Saving Mars (7 page)

Jess looked at Harpreet, who gave a subtle nod.
Go on, child, this is the only way you are getting back in the air
, she seemed to say with her wide dark eyes.

“I’ll do my best,” said Jessamyn.

The Secretary’s eyes narrowed. Then her mouth turned up on one side. “You didn’t give me the answer I wanted to hear. You gave me the truth.” She smiled. “I like that. And I don’t believe in coincidences; I think you’re here for a reason. Pilot-in-training Jessamyn Jaarda, you are hereby granted the title of pilot, second-class.”

Mars’s diminutive leader struck her hand forward once again and Jess took it, holding it a second longer this time.

The Secretary turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, “My assistant has your uniform. I’ll see you in the launch hangar in forty-two minutes.”

The forty-one minutes following Harpreet’s brief hug and best wishes were a blur. Her father and mother congratulated her during a hurried call. But it was her brother’s words that stuck in her head: “
You will have the ear of the most influential person on the planet.
”

Jess had been so struck by what Ethan said that she hadn’t even praised his use of figurative language. It was true. She, Jessamyn Jaarda, would have direct access to the Secretary General and CEO of Mars Colonial.

Thinking of her eyebrow-stroking, junk-collecting brother, she knew exactly what she would ask for: to spare Ethan the three week journey through hell. Jess straightened her uniform and tidied her flyaway red hair. She had six weeks to gain the Secretary’s trust.

Chapter Six

THE PLANETARY DOG

The earliest Marsians, sailors of the heavens, swore vigorously and frequently, often adopting the creative phrasing of their fellows without understanding precisely which body part, saint, or god was being invoked. So long as the settlements were composed of military men and women, this arrangement worked quite well. However, with the introduction of a pluralized civilian population—and in particular the introduction of
children
—there came an increase in outbreaks of violence when certain salient phrasings were uttered before those who deemed them offensive.

Marsians, more than their Terran counterparts, understood the importance of getting along with their neighbors. Opportunities for saving the lives of your fellows occurred with greater frequency on the inhospitable red planet. Marsian settlers learned the value of maintaining cordial relations, and, by common consent, it was agreed that the use of curses which gave grave offense to the person who might save your hide in the next dust storm was probably inadvisable.
Only a fool gives offense
was a proverb frequently murmured under the breath, even by those who very much wished they could afford to offend.

Early on, a thoughtful Secretary General came to the conclusion (through experimentation) that no one minded if she swore by the Greek names of the solar planets. Forward-thinking citizens followed her lead, and within a generation, the entire Mars colony railed against
Ares
, swore by
Hermes
, and invoked
Aphrodite
when upset, injured, or deeply moved. To swear otherwise—at least in the hearing of others—was, quite simply, not
Marsian
.

During Jessamyn’s first week as the current Secretary’s personal pilot (Jess refused to refer to the position as “chauffeur”) she had ample opportunity to observe Mei Lo’s preferences in cursing. Jess shuttled the busy woman from one settlement to another so that the Secretary could provide personal reassurance that all possible measures were underway to keep Mars from starving.

They discovered one remote outpost where half-rations had been the norm since the last raid. The Secretary wasted the water of half a dozen tears as the citizens of that locale politely returned the emergency rations they’d received earlier in the week.

“Send ‘em somewheres they need ‘em,” said the enclave’s spokesperson, a haggard-looking woman whose ruddy skin spoke of more than forty orbits.

They’d done just that.

Today Jessamyn had flown Mei Lo to a meeting in New Tokyo. On their return flight to New Houston, the Secretary repeated a now-familiar pattern of spending nearly every minute on a comm-call.

So much for having her ear
, thought Jess. She couldn’t complain about the job itself. Nearly every day brought a new craft to the Secretary General’s dedicated launch pad at headquarters, and Jess loved the challenge of mastering each vessel’s quirks and traits. Today, however, they flew in the Secretary’s personal ship.

“
Ares
, but it’s good to have my Cloud Runner back,” sighed the Secretary.

The Cloud Runner was a luxury-class personal ship with non-standard landing requirements. None of the settlements they’d flown to last week could have accommodated the strange craft: when docking, the ship was designed to settle onto a series of prongs allowing it to recharge. The Secretary’s executive dwelling had the necessary dock, which meant Jessamyn could fly her directly home today.

Jess ran her fingers down the launch schedule. “Looks like I can take you out in the Cloud Runner all this coming week,” she said.

“Mmm, that will be nice,” said Mei Lo with a pleased sigh. “
Decadent,
but nice.”

“You’re planetary CEO,” replied Jess. “There’s nothing decadent—”

An incoming comm-call interrupted Jessamyn.

“This is the Secretary General.” Mei Lo launched into a discussion that cut short Jess’s hopes of an actual conversation with her new boss.

Jess scowled and aimed the Cloud Runner at the setting sun. A distant dust storm had filled Mars’s shallow atmosphere near the horizon, creating a brilliantly burnt-orange sunset. It was stunning. Jess adjusted the speed of the craft so that she could keep the sunset in sight all the way to Mei Lo’s home. The beauty relaxed her. She ached to fly and fly, chasing nightfall around the planet.

Once, Jessamyn had overheard her father trying to explain his daughter’s response to natural beauty.
Most people have five senses
, he’d said.
Jess has a sixth: the sense of wonder
.

Jessamyn hadn’t understood what he meant at the time, and she still wasn’t sure she could explain it to anyone else, but his words sounded right to her somehow. On the other hand, she asked herself, how could anyone be other than wonder-struck by the flaming sky spread before them?

She turned back to smile at the Secretary, who had ended her comm-call. But Mei Lo’s eyes were closed, her head sagging at an angle that suggested sleep. Returning her gaze forward, Jess sighed. The Secretary had fallen asleep without re-securing her harness. Now Jessamyn had a decision to make: follow standard protocol and wake the exhausted Secretary, telling her to buckle in, or let the poor woman sleep. It wasn’t like Jess would have trouble landing the ship. But harnessing was standard on this vehicle for a reason.

The decision was no-contest, actually. If Jess wanted to prove she could fly by the rules, she’d darned well better wake her passenger.

“Madam Secretary,” Jess called. “We’re nearly there.”

Ahead, Jess could make out the yellow lights of the Secretary’s home and the blinking blue lights of the landing pad.

Mei Lo yawned and sighed contentedly. “Thank goodness,” she said, buckling herself without Jess needing to remind her.

Jessamyn brought the craft in slowly, nearly silent. She spun the ship, aligning the prongs to the receiving outlets. And that was when she saw the blur.

“What the …?” Jess took an infrared reading. “No, no,
no
!”

She pulled the craft out of the landing pattern, causing the Secretary to cry out, “
Holy Ares!
” just as Jess shouted, “Hold on tight!”

Jessamyn had, in fact, decided to do something very stupid and most likely career-killing. But she knew she could never face her brother again if she landed on top of the planetary dog.

To her credit, Jessamyn
attempted
to land the craft such that it wouldn’t tip sideways. But the uneven Marsian surface was set against her and within seconds of touching down, the ship wobbled, tilted, and collapsed, tumbling down on its side.

In the silence that followed the crash, the Secretary spoke.

“What in the name of
Hades
happened there, Pilot?”

Jess licked dry lips. “I wrecked your Cloud Runner, Madam Secretary.”

“Yes, I did notice that,” the Secretary remarked dryly.

Another moment’s silence.
This is going to be so, so bad
, thought Jessamyn.

“Would you care to tell me why?” asked the CEO of Mars Colonial.

Jess wanted to reply,
Because your idiot dog was about to get ground into dog-burger
. But she held her temper. Anger wasn’t going to make this mess any better. “Your dog was bouncing around down there in its …” Jess struggled to remember the word. “Inside its
hamster-ball
. It was trying to bite the landing lights or something. If I’d attempted to take us back up again for another pass, I would have cooked your dog with the heat from the thrusters. I chose to land the craft … unconventionally.”

“You made a split-second decision to kill my Cloud Runner instead of my dog.”

It sounded idiotic to Jess’s ears when the Secretary put it like that.

“I’m afraid so, Ma’am.” All the fight
whooshed
out of her and suddenly she felt very, very young. She was an idiot. She’d destroyed her
career
just as surely as she’d wrecked the Cloud Runner.

The Secretary shook her head slowly and began sealing up her walk-out suit.

“Suit up, Pilot. You won’t be taking this thing anywhere else.”

Jess swallowed against the lump in her throat, wondering why the Secretary wasn’t shouting and cursing. Perhaps the planetary CEO had moved past mere anger and into quiet rage.

Jess hoped the door allowing them to exit remained functional. She pushed the release locks and breathed a sigh of relief as the door opened outward, allowing them to crawl free. The planetary dog rolled his habitat to the Secretary’s side and the three of them walked into the Executive Dwelling.

Once she’d stripped out of her walk-out suit, the Secretary focused her attention on the dog instead of Jess, freeing him from the globe-shaped unit that allowed him access to the outdoors.

“Come over here, you! Someone is trying to lose his nose! Oh, look at you. If that’s frostbite—oh, come here, come here. Goo-ood boy. Oh you are such a naughty dog! Goo-ood boy.”

Jess stood awkwardly to one side, watching the interaction between the two. When, at last, the Secretary stood and turned to look at her, Jessamyn had calmed enough to be able to speak rationally.

“I acted on impulse. I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

The Secretary tilted her head to one side. “Sorry? Are you apologizing to me for saving the life of the planetary dog?”

“It was inexcusable of me, Ma’am.”

“Pilot?”

“Yes, Madam Secretary?”
You are so dead
, said a voice in Jess’s head.

“Thank you for sparing the life of Mars’s most iconic and best-beloved inhabitant. Our planet has never been more in need of good cheer than we are at this moment.” Mei Lo smiled. “And frankly, even on a cost basis, activating a new canine embryo is more expensive than replacing my ship. Not that Rover could ever be replaced.”

Hearing his name, Rover thumped his tail twice.

Jessamyn stared, at a loss for words. She’d done something right by doing something wrong.

“May I?” The Secretary extended her diminutive arms as if for a hug.

Jess gave half a nod and then felt the arms of her planet’s leader encircling her.

Pulling back out of the hug, Jess asked, “So, does this mean I still have a job?”

The Secretary threw her head back and shouted to the ceiling, “
Do you still have a job
?” She bent down to scratch her dog’s head. “Does the nice pilot still have a job, huh, Rover?” The Secretary stood again, recovering herself from laughter. “You’ve got any job you want, kid, saving Rover’s life like that!
Ares!
If I had a son, I’d make him marry you right now!” Mei Lo’s eyes danced. “My job’s a very lonely one at times. You’ve saved me from … from …” She blinked several times. “You’ve made my life
immeasurably
better by not barbecuing my dog. Thank you, Jessamyn.”

Embarrassed, Jess didn’t know where to look and found her eyes resting on the dog. It sat, head cocked to one side, eyes fixed on the Secretary.

“Would you like to say hi to Rover?” asked Mei Lo.

Jess wondered if the Secretary would be offended if she declined. She’d never wanted to meet the dog before, and she didn’t feel particularly interested in meeting it now. Then she thought of her brother.

“Sure …” she said. It came out sounding almost like a question.

The Secretary smiled. “Rover, come. Meet Jessamyn.”

The dog stood and quickly closed the few feet between himself and Jess.

Jessamyn lowered herself to one knee as she’d seen countless children do when she’d been young enough to be taken for her birthday visit. Remembering the other celebrants making fools of themselves with the planetary dog, she decided it would be best to get it over with quickly.

But something happened when Jess’s eyes connected with Rover’s. His eyes, light-blue like Ethan’s, caught her at once with their intelligence.
Who are you?
the dog seemed to be asking. He tilted his head from side to side, never loosing her from his gaze except to blink.

“The blinking is one of the ways he’s acknowledging you as being ahead of him in the pack,” said the Secretary.

“Huh,” said Jessamyn. She wasn’t really paying attention, though. She felt a rush as something swept through her. A something that reminded her of taking her craft toward breaking day or of watching Phobos as the swift moon zipped across the night sky. The dog was …
wondrous
. A shiver ran along her spine. “Hi,” she said to the gentle-eyed creature before her.

Rover leaned in and licked her.

“He gave up water—to
me
, a total stranger,” gasped Jess.