. Guess that makes you birthday buddies.”

“Guess so,” murmured Jess.

“Officer,” said Harpreet, resting a hand upon his armored arm, “Thank you for the job you are doing. I’m certain it is unpleasant and thankless work.”

Through his face-shield, Jess could see Gabor frown and then soften. “You say your daughter’s taking her exam in Budapest?”

“Yes,” replied Harpreet. Jess nodded in the back seat.

“Here,” he said. “Let me see your daughter’s wrist real quick.” He held out one of the small plastic sticks Terrans seemed so fond of.

Jessamyn panicked, momentarily unable to remember which wrist to offer. Her brother tapped her
left
hand.

Gabor spoke quickly. “We bought a pass for the awards banquet, but my daughter won’t be going. With everything that’s happened today, she wasn’t in the mood for a party. Someone ought to get some use out of it. It cost a fortune.”

“How kind of you,” said Harpreet. “Here, darling.”

Jess held her left wrist-chip out to the officer. He passed the stick over her chip. Something glowed briefly under her skin.

“You must allow me to compensate you,” said Harpreet.

“No, no,” said Gabor. “How often do you think I’ve been thanked for doing my job in sixteen years? Not once. Your gratitude is compensation enough.” He turned to Jess. “You go and have a fabulous time, young woman.”

“Absolutely,” said Jess as Kipper revved the vehicle.

“Gabor, we’re on the clock here,” said the female officer.

“Good luck,” said Gabor, waving them ahead.

The road before them was empty now, and Kipper pulled forward into the dark.

Chapter Fifteen

REAL SILK

Ethan surprised everyone by suggesting that Jessamyn leave the group prior to their arrival at the Terran satellite communication facility.

“Not going to happen,” said Jessamyn. “I came to make sure you can do your job and I intend to see it through.”

Her brother spoke again. “I have recovered sufficiently from my confinement to perform my task. However, I find that I am distressed at the thought of Jessamyn’s safety. I believe it would be difficult for me to concentrate on hacking ancient Terran code while knowing her to be in harm’s way.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Jess. “We’ve been in harm’s way every minute since we boarded the Galleon.”

“I have been researching the customs surrounding first-body apprenticeship examinations,” said Ethan, ignoring his sister’s retort. “Budapest throws the largest awards banquet. The opportunity to purchase admission is earned through a merit system. Jessamyn has been given a ticket and I believe the awards banquet would be a remarkably safe place.”

“Humph,” said Jess.

“The party lasts all night and the examination is held in the upper portion of the same building the following morning,” concluded her brother.

“That’s a ridiculous way to prepare for an important exam,” muttered Jess.

“We are attempting an important task, and we are under-rested,” Ethan countered.

Kipper glanced back at Ethan. “Your suggestion to increase your sister’s safety has merit. First Officer, is it your conclusion that your brother has made a full recovery?”

Jess, out of the Captain’s range of vision, rolled her eyes and muttered. “He just disabled the tracking device those Terrans placed on the front window.”

“Indeed?” Kipper sounded impressed. “Harpreet, what is your recommendation?”

“Ethan has watched over his sister her entire life. If he feels her presence would compromise his productivity, I suggest we do as he asks. A Terran banquet is certainly a safer location than a cloaked transport, should we encounter … difficulties.” Harpreet paused to smile at Jess. “And daughter, I must implore you, for my sake, to sample a raspberry at the banquet.”

“Very well. First Officer,” said Kipper, “You will await us at the banquet.”

And so Jessamyn found it a settled thing: she would remove herself from the rest of the crew, maintaining communication through the audio device of Ethan’s invention. She felt disgruntled at being set aside during the real action. Then she remembered a conversation around Brian Wallace’s table. She recalled how her brother had seemed to be trying to
convince
himself that she would be safe under the cloaking tarp.
He’s been worrying about this all along
, she realized. Her brother didn’t need additional worries. She smiled softly. She was doing what Harpreet said she needed to do: to consider a situation from someone else’s point of view.

Budapest sprawled, a vast city on either side of the Danube River. The boundaries of the capitol had doubled several times over in the centuries since colonists first left for Mars. The city center maintained some of its antique beauty, the ancient buildings in warm browns, golds, and pinks that felt restful to Jess’s eyes after the blue-greys and greens of Scotland.

As they drew closer to the exam building where Jessamyn would depart from her crew, she found herself recalling her father’s final words to her before she’d said goodbye on Mars:
Remember to use all your senses, Jess.
Her sense of taste had been vastly underutilized so far. She smiled; she would rectify that omission tonight.

Kipper brought their vehicle to a halt beside the award banquet building, a sunset-colored building ornamented with crumbling statuary, several stories tall and some eight kilometers distant from the crew’s mission. Half an awkward hug from Harpreet, a nod from Kipper. And then, against her better judgment, Jess leaned over and hugged her brother.

“I’ll be in range of what the ear implants can handle, right?” she whispered.

“Yes,” replied her brother. Tense.

She released him from the hug and he relaxed.

“I will contact you when we have completed the task,” he said.

“See you all in a few hours, then,” she said, exiting next to a long row of hover-bikes available for rent.

Slipping into the back of a queue for admission, she watched her chrono-tattoo move from red to orange: Ethan was already half a kilometer away. The line snaked forward. She flicked her wrist to turn the tattoo on again. Green. Two kilometers. Jessamyn could hear music belting from inside the building. It sounded lively and not unpleasant. Another wrist flick. Blue. Many kilometers.

Behind her, several girls laughed. Jess felt hairs rise along her neck, certain they were discussing her. She turned back and glared at them.

The first-body girls stared at her in silence, then tittered again.

Jess turned to the front.
Terrans
.

A boy in front of her cleared his throat and addressed her. “You should’ve had it removed.”

“Pardon?” asked Jess.

He touched his wrist. “Your tattoo. You’ll lose a couple credits toward your twobody for marking your current body.”

“Oh,” said Jess.

“Why didn’t your parents make you remove it?” asked the boy.

The line advanced and Jess—to avoid answering—pointed forward, indicating the boy should move. They shuffled ahead.

“I’m sorry,” said the boy, turning back again. “That was rude of me. Tattoo removal is outrageously overpriced for first-bodies.”

Jess, lacking a frame of reference from which to respond, kept silent. She found his accent fascinating and subtly shifted the shape of her mouth wondering how to match his “o’s” and “i’s”.

“I’m Pavel,” he said. “In case, you know …” He trailed off as if Jess should know the remainder of the sentence.

“In case what?” she asked.

“Oh,” he said, a look of surprise flitting across his face. “It’s only that … well, a lot of people know my name already because of the election campaigning.”

“Sorry,” said Jess. “I don’t recognize you.” She thought she’d done a good job matching his long vowel sounds.

He flashed a row of white teeth, then hid them again, amused. “So, I say ‘I’m Pavel,’and you say—”

“Jessamyn,” she heard herself replying.

“I would have worn black, too,” he said, gesturing at Jess’s garments. “But Aunt Lucca’s a hard woman to say no to.” He laughed as if Jessamyn would get the joke.

Her blank stare told him she didn’t.

“Never mind,” he said, sobering. “Did you lose someone you knew in today’s attacks?”

Jess shook her head slightly.
He thinks I’m grieving
, she thought, recalling Earth-stories where people dressed in black to mourn death.

“You’re showing solidarity, then,” said Pavel, nodding approval. “I should have packed a change of clothes. This—” he indicated his midnight blue garb. “This is one hundred percent Lucca Brezhnaya.”

“Hmm,” said Jessamyn, nodding. She thought the name sounded familiar. Maybe from a book she’d read?

Immediately ahead, Jess saw the reason for the line’s slow progression. A group of three women assessed the attendees’ appearance before allowing them to scan inside the building.

“Good luck with the outfit,” said Pavel, seeing where Jess’s gaze rested. “You could try explaining your reasons. Solidarity with the victims is running high tonight, my aunt says.”

He crossed to stand before the trio of inspectors. Each gave a curt nod “yes,” and Pavel gained admittance.

“See you later, Jessamyn,” said Pavel.

Not likely
, thought Jess.

She approached the group of arbitrators. All three women shook their heads
no
at the same time. One took Jess by the upper arm and jostled her to the entrance, murmuring, “I’m sorry for your loss, but the dress code has not been relaxed. Someone will help you with a change of clothes just inside. Look for a gentleman in red. Bright red. Talk to him about renting an outfit, dear.”

Jessamyn glanced back before passing through the narrow entrance door. She wanted to turn and run. Inside her Terran shoes, her toes curled and uncurled.
Run
.

No
, she told herself. Staring down at both wrists, she chose the left one containing her admission, scanned it, and passed inside the building.

The music proved much, much louder now than it had been outside. It wasn’t in a style she recognized, though that was hardly surprising. Colonists had destroyed Terran recordings, and a good deal of Terran art, during the war fifty orbits earlier. Jessamyn had to admit the Earth-music at the banquet stirred her. It shook the floor, hummed through her breastbone, steady like a pulse. She looked for the man in red, but he found her first, grabbing her upper arm like the woman outside had done. It was irritating.

“Size minus six?” he asked as he steered her to a counter.

“What?” asked Jess, shouting to be heard over the music.