 
Lunara

Seth and Chloe

Wyatt Davenport
Copyright © 2011 Wyatt Davenport

Smashwords Edition
Lunara Series Books

Original Trilogy:  
Lunara: Seth and Chloe  
Lunara: Gwen and Eamonn  
Lunara: Parker and the Protector

Legacy Duology (20 Years later):  
Lunara: Alexandria I (coming 2012)  
Lunara: Alexandria II (coming 2012)

www.lunaraseries.com
Part I
Chapter 1

Parker McCloud stood behind Transmissions Officer Atalo Grove with his arms crossed. He gazed out the main window of the control tower of the massive lunar colony of Lunara toward the Earth—what the meteors had left anyway. A gray and white cloud mixture formed a dull skin around the atmosphere. History said that the Earth had been a beautiful world. He found it hard to believe Earth had ever been as magnificent as Mars, which was alive again after eons of stagnation.

The setting sun edged behind the darkening Earth, dimming Earth's moon with a crawling shadow.

His day was over. An hour ago, the mining shifts ended for the day, emptying the corridors within Lunara. As usual, Lunara's command tower, which had served as a sentinel above the Earth for the last two hundred years, went silent.

In hangar bay five, three stories down, his ship, the _Protector_ , rested, waiting for a meteor to strike. Well, he conceded, the ship wasn't technically his ship. As head mechanic aboard the light freighter, he had developed an intimate attachment to the starship that he had never come close to achieving with a woman. He loved a machine. An odd circumstance, which he accepted after plenty of debate with himself and others.

Out of the corner of his blue eyes, a streak, long and narrow, darted across the sky into his view.

"What was that, Atalo?" He brushed back the dirty blond hair from his eyes.

"Don't know," Atalo tapped on the keyboard.

Initially, the streak appeared to be a standard meteor, but the tracking system would have picked up the movement hours before, and no indications of activity had come from Meteor Control. Parker focused on it, leaning in for a closer view. The realization didn't materialize, and his concentration lapsed.

"Sir, come here for a moment," Parker said to the chief, who was lingering idly on the other side of the command tower. If anyone knew, the chief would.

Against the fleeting light let in by the setting sun, dimmed and cascading over the upper half of his rough face, agitation wore across the man. Chief Ty Falloom was an icon of the Revolutionary War, which had ended ten years ago. He had chosen to live out his remaining years on Lunara. Thin bands of gray lined the side of his head like wisps of cobwebs spun on his life. Chief Falloom embodied Lunara—a _Protector_ , a fighter, and a survivor.

The chief moved with hurried steps, his eyes trained on Parker. "Don't shout across the command tower, Mr. McCloud."

"Sorry, sir." Parker swallowed hard.

"What do you want to show me?"

Parker pointed at the screen. "Sir, an anomalous reading is coming earthward."

The chief leaned in to view the screen. "An incoming ship?" He let out a long drawn-out sigh.

"Sir, it might be a meteor, but that means the net missed the break."

"The net is too sensitive to miss anything," the chief said.

An alert beep trilled. Parker straightened his body and glanced down at the viewscreen. He recognized the readout instantly as a transponder beacon identifying the object as a vessel.

Atalo scanned the cargo transport manifest. "Sir, no scheduled arrivals for three days."

_Not surprising_ , Parker thought. The freighter bays were occupied, and unless ordered to do so, no one visited a mining colony like Lunara.

"Check the passenger transports," the chief said.

Atalo scanned his fingers along the transport manifest. "Sir, I have one ship scheduled to arrive today."

"When?"

"Later, sometime tonight. I wonder if they are early."

Tension pinched at Parker's temples. "If this is the ship, they should have advised us of a course correction. Unless it is a priority Martian shuttle."

Mars Central routinely disrupted the tranquil habits of the colony with bureaucratic reviews, and Parker didn't want to listen to all the complaining. His brow furrowed as he thought about other possibilities. He refocused toward the blue streak, finding it already discernibly larger.

Atalo adjusted the tracker on his viewscreen, which zoomed to a clean image of the vessel, revealing the shuttle's dented hull and the wing's rusted fringes.

"They don't make ships like that anymore," Parker muttered.

"Mr. McCloud?" the chief said.

"Seems to me from the rigid winged frame to be a second-generation Martian starship." Parker rubbed his forehead. "But older ships don't generally travel out this far, not without plasma shielding."

"Good eye," the chief replied. "We missed the signal because our long-range trackers look for the shielding signatures."

"Sir, those have always been unreliable. Especially with the advent of the modulation correctors."

The chief laughed. "Mars has been more unreliable in upgrading Lunara. Our scanners rely on the shielding for initial detection."

"Understood."

"Atalo," the chief said, "key the ship's code into the computer. I want to know who this is."

Atalo keyed the ship's characteristics into the database query, and moments later the terminal spit back the shuttle's class, confirming Parker's suspicion that the ship was from the second generation of starships.

"Sir," Atalo said, "it isn't a type that comes to Lunara very often."

"If ever," the chief replied.

Atalo scanned the manifest once again. "The owner isn't on the list, nor is any of the standard transponder information." He paused for a second. "I have the name. One sec."

"Tell me as soon as you have it," the chief said.

With a twist of the dial, Atalo's terminal scanned the communication frequencies for the shuttle.

Parker leaned in for a close look, and Atalo, always helpful, tapped on the control panel to activate the speaker. Static buzzed and hissed until Atalo found the correct frequency.

A rough transmission finally crackled through. "Lunara Colony, this is the Mars Medical shuttle, _Guardian_. Requesting clearance to land. Shuttle to Lunara, do you copy?"

The chief tensed.

Parker guessed his suspicions. Mars Medical had arrived early, which meant Seth and Chloe were in a bigger mess than they had anticipated. Seth and Chloe, though only five years younger than his thirty years, weren't as versed in the affairs of Mars as he was, and they weren't taking this intrusion into their lives seriously. They could blast a meteor better than anyone else in the solar system, but when it came to the politics of Mars and the rights of people, they didn't know a Martian dune from a chasma. Since Mars Medical first contacted them a few weeks ago, he had made it a point to keep an eye out for them, and he had, yet the situation hadn't been as urgent as it was now . . . with Mars Medical on their doorstep.

Parker tilted his thin face slightly and rubbed the light stubble on his cheeks. "What do you think, Chief?"

The chief ignored him, and Parker thought better of asking him again. There was a determination in the chief's eyes that Parker hadn't seen before.

"Lunara, transmitting now," the voice over the radio said.

The terminal flashed and began to verify the ship's credentials. The initial code showed that the ship had submitted a schedule to arrive later that evening. "One moment _Guardian_ , the computer is calling up the information."

"What is the shuttle's digital designation?" the chief asked.

"Sir," Atalo said, "the flight manifest lists them correctly as the _Guardian_ , and their code checks out. Where should I instruct them to dock?"

"I see . . . let's find out why they are so eager." The chief took the mike from Atalo and placed it to his mouth. " _Guardian_ , this is Chief Administrator Ty Falloom. Why have you arrived ahead of schedule? Your flight plan should have put you here twelve hours from now."

"A passenger on board demanded we increase our velocity," the voice replied. "He used his authority to speed us along, too."

"I understand," the chief said. A look of dread passed over him. With that one look, he expressed his worry about the shuttle's purpose.

Parker's stomach dropped and he pulled in his lean, six-foot-three frame to catch it.

The chief swallowed. " _Guardian_ , we are not prepared for your arrival. You should have updated your flight manifest with all course changes during your trip. Prepare to hold outside of Lunara until we are ready for you."

"I read you, Lunara," the voice replied. "What is our ETA for docking?"

"Six hours at the earliest. Our hangars are full with freight repair shuttles for the ore transfer. After they leave for Mars, I'll grant you clearance."

"Unacceptable," a new voice boomed out the receiver. "This is Dr. Hans Bauer of Mars Medical. You'll prepare for our docking immediately."

In spite of Parker's best attempt to remain quiet and let the chief handle the shuttle, he groaned discernibly. Mars Medical advertised itself as the leading Martian governmental agency for protecting the public health and safety of the Martian people. In actuality, it had a reputation for bullying, both on Mars and in distant stations and colonies. Travelers through Lunara spun tales of violations of the Principles of Man. About every six months, the holonews reported Mars Medical's brutality in attaining its goals: detentions, torturous medical tests, and a litany of other things. The justification was always the safety of the population, and that excuse seemed to be accepted in the inquiries from Mars Central. Parker, however, never bought the excuses. The travelers who told their stories were too visibly shaken to exaggerate what had happened to them.

" _Guardian_ , our colony isn't prepared for you," the chief replied. "We have flight plans for a reason."

"We expect to land when we arrive," Bauer replied. "I'm transmitting our command override from Mars Central."

The chief signaled Atalo to mute the transmission to the _Guardian_.

An odd panic set over Parker. Bauer's urgency aroused fear for his friends. "You can't let them dock," he told the chief.

"Be quiet." Concern stretched along the chief's face.

Parker bit his lower lip.

The terminal chirped and the clearance-code override materialized on the screen.

"Sir, the Mars Medical ship _Guardian_ arrived ahead of schedule," said Commander John Tarlynn, who had appeared behind Parker. Parker and the chief both turned as the second-in-command of Lunara and head of communications quickened his step in his heavy boots. He came over to them.

"Yes, John. We are talking now," the chief replied. "Any ideas? They are already flexing their muscles."

"I—" Tarlynn began.

"You can't let them bully their way on and violate Seth and Chloe's privacy," Parker said with enough force to sour the chief.

"Mr. McCloud, this is my command tower. What are you doing here?"

"I used my clearance," Parker said, cursing himself for such a weak reply. Truth be told, he wanted to be on the tower when Mars Medical arrived and had come to tell Atalo to warn him when they arrived. He, along with the rest, had not expected Mars Medical to arrive so fast.

Tarlynn shook his head. "Sir, if I may, they are passing all the right codes to stop our delays. We should deal with them within the colony."

"Yes, of course," the chief replied. "Stalling is our best option. Seth and Chloe will remain safe for a little while longer." He smiled sluggishly. "The bureaucratic wheel will churn them around and around."

"Excellent, sir," Tarlynn said. "I'll prepare a reception area."

"Good idea."

"Lunara Colony, let us land immediately," Bauer's voice screeched over the radio.

"Please, Chief," Parker said, "we can't let them on the station. What they are doing to Seth and Chloe isn't legally justified."

"Mr. McCloud, get off the command tower immediately," the chief said. He turned toward Atalo. "Unmute it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Atalo replied.

Parker bristled. He wasn't about to leave until he heard the outcome. For the Martian government to strong-arm the chief unsettled him. Chief Falloom had always been the absolute leader on Lunara and an advocate for Lunaran rights on Mars. Parker guessed that the intrusion had upset the chief more than he let on. Adding to Parker's uneasiness was the chief's comment about Seth and Chloe. Ever since the chief found them as stowaways fifteen years ago, he and his wife, Jan, had been their _Guardian_ s. If Mars was threatening them, Parker had no doubt the chief would react with more than bureaucratic nonsense and receptions.

Parker took a few steps back but stayed within earshot.

"Our systems are processing your request," the chief said to Bauer.

"We'll be docking when we arrive," Bauer replied, quicker and sterner than they expected. His frustration was clearly audible over the crackling transmission. "Did you receive our clearance code from Mars Central?"

"I see it, but you don't carry much weight with me. I run Lunara and the freighters carrying the meteor stones are a lot more important than an overzealous doctor. You'll hold in high orbit around Lunara until we call for you."

"Don't be a fool, Falloom. The clearance code, signed by Minister Cortez, gives me authority, and don't be so sure he doesn't value me over a few meteor stones."

Parker couldn't see the terminal from his spot, but he saw the chief look down with apprehension and pause for an agonizing few seconds.

With a sigh, the chief thrust the mike back to Atalo and walked away.

Parker felt curious. On the terminal next to Atalo, he called up the clearance code details and found the imprint of the minister's signature on the end. The minister! You couldn't get higher clearance than the leader of Aethpis. _Why was Mars Medical so obsessed with his friends?_

" _Guardian_ ," Atalo said, "I'm transmitting the docking-bay coordinates now."

Tarlynn eyed Parker. "You are supposed to be off the tower."

Parker stepped up to Tarlynn. Defiance rippled from his tense shoulders and quick strides. "Sir, I don't like how they overrode the flight plan . . . and the chief dreads their arrival. Why didn't he inform operations?" He cocked one eye toward Tarlynn, hoping to pry into his mind.

"Chief Falloom did warn me about this transport. He wouldn't tell me the importance of why he wanted to know when the shuttle arrived." Tarlynn hesitated before continuing. "But he did exchange heated words with someone on Mars a few weeks ago. He came to my station afterwards and ordered a full update on this ship's arrival. I was going to handle the _Guardian_ ahead of time, but they arrived sooner than we expected."

"Why are they here so early?"

"I don't understand, either. The chief wants me to stall on the station, but did you hear how he attempted to halt them in orbit again?"

"Yes," Parker admitted, "he seemed panicked by their arrival."

"Chief Falloom doesn't panic," Tarlynn said. "At least, I have never seen it."

Parker followed Tarlynn's eyes out toward the shuttle that was lumbering around the towers of Lunara. The older ship banked away from the communications tower and the floodlights beamed off the hull, reflecting the Mars Medical logo.

"Sir," he said. "If the chief doesn't like it, I don't like it."

"Me either." Tarlynn could barely get the words out.
Chapter 2

Starwing pilot Seth Smith cursed under his breath as he wrenched the last stubborn bolt into place on the xenon-flow valve attached to the _Protector's_ Ion engine. A sharp pain pulsed through his muscular hand as blood spilled from his finger onto the starship below.

The _Protector_ loomed large beneath his feet, approximately a hundred meters long, docked in hangar bay five. The belly of the ship held a massive expandable cavity for transporting meteor stones, the highest-valued resource in the solar system. The most spectacular sight to behold was the enormous twin Ion engines mounted to the rear, which were capable of achieving the fastest speeds in the solar system.

The wonders of the _Protector_ mattered little to Seth when compared to the pair of starwings attached to the top of the hull, like tethered remoras on a shark. The starwings were the only two ships of their kind in existence. A mixture of a precision bomber and a speed fighter, the bow-winged craft delivered charges into the heart of Earth-bound meteors at breakneck speeds. To Seth, no thrill equaled flying within a hair of a tumbling meteor.

His finger stung as the blood oozed out of the fresh wound. In a weird way, he welcomed the pain. Anything that got his mind off the agonizing thoughts was a blessing.

Mars Medical's hastily scheduled visit had distracted his concentration all day, and now the distraction had cost him a good chunk of his finger. Their sudden notice worried him. No one from Mars Medical ever came to Lunara to oversee routine physicals. The troubling part of the report stated that Dr. Hans Bauer, the acclaimed bioengineer, was coming to do the tests. A doctor of his caliber was fit to run the physical, but why would _he_ come all this way to run a simple test?

Seth thought he knew why, too. His and Chloe's abilities, especially his strength, were a part of a myth growing among the miners on Lunara. He hadn't outright told anyone that he had abilities, but somehow everyone knew. He did his best to keep Chloe away from the rumors. She was far too sensitive to the minds around her to live with negative thoughts, but how could she ignore Mars Medical's intrusion into their lives? And even worse, how could he protect her? It angered him that Mars Medical had come so close and created such a buzz among his friends.

Blood cooled in the palm of his hand. He reached into his back pocket for his grease rag to stop the flow and pressed it firmly against his skin.

He heard the light, short strides of fellow starwing pilot and longtime girlfriend, Chloe Jones, patter toward him from the side of the ship. Her beautiful face, with her high cheekbones and pouting lips, enchanted him.

She ducked under the engine mount, trying to find him. She found him a moment later, and her brown eyes softened with a mixture of concern and dread as she studied his hand. Her face tightened into a disapproving scowl, which somehow made him feel loved.

She climbed the service ladder. When she reached him, her amber hair wisped against his cheek, and her intoxicating flowery aroma filled his nose. He savored the fragrance for a moment, like he always did.

"Well," she said, her voice firm to get his attention. She stared at him. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I pinched my finger on the darn wrench. I'm okay. Don't worry about it." He nursed his hand.

"Nonsense. I'll clean you up," she offered. She dashed off to the maintenance lockers and came back with a med kit. She grabbed his hand and he winced.

"Hey, where is everyone?" a voice shouted from the front of the ship. "Hey, where are you guys?"

"Back here, Parker," Chloe shouted back. "Seth jammed his hand, bit of a scrape."

Parker, his best friend, walked up to the two. He pushed back the ever-tattered blond hair from his blue eyes and ran his gaze over to the engine. "I finished working on the short circuits in the coils on the starwings. You shouldn't have a problem with acceleration anymore."

"Those coils nearly cost us more than a week's pay," Seth said as he recalled the last assignment and the near-miss that happened when the coils didn't activate. The engines had stalled, sending his starwing into a tailspin. The small malfunction almost allowed a meteor to slip away from their pursuit. "Did you repair the servomotor on the plasma gun?" he asked.

"Yes," Parker replied. "These few weeks of inactivity were good for the _Protector_. I was able to fix most of her problems."

"Seth will be all right." Chloe tightened the last of the bandages over his finger. "You care more about that ship than you do anything or anyone else."

"He'll heal soon. I don't know why you insist on fixing his bumps and bruises. He has a gift for healing. But my ship, she can't be fixed so fast." Parker smirked, but he stopped quickly when she glared at him. "Anyways, I came to warn you. Mars Medical is about to dock. You two had better start preparing for them. I know it's not my business, but the government has no right to invade your privacy like they are doing."

Seth raised his good hand to calm his friend. No need to get him agitated. They had already caused quite a stir with Ty. "Mars has been looking out for the people's interests since the people formed the two governments. I don't think they'll find anything. Lunara doctors found no anomalies."

His stomach tightened as he thought about the possibilities. In truth, he had never trusted the government after what they had put him through on Mars as a child. The new Martian governments, Aethpis and Zephyria, didn't seem any better than the revolutionary government. Aethpis, the larger of the two, headed by Minister Cortez, was governed from Aethpis Colony, and this was the government that was initiating the physical. Zephyria, led by Chancellor Arwell, didn't seem to care about anything other than the metalor shipments he and his crew mined for them. Officially, Zephyria was his home colony on Mars, and his pleas for help in this matter had fallen on deaf ears. He admitted, though, that given his distrust of them, he hadn't tried hard to get their help. Gwen had mentioned the close relationship between the two colonies, and he had no doubts that Zephyria would acquiesce to Aethpis in such a trivial matter as a physical.

He pushed his fear and uneasiness aside for the moment, wanting to calm his friend. "They'll get the information they want from us and be on their way."

Parker threw his hands into the air. "Information? I don't call blood and plasma samples, and who knows what else, 'information.' I call it physical theft. I wouldn't let them touch me."

"The government protects the people. Why panic? I don't sense any dishonesty since this all began," Chloe said. "They are here now anyway. Our contract calls for physicals, so we can't stop them."

"I don't care. The _Protector_ isn't a military ship, so they can't control you like one of their soldiers." Parker's voice rose, echoing within the hangar. "You can't let them walk all over you. Obviously, they are taking advantage of something you signed in good faith. Mars Medical's reputation for—"

"Ty didn't seem concerned when we talked." Seth attempted to cast away his friend's doubts. "Mars Medical scheduled the tests two months ago. He would have mentioned anything he didn't like."

Parker's doubts made Seth increasingly uncomfortable. He didn't need Parker stirring up what he had spent all day suppressing.

"Been more than two months," Parker replied. "Mars has watched you for a while, or they wouldn't be sending someone so important from Mars Medical to see you. Remember, they wanted you to travel to Mars. If Ty hadn't stopped them, you would be going out with the freighters this afternoon."

"No, we wouldn't. I won't go back to Mars. I would quit first." Seth pushed his fingers through his short brown hair. "And the request only stated a physical exam, and those are harmless."

"Don't be so sure about that." Parker snatched a rag from the tool case. His hands jittered as he rubbed scorch marks from the ship's hull. "Just keep your eyes and ears open during these examinations."

A beep trilled. Chloe reached in and pulled out her CommUn. "Go ahead, this is Chloe Jones."

"Jan here," the familiar voice of Jan Falloom said. "Come to Ty's briefing room. I want to talk to both of you, now. The Mars Medical shuttle has arrived, and they are in a hurry to get their hands on you. I am going to hide you in here for a while."

"Hide?" Chloe said as her face twisted. "Why would we want to do that?"

"Because Mars Medical is throwing their weight around, and Ty doesn't like it. He wants to show them who is in charge on this station and set some ground rules."

That phrase, "Ty doesn't like it," stirred in Seth's mind for a moment. Up until now, he had been unaware of his _Guardian_ 's worry about the arrival. Perhaps Ty's worry justified the fact that he was a little edgy.

"I expect you here in five minutes. Jan out."

Parker kept his gaze on Seth, wanting to caution them again.

Seth didn't need him to say anything. Mars Medical's arrival was early, and they were demanding to perform their routine physical. The nice package in his mind didn't add up like he thought it would.
Chapter 3

Zephyrian diplomat and _Protector_ communications officer Gwen Arwell, accompanied by the captain of the _Protector_ , Eamonn Dalton, and Lunaran chief administrator Ty Falloom, stood behind the docking bay decompression window, gazing out as they waited for the main doors of the hangar to open. Gwen tugged on her uniform, which hung loosely on her body. Her tall, lean-hipped frame had shrunk three sizes since she had arrived on Lunara, not having the luxury she had enjoyed on Mars.

On Lunara, luxury was surviving the day without a containment breach or a meteor slamming you, and finding enough algae paste to eat. She missed Mars more than she let Chloe and her other friends know. Her father—the chancellor of Zephyria Colony—provided her with the power and the opportunity to shape the colony. Zephyrians loved the Arwells. On Lunara, however, she was just another person trying to survive the day. The vacuum of space sucked her nobility away. Now she considered mechanics, pilots, and ore processors her best friends instead of diplomats, liaisons, and colonial leaders. Nonetheless, she enjoyed her new life; the difference added to her adventure.

Gwen gazed out the large viewing window, which displayed a brilliant view of the lunar surface, backdropped by the darkened Earth and blinking stars. The landscape teemed with small ground crafts, scurrying like ants, transporting ore from the crater mines toward the colony's massive mineral silos and processing plants. She had been on Lunara for two years, and the perpetual busyness of the miners still amazed her. Mars's hunger for the meteor stones was insatiable.

Suddenly, her eye caught something in front of her, twinkling tiny red and orange specks. The bulkhead had been gray only moments before. She reached out, rubbing along the cool surface. A sting went up her arm, like ice injected into her veins, and she quickly withdrew her arm, which was tingling.

The metal drained the heat from her arm. She peered at the red and orange specks which reflected brighter for only a second or so before reverting to the gray bulkhead she had seen before.

"The new element . . . metalor," she whispered to herself.

She placed her hand once more on the metal beam, but nothing happened. No tingling, no cold, nothing.

"You don't feel anything now, correct?" Eamonn said from over her shoulder.

She started just a bit. Her roughly cut captain was only of average height, but he held a commanding presence over her that not many in the solar system did. Since her childhood, she had been able to see through many people, but her captain impressed her, not only because of his tough, rugged exterior, but also due to his astute, knowledgeable mind. He could lead Lunara, or even a colony on Mars, one day.

"Yes," she said. "The first time I touched the metal, I got the oddest sensation. Now, nothing."

"Happens to everyone. The weirdest thing I have ever seen." He shook his head in disbelief. "As if it takes a part of you."

"When I heard the rumors, it sounded like nonsense." After massaging her arm, she craned her neck toward her captain. "The metalor wanted the heat from my body."

"I know. Perhaps that is why Mars wants us to mine the meteors so bad."

"For what purpose?"

"To solve the mystery of the meteor stones." He smirked.

The shriek of the hangar bay doors interrupted them. They looked through the window at the sight. A whisk of air streaked out of the opening doorway into the vacuum of space. Instantly, the plasma shielding flickered as the power tickled across, sealing the hangar.

The Lunaran aides paced feverishly behind the group, shouting orders at one another, as they put the final preparations on the table display and hung the welcoming banners in the reception hall.

"Sir," the young duty officer said to the chief, "the beverage tables and crew quarters are prepared for our guests. Would you like anything else?"

"That will be all," Ty said. He signaled the officer to fall behind him into formation.

The red-alert lights beamed across her face, and the claxon roared throughout the hangar, warning Gwen to brace her arm on the frame of the door. Just as her hand steadied her, the structure shook with the passing of the shuttle into the hangar bay.

The plasma shielding lengthened along the hull, causing a crackling glow of bluish white. Once the back end made it fully inside, the shield flickered again, reverting to a straight seal across the doorway.

The shuttle swung around to position itself over the landing pad, and the Mars Medical insignia loomed in front of them.

Gwen held herself steady and erect. Despite her young age of twenty-two, she had experience in dealing with uncomfortable situations. She had learned from birth about diplomacy and maintaining oneself through emotional circumstance.

Ty Falloom, on the other hand, born into poverty and brought up in the military, had not. He feared Mars Medical.

Gwen noticed Ty's brow twitched a little. She knew Mars irritated him. She had spoken with him on many occasions about Lunaran life. For most of his command on Lunara Colony, Mars left him alone, and he liked the quiet life. He always proclaimed it was the reason he took the job. Unfortunately, for him, the scientists on Mars had discovered the new element metalor within the meteors Lunara mined. That discovery gave him an influx of Mars personnel, who audited his work and forced him to fill out more paperwork, which Ty considered bureaucratic nonsense.

Lunara was a freewheeling, no-nonsense colony that didn't take kindly to government intervention. Gwen's appearance some two years ago had been one of the first signs of Martian rule. She had tried to coax Ty to the Martian way, but he always resisted. A part of her didn't blame him.

Through her boots, Gwen felt the floor shake as the shuttle hovered over the landing pad. Three sets of flaps opened from the bottom, and the servomotors buzzed as it extended the landing struts into position. The pilot, firing the stabilizing thrusters, touched down on the center of the landing surface.

Behind the rusted wings, the bay doors met with a booming halt, prompting the warning lights to turn from red to yellow. Several technicians scurried to their positions and locked the shuttle's struts on the pad.

"Chief Falloom," a technician announced over the communications unit. "The hangar bay has been pressurized. You're safe to enter."

"Fall into formation. Time to greet our guests," Ty ordered. He tapped the access code on the keypad, and the door slid open.

A rush of the sharp, musky odor of the xenon fuel forced Gwen's nose to cringe. She could never get used to some of the grittier parts of her new position.

In front, the technicians rolled out the carpet, which had been dyed in the traditional Martian dark red. Ty led her, Eamonn, and a handful of senior aides to welcome the newcomers.

The shuttle's plank screeched open and landed squarely on the deck. Simultaneously, the hatchway slid upward, opening the exit. A man and a woman proceeded carefully down. They walked unbalanced, trying to adjust to the lighter artificial gravity of Lunara, and they came to an awkward stop before Ty, Eamonn, and Gwen.

Gwen recognized their insignias as Mars Medical. The man's frame was small, shorter than the rest of them, and he focused on her. She stared back at the man's firm jaw line and prominent nose, but she couldn't help but shift her eyes toward the woman. She was beautiful and sleek, with striking curly locks of blond hair. Both Ty and Eamonn pushed themselves up on their toes, trying to match her stature. Neither could.

"Welcome to the Lunar Meteor Processing Colony, Lunara. I am Chief Administrator Ty Falloom. This is Eamonn Dalton, head of the modest fleet on Lunara and captain of the mining ship, _Protector_ , and Gwen Arwell, daughter of Zephyrian chancellor Damon Arwell and our colony's senior diplomat from Mars.

"Additionally for your comfort, our colony is retrofitted with gravity panels. The panels here are older and will play tricks on your balance, and you may become disorientated for the first couple of hours on the colony. This will pass."

Bauer coughed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't think you configured the sterilization unit to Martian standards. You should check your filters. All I taste is metal."

"I apologize for the air quality. The metalor processing facility saturates the colony."

Bauer coughed again and rubbed his hand against his pants. "I am head scientist Dr. Hans Bauer, and this is my assistant, Dr. Dakota Lars. We are looking forward to getting started with our experiments. Lead us to our subjects."

Ty bristled. "A laboratory area has been set up for you. I will let you settle in and offer you beverages so we can discuss your assignment—"

"No," Bauer demanded. "We insist on getting started instantly. Show me my lab and my subjects right away."

Outraged, Gwen took a step forward and pointed toward Bauer. "Hold on, you will get no 'subjects,' as you put it, until we know why you arrived early. There are diplomatic protocols you must abide by, even if you are military."

_So much for diplomacy_ , she thought after the words tumbled out.

"Miss Arwell, this is a Mars Medical mission, not a military mission, and I am under no obligation to tell you anything. Now, will my subjects be brought to me, or will I be filing a report to Mars Central?"

As Gwen tightened her fists, Ty came between the two. "How about I lead you to the lab?" he said calmly. "You can set up the equipment while we straighten all this out. We plan to cooperate fully, but we need answers. I will not bring your _subjects_ until this afternoon at the earliest. You arrived early, and they are on assignment."

"Chief Falloom, I want them as soon as possible. They could pose a problem to Lunara and Mars."

"A problem?" Gwen's eye twitched. She was beginning to understand Ty's frustration and worry regarding this shuttle.

"Any deviation from normal human development is a concern to us," Bauer said. "My department's job is to investigate all retardations and mutations of humans since we arrived on Mars. My jurisdiction transcends your powers, and the right is always mine. A fact I ask you to remember."

Ty rose up. "I'll be damned if you are going to tell me how to run my colony."

Gwen smirked. The vein in Bauer's forehead throbbed, and the palms of his hands curled into fists. Ty stood his ground, not moving a muscle, and stared straight into the smaller man's eyes.

_Who will surrender?_ Gwen thought.

Bauer's fatigue overcame him, and he lowered his head, wanting to end the argument. "Fine, show me the laboratory. I need two hours to set up my equipment anyway. I expect them in my office shortly after that, or I will notify Mars Central. And don't think I won't get you transferred to the poles of Titan." He pushed past the three and headed straight for the doorway.

Dakota Lars and Ty followed close behind.

Gwen grabbed Eamonn. "Captain," she whispered. "They are in a real hurry to get started."

"Yes."

"And why isn't Ty stopping them? I know he isn't happy."

"He knows he can't stop them. He delayed as best he could."

She shook her head. "That isn't enough."

"He got his way. A couple hours to figure out what to do next."

"I guess." Gwen wasn't satisfied, though.

"They'll be gone shortly. They are only scheduled for a two-day stay on Lunara," Eamonn said as he scratched the scar on his forehead. This was his silent way of telling her he didn't like the situation any more than she did.

"I hate how this is being conducted," she said. "Seth and Chloe aren't lab rats and aren't causing trouble. This is an invasion of the first Principle of Man."

"Seth and Chloe show some odd physical gifts, you must admit. Maybe they should look at them. They didn't object to any of this as of now." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Bauer can't do more than a standard physical."

"Mars Medical isn't here for a routine examination, Captain. Routine examinations don't travel this far without expecting worthwhile returns. Seth and Chloe didn't ask them to conduct these experiments, and worst of all, a requirement in their employment contract to take an annual physical is the basis for Mars Medical's illegal examination. I intend to fix that loophole. The legality of this can _and will_ be contested in the courts."

"Mars Medical's domain stretches to Lunara."

"Their medical clearance doesn't give them the right to treat them this way. They better not harm them, or I am going straight to my father."

"I am sure you will. But his comment about mutations . . . I wonder what he meant."

Gwen turned and gazed out toward the _Guardian_. "Mutations remind me of old stories I heard as a child at school—where Martians adapted to the atmosphere in some unexplainable ways. They could last far longer without air masks, but because of the lack of oxygen, they would mutate hideously. Until now, those were just stories to scare people."

"I know those as well," he replied. "The rumors are legends. The closest thing I read about mutations from Mars was the physical effects of long-term travel in zero gravity. Maybe it is similar. You should ask your father."

"You were a part of the Revolutionary War. Wasn't part of the fight to eliminate the raiders' mutations?"

"The Revolutionary War was about a lot of things, but not mutations."

"But the raiders were mutating."

"The raiders were a faction of Mars that needed to be eliminated, and _mutations_ were a convenient excuse to eliminate a bunch of people who weren't desirable."

"They were—"

"They were roving thieves that plagued the planet for a long time. It took five years of fighting before we finally eliminated them from the planet."

Gwen recalled the circumstances that had started the Revolutionary War some fifteen years ago. The group of raiders attacked a small Martian colony that lay near the Aethpisian border. They left almost all of the townspeople dead and pillaged the colony of its food and resources. That led the Martian United Colonies, the government at the time, to initiate a five-year campaign to eliminate the raiders from Mars. Commonly, three reasons were given for the campaign: one, the raiders had dared to attack an outer colony so close to Aethpis; two, they had killed many people, which they never had done before; and finally, they had killed then Minister Pierre Cortez's brother Pascal who was visiting the colony.

Gwen knew about the rumors of the raiders' mutating, but mentioning it to Eamonn made her realize how preposterous it sounded. No evidence was ever presented or seen in the aftermath of the war.

The raiders were a dirty word on Mars and the perversion of their history was bound to occur. They were a group of people who, when Mars was colonized some two hundred years ago, pillaged and plundered their way around the planet, robbing the peaceful colonies for their survival. The raiders said they were taking from the rich to give to the poor, but in fact, they predicated their existence on thievery. It was a form of survival on Mars born out of the early chaotic days on the planet. Originally, only five hundred thousand people made it to Mars, and through breeding programs and the elimination of the raider population, Mars currently had a healthy million and a half people.

"I don't understand why Seth still fears them," Gwen said.

"The raiders destroyed his colony during the war. Orcus was one of the first to go after the fighting started," Eamonn replied. "He never talks about it, but I think his survival was a miracle considering the circumstances, and I believe he and Chloe went through terrible things in order to survive."

"Do you know what happened?"

"No," Eamonn said. "But I can guess. Seth hints that he and Chloe managed to get to Zephyria colony."

"Zephyria was safe during the war."

"You were young, and your father probably told you that, but nowhere was safe during the war. I think they were in Old Zephyria, where much of the despicable parts of the war took place. Imagine trying to survive in a place like that."

"Old Zephyria was where atrocities were perpetrated by the Martian United Colonies, and that led to their disbanding to form the two governments."

"Yes," he said. "The extermination of the raiders cost that government a heavy price and left us with the two governments, which I favored."

"Checks and balances," Gwen said. "My father complains about that all the time. Yet he doesn't miss the raiders."

"No one does."

She rubbed her chin. "There has to be mutation data in the Zephyrian databases."

"Check that when you have time. First, find Jan and take Seth and Chloe to the _Protector_. Parker has some work for them to do. Keep a close eye on them." He groaned. "I must attend the reception."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No."

He turned and left the hangar. He didn't need to say anything more to her; his silence expressed how he felt. They both needed more information.

The reality escaped her for the moment. Mars had overstepped its boundaries. _But why?_ Mars Medical had no reason to examine Seth or Chloe, unless Seth and Chloe were sick, but they gave no indication they were. Nothing physical anyway, and Chloe didn't mention it when she spoke with her.

On the other hand, the pair had always been secretive about how they arrived on Lunara and what had happened to them those many years ago. In her searches of the Martian database, no record of them existed before their arrival on Lunara. The lack of information wasn't surprising. The Revolutionary War on Mars had led to inaccurate bookkeeping and even worse, data loss. Still, compounded with Mars Medical's interest, the missing story of their past worried her.
Chapter 4

The bridge of the _Protector_ was the most advanced in the solar system with eternally sounding pings and beeps. Gwen Arwell sat at the helm checking the diagnostic screen, while Chloe, to her left, ran additional engine checks. Though the computer did much of the work, Gwen had learned enough over the past two years to diagnose many of the problems herself and take them right to Parker for his analysis. She flipped through the latest report, highlighting issues of minor importance. Nothing major showed, and she loaded the next diagnostic.

Gwen gazed out of the viewscreen toward the hangar's large bay window that filled the entire far wall. The Milky Way fell into view, giving the dark sky a luminescence that she found eerie. The ordeal with Hans Bauer had left her shaken, impotent, and feeling a bit naive. She had never felt so far from home or from her father's influence. _Why was I so feeble facing him?_ she asked herself. In the end, she reassured herself that the "Princess of Mars" always got her way.

Gwen triggered the last of the retrorocket tests.

With her long day nearly over, only one looming problem remained. Seth and Chloe still had to pay a visit to Hans Bauer. For all of Ty's posturing, eventually he would have to acquiesce to the minister and Bauer's orders. With all the politics involved, the chief had done a good job of frustrating Mars long enough to make them realize his displeasure and know that any further involvement would lead to stricter measures. Ty had told her to remain silent, and worst of all, patient, something she had a difficult time accepting. Especially when he was right—a diplomat of Zephyria had no business being involved in Lunaran internal affairs.

"So," Gwen said as she turned toward Chloe. "They made you give blood and tissue samples."

"Just preliminary. I haven't been to the lab yet, and Ty thought we should placate them a bit to buy us some time." Chloe rubbed her elbow where they had drawn blood. "Eamonn told me about your confrontation with Dr. Bauer in the hangar. You don't have to be our defender."

"Bauer deserved what I gave him." Gwen recounted the story in her mind, which caused the fire of frustration and anger to sharpen her tone. "He had no respect for you or Seth, and he can't view you two as experiments. He must realize what he is doing is wrong. Maybe I acted a little hasty, but he infuriates me."

"Thanks for looking out for us," Chloe said. "The rear retrorockets are knocking a bit."

"The stabilizer isn't aligned right. One sec." Gwen turned the dial on the computer and drifted the alignment closer to equal.

"Adjust a little to the negative," Chloe replied. "Almost have it."

"I see." She twisted the dial slowly until she got it right. "What do you expect from Bauer?"

"Nothing major. Just the blood and cardio tests. Maybe some scans."

Gwen's stomach chilled like ice. "Bauer is a nasty man. Don't let him use you. Anything that isn't standard, report to me, and I'll get my father involved."

"You don't know what Dr. Bauer will do. Don't get worried yet."

"Seth thinks something is wrong. He puts up a front, but he understands. Why can't you?"

"He is paranoid and worries incessantly about me," Chloe said somberly. "Baseless most of the time. Plus, I don't sense anything deceptive."

Gwen leaned back in her chair. She had been on the station for two years and still wasn't quite used to Chloe's senses. Chloe had a way of correctly identifying some danger or feeling she got from someone close by. A fact that Hans Bauer was no doubt aware of. "I don't—"

"Seth is paranoid," Chloe insisted.

"He has a right. He struggled on Mars, seeing you suffer and fighting to get to Lunara."

Chloe gritted her teeth. "I was there, too. And it was much worse for me—"

Gwen noticed Chloe catch her words. The pain of the past still churned within Chloe, and the record of what she and Seth had gone through during the Revolutionary War would remain between them.

"You should return to Mars to heal old wounds," Gwen said.

Chloe frowned. "I don't think he will ever go back. When I get the nerve to approach him, he makes up some excuse to stay here."

Chloe's sadness troubled Gwen. Gwen never understood the ease with which Seth and Chloe suppressed the turmoil of their past. Seth guarded against intrusion, and Chloe never forced him to confront his feelings. If he wanted to run, she always allowed him.

"I guess we shouldn't expect anything different from him," Chloe said.

Gwen didn't, either. They had spent countless hours together, but he never gave Mars a chance. Once a conversation about Mars started, he changed the subject or left the room mysteriously.

An immense pain weighed on Gwen. Like Chloe, she had fallen in love with Seth. He was paranoid, abrasive, and overly protective, but he also cared more for Chloe than she thought a person capable. The unconditional love attracted her to him initially, but his kind words and his ignorance of her stature had won her heart forever. With Chloe and the terrible past she and Seth shared, he would never be able to love Gwen, but deep inside she hoped one day that he might. Better than Chloe, she could release his anger and show him her love of Mars and the part of him he was missing. Her father always told her that an incomplete person was never truly happy. Seth's hatred made him incomplete; therefore, he and Chloe would never be happy.

"He may never be happy," Chloe said, echoing her thoughts.

"One day," Gwen muttered.

"I can't take his angst anymore. He might never have been different. We met and lived under such dire circumstances, making me believe it changed him . . . fueling his hatred of Mars."

Gwen softened her eyes toward her friend, wanting her to know Seth was wrong. He should not torture her like he did. Yet she couldn't flat out tell Chloe to leave Seth, as the guilt would be too great to bear.

"What happened on Mars?" Gwen asked, touching Chloe lightly on her shoulder. "The raiders destroyed your colony and murdered your families, but you never told me how you got to Lunara."

Chloe drew her shoulder away. "Isn't the murder of my family enough justification to never speak of that horribleness again?"

Gwen felt that Chloe's reaction was familiar to her own—the panicked urge to evade her past.

"Your journey was hard on both of you . . . especially _you_." Gwen's emerald green eyes softened. "You should tell someone."

"Have you stabilized the rockets yet?"

"Tell me," Gwen said, forcefully.

After a long moment, Chloe relented. "In some ways, the journey to Lunara was far worse than the destruction of our colony. The attack was not a surprise. The raiders were a part of Martian life and a risk the colonists accepted. What Seth and I went through after the tragedy . . . after our parents died and left us orphans . . . after Mars didn't care about us . . ."

Her words trailed off. She wanted to let Gwen fill in the blanks, because her own pain was too much.

Gwen leaned in toward her. She knew that if she was going to help her friend, Chloe would need to tell her the story. "After what?"

Chloe tapped on the keypad. "After shouldn't be experienced or retold by anyone—ever again."

Gwen relaxed her jaw. She had pressed enough. One day, she would hear their secret, and then the mystery of her friend would make sense. "I need to go to the rear to get the rockets aligned further. Want to come?"

"Sure. Parker and Seth might need help."

"Seth," Parker said in the engine room of the _Protector_. "You're being foolish to allow Mars to run this examination."

Seth turned toward him with a glower in his green eyes. His sandy-brown hair, cut short, seemed messier today, and Parker knew Seth wasn't happy about this examination even though he had earlier discounted it as a minor inconvenience. He needed Seth to admit his real feelings and confront them.

"Fine," Seth said. "Enough of your pestering. Since Chloe isn't here, I don't like it at all, and I'm afraid of what they are looking for, but I can't stop them, as my contract states. They can run these exams annually."

"They are overstepping the spirit of the physical, and they are running the most extensive one I have ever heard of."

"I'm beginning to regret telling you the details," Seth said. "What would you have me do? Quit and sweep the hangar bay floors?"

"You can fight it in the courts."

"I contacted someone on Zephyria already. They told me the contract was airtight."

"Mars Medical is focusing on you." Parker wondered how long they had been monitoring Seth and Chloe but decided not to mention it for fear it might drive Seth into a deeper paranoia about Mars. He needed Seth to trust a part of Mars in order to let Gwen and him fight in either the courts or the media.

"I know they are singling us out, and we both know why: my healing ability and Chloe's mental abilities. They are just rumors to everyone."

"They aren't rumors. That is why I am afraid." Parker moved over to Seth. "Gwen and I will help you fight Mars. I know a few things about Mars, and I know how to evade government intervention."

"You fighting them for the _Protector_ assignment isn't the same thing. You didn't have the minister signing orders against you."

"You heard about that?" Parker's mind flashed to the minister's signature on the orders.

"I talked to Atalo and made him tell me."

Parker could have slapped Atalo in the head, but as always, Atalo was just being helpful to a friend. So he couldn't blame him too much. "I won against Mars. They wanted me on Phobos and probably could have done it with some more strong-arming, but I managed to evade them with some convincing arguments. I can do the same for you here."

"Convincing?" Seth laughed. "I know about your heroics, and you forced them to give you your choice or else."

" _Or else_ is how you fight against Mars."

"What can you do? They're already here."

"Get Gwen involved. She—"

Seth shook his head. "Gwen means further Martian involvement and Martian courts. No way."

"Why do you hate Mars so much? The government is overbearing at times, but the planet is our home."

"Your home, Gwen's home, but not my home," Seth said. "And the government is more than overbearing. They ignored Chloe and me after the destruction of Orcus, making us fend for ourselves. You have no idea what a ten-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl have to do to survive the rugged terrain of Mars and then servitude in Old Zephyria. The government ignored us, assumed we were raiders, and then forced us to survive the hard way. It was a miracle we escaped the extermination chambers, unlike the raiders."

"The war was hard for many people."

"I don't care about other people. War is terrible and I know that, but why would I want to live in a society that can turn into the monster that I saw? Mars is hopeless. The raiders killed my mother, and the government killed Chloe and my childhood. Our innocence."

Parker wanted to press him about their adventure in getting to Lunara but thought better of causing Seth that kind of pain. It would only arouse his anger toward Mars even more, and he needed Seth to focus on the peaceful Mars of today. "The government is a burden, but it is also necessary. You have to balance the two sides of it. You can't ostracize yourself from society for something that happened during one of the worst periods in Martian history. The extermination of the raiders is a black stain on all of Mars."

"The raiders deserved it," Seth said.

"An entire wing of humanity doesn't need to be slaughtered. It is the reason that the two governments exist now. To balance each other."

"Yet, Zephyria won't stop Aethpis from conducting this invasive physical on me and Chloe. Where is the balance there?"

"That is what Jan, Gwen, and I are trying to do. Make them realize that this physical is beyond what a normal person would go through."

"I'm not normal, never have been since I met Chloe. That day on Orcus when my mother was murdered triggered something inside of me. Chloe experienced the same thing. Mars is trying to take us now."

"What would make you forgive Mars?"

Seth's eyes narrowed and his face tightened. "Dying without ever returning to that wretched place. It represents everything wrong with humanity."

"And the Earth represents everything right?" Parker ran his fingers through his unruly hair in frustration. "The Earth is unlivable now. Mars is our home. You should continue to challenge the government to make things right. It is the only way for society to progress. Ignoring Mars or acquiescing will continue the corruption you are so sure exists. You went through horrible things on Mars and it wasn't right, but you have to fight them now to make it right."

"I don't want to draw Mars closer to me."

"You can't just let them run the physical and then hope they leave you alone. Fight for equality. Because if you give them an inch, they'll take a foot."

"They have run physicals in the past, and nothing has come of it."

Parker shook his head violently. "Lunara doctors ran those tests, and they didn't include a fraction of what you said Mars Medical is about to test you guys against."

Seth's bright green eyes flared, but he refused to look at Parker. "If I fight them, I might have to go back to Mars. They can run their tests and leave. Any more intrusion, and I'll take more drastic steps."

"Letting them have an inch—"

They heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Quiet," Seth snapped. "You'll frighten Chloe."

Parker clenched his lips together to keep his anger in check. He wanted to get Chloe involved in the discussion, but he knew this would only lead to further anger and solitude on the part of Seth. He would have to go to Gwen directly and see what his next options were, because Seth was pushing him further away.

Chloe passed into the _Protector's_ engine room with Gwen leading the way. Chloe was wondering if she had managed to calm herself enough to paint an unfazed expression across her face. She did not want to act as if she were offended or make excuses, but she was determined not to admit once again the shame and the humiliation of her voyage to Lunara.

She stood behind Gwen and shuddered.

"Come here, Gwen," Seth said. "Parker bought a new camera."

"No," Gwen said. "I don't like pictures. I get enough of those on Mars."

"We aren't the paparazzi," he replied. "You are a big-shot politician. You won't be on Lunara forever so we need something to remember you by."

"I'm not leaving anytime soon."

Seth tugged on her arm and pulled her into view.

_Snap!_ The camera flashed. Parker pointed it toward the display screen to his left and pushed the picture to the screen.

"Fabulous," Parker said, looking carefully at the various buttons on his gadget.

Chloe jumped as the holotube switched to the Martian feed, breaking the quiet and replacing it with the thumping opening music for the Martian News Channel. "Parker, damn your gadgets." Perhaps Mars Medical had rattled her nerves more than she realized.

"The camera is changing itself," Parker said as he turned it over.

"Hey, Gwen, your father, along with Minister Cortez," Seth said.

"So?" Gwen went over to the terminal and began to work on the diagnostics she had started on the bridge.

Chloe winced. She understood the pang of anger that had exploded from Gwen when Seth mentioned her father. Like her, Gwen had come to Lunara on a rocky road. Her father had sent her by force, and she had never revealed why. Chloe knew that for Gwen, banishment from Mars was punishment, but to Chloe, a position on the _Protector_ and a diplomatic title didn't seem like punishment at all.

The reporter announced, "The Mars Two-Hundred-Year Gala, scheduled for next week, looks to be as grand an event as it is advertised—celebrating the two-hundredth year of humanity's colonization of Mars and the ten-year anniversary of the new governments, Aethpis and Zephyria. Thousands of people have showed up today for the formal invitation. Here are some words from Zephyrian Chancellor Arwell about the gala."

The reporter turned to face the stage as the view switched to a close-up of Chancellor Arwell.

The chancellor raised his arms. "We invite Mars to the Zephyrian exposition. Zephyria is making every effort for the enjoyment of the people during the two-hundred- year anniversary gala, including fireworks, dinner, dancing, and much, much more. Come witness our excellence."

The crowd exploded in cheers as they hooted and hollered in anticipation of the upcoming events. The chancellor waved his hand in recognition.

"Your dad is a natural for the stage," Parker said.

"Pompousness isn't a good natural," Gwen muttered from the terminal.

Chloe smirked.

The reporter reappeared on the screen. "Not to be outdone, Minister Cortez of Aethpis Colony tries to upstage the chancellor."

"The chancellor's fireworks display will be nothing compared to the Aethpisian delegation's spectacular unveiling. The gala will be a day long remembered by the Aethpisian people," the minister said.

Minister Cortez raised his hands and waved to the crowd. They cheered even more boisterously.

"We are in for a treat at the gala," the reporter said. "This concludes our broadcast from Trivium Port. For a full display of each of the speeches, tune into the late evening news. Now back to the studio."

Parker waved his hand in front of the holotube, which faded and went blank.

"Why aren't you going, Gwen?" Chloe asked. "Surely the daughter of the chancellor is invited?"

Gwen stiffened at the terminal. Her curly, flowing brown hair stood against her neck.

From the day Gwen was born, she had lived like royalty within Zephyria, protected from the ravages of Mars. The chancellor's power was well established: thirty years in the political circles of the Martian bureaucracy had made him the most popular person on the planet—next to Gwen Arwell.

Gwen had been groomed to be a future chancellor of Zephyria. The "Princess of Mars" was her moniker, and she hated it because the reputation and expectations of Mars shadowed her. There was plenty of pressure on Gwen to succeed; from outside Zephyria, the news channels and gossipmongers salivated for any detail of her life and were the reason she loathed photographers; within Zephyria, her father expected her to take his place when his career ended. Gwen loved and respected him more than anyone, yet the pressure he put her under caused rifts in their relationship.

All her close friends on Lunara knew she had left her Martian life on Mars. So many on Lunara came to escape Mars, and Gwen was no different. Gwen had embraced Lunara and its hard, simple life, and this had surprised Chloe.

"Enough about my father," Gwen said. "Why don't you tell us the real reason those Mars Medical people showed up today?"

"What do you mean?" Chloe replied. "I told you everything."

Gwen's eyes flashed. "Are you sick? I think Parker and I have a right to know. We are your best friends."

"No, we aren't sick." Chloe stepped toward her. "Are you implying we are holding something back from you?"

"Yes!" Gwen dropped her diplomatically trained composure for just a second and showed her annoyance—a rare sight, to say the least. "Mars Medical doesn't come to Lunara for routine examinations. I did a background check on Hans Bauer, and he is highly regarded on Mars. His research papers are works of a super genius."

"I am not ignorant of Hans Bauer and his reputation," Chloe replied sharply. "We don't know anything about what he wants, and frankly, I am insulted you think we would lie to you."

"You expect us to believe this is a routine examination? Something larger is happening here."

Chloe stepped closer to Gwen. "Who is 'us'? You had a little talk behind our backs."

Gwen held her stance. Her lean body appeared to grow with the confrontation. "Since Bauer said he was coming, all we have been talking about is you and Seth."

"I am fascinated to hear what you think is happening." Chloe stood more erect, trying to match Gwen's stance.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be worried. Parker thinks you know already," Gwen said, then looked toward Parker. "Tell them."

Chloe snapped her head at Parker as he stepped back. For the first time, Chloe noticed Seth and Parker were remaining eerily quiet.

"Out with it, Parker," Chloe said, thoroughly annoyed now. She felt no reason to hold it back anymore. They had devised a full-blown conspiracy.

"We care about you," Parker said. "If anything is wrong with you or if Mars has harassed you in any way, you can tell us. Gwen's father and Ty can investigate any strong-arming from Mars Central."

"To be clear. We don't know why they came or what they want. Honest."

"We need assurance that Mars isn't trying to bully you," Parker said.

Chloe relaxed her stance a bit. She reminded herself that these were her friends. "I know you care about us."

"I still think something is going on," Gwen said. "If you both say nothing is happening, then I trust you. But I won't let my guard down until Bauer leaves."

"It will all work out," Chloe said.

Her friends nodded, but she sensed their unease, and she didn't believe her own words. Bauer's interest in them disconcerted her, and when she had feelings like that she was never wrong. Since Bauer arrived, several pangs of worry from Seth concerned her enough to stay close to him. She wasn't sure how he would react with Mars on his doorstep.
Chapter 5

For a long moment, as he sat in the Lunara radar tower, Eamonn Dalton stared over Jan Falloom's shoulder, watching the blinking indicator light at the control terminal of the Black Widow Detection Grid. The Black Widow consisted of one million satellite links ringing around the space between Mars and the Earth. Each link completed a string in a web detection grid that alerted Lunara to all incoming meteors. The Black Widow tagged the meteors and tracked their path to determine if the dense balls intersected with Earth.

The light on Jan's terminal flashed green, giving the all-clear signal. The clear skies pleased Eamonn tonight. Hans Bauer and his medical team had done enough today to cloud the air within the colony. A meteor coming into the system would only create more havoc.

Ty, holding two cups of coffee, walked up and handed Jan a cup. He cradled his own cup in his jittery hands.

"Anything showing up on the screen tonight?" Ty asked.

"Pretty light again," Jan replied. "Maybe the meteor cluster is no more. It has to end sometime."

Discomfort crept into Ty when anyone mentioned the cluster. The cluster was a chain of meteors aligned on the path to Earth. Even with the rotation around the sun and the solar system's drift away from the center of the Milky Way, for the last two hundred years, the chain had directed itself constantly toward the Earth. No one had adequately explained the unrelenting tendency of the meteor clusters to strike the Earth while leaving the rest of the solar system unharmed.

Jan explained the phenomenon as a test of integrity for humanity. One could easily submit to the fear and chaos the cluster instilled in one's heart. Especially when it first emerged over two hundred years ago, the easy answer would have been for humanity to die, giving in to the power and the hardship. But instead, humanity had persevered and colonized Mars.

For scientists, looking for _real_ answers, the cluster was a dubious anomaly in which the pull from Earth's gravity and the gravitational bodies around it created a funnel for the meteors to travel down. Figuring all the change in the solar system and the systems in range, Ty found that explanation to be far too variable to be right. He needed a grander explanation; perhaps some unknown power controlling humankind's destiny sent them the cluster. Those explanations comforted him more than the sterile physical reasoning of scientists or astronomers.

In any event, the meteors were constant, and stopping the meteors was his job.

"The skies have been quiet lately," Eamonn said. "If Mars Medical hadn't shown up, Lunara would be its same boring self."

"I would take that." Ty took a sip from his coffee. "I'm willing to gamble a few stragglers are left to be found, but the meteors are lowering in frequency. I'm concerned Mars Central will become too complacent with this vigil and lower our detection resources."

"Mars isn't dumb enough to let Earth be impacted again," Jan said. "They will continue to fund the Meteor Protection Unit. We have sacrificed too much for our survival to repeat history again. Regardless of the sentiment on Mars, Earth will play an important part in our future. Mars can't sustain us forever."

"Mars forgets about Earth with more important matters taking precedence," Eamonn said. "Plus, would Mars stop the funds for the meteor stones?"

"Not likely," Ty said. "It's a tragedy—that's how we get recognition."

Jan alternated to the next relay in the system to run a diagnostic routine, standard protocol during downtime. After it completed the cycle, the terminal relayed status information, power levels, collusion reports, and other data.

The gray Earth crept over the horizon.

"A tragedy. We all had tragedies on Mars. Why else would we be here of all places?" said Eamonn.

"Starship captain isn't good enough for you, Eamonn?" Ty said.

"Command is my dream, Chief. It's the personal stuff we leave behind."

"Or the stuff we ran away from," Jan added.

"Sometimes I wonder if my career hampered other aspects of my life," Eamonn muttered. The dull ache against his chest began to tighten. All of his crew had something they had left on Mars. The regret of leaving Madelyn Green behind marred his own departure. As a soldier in the Revolutionary War, he had plenty of experience with other women, but Madelyn had always been special to him. Her face never quite escaped his mind.

He released a long sigh.

Warning alarms beeped, and alerts lit on Jan's screen. She switched to the alert control and scanned the data. "We might not have a slow night after all. The incoming meteor's vector is within the range of Earth."

"Check for an echo effect," Ty said as he leaned in to get a look at the data.

The immense size of the area covered and the close proximity of the asteroid belt caused a shadow on the radar, or the echo effect. Echoes fooled the radar, so Ty ordered Jan to check with the other grid points for confirmation.

"Running it against the database now." She waited for the computer to display the information query. "This is definitely no echo. The ping is solid, too. The meteor is real."

"Triangulate the vector and check the meteor's course against Earth," he said.

"I can't tell yet." Jan twirled her seat around to face the communications terminal and grabbed the receiver. "I'll call Parker and have him prep the _Protector_."

"Hold on," he said. "How close?"

"A million kilometers."

"That close." He turned to her display screen again to verify. Jan grunted, and he nodded toward her. "Why wasn't this picked up on long-range scanners?"

"I don't know. Let me call up the information from the scanners." Jan logged into the long-range scanner terminal. The screen returned only one word.

< _Connecting . . ._ >

It repeated the word until finally it read:

< _Connection timed out_ >

She groaned.

"Where is the info?" Ty said.

She slammed her fist against the keypad. "I can't connect to the database. Damn Martian junk. I knew we should have taken control of those systems on our end."

"Keep trying, I'll get the ship up and running. Parker was supposed to be overhauling some of the engine tonight."

"Is the _Protector_ operational?" Ty asked Eamonn.

"I hope so," Eamonn said with a bit of worry. He wasn't sure, but at least the rest of the crew would be at the _Protector_ helping Parker. To delay Bauer, he ordered them to the hangar. He looked over Jan's shoulder as she worked on the triangulation. "Any calculations coming in?"

"Hasn't been long enough . . ."

Eamonn bit his lower lip. "Double-check the crew. Make sure they are at the hangar or on their way. I'm going down to stop Parker."

"Captain," she replied, "the meteor is two hours away from impact. If it hits . . . " She shook her head. "We might be heading back to Mars with discharge papers."

"Don't be so dramatic." Eamonn smirked, wrinkling the scar on his forehead. "We haven't let one by yet."

Ty gave Jan a curious stern gaze. "We haven't faced this much pressure from Mars Central concerning the meteor stones. A newly placed importance has them watching us like the eye of Mordor."

"I understand," Eamonn said, not doubting that Mars had been giving Ty more pressure lately. He saw it in his reports.

Eamonn wanted to reassure Ty that Mars was more concerned with protecting the Earth, but he wasn't sure if he believed it. Metalor was aglitter in Mars's eye these days. Unfortunately, the spotlight was on Lunara and his crew's success. A blunder in missing a meteor would sink the crew.

He rushed out of the control room and ran toward the _Protector_.
Chapter 6

The din of the _Protector's_ ion drive echoed throughout the hangar. Seth smelled the familiar musk of the drives burning off excess gases in preparation for takeoff.

The crew was almost ready. Technicians scuttled around, performing preliminary launch preparations, reeling the fuel lines into position above the ship to service the starwings, checking over each rivet along the hull, and, to Seth's interest, clearing the gangway that gave access to the starwings on the top of the _Protector_ so the two pilots could enter. Warning lights blanketed the starship in a yellowish-orange glow.

Toward the rear of the ship, Gordon Roche loaded the last of the netting nodes into the meteor storing hold. He was in charge of the _Protector's_ netting assembly. "Get to your starwings," Roche yelled.

Seth rushed to his locker. He grabbed his gloves, boots, earpiece, and helmet, and jogged over to the elevator leading to the starwings.

Chloe hustled close behind until they reached the top. She paused at the access gangway. She always paused at that spot. According to her description of her fear of heights, the gangway would topple over when her weight, and only her weight, stepped on the metal surface.

Seth tugged on her arm. With a coaxing hand, he pulled her down the gangway and stopped at the fork, that point where the path split between the two starwings. "You be careful."

"Don't worry about me," she said. "Let me worry about you."

"I can't help myself." He smirked, gave her a salute for luck, and walked toward his starwing.

He gripped hard on the handrails as the _Protector_ rocked back and forth. Noticing that the main fueling hose was pulling away from the fuel _Regulator_ , he quickly slid into his cockpit. Fueling was one of the last operations before takeoff, and he guessed that Eamonn's patience was probably weighing thin. He settled in and glanced at Chloe. She had already slipped into her starwing on the near side of the ship. She waved to him and smiled as her canopy lowered.

Technicians locked the canopies in place and pulled back the access ladders for takeoff. The _Protector_ was in final preparation, and the yellow warning lights turned to green, signaling everyone to clear the hangar bay.

On the main bridge of the _Protector_ , Eamonn scanned the final checks. "Gwen, have you connected to the tower?"

"Uplink established, sir. Lunara Communications Control reads us loud and clear. All systems go here."

He turned toward Jan, who was in the pilot's seat. "Navigation ready?"

Jan held her hand up for a few moments, then lowered it as she finished her checks. "Uplink to navigation tracking satellites established. Coordinates in. Navigation—all systems go."

He switched on his radio receiver. "Are the starwings ready?"

Seth fastened the last of his air valves and electrical cords into his helmet and powered up the three-dimensional display screen attached to his visor. He twisted and turned his head; the display followed his movements, giving him plenty of extra data on the status of the ship and the area around it. He scanned his onboard sensor screen. Satisfied with the results, he flipped on his radio. "Display helmet is fully functional. Fuel and air supply read at maximum levels. Resonance charges are loaded. Starwing Alpha is a go."

"What about Chloe?" Eamonn radioed, his tone sharpening. "Come on."

Chloe turned her helmet on and began fiddling with the energy control switches on her right-hand control joystick. She flicked her finger onto the fuel readout gauge. Her tanks were partly full. She urged them to fill faster.

She switched on her radio to reply to Eamonn's requests. "Display helmet is fully functional. Fuel and air at moderate levels. I am waiting for full tanks. Give me a few minutes."

"Get a move on, Chloe. What's taking so long?"

She flipped on her alert screen, and the problem was revealed: the second relay pump had malfunctioned. The primary was pumping twice the normal amount. She throttled the fueling tank back and allowed it to catch up with the weight pushing into her starwing.

She turned on her comm. "One of the pumps from the fuel tanker malfunctioned. The primary is only working at half capacity. Do checks on the rear and get back to me in the meantime."

"I read you. Rear compartment, are you ready?"

Parker, seated at the front of the rear compartment at the salvaging controls, made sure all the technical readings were within acceptable levels. He checked down his preflight list and confirmed the levels were okay.

To him, the _Protector_ could handle more stress than a normal ship its size. He had redesigned the systems to take the force of top-speed turns and heavyweight towing. He believed a meteor run required agility and power, but Mars had its rules. and they checked flight logs at the quarterly review, so he was limited in what he could accomplish.

The computer returned its reading with all green lights, confirmation that all the systems were ready in the engine compartment. "Netting alignment complete, power levels acceptable, reel lines are secure. All systems go here," he read over the radio.

"What about the netting?" Eamonn said.

Parker cycled hand over hand, urging Roche to load the node quicker. "The netting will be ready in a minute, sir. Otherwise, we are all systems go."

"I'm almost finished," Roche called out.

Parker nodded.

"Make sure its ready before Lunara is out of sight," Eamonn replied.

"Yes, Captain."

"Starwing Omega, are your systems ready to go? Chloe?" Eamonn said.

"Fuel and air are at maximum levels. Charges are set. Starwing Omega is all systems go," Chloe replied into the radio.

The crew's speed pleased Eamonn. They were three minutes ahead of schedule. He completed the final checks on the list and closed the screen. "Flight log, all systems checked out. Green to go. Jan, take us out of here."

"Take off commencing in thirty seconds. Let's come back in one piece."

All the technicians scurried out of the hangar bay, securing the air locks along the way. The main doors opened to reveal the emptiness of space. Goose bumps moved up Eamonn's arm as the stars appeared through the doorway. He was ready to fly.

The tower chirped a communication alert. Gwen opened the channel, and a voice came over the bridge speaker: " _Protector_ , this is Officer Grove in Lunara Communications Control. I have received word from Flight Control, and you have permission to take off."

"Communications Control, for the record and the flight log, this is Communications Officer Gwen Arwell aboard the _Protector_. Flight crew aboard, and we are ready for departure. We'll be taking off momentarily."

"I read you."

The decompression of the hangar rocked the _Protector_. The antigravity thrusters fired, forcing the _Protector_ off the deck.

"Hold on," a different voice spoke. " _Protector_. Stand down."

"Who is this?" he said.

"Dr. Hans Bauer. You will return Seth Smith and Chloe Jones to the flight deck. They are no longer in active duty status. Mars Central sent the orders moments ago. They are required to submit to their physical."

"Captain," Seth said. "This is ridiculous. There is no time."

Eamonn sensed some panic in Seth's voice. "Seth. Quiet." He turned to Gwen. "Mute him."

"Captain Dalton," Atalo said, "the orders check out. I'm afraid we can't let you leave."

"What does the chief say?" Eamonn asked.

Jan gave him an odd glance. She wanted to go, but she knew that he couldn't disregard orders from Mars Central or he would lose the _Protector_.

"Chief Falloom has no authority here," Bauer said. "Disembark Seth Smith and Chloe Jones immediately."

Eamonn looked at Gwen, who muted the transmission. "Ideas?"

"You can't disobey orders," Gwen said.

"The hell he can't," Jan said. "Seth and Chloe are in trouble."

He rubbed the scar on his forehead. "I can't. Gwen is right. I'll lose the _Protector_."

Jan bristled. "You realize this delay will cause us to miss the meteor. We have to land, get the backups, and then take off again."

"I know," he said. "I'm not happy about it either, but we have no choice."

"Wait a sec," Gwen said. "We are hovering."

"So?" Jan said.

Gwen smirked. "This is why I am the diplomat and negotiator."

"What is it, Gwen?" Eamonn pressed her.

"You can't make someone inactive during a mission unless it is mission related," she said. "We've taken off, so the mission has started, and the order is not mission related."

"Therefore, Seth and Chloe are active until the mission is over!" Jan yelled.

"Get Bauer and Atalo back," Eamonn said.

Gwen nodded and flipped the switch.

"Atalo. We have liftoff. Our mission is underway. We are clearing through the hangar toward our target."

"Captain, I would advise against this," Bauer said. "The orders are clear. I will report this to Mars Central."

"Their mission has takeoff," Atalo replied. "You'll have to wait for their return. Permission granted, _Protector_."

Eamonn let out a long sigh. Atalo had recognized the ploy and played his hand perfectly.

Jan pushed the _Protector_ through the mouth of the door. The hangar shook in the engines' wake.

Once clear, the blue exhaust from the ion drive lit up. The _Protector_ surged forward, circled around toward the horizon of the Earth, accelerated to an astonishing rate, and sped away from the colony. Eamonn was already thinking about the report he would have to file when they returned—a long, convoluted report.
Chapter 7

As the _Protector_ neared the projected impact site of the meteor, it slowed into a high orbit. Besides the Earth, which loomed only a few hundred kilometers below, nothing else of importance was visible. All the Earth satellites that had once orbited were gone, replaced with Martian trackers, and without the moon or the sun, the dark side was unspectacular.

On the bridge, in front of Eamonn, the display panels relayed the final calculations on the trajectory and impact location for the incoming meteor.

"We are here, sir," Jan said. "The meteor will hit in twenty-seven minutes, forty-one seconds. I'm relaying the data to the starwings now."

He flipped on his comm unit. "You heard her, Seth and Chloe. We need those resonance charges attached and ready for detonation in twenty-five."

"Detaching now," Chloe said.

The latches of the starwing unclasped from the hull, and the entire ship echoed with the clang of it. The starwing's thrusters moved to a safe distance. She tapped her fingers along the controls as her panel popped one green light after another. To her relief, none displayed a red alert.

"Chloe," Seth radioed. "Are you ready to head out? My engines are all green to go."

"Green to go," she said.

"Follow me."

She matched his acceleration and followed close behind as he veered the ship toward the target path of the meteor. She squeezed the accelerator to full. Her starwing forced her back deep into her seat and sped off into space.

Eamonn turned his attention to the next task. "Parker, have Roche get that netting ready to catch the debris. I don't want to even miss a kilogram."

"No problem, sir. We will have it set up shortly," Parker replied over the radio.

"I'm sending you the coordinates for your setup location now," Jan added.

"Thanks, I got them. Switch the ship's controls over to the netting deployment system."

"Affirmative, I am switching to you guys." She called up the systems control screen and entered her passcode. The controls locked out and transferred to the rear compartment.

"We have control now," Parker said. "Sit back and enjoy the show."

Parker aligned the last of the nodes in the deployment bay. He checked over his calculations on his handheld display pad. All nodes were in normal parameters. He signed off on his checklist and gave instructions to commence with the deployment.

He swung the ship around so the rear faced away from the Earth toward the incoming meteor. The back compartment unlatched, and the nodes began to release. He carefully maneuvered to align each node into the proper place, with great precision. He aligned them perfectly, knowing that even the smallest hole would compromise the integrity of the electromagnetic field, leaving holes for the meteor to escape. The netting slowly took the form of a honeycombed-shape grid. He ran a triple calculation check, which was standard for all deployments, and checks indicated the net was within proper limits. He turned on the ship's autopilot systems and plotted the coordinates to maintain an orbit that kept the netting aligned with the impact site.

He radioed back to the cockpit. "We are ready down here."

The meteor flaunted its one large crevasse and many small craters as they approached.

Chloe turned on her infrared and ultraviolet scanners.

"Looks like a routine one," Seth said. "No sharp drops in elevation are present. Set the charges on half strength in a cone pattern so the blast doesn't send the debris all over the captain's windshield. I'm sending you the coordinates for your charge."

"Coordinates received." She made minor adjustments to her blast pattern and locked the charge into a ready state. "Ready."

"Let's make this as routine as possible."

The meteor bisected them. They yanked hard on their control sticks and performed a large circular loop. The blood seemed to drain from Chloe's head, and she grunted to clear her mind. Straightening out of a curve and throttling to maximum speed, the starwings caught the meteor with a single burst.

As Chloe glanced up at a view of the Earth, a small gray ball floated in her viewscreen, growing with each passing second. Sweat pooled against her forehead. She had never been this close to the Earth on a run.

She switched off her scanning sensors and turned on her proximity detection viewscreen. In her visor's display, the meteor's surface was tumbling only a hundred meters from the bottom of Seth's ship. She gripped hard on the control stick to steady her ship as Seth moved down toward the surface of the meteor.

"One hundred meters . . . seventy-five meters . . . overlaying targeting systems, extending resonance charge launching bay," he said. "I am at a distance of fifty meters. Firing . . . now."

Her helmet visor flashed red; her indication that the charge had exited his ship. The charge tore into the surface of the meteor, kicking up small debris off the bottom of his ship. After a few tedious seconds, the visor display relayed confirmation of success.

Seth pulled back from the meteor.

"Starwing Alpha's charge has been delivered. I am at a safe distance. Proceed when you are ready."

She took in a deep breath; it was her turn now.

"Starwing Omega moving into position." She pushed forward on her control stick to accelerate to a point where she was hovering over her assigned coordinates. She flipped on her proximity detection viewscreen.

"One-hundred-fifty meters . . . one hundred meters . . . seventy-five meters. I am overlaying the targeting systems, extending the resonance-charge launching bay. Coming into position . . . preparing the charges for release." Her mouth was dry, and she forced her tongue along her lips. Her eyes moved to focus on her visor display. The target was almost there. She double-checked all the calculations. "I'm firing." She pressed both of her fire control buttons simultaneously.

The charge bit hard into the surface of the meteor and began to drill down.

Without warning, a chunk of debris, large and metallic, clipped her wing. She caught only a glimpse of it out of her peripheral camera. The jolt caused her starwing to tumble to the right. She struggled with the control sticks to stabilize the ship as alarms bellowed in the cockpit, and her visor flashed red.

"Jinx, I hit a hollowing."

Seth radioed, "Chloe, you have to cut the charge stabilizers and use emergency thrusters. Do it now!"

She switched off her weapons stabilizers and fought her stick for control. Her starwing swerved back and forth, yawing away from the meteor. She shifted her lateral rockets in parallel with one another and fired them. The counterbalance effect stopped the swerving, and she leveled off. She fired her main engines again to catch the meteor.

"I got her stabilized again."

On the _Protector's_ bridge, Eamonn read the meteor data relayed from the starwings. Success was close.

Jan turned to Eamonn and yelled, "Captain, two minutes and thirty seconds until impact!"

"I see it!" He shook his head. Chloe needed to move faster. He flipped open his radio channel. "Chloe. Time is two-twenty."

"No, Captain," Seth radioed. "I am moving in. Her ship is damaged."

"Negative Alpha. Omega is still in position to set the charge. She'll go again—no time for a position transfer."

"Seth," Chloe said as calmly as she could, "I got this one. Don't worry about me."

The sun peeked over the Earth, filling Chloe's cabin with a bright, blinding light. As the tint spread across her windshield, she glanced out the front of the cockpit and the all-too-real view of the Earth came closer. She once again flipped on her visor's proximity detection screen and proceeded to move down toward the meteor for another run. The sweat from her forehead entered her eyes and she squinted.

"This one is all you," Seth said. Reluctance and dread was in his voice, which didn't give her a lot of confidence, considering the situation.

"Get a move on," Eamonn said. "We have about two minutes before we can't detonate the charges. If you can't get them laid, the _Protector_ will be buried into the Earth's surface."

"Don't worry, Captain. All I need is one. One hundred meters . . . seventy-five meters." As she activated her weapons systems, her visor's display alerted her to a physical malfunction in her launch barrel. "Jinx, looks like a piece of the meteor hit my primary. I'm switching to secondary."

"Hurry," Eamonn said. "You need to get within twenty-five meters for secondary weapons, Chloe. Time is running out."

"I know!" she radioed back.

Her ship raced alongside the meteor. She inched closer, and from the _Protector's_ view, they seemed almost to be touching, but the space between her and the meteor was enough. She was safe.

Her cockpit was aglow with a grayish-white luminous light. She peeked out the window; the large sphere that was the Earth, behind the electromagnetic netting, was fast approaching. She gripped harder on the control sticks. Sweat appeared between her fingers. _You have to do this_ , she thought. _Seth can't bail you out this time._

"Thirty seconds until we can't detonate on time," Jan said. "The charge takes ten seconds to dig."

"I got it, Jan . . . thirty meters . . . twenty-five meters." She wished herself luck. "Firing now."

Her helmet visor flashed red as the charge fired toward the meteor. It hit the surface hard but this time hit solid rock and chewed down into it. She received confirmation and let out a small sigh of satisfaction with her next breath.

"All charges set and ready for detonation!" Jan exclaimed.

"Detonate it now!" Eamonn shouted. "Chloe, get out!"

Gwen's gasp sounded over the radio.

Chloe yanked her starwing with a brilliant turn upward.

Small cracks of light emitted from the meteor as the resonance charges began to crumble it into smaller pieces. The ravaged meteor struck the first stage of the netting and was instantly purified into positively charged stones and dust fragments. Once the remnants reached the second stage, the negatively charged nodes pulled on the particles and all momentum was lost. Only a large field of stones, iron chunks, and particles remained behind the electromagnetic netting.

Chloe's heart pounded against her ribs. Her last-ditch attempt had turned out as she had hoped. She was successful. They were safe. She flipped up her visor and smiled.

Gwen yelled over the radio, "Chloe, that was terrific!"

"I would say yes, but I had to live through it," Chloe said softly. "I wouldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you guys."

"We knew you wouldn't let us down," Gwen radioed back.

Seth pulled his ship beside hers. "Chloe, attach to the _Protector_. I'll do the cleanup. Your ship needs repair."

She wasn't about to let him steal her moment. "I'm coming in to help with the cleanup."

"That's a negative, Omega," Eamonn ordered. "Attach to us. Your ship needs repair. Seth can handle this cleanup alone."

_Jinx._ She sighed. "Right away, Captain."

As the rest of the crew concentrated on gathering the meteor stones and filtering them into the cargo hold, Gwen was busy turning the frequency dial and flicking numerous switches on her display screen, trying to find a channel to Lunara. With all the excitement and activity, she had noticed, only in the last few minutes, that the connection had been broken from the other end. She scanned the communication logs and found they had been out of contact for approximately half an hour.

"Lunara Colony, this is Communications Officer Gwen Arwell aboard the _Protector_. Do you copy?" She adjusted her frequency again and made another unsuccessful attempt.

Eamonn approached from behind her. She turned to him. "Captain, I can't contact Lunara. They just aren't replying."

"Maybe one of the relays is down," he said, as his eyes narrowed toward the viewscreen. "Try another one."

"Already did, all the relays are down. Maybe it's a problem on their end."

"They all can't be down, that isn't possible." He snatched the communications receiver and switched to a security priority channel. "Lunara Colony, this is Captain Eamonn Dalton of the mining ship _Protector_. Do you copy? Priority one message. Please reply." There was silence, and the captain's mouth twisted in anxiety.

Gwen wondered aloud, "Maybe the same problem is affecting the long-range scanners. Some kind of malfunction or virus."

"Who would plant a virus on the _Protector_? I see no evidence of it, and the security relays are all static. Unless you fly to the relay and upload new memory card data, they have unchangeable source code. Our dish or a natural event is the cause . . . a solar flare perhaps."

"Solar flares wouldn't affect us this close to the Earth. The magnetic field deflects the particles, especially on the dark side."

Eamonn rubbed the scar along his brow. "I didn't believe myself either. Have you tried to run a diagnostic routine on the relays?"

"Yes, they all return a signal on this side of the planet. I can't reach anything on Lunara's side. Let me try to send a ping to the Black Widow web grid." She punched in the commands and sent the signals to random relays on the Black Widow system. Where were they? Something should be giving chatter, away from Lunara. The Ares construction team was constantly chattering. But the communications relayed only static and dead air.

Gwen's throat muscles tightened. She swallowed.

"No information coming in. Nothing! It's as if they aren't even there," she said. Her mind stabbed with the thought of something happening to Lunara, a catastrophic explosion at the meteor refinery or the fueling depot.

"I don't like this at all," said Eamonn. "Run a _full_ diagnostic on the communications systems. I'll rush the crew, and we can head back to Lunara within the hour."

"The diagnostic routine will take a half hour to run. I'll let you know the results right away."

"Good work, Gwen. You should consider dropping the diplomatic title and becoming a starship technician."

"I would," she said. "but my father might have a heart attack."

He laughed. "You are probably right, Princess."

"You know I hate that!" she shouted, jokingly.

Forty minutes later, Parker secured the last of the clasps in place, and the cargo was ready to depart. The bridge was quiet, even the control gauges and monitoring displays. Everything checked out for departure.

Eamonn nodded to Jan.

She eased on the accelerator. The ion engines blazed a bright blue streak and gained momentum toward the horizon on a course straight to Lunara.
Chapter 8

"We should be coming around to the near side of the Earth in a few minutes," Jan said.

Eamonn sat back in the captain's chair looking over the data received from the comm diagnostic. He was anxious to contact Lunara. The missing comm signal made him feel alone and insecure. Space, even so close to the Earth, was an isolated place without the tether of communication to the nearest station. He had hidden his apprehension from the crew well and ordered them to minor jobs to keep them busy for the time being.

Parker and Roche were figuring out how much metalor they had retrieved on their run. Seth and Chloe had moved down from their starwings to the bridge, helping Gwen troubleshoot the communications problem. Chloe sat beside Gwen scanning different frequencies and relay systems, trying to contact Lunara. Seth worked hard on opening electronic compartments underneath the comm terminals, looking for physical malfunctions in the system.

"Nothing is wrong with wiring or the hardware. All the readings check out positive." Seth sat up and tossed his gloves into the supply box.

"The diagnostic states we passed all the standard tests." Eamonn shook his head. "Gwen, did you find anything yet?"

"Nothing yet, Captain. We should be able to get a line-of-sight transmission to Lunara as soon we round Earth."

"Rounding in a few seconds," Jan added.

The _Protector_ orbited the Earth, and the crew looked out with amazement in their eyes. The gray-white glare of the moon's reflection lit the bridge, and the craters formed into a visible shape. The sight meant they were close to home.

Chloe's eyes widened and her mouth slowly opened. "So beautiful."

Her reaction created a similar excitement in Eamonn's gut. He never found it customary to view the moon edge out of the Earth's shadow; it was one of nature's great awe-inspiring marvels.

"Gwen," Eamonn said. "You should be able to send that transmission now."

Gwen let out a quick breath. "I'm not picking up the homing ping from Lunara. Let me scan all frequencies."

"Don't bother," Chloe muttered. "Something isn't right. The airwaves are jammed," She gazed far off toward Lunara.

"What do you mean?" Eamonn said, turning to her. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes glazed over, and her head bobbed. Her face turned a ghastly pale.

"Are you okay? Do you need to lie down?" Seth said as he put his arm around her waist.

Her head fell to Seth's shoulder. "The thoughts are overwhelming . . . strong emotions cluttering my mind. Horrific emotions." Her voice was lighter and sounded empty. "Lunara is under attack."

A low growl rumbled from Jan's throat.

Ty sprang to Eamonn's mind. _Is he safe? Is everyone safe?_ Something caught his eye on the viewscreen—three large objects and several small ones buzzing around Lunara. "What is that? Those aren't mining freighters. I don't like this."

"War cruisers!" Jan said, raising her voice. "But nothing I have seen before. Whose are they?"

"What does radar say?" Eamonn said.

"It isn't picking them up, neither a physical signal nor transponder codes. This ship is going haywire." Jan smacked her palm against the console.

Eamonn looked down at his console. Blips emerged from between the far-reaching towers. Something was there. Then, suddenly, everything disappeared.

Instantly, he turned to the viewscreen. The cruisers floated above the colony still. Perhaps the _Protector_ was malfunctioning. He shook his head at that thought. Parker didn't find any errors in the diagnostics. Plus, he never let anything happen to the _Protector_.

"Parker," Eamonn said, flipping his comm on. "Anything wrong with the radar?" _A first time for everything._

"I see that, too," Parker radioed. "Or I should say, I don't see it. Radar is working fine. The Earth and moon are sending signals."

Eamonn peered down at this control. The Earth and moon shone like bright beacons in the far corner of the screen. On his first glance, he took them for granted.

"Thanks, Parker. Nothing more." He flipped off the comm. "Anything on the channels?"

"One sec," Gwen said.

Eamonn switched on the Lunaran beacon that automatically sent out their identification signal. No one replied.

Gwen hastened with the communication controls. She pressed her hand against the earmuff of the headset. "Sir, I have a looped transmission from Lunara Colony. I think you had better listen right away. Ty is transmitting; he says Lunara is in trouble."

"Put it on the main screen."

A picture unscrambled of Ty's face. " . . . under attack . . . help . . . taken over . . ."

"Can we clean up the static a bit?"

"On it, sir."

They all watched in horror the last of the transmission. "Eamonn . . . get to Mars . . . No, don't."

The butt of a gun jarred Ty's head. The soldier's figure flashed on the screen and then disappeared even faster.

The bridge was quiet. No one wanted to speak, and they fixated on Lunara as the surreal tragedy unfolded. The awkwardness made everyone shift in their seat.

Eamonn's mind raced with possibilities. No obvious reasons came to mind, and nothing Ty had said to him recently would indicate any danger to Lunara. He squared his jaw and turned to Seth. "Look out the windows and fast. We are not alone!"

Seth sprang to his feet and ran toward the portholes to the back of the bridge, but as the hull groaned and the ship rattled, he stumbled to one knee. He grabbed a support above him.

"What was that?" Chloe exclaimed.

Gwen turned to Eamonn, her face taut and anxious. "Incoming transmission. They're asking for our surrender . . . and to cooperate with the escort back to Lunara. If we resist, we will be destroyed."

"Captain," Jan said, "the radar picked up their plasma fire. The blasts came from the port side. At least two ships, maybe three."

"Why doesn't radar pick them up? I hate this." Eamonn slammed his fist hard on the radar controls, demanding they give him the information he needed. The screen remained blank.

"They demand a reply," Gwen urged. "What should I tell them?"

Eamonn turned his captain's chair to the main viewscreen, giving no hint of his thoughts. They stared at him as he gazed toward Lunara. He had to make a tough decision and neither of the alternatives appealed to him. He could either leave Ty and go to Mars for help or fight for Lunara against a massive fleet. He ran a few calculations in the terminal attached to the arm of his chair. He refused to look any of the crew in the eye because he knew they all wanted to stay. He couldn't allow himself to be influenced by their emotions.

"Sir," Gwen said with more urgency in her voice this time. "They want a reply."

"Signal them and say we'll follow their orders and offer our unconditional surrender."

"Sir, we can't just surrender," Gwen pleaded. "What about Ty and the others?"

"Miss Arwell, you have your orders. Shall I have Miss Jones send that transmission?" His tone was uncharacteristically harsh.

"No, sir," Gwen said. Her body cowered back into her chair. She turned on her communications channel and tuned to the correct frequency. "Unidentified fighter, we offer our surrender. Send us the escort route, and we will cooperate."

Gwen listened for their reply. "They want us to lead them into Lunara."

"Very good," he said. "Seth, go to the rear compartment. Get the plasma gun prepared for deployment but don't swing it out until I give the word.

"Chloe, go with Seth and get Roche ready to release the meteor stones at a moment's notice. Have Parker charge up the weapons systems, but quietly. Don't go too fast or they will see the spikes. We don't want to spook them. Jan, fly as close to the surface as you can without making it look suspicious."

The _Protector_ made a slow approach toward Lunara, escorted by what turned out to be three enemy fighters. Two of the ships flanked the _Protector_ while the third trailed closely behind to form a V pattern. Three battle cruisers hung over the colony and countless short-range fighters weaved through the towers.

From Eamonn's vantage point, coming in from the western edge, the four towers of Lunara reached high into space. The command tower, the tallest of them all, was the central feature of the colony. The three other towers formed a semicircle to the south and controlled the docking bay and the processing plants. Eamonn, though still far away, couldn't spot any damage to the residential bubbles situated on the western edge of the colony. But the main complex that surrounded the main tower had a few spots of charring, most noticeably where the communication dishes used to be.

The bridge crew sat in silence, observing the happenings through the main window. The hum of the engine and small creaks in the hull punctuated the silence.

Eamonn's mouth was dry, his heart labored, and his hands sweaty; a part of him wanted to return to Lunara to learn of its fate. Dreadful scenarios ran through his head, twisting his heart in sorrow. Ty had given him so much, and now he had to abandon him, but Ty had also ordered him to Mars.

His screen flashed.

"Sir," Gwen said. "They have sent the coordinates to follow for our access into Lunara."

"Confirm those orders. Jan, be sure you are ready to turn the engine on full and follow my coordinates," he said. "Follow their vector for now."

Gwen keyed in her radio. "Unidentified fighters, this is _Protector_. We are changing course."

He flipped on the rear comm. "Roche, open the release valves as soon as we reach maximum acceleration."

"I hope she'll hold," Parker replied.

"She will," he said. He did not entirely believe it, but the _Protector_ had proved repeatedly that it was a tougher ship than he had given it credit for, and Parker's upgrades had honed the toughness even further.

Jan lowered the ship's altitude. The moon was a few thousand meters below. Visible ahead, the giant battle cruisers awoke, threading their way through the peaks of the towers of Lunara. One of the cruisers arced away from Lunara, roared its engines, and started to converge on an intercept course. Somehow, Eamonn didn't think the hulking ship was a welcoming committee.

However, he wasn't going to allow the cruiser to board or even come close. He strapped himself tightly against his seat and dumped power into the weapons system—a paltry pair of turbo lasers on the front and an ancient turret gun in the rear. On his screen, the lunar surface grew closer to the belly of the _Protector_. He waited; the hairs on his arm stood on end. The timing of his ploy had to be perfect. _A little more. A little more._

He looked over to Jan. "We are as hidden as we are going to be." He took in a long breath. "Jan turn to coordinates eleven mark four, full acceleration."

The _Protector_ lurched to the left, groaning as its weight pushed back. The maneuver cut off one enemy fighter, sending it into a dive into the lunar surface.

Jan straightened out the ship's arc, and a long trail of blue exhaust blazed a path behind them.

The other two fighters accelerated to match the _Protector's_ speed. The cruiser and the escorts plodded toward them, still too far away to do anything to help.

Threats from the fighters, ordering them to shut down engines and surrender, bombarded Gwen's headset.

The frontward fighter moved in front in an attempt to cut off the _Protector_ , but the weight difference in the two ships made it a futile effort.

The _Protector_ bullied its way forward. Not wanting to tempt fate any further, the fighter shifted to a position beside the _Protector_.

"Parker, Roche, you're up," Eamonn said, knowing this last trick had to be enough to pull them away from the ever-closing battle cruiser.

The fighter to the stern flew in close, trying to disable the engines with a precision shot from the forward sonic cannon. But before the fighter could align the shot, the mouth of the _Protector_ sprang open and out poured tons of meteor stones. Caught in the stream, and before the pilot could attempt to maneuver out of the path of the oncoming debris, the fighter exploded in a flash of light and fire.

The sudden drop in weight jolted the _Protector_ forward, ahead of the remaining fighter. The jolt sent the entire bridge crew lurching backward with a chorus of colorful curses.

Shortly after, the much smaller and more nimble fighter caught up to the _Protector_ , but the _Protector_ had gained valuable distance from the cruiser.

Eamonn slammed the control panel to his left, sending the plasma shielding spilling across the hull. He was pleased with the escape so far. The _Protector_ had bullied the fighters as intended, yet he hadn't thought of what to do beyond this point. Whether it could be called a legitimate plan or not, improvisation was his next course of action. He chewed on his lower lip as he stared at the rear display.

After a few jockeying moves for position, a second fighter streaked up to the port side; it was the same one that the _Protector_ had sent into a nose dive. The attacking fighters seemed to have gained confidence, perhaps feeling they were more maneuverable. They dropped back and fired streams of bullets around the _Protector_. Jan twisted and turned the ship, avoiding their bite. The bullets' blue streaks zipped into the emptiness of space.

In the rear compartment, as the last of the meteor stones exited out of the cargo bay, Seth deployed the turret gun out of the right side of the ship. He returned fire as soon as he received confirmation that the gun had locked in place.

The enemy fighters weaved back and forth, trying to avoid Seth's precision shots, but unbeknownst to them, the counter maneuvers of the _Protector_ and the turret gun's lack of mobility had made it impossible for Seth to lock on his targets.

They continued to trade fire in an attempt to gain better positioning. Fighting off the glaring sun, Seth squinted, trying to track the fighters as the _Protector_ yawed upward. The inaccuracy of the turret guns enabled the fighters to move within close proximity of the _Protector_. Seth was helpless to stop them.

One of the fighters swept in toward the turret.

Seth grimaced as he watched the bullets fly over his head and strike the hull above him. The plasma shield fizzled.

Unable to capitalize on his failure, the fighter left itself exposed for the kill. Seth's helmet visor signaled he had locked the target, and he returned fire.

The fighter attempted to avoid the counterattack but was too late in realizing its error. The bullets ripped the right engine apart and twirled the fighter like a pinwheel into deep space.

Only one fighter remained.

On the bridge, Jan fought with the controls while Eamonn tried to locate the fighter with only secondhand information from the plasma gun signatures. The radar couldn't find it, frustrating him.

"We're almost out of the gravity well of the moon," Jan said, "but with that fighter so close to us . . . we can't activate the magnetic field for the quickdrives."

Eamonn scanned the _Protector's_ speed controls. "Can we outrun the fighter?"

"No! I need the quickdrives activated to outrun it," Jan said.

Eamonn looked at his visual display of the rear of the ship. "If we don't lose the fighter soon, that battle cruiser will attach tow cable."

"Why doesn't the fighter take out our engines already?" Jan said. "I would."

"Keep avoiding him—"

"I don't see anything I can do. He's too nimble. As of now, I have been flying straight."

"Straight!" Eamonn cried. Then an epiphany hit him. He stared at the viewscreen. "He isn't trying to shoot us down! He is trying to slow us so we surrender. They want us alive. Those three fighters could easily take us out. This last one wants us to stay close so we can't make a jump to Mars. Disabling a ship at the first sign of escape is always a prisoner escort's first priority. They never would attempt to cut us off in those small fighters."

"Why would they want us alive?" Gwen said.

"You are on the ship," he said. "The chancellor's daughter, a kidnapping attempt. That makes sense."

"This wouldn't be the first time an attempt has been made, but this is too elaborate. Any plays against my father's power would only result in pain for the person kidnapping me. The solar system is too small to hide. If I were to bet, I would say the medical personnel sent by Minister Cortez are the reason. The timing makes perfect sense. I don't believe in coincidences."

"You're both wrong," Jan interjected. "The invasion is all about the metalor, and the _Protector_ is the only ship in the fleet that can handle the meteors coming in. They don't want it harmed. When we were called away, their timing turned bad."

"My bet is still an attempt against Gwen is intertwined in this," Eamonn said. "Perhaps one of the nonaligned colonies orchestrated a power play. Castor and Pollux would be my guess."

"Castor and Pollux couldn't administer their way out of a Martian crater," Gwen replied. "No way they could pull off getting this many ships. My guess: a splinter faction from Aethpis Colony _if this is an attempt on my life._ "

The _Protector_ pushed forward.

"We need to get them off us," Jan said. "No matter their cause. I think I can bump the fighter. Use our size to push them away."

"A collision would destroy us, too," Gwen replied. "The fighter shouldn't have much fuel left. We can outrun them."

"The battle cruiser is gaining on us." Eamonn exhaled a quick breath. "I don't know how, but it is gaining on us."

The cruiser pressed toward them, looming only kilometers away. Bullets flew past the nose of the _Protector_.

"Don't react to the fire," he said. "Our goal is to keep our distance. I don't think they will shoot us down."

Seth gripped hard on the handle of his weapon's control stick. The enemy darted all over the screen and a lock was nearly impossible. He adjusted his hands on the grip and flicked off the autolock. He would have to trust he was better than the computer. It had failed him so far.

The fighter shot again, burning metal on the hull. All the lights flickered in the rear compartment. Parker frantically worked at the control station, trying to fix whatever was wrong.

The fighter pilot sensed something was wrong, too, but Seth sensed his greed first. He sent a volley of bullets to the heart of the ship, right under the engine mount.

Fatal hit. The main fuel lines burst into clouds of exploding blue orbs. The pilot immediately ejected into space; his ship twirled uncontrolled away from the _Protector_ and exploded with a brilliant blaze.

"We got it!" Chloe shouted and turned to the intercom. "Eamonn, get us out of here!"

"This will be close," Jan said. "I need a few seconds to power the magnetic field up before I can switch on the quickdrive."

Eamonn gripped hard against the armrests of his captain's chair and urged the _Protector_ to go faster. The battle cruiser closed in and was within a few kilometers. Trying to keep as much distance as possible from the pursuers, Eamonn ordered Jan to veer away. They were keeping enough distance, but it might not last.

"They are extending their grappling arms; we need to leap in a few seconds before they fire the tow ropes!" Eamonn shouted to Jan.

"They still request we surrender," Gwen said. "Escape is not an option . . . if we believe them."

"I don't. Stow the comm updates for now," he said.

The battle cruiser kept up the relentless pursuit, firing bullets and exploding missiles in front of the _Protector_.

Eamonn admired Jan as she concentrated on powering the quickdrives for launch to Mars. He clenched his teeth hard, wanting more than anything to order her to evade the incoming fire. But that would cost them their freedom.

The cruiser closed to within range of the tow ropes and fired immediately. They shot out straight toward the belly of the _Protector_.

Eamonn's nav screen showed Jan plotting the course into the navigation computer.

The computer flashed.

< _Processing . . ._ >

_Jinx,_ he thought. _No time left. Doesn't this computer have any sense of urgency built in?_

The claw of the tow cable glittered in the viewscreen as it flew toward them.

Gwen gasped.

Eamonn glanced at the nav computer again.

< _Processing . . ._ >

Then he looked back to the tow claw, which was only two hundred meters away and closing.

The computer chimed.

< _Course set_ >

Instantaneously, Jan punched the controls to ignite the quickdrives. The _Protector_ lurched forward, and after an initial jostle, stabilized into a consistent push into the depths.

The cruiser's tow ropes snapped to a halt as they ran out of cabling and only caught empty space.

"There we go, two hundred and fifty kilometers per second," Jan said, clapping her hands together, exhilarated. Gwen and the rear crew shouted in triumph.

Even though he, too, felt euphoric, Eamonn didn't sit around patting anyone on the back. Then a sense of dread suddenly gripped him.

Next stop, Mars.
Chapter 9

In the crew cabin of the _Protector_ , Seth fought the urge to sleep. The terror of returning to Mars ate at his psyche, and his dreams had been mostly nightmarish reminders of what had happened to him and Chloe. He had not been on Mars in almost fifteen years, since he was a scared, ten-year-old boy who survived on the planet during a revolutionary war, without a home or a family. He wanted to forget that time, but his subconscious would not.

His eyelids grew heavy. He couldn't fight the urge any longer; thirty hours without sleep was too much for him. He fell into a deep sleep, and instantly a nightmare captured him.

"Lock down your houses! Raiders are here!" the mayor bellowed from the center square of his small Martian town.

A young boy watched, cowering behind a bench only meters away, as the mayor tried to create order in the chaos. The boy knew it was futile. No one was listening, most were already dead.

Before the mayor uttered another warning cry, a hammer, propelled by a passing raider, smashed into the side of his head with a hollow thud, knocking off his breathing mask and throwing him to the ground. The mayor flailed his arms, trying to locate his air supply. The mask lay out of his grasp. With large gulps, he gasped a series of whimpers as his lungs searched for oxygen.

The boy, paralyzed, wanted to tell the mayor that the mask had been flung into the collection of rocks, but his drying mouth wouldn't allow him to speak. He struggled to find the courage that would allow him to form the words that would help, a simple instruction to look in the opposite direction. But how could he call out? A raider might find him, too. His mother had told him not to wander away from his house because disobedience would cost him his life. He had to get home.

His eyes fixated on the dying mayor as the screams and chaos around the town's main square flowed past his ears. He could hear his heart thumping. In front of him, a man was suffering, and yet he did nothing.

The mayor slumped over, and their eyes met.

The boy flinched backward, trying to avoid the mayor's pathetic eyes, but his body, fully wedged under the bench, had no escape.

The mayor said: " _Go, find safety, be brave._ "

With a jolt, the boy ran as fast as his legs could take him toward his home. He darted between houses and slid under gaps in fences too small for grown men to follow.

Bedlam consumed the town. He tried to block the screams of men and women pleading for their lives. The chaos surrounded him, and there was no escape in sight. But he had to find a way to survive.

Shaking his head, he attempted to toss the nightmare from his mind. His focus had to be on getting to his mother. She was all that mattered to him; she was the only person he loved. He kept repeating what the mayor had told him—Go, find safety, be brave.

But he wasn't brave. He had left the mayor to die, and if he didn't get home to protect his mother, she would die, too.

After navigating through most of the town, he arrived in an alleyway off the main road of the colony. He was at the nearest crossroads to his house, which was only a few hundred meters away.

Up and down the road, the raiders were loading medicine and food supplies into their cargo vans and large flatbeds. There were too many of them stalking the street for him to avoid. He counted four and could hear several more yelling orders around the blind corner to his position.

He moved back behind the garbage receptacles in the rear of the alley. He rested, biding his time, trying to shake the images of the journey across town, but the horrors would remain in him. _What was happening? Why is the town so weak and not fighting back?_ Then he recalled his own fear when he had done nothing for the mayor. That fear was haunting him already, consuming his mind with horrible visions, including an unnerving paranoia that made him believe every raider in the town knew where he was and would find him. The nightmare would never end. He cursed himself for being a coward.

He heard a scream come from one of the buildings close by. He tensed and stayed still as he heard the scuffling of boots and saw the shadow of two large figures pass by the alleyway. He pressed his shoulders against the wall.

Footsteps pattered toward the alley and stopped at the entrance. He tried to hold back the tears. Too late, the cool streaks trickled down his cheek. The paralysis of fear took over his muscles again. The men remained silent. He sensed their presence and wished a thousand times that they would disappear.

The footsteps backed off and continued on. The boy relaxed and wiped the tears from his face. He couldn't get the fear out of his head.

"She is safe. She has to be," he muttered. "The security system is on, and she is safely in our house."

He had to find a way to get home.

Unable to hear the raiders anymore, he decided to try another route. He slipped back under the fence and circled around the yard backing the alley.

Rounding the corner of the last house on the row, he stopped and held back a cry of horror. He reeled against the nearest fence, his spirit sinking like a torpedoed boat. The dead woman stared up at him with an unmoving face; eyes had never seemed so lifeless. He reached down to take off her breathing mask to reveal her face. His hands shook as he discovered that his greatest fear had been realized. In his heart, he knew she wouldn't stay behind their security system without him. She had come looking for him. Why did he wander so far from his home? She had told him a thousand times to keep near the house.

"Seth, don't wander off." Her words echoed in his mind.

His mother had died because of him!

"No!" Seth shouted. He was back in the crew cabin aboard the _Protector_ , Chloe snug in his arms. He rested his head on the pillow and sighed.

"What's the matter?" asked Chloe, squeezing his hand. "You are sweating."

Seth wiped the sweat from his brow with the cuff of his shirt. A cold chill ran across his body. "Nothing, just a dream."

"Something is the matter."

"I'm going to find a way to block you eventually," he said, pushing his finger playfully into her ribs.

She squirmed and giggled. "Stop that. I won't read your thoughts again."

"Promise," Seth said, digging harder along her torso.

"Promise!" Chloe said. "No more."

Seth smiled, then his face became somber and sad. "I dreamt about the death of my mother." He swallowed hard. "Now, with Lunara being taken from us and Ty probably dead, I'm disillusioned again. Ty is, or was, as close to a father as anyone. Why does this keep happening to me? I just want you to be safe. Back during the battle, right before we were about to fire upon those ships. I wished us to another time, another place. I didn't care what happened to anyone else."

"We were put in this time and place. You can't simply escape the reality because you want a different life. We are upset and shaken. We'll arrive on Mars soon and find out what happened."

"Mars took something away from us last time. That is why we left. I can't forgive Mars. What if nothing changed?"

"The new government changed a lot of things. Gwen told us about those changes, and you've read the news reports. Why don't you listen to it?"

She smiled in an attempt to alleviate his fears. He looked away, disgusted at the thought of Mars. He would never forgive Mars. Not even a little.

The hatch to the cabin clanged open; Jan and Parker slid through the opening. Chloe moved over to Jan. "How are you doing?" she said. "Ty is a fighter. The colony is huge, and only Lunarans are aware of the labyrinth of crawl spaces." She placed her arm around Jan's shoulder, comforting her.

"Ty will stay alive until we return," Parker said as he tapped the control panel. The food repository dispensed a warm vitamin drink.

"I hope you're correct. I'm sick with worry," Jan said, sitting down at the dining table.

Jan's eyes reddened.

Since Seth arrived on Lunara, Jan had watched over him and made sure he stayed committed to his goal of becoming a top pilot. She had taught him everything about space flight. And after he almost crashed into the towers of Lunara in a dangerous stunt—a figure eight weave through the colony to impress Chloe—Jan was the one who humbled him, taking away his wings for over a year. That was seven years ago, when he was a teenager and incapable of assisting her. Now, a man, he could help her.

"I will fight for Ty, even to our death," Seth said.

Chloe and Parker nodded their heads in agreement.

"I know you all will," Jan said. "You are all like sons and daughters to me and I don't want you getting into any danger. Is that clear?"

"Understood, but we would fly to the sun in a waxed ship to save Ty," Chloe said. "I'm afraid you're stuck with our help no matter where we end up." She put her arm around Jan.

"You grew up too fast," Jan said.

They sat in silence for a while. The ship swayed as the ion drive pushed toward Mars. Between Mars and the Earth—the most heavily traveled route in the solar system—Seth felt alone. There was no sign that anyone existed. Only the celestial bodies of the sun, the thousands of smaller specs surrounding them, the fading Earth, and the increasing red hue of Mars indicated the existence of something beyond their ship. He wondered how the early pioneers had traveled without the subspace communications. He could never stand the radio delays.

"The _Protector_ really took a pounding," Parker said.

"You did a good job," Seth replied to his friend. "The _Protector_ performed more than admirably."

"Thanks."

When Parker first arrived on Lunara, Seth had realized straightaway that he would be a good friend. Not only did they both love space flight, but also, Parker's passion for the _Protector_ and Seth's rabid desire to be the number one starwing pilot meant they would spend a lot of time together in the hangar bays. The _Protector_ wasn't the newest ship out of Mars, but Parker made sure it was the most capable. Had he been on Mars, his abilities would have revolutionized how maintenance and reconfiguration engineering was done on the older vessels, but Lunara put Parker in the dimmest of lights. Martian engineering accolades didn't travel this far out. And Parker didn't mind.

On more than one occasion, Seth had asked Parker if his life was unfulfilled. Parker always answered that his love for the _Protector_ was enough for him. But at one time, Parker had been a top recruit at the military academy on Mars, specializing in tactical ground assaults. However, military life didn't satisfy Parker, and he moved into the engineering field, where he also excelled. Yet he never worked in the shipyards on Phobos, where he would have gained prestige. He wanted the _Protector_. Seth suspected that Parker loved the solitude involved in maintaining his own ship. The shipyards made the breakthroughs in design, but shipbuilding involved teams of hundreds working on the ship. Parker could never have survived that environment.

"What is Eamonn doing?" Seth said.

"He's scanning the communication frequencies for loose transmissions from the battle," Parker said. "Even out here, the relays aren't transmitting. We can't hit the Martian relays either. We are mute."

"Those relays are always up. To coordinate shutting them down would take a lot of planning," Seth said. "I am beginning to wonder if our arrival on Mars will be welcomed."

Parker shrugged. "We're nearing range of short-way communications, so I guess we'll find out shortly."

"Good, I can't wait to get some answers from Mars. I'm going to help Eamonn hack some of those relays. I want to be on the bridge when we first contact Mars."

Gwen walked with a slight spring in her step through the corridors of the _Protector_. Soon, she would be back on Mars, and the thought excited her beyond her expectations. She had been so angry when she left that she thought of a return to Mars as an admission to her father that she couldn't hack it on her own.

However, the crew was coming back with her, and confidence spread through her like a virus. She was bringing back an accomplishment . . . as well as bad news.

The invasion of Lunara puzzled her greatly. Eamonn suspected the motivation was a plot to kidnap her, but three battle cruisers parked over Lunara told her otherwise. Someone wanted Seth and Chloe and the metalor. But the identity of that someone was a mystery.

"Gwen," Seth said as he came down the corridor. His shoulders drooped, and the concern on his face pulled on her heart. The other mystery of the past few days was Mars Medical's interest in Seth and Chloe. While Eamonn and Jan were worried about the invasion, after speaking with Parker, she intended to use her time on Mars to look further into the background of her friends.

She stopped in front of him. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess," he said, but it was easy to see that he was hiding something behind his words. "I have to ask . . . has Mars changed?"

Gwen could tell he was holding back. "Not sure what you mean by that. Mars is always changing. The terraforming project is moving along ahead of schedule, and the main colonies are in the midst of an economic boom."

Gwen knew that Seth's effort to block out everything concerning Mars didn't extend to the terraforming project. He often commented on Mars's one great accomplishment that had been ongoing for the last two hundred years. It was the combined effort of all of the people, Aethpisian, Zephyrian, and the smaller colonies, to change Mars into a more hospitable planet, more _Earthlike_ as Seth would say.

He eyed her, and she found some suspicion in his gaze.

"The algae farms extend to over eighty percent of the northern hemisphere now," she said. "And the oxygen and carbon dioxide factories number in the thousands. My father keeps reminding me of when we needed body suits on Mars. Now a simple breathing mask."

Seth shook his head. "The terraforming is all well and good for the planet, but the people couldn't have changed so drastically. The raiders must still exist."

"What is really the problem?" Gwen asked. Perhaps confronting him, rather than Chloe, would get her some answers.

His eyes evaded hers. "I don't know if I can protect Chloe anymore. She wants to return to Mars, but I don't think I can."

"You are going to have to accept it. We will be there in less than a day."

"I know. I mean permanently."

She put her hand against his cheek to comfort him, realizing how hard it was for him to consider a return to Mars, let alone moving there permanently.

He pushed into her touch.

"The governments have provided opportunity for everyone," she said, softly. "The raiders are gone, and she is safe."

He shook his head. "Her mind grows stronger. I can feel the conflict within her about my fears. I'm losing my grip on her."

"You shouldn't have a grip on her. You are her partner, not her keeper."

"She is free to leave me."

"She loves you, so she can't. Why can't you let go of your pain? What happened to you?"

"How can I protect her now? Mars will always be unsafe to me."

She saw the turmoil churning behind his bright green eyes. "You ignore the past, but your mind keeps Mars in the past. It is safe now. Your mind is the cancer, not the planet. The crew and I will always be there for the both of you. I can help you overcome your fear of Mars."

He shook his head. "The crew has their lives to worry about. I must protect her myself."

"But you can't do it by yourself. Do you see the pressure you put yourself under? You put the same pressure on Chloe, too, and you are driving her away."

"I know." His lip quivered.

She couldn't conjure any words to soothe him. His fear had consumed him for a long time, and she hoped a short return to Mars would be enough to rediscover trust. Yet, an invasion loomed over their heads back on Lunara. Someone on Mars was responsible, and she had no doubt he would blame the entire planet.

She folded her arms around his head as he moved in close and started to cry. Somehow, she would find a way to comfort him.

"Captain," Parker said, opening the door to the captain's cabin. He was excited to tell the captain of the progress he had made on the _Protector_. Overall, he thought it was running well above expectations.

"Mr. McCloud," Eamonn said, as he always did when Parker had some ship's business to pass along to him.

Parker leaned against the bulkhead with one arm while putting his other arm in his stained cargo-pants' pocket. "The hull containment issues have been resolved, and the shielding has been restored to a hundred percent."

"And repairs?" Eamonn's hazel eyes flickered with concern. "What will we need on Mars?"

"Some hull painting and a new valve for the rear compartment. The stones did a number on it."

"That's it?"

Parker nodded. "The engines didn't receive any damage, and with quickdrives engaged, I was able to power down the thrusters completely, run a thorough diagnostic, and complete a half dozen minor repairs."

"Excellent work," Eamonn said. "We shouldn't have any problems on Mars, then."

"We might," Parker said. "If Mars is in conflict, our weapons systems are painfully inadequate to survive a direct attack."

"You think we'll find something wrong on Mars? I don't see it."

"This is about Seth and Chloe and the metalor stones. Mars is using the meteor stones to reinforce metal. You have seen it on Lunara."

"I have, but what does this have to do with Seth and Chloe?"

"Perhaps Seth and Chloe are infected with the meteor stone dust. Seth is powerful and—"

"Your ideas seem farfetched, Parker," Eamonn said. "I suspect you have no evidence except the rumors about them, and tales of them being empowered by meteor dust are good for fiction. Why has no one else been infected by the dust?"

"They are special," Parker said with a bit of annoyance.

"You might be right about the invaders trying to get the meteor stones, but they spared us because of Gwen, whether it is the wrath of the chancellor or the ransom she provides."

"It isn't a coincidence Mars Medical and this attack occurred at the same time. It is about Seth and Chloe, and we must protect them when we arrive on Mars."

"We'll have to see the situation on Mars first, but you overestimate the value in the rumors you hear about those two."

Parker was confused about why Eamonn couldn't see that Seth and Chloe were involved. It was so clear to him, and his theory about the metalor changing Seth and Chloe seemed plausible to him. But Eamonn made a good point, that no one else had ever been infected with the special abilities. What did make them special? He couldn't wait to get to Mars. He knew the answers lay there. "Captain, we'll be arriving on Mars in one day," he said.

Eamonn rose to his feet with a hop. "Excellent, we can start scanning the communication frequencies now. We might be able to pick up something locally."

Parker straightened his posture. "Gladly, any word at this point is welcome."

"Not if your ideas are right. Mars might be a dangerous place."

"Don't fuel my paranoia, sir."

They both laughed.

"Understood," the captain said, placing his hand on Parker's shoulder. "But don't worry, Mars is safe."

The bridge of the _Protector_ was silent. With earphones on, Gwen and Seth concentrated on scanning different frequencies for any communications from the relays. Roche sat idly in the pilot's chair, occasionally checking the monitoring screen for any malfunctions.

Eamonn, confused and tired, studied the relay diagnostic logs from the _Protector's_ database, but this turned out to be a waste of time as they were already out of date. He stood and smacked his fist against the top of the hull. The sound of the thud ended the long silence. "Jinx, all the relays are shut down."

"Yes," Seth replied. "That is the case. Gwen and I have found nothing with these scans."

Eamonn sighed. "Until we reach Mars, we should give up. They will be in short-way communication range in the next hour or so. Not thinking might be good for us."

Roche jerked his head around. "What if we tried to use the old FSTAT system? The early developers of the colonies used those relays before the Black Widow was up and running."

Eamonn rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger. "The FSTAT system still might be up."

"FSTAT?" Seth questioned.

"Before we were able to relay instantaneous communications, the early settlers and Lunara communicated using standard radio. The same way your CommUns work to communicate while on Lunara. The FSTAT system is how the information was relayed to combat the packet loss of solar flares and other astronomical interference. We should be able to log in." He rushed over to Seth's terminal and called up the FSTAT system log in code. "The _Protector_ is logging in now," he said, looking at the screen. "This is a good sign. We just made a connection."

"Will anyone be listening? These are old systems," Gwen asked.

"No one at the communications department or Mars Central is listening anymore. However, the ART SET program took over the relays after shutting down."

"ART SET?"

Eamonn rubbed the side of his head. "Astronomy Radio Telescope and the Search for Extraterrestrials program. They are a quasi-scientific group formed after we arrived on Mars. Their mission is to explore Mars and search deep space for signs of extraterrestrials and other astronomical wonders."

"I got a connection to the FSTAT frequencies," Gwen said. "Let me scan for activity." She adjusted the dials one by one while Eamonn and Seth used their headsets to locate any communications. After some time during which nothing could be heard, they were about to give up.

"Wait, go back," Seth said.

"Where? The computer didn't read anything," Gwen said.

"Move back, slowly," Seth instructed as she turned the dial one frequency at a time. "Stop there. Listen."

Gwen and Eamonn looked at each other. Static filled the earpiece.

"Put the frequency up on the display screen," Seth said.

Gwen keyed in the command on her console, and the radio waves zigzagged on the screen.

Seth waved his hand at the screen. "Clear out all the static between the apexes of all the wavelengths. Put the results on the speakers. Let's have a listen."

The sound filled the bridge with an eerie tone. "Bee . . . dee dee . . . dee bee . . . dee bee . . . dee." The same sounds were repeated in different cycles throughout the transmission.

"I don't like the sound of that at all." The hairs on Eamonn's neck stood. "Gwen, record this. That crackle is an encrypted transmission. Have the computer try to break the code with a sample of the transmission. Keep recording, no matter what."

Seth sat up. "Scan the other frequencies for similar hidden transmissions. This might not be the only one."

An hour passed, but they discovered nothing from the transmission. The computer couldn't crack the code, and neither Eamonn nor Seth could figure out a pattern manually, either. Jan moved back into the pilot's chair, and Chloe decided to help Gwen scan an array of frequencies for other hidden transmissions. So far they had found two additional hidden ones.

Alerts buzzed into Gwen's headset. She turned on the communication channel. "Sir, I'm receiving a transmission . . . from Mars."

"Put it on the main speaker," Eamonn ordered.

"Lunara mining ship, _Protector_ , this is Chancellor Damon Arwell of the Zephyrian government. Do you receive this transmission?"

"Zephyrian government. This is the Lunara mining ship, _Protector_. We receive you."

"Finally. We have been trying to contact you since you came into our range."

"Father, this is Gwen. We are all healthy here, but something terrible happened on Lunara. We'll need your assistance with a landing pad so we can talk to you right away."

"Oh, thank the luck, Gwen, you are all right. The attack is all we are talking about on Mars. I worried you were a casualty."

"How did Mars hear of the attack?" Eamonn cut in. "We can't transmit to anyone on long range. No one can transmit to Lunara."

"Captain Dalton. First, I thank you for saving my daughter from the invasion at Lunara Colony. I'm forever in your debt."

"Don't worry about any debts, but I'm curious how Mars knows about the invasion."

"I'll discuss in more detail when you arrive. But the short version, the Aethpisian government intercepted a communications from a renegade force a few days ago. We sent a squadron of ships to follow the attacking force."

That struck Eamonn as odd; they hadn't caught any squadron of ships on radar during their journey to Mars. He wondered if the _Protector's_ radar problems were related. "How do you know of your success? The invasion force was of significant size."

"Minister Cortez is confident we took back the colony. With the communications down, we are unsure of the exact details of the battle as of yet. We only get short bursts of info through our government channels."

Jan blurted out, "What about Ty Falloom? Is he all right?"

"You will excuse my pilot," Eamonn said. "Ty Falloom is her husband." He eyed Jan as if he understood why she spoke out, but then he narrowed his eyes to tell her not to speak again.

"No information has come about survivors or casualties, but we expect it soon. My best are working on the communications array, which was also damaged during the small skirmish on Mars."

"Someone attacked Mars?"

"Yes, our orbital communications array and the Mars Central Communications building were targeted. All coordinated with the invasion of Lunara."

"This is a larger attack than we thought. Any suspects?"

"No one has claimed responsibility yet, but our intelligence is gathering leads. We should discuss further details in a more secure manner."

"I understand."

"Check your ship messages. My team sent priority clearance to land at Trivium Port. We will see you shortly," the chancellor said.

"I look forward to meeting the minister, and you, Chancellor. _Protector_ out."

Eamonn wondered why Mars had kept Lunara unaware of the invasion force, although he knew that Lunara's concerns didn't matter to Mars. Still, it was odd. The chancellor seemed more concerned with Gwen's safety and pleasantries than with the attacks on Lunara.

But maybe he was overanalyzing the situation. Lunara was safe again. The return to Mars wouldn't be so stressful in the end, and perhaps he could finally close his regretful chapter with Madelyn. It had nagged him for far too long.
Part II

Chapter 10

Dawn glowed on the red planet of Mars.

On approach into the thin atmosphere, Eamonn ordered Jan to pass through Phobos and Deimos, the two small moons orbiting Mars, and come into range of the reconstruction efforts to the communications array. A procession of ships, all marked with Mars Central emblems, streamed to and from the array like a tether line to the surface. The urgency and the grandness of the repairs gave the crew hope for Lunara. If the Lunara rescue mission was half as amazing, Lunara should be back under control, which would mean they had come to Mars on a fool's errand.

On entry, the atmosphere glowed pink in the early morning sun, as if Mars were extending them an odd invitation. Jan guided the _Protector_ around the clouds, keeping a fair distance from the local space traffic. Eamonn ordered her underneath the final layer, and the Martian surface displayed for the first time in full detail. Multiple shades of red beamed up into the cockpit from the Martian surface: from the dark rusty red of the rocky south to the lighter reds of the equatorial dunes. The massive Martian chasmata, deep elongated depressions, became visible and no longer appeared as shadowy blotches on viewscreen. Instead, the varying red channels exhibited no bottom. To their port side, the longest of all the chasmata, Valles Marineris, extended over one-fourth of the planet. Olympus Mons, towering in the distance, dominated the landscape, stretching some twenty-four kilometers above the surface and marking the _Protector's_ route to Trivium Port.

Eamonn chewed his lower lip as the _Protector_ veered to avoid the oncoming giant mons and slowed as it came to the Lomarett Corridor—short lowlands nestled between Olympus to the north and three lesser mons, Ascraeus, Pavonis, and Assay, to the south. He had thought about Madelyn Green quite a bit since he knew he was coming back to Mars, and when the chancellor told them everything was safe, his curiosity about seeing her had turned almost into an obsession. He hadn't stopped thinking about her. He wanted to rectify what he did to her and bring her back to Lunara.

After the _Protector_ soared through the corridor into Elysium Planitia, he smiled as the alien quality of the Martian surface disappeared. Northward lay the planitias, flat lands with low elevation. The red surface of the Martian soil mixed with the green algae of the oxygen farms created the illusion of forests in the distance. A habitable, life-rich Mars intoxicated him; hope coursed through him for the future of humanity.

Up close, the farms lay in rows, extending in strips one hundred meters long, all aligned in perfect symmetry. Each strip waved gently as the wind caught the pool of green algae. The algae converted the carbon dioxide into energy for reproduction, and the byproduct of this photosynthesis was oxygen, which over decades would saturate the atmosphere and enable humans to breathe without aid. Stretching over the planitias, the farms, in only two hundred years, had created a situation in which people only had to wear a breathing mask on the surface. The algae erased the need for a full body suit, and scientists expected that within the next two hundred years, someone would be taking the first unaided breath on the planet.

Eamonn recognized the lights from Trivium Port fanning across the horizon. Aethpis, the largest colony, faintly glowed to the northwest. The third and last major population on Mars, Zephyria, rested directly below the _Protector_. The Zephyrian colony consisted of five domes. Four smaller domes surrounded one massive dome in the center, with eight large towers encircling the entire complex. Just like the oxygen farms, each building was positioned to create a perfect symmetry. The rail track, the only irregularity to the symmetry, extended from the colony toward the horizon to Trivium Port.

Eamonn leaned in his captain's chair as Jan adjusted course to follow the tracks. They were almost there.

Five minutes later, Trivium Port shone though the bridge's window, causing him to squint. The enormous port's structure nestled in the side of the continuous cliff separating the southern hemisphere, with innumerable boulders and highlands, from the northern hemisphere's low-lying planitias. This location along the cliffs provided Trivium Port shelter from the violent windstorms, elevation for the spaceships on takeoff, and, in the past, a strategic advantage over the raiders. With the raiders now gone, the six main landing platforms stretched out along the last of the planitia floor, bordering the vast collection of oxygen farms.

"Lunara mining ship, _Protector_ ," a voice called over the radio. You are cleared to land on platform seven. Coordinates are transferring."

"I read you, preparing now," Eamonn replied.

High up on the large superstructure, a small platform jutted out the side of the cliff. Two giant spotlights turned on them, guiding their approach. He pointed, but Jan was already firing the repulse engines.

After a quick maneuver to adjust the ship's orientation to the cliff, she gently landed the _Protector_ on the pad with a slight jolt as the landing gear fought back.

Eamonn closed his eyes for a long moment. A single face captured his mind. Madelyn Green. He would make her proud this time.

The crew prepared to depart as a landing party assembled near the ship. Of their party, only Gwen was accustomed to such a regal welcome. She made sure she pulled her shoulders back and stood erect. Through the portal, diplomats and security guards from the Zephyrian and Aethpisian delegations stood in formation. Gwen's father and Minister Cortez were dressed in their formal suits, which were completely buttoned up, with crisp, clean lines. Diplomat Sarah Cortez, who was Gwen's equal, being the minister's daughter, wore a light blue tunic and dress skirt, cut tight against her torso and wrapped around her neck down to her waist. The skirt ended at upper thigh level, and below that she wore dressy thermo pants. It was a practical and yet sophisticated outfit usually worn by Aethpisian female diplomats. Sarah somehow always made Martian practicality look more elegant.

Consul Peter Reilly, Consul Marcus Black, and several mayors from Zephyria— James Arton, Robert Arbuckle, and Jennet Lang—stood in suits, along with numerous others Gwen did not recognize. She concluded from their dull grayish-red attire that they were aides. She looked all about for the one person she wished to see the most, and she found her a moment later, off to the side—her best friend, Samantha Burns.

She had met Samantha, one of her father's top aides, at the Zephyrian Academy, where they had both learned all about diplomacy and how to run a colony. When she left for Lunara, she regretted leaving Samantha behind.

Gwen felt eager. She fingered the ramp control pad, knowing that when the landing lights turned green, she would be the one leading the group out to greet the Martian delegation. Truly, Mars was her home. As soon as she passed through the hatchway, she, the diplomatic ambassador of Zephyria Colony, was the top official from Lunara. She even outranked Captain Eamonn Dalton. Her role as diplomat superseded her standing as a member of the crew, and with that responsibility, she needed to convey what had happened on Lunara and the urgency of bringing the attackers to justice. The pressure that was on her made her tense her shoulders.

The light turned green, and she opened the hatch and walked down the gangplank from the _Protector_. When her foot first hit the platform, the first stride she had taken on Mars in almost two years meant more to her than anyone could have discerned from her rigid posture. A giddiness rushed through her, to her surprise. She hadn't been expecting the joy of her return to overwhelm her.

Eamonn and Seth followed behind her as she walked toward the waiting group. As they took a turn, Gwen saw Seth adjust his breathing mask several times. Gwen realized that after fifteen years, he had forgotten how cumbersome the mask was against his face, and the straps at the base of his neck would irritate him for a few days until he became comfortable with it again.

As she came up to the welcoming committee, her dirty, sweat-stained Lunaran uniform made her self-conscious, but she held her poise. She always could. Her Zephyrian pseudo-royal status slowly came back into her awareness, and her father's expectations pushed into the forefront of her mind. She had hidden those expectations from her mind for almost two years.

Her father eyed her attire with his condescending stare that irritated her. She wasn't one of his aides. None of the crew had brought a change of clothes when they left Lunara, and the dry shower didn't provide the lasting freshness that was desirable for such an occasion.

She nodded to him, soothing his disapproval. She could hear Seth's boots shuffling up behind her.

Seth's shoulders tightened. The wind against his face whispered all the terrible memories of Mars. Mars wrapped around him like a boa constrictor; the barren nothingness of the rock formations along the surface lay in wait, the harsh atmosphere tightened around his throat, and the politicians extended their fangs that were dripping with reassuring words intertwined with deceit.

As he stood there, trying to act as dignified as possible, he decided that he shouldn't be in this group, but as lead pilot of the starwings, he was technically third in command. Ty would have told him, "Duty calls." He never liked these affairs, but it was too late now. Eamonn had ordered Jan to stay aboard and make sure no one tampered with the _Protector_ or any of the data logs until the captain had a firm understanding of what had happened. So Seth filled out the delegation from Lunara.

He turned toward Gwen, obeying her orders to remain still until she introduced the group. The wind made her brown hair wave elegantly, and as she stepped forward, her face turned into a noble silhouette against the Martian sunset. She was Princess of Mars, and for the first time, he witnessed her royal status.

A small man, dressed in a white suit jacket filled with pendants and other decorations, greeted them in a dignified voice.

"Welcome to Mars, I am Minister Kaelin Cortez, minister of Aethpis Colony. This is my daughter Sarah Cortez and one of my top diplomats."

He shook their hands firmly.

Seth observed the man's worn face speckled with age spots, something he didn't expect in a man who in other respects looked about the same age as Ty _. If Ty could see this minister, he wouldn't grumble about his age,_ Seth thought.

"Welcome to Mars," Sarah said and bowed. "I hope to make your stay as pleasant as possible."

Sarah was a cordial-looking woman with a polished smile. Her olive skin was set against dark hair.

"Thank you. I am Eamonn Dalton, captain of the _Protector_ and head of the lunar mining operations." Eamonn offered his own bow to the woman.

Seth had no doubt that Sarah Cortez had received the same training in diplomacy that Gwen had. Sarah's poise made him feel as if he was flailing his arms as he stepped forward and greeted her.

Gwen moved up to introduce her father to her colleagues. The chancellor had been waiting patiently behind the minister. The flags of Zephyria, a simple blue and gray vertical stripe, flapped in the wind to his side. "This is my father, Chancellor Damon Arwell of Zephyria, and I think everyone knows me here. These are my crewmen, Captain Eamonn Dalton and starwing pilot Seth Smith."

They all exchanged greetings.

"And this is Samantha Burns," Gwen said to her colleagues. "She is a diplomatic aide to my father and my best friend."

"You know it isn't proper diplomacy to introduce someone with personal affections, Gwen," Samantha said.

"I might look the part, but I will never be a proper diplomat," Gwen countered.

But Seth knew she was wrong. Her face had gained poise the moment she stepped up to the committee. She displayed an elegance and grace that he had not seen during her time on Lunara. The change in her took Seth aback. It seemed that on Mars, something glowed within her and fueled her confidence. What did she find on Mars that was so appealing?

"I missed you," Samantha said with a welcoming smile. "We'll talk later." She gave Gwen a hug.

"Welcome back, Gwen," Chancellor Arwell said with a smirk. He turned to Eamonn. "I believe we met on the viewscreen. Come this way. I believe a tour is in order."

Gwen grabbed her father's arm. "Father, what about Lunara? Shouldn't we take some action right away? Why are we touring?"

"As I told you before, developments have progressed since we talked last time. Our communications with Lunara have been somewhat successful. The colony is back under our control. You can thank Minister Cortez and his security forces. We will talk more about it in the briefing. All is safe, I can assure you."

They all looked at each other with quick glances. His explanation was too perfect.

"If you had seen the force sent to Lunara, I don't think you would be so casual about 'somewhat successful' transmissions. You need to confirm it without any doubt," said Seth, glaring into the unwavering eyes of the chancellor. "We don't want to tour Mars. We want to talk with the people on Lunara and find out who did this to us."

"Mr. Smith, I can see you are upset. The debriefing is scheduled in one hour. The nonaligned colonies must be given time to travel and review the preliminary information before we can present this to you or anyone."

"What about Ty Falloom?" Seth said. "Did you speak with him when your fleet contacted you?"

"I have seen communications from him, personally. He is fine and back in control of the colony."

Seth stepped toward the chancellor. "Hold on a second. I don't know what you are trying to pull here, but we want to speak with him right away."

"Seth." Eamonn used his arm to push Seth back a full stride. "The chancellor gave us welcome news." He turned toward the delegation. "Our last few days within the ship fed our paranoia. You will excuse our zeal."

"It is understandable," the chancellor said. "But the minister and his forces took back Lunara, I can assure you. The reports are clear. Please, allow us to show you our hospitality before the debriefing begins."

"We would be honored," Eamonn said.

Seth set his teeth. He found it hard to believe that the rescue fleet had been successful this fast. "Someone should tell the crew Ty is safe."

"I'll escort them to the meeting," Sarah said, approaching the group. "I can guide anyone from your crew down as soon as the _Protector_ moves to the hangars."

"Thank you, Miss Cortez." Eamonn waved Seth to proceed to the elevator and turned with the group toward it.

Seth didn't move. His eye caught the terrain below the platform. He was back on Mars, the place that had taken his mother and Chloe's entire family. Was it still the same place as fifteen years ago? His gaze shifted toward the gangplank. Would Chloe be safe?

Hearing footsteps coming up behind him, he turned to find Gwen grabbing his hand. With a smile, she said, "Come on, silly. She is safe here."

"You are probably right," he murmured. "But I still have a bad feeling."

Everyone fit into the large elevator. Seth stared in wonder through the glass-bottomed floor. The tracks wound down the side of the cliff. The view out of the window overlooked the entire port; all six platforms sprawled along the ground, the maintenance hangars stacked in columns and dug into the side of the cliff, and the main dome that was their final destination looming downward.

"As you can see below, Trivium Port is very active. There is always something to do around here," Minister Cortez said, pointing to the farthest two platforms from the complex.

Stirred by the minister's voice, the whisk of diluted oxygen from the vents above tensed Seth's shoulders. He never liked the dirty air. Mars had outlawed it for most circumstances, but some still existed.

"Those two platforms are dedicated exclusively to ore shipments from the mines on the polar regions and Argyre Planitia, plus several other smaller mining facilities run by our governments. The closest is used for meteor stones. The rest are used for general traffic and private commercial businesses.

"The main complex, which is encased in a dome, is mixed with the same atmosphere as Earth. Trivium Port is a joint effort between the Aethpisian and Zephyrian peoples. A half a million people reside here while another million shuttle in and out of the station every day using the Superhub. Trains leaving on the hour can take you to either of the colonies before that hour is over, and gliding along the magnetic rails, your ride is smooth and easy."

"Mars has grown since I last visited," Eamonn said. "You should be commended for your work. The dome was only half built when I left."

"When were you last on Mars?" Minister Cortez asked.

"About five years ago. I used to run ice from the northern pole down to the oxygen farmers in this planitia."

"The unstable ice shields of the northern poles, and now you mine meteors on Lunara," Minister Cortez said. "You are a risky man, Captain Dalton. Very exciting."

"Atmospheric conversion is complete. You may take off your breathing masks," the elevator attendant announced to the group. "Prepare for departure."

Moving cautiously, as the rest of the crew had, Seth took his mask off and hooked it to his belt. He breathed in deeply and was relieved to find fresher oxygen than their masks had supplied. The elevator started with a jolt, eventually twisting downward along the cliff.

The group split off into smaller groups, and Eamonn and the minister engaged each other.

"I just want to say, thank you for helping Lunara," Eamonn said.

"Not a problem, the Aethpisian people are here to help."

"What is the atmosphere like now? The terraforming project is of interest to me."

"The scientists estimate it will take approximately two hundred years for it to be bearable without the masks. However, a mask's oxygen converting filter can last up to one month, a full two weeks longer than when you were last on Mars. As a result, we are able to move farther around Mars each day."

"Are the caves ready for tourists yet? The holotube mentioned something about that on our way in."

"The Trivium caves are one of our best attractions. Since we installed breathing muzzles on horses, you can ride in luxury," the minister boasted. "We also pride ourselves on the arts in Aethpis, and we have many museums and theaters. You should come and enjoy our hospitality."

Gwen nudged Seth, and he noticed the chancellor eyeing him.

"So how do you like Mars?" the chancellor asked.

Seth bristled. "When I was on Mars last, thieves and raiders controlled much of the territory away from the colonies, and politicians were in the pocket of many of the raider leaders. Old Zephyria was an unpleasant place for me. Gwen keeps saying Mars has changed, but I don't believe Mars will ever change."

"Frankly, Mars was on the path to destruction. Ten years ago, after the war ended, Pierre Cortez, Kaelin's father, split the government into two factions. Pierre didn't want one controlling body over the people. With two colonies, we can grow and expand independently, with checks and balances on one another. The colonists rallied, and we built this society."

"What motivates citizens to create the colonies?" Seth said. "No one does work without personal gain."

"Most obvious, each colonist works for the common goal of survival of the human species, but they also work for personal goals. Each hour of service earns social credits for living conditions and luxuries. More social credits move you up the ladder in the colony to better quarters, more variety of food, and other benefits. All people are cared for, and we do not leave anyone, pardon the expression, out in the cold."

Seth twitched in anger. That phrase, "We do not leave anyone out in the cold," struck a big nerve with him. He instantly flashed black to the nights he had spent with Chloe huddled against a heating coil in the vast, barren lands of Mars. He had survived many nights running from farm to farm.

"Are you okay?" the chancellor said.

"I'm fine. Please continue," Seth replied. "The oxygen mixtures are playing with me mind. My focus is sharpening, though. It's been fifteen years."

"I understand. As I was saying about the workers, no matter how little work they want to do. Almost everyone works because we share our resources, so making the colonies better is in everyone's interest."

"Father, Mars Medical came to examine Seth," Gwen said.

Seth's eyes darted to Gwen. he wanted to say, _Would you shut up?_ but instead, he tried to block the reflex that stiffened his body as anger surged through him. Hans Bauer was harassing him, and he didn't want it to become idle conversation. Gwen and Parker did a good job of blabbing about his situation to everyone on Lunara. The chancellor's role in the government made Seth uncomfortable, and talking about his concerns to a government official didn't seem smart—especially when millions of miles didn't seem to be enough to buffer him from Mars Medical.

"Chloe is on the _Protector_ , I guess," Chancellor Arwell said. "I read a brief report about your close relationship."

Seth bit his lip. He didn't understand how so many people knew about his personal life. Parker had been dead right when he said Mars invaded his privacy.

The elevator slowed to a stop. "The dome is completely breathable air," the attendant announced. "Your breathing masks won't be needed. Have a nice day."

"Damon, why don't you take Mr. Smith through the marketplace?" said the minister. "I will lead Captain Dalton through the rock formations on the cliff side of the port. We can reconvene later."

"Very well, the market should be busy now. A shipment of minerals arrived from the Argyre Mining Colony this morning," the chancellor replied, looking over at Seth, Gwen, and Samantha.

"Oh, Seth." Gwen pulled on his hand. "You are in for a treat. The tradesmen are fun to watch as they barter. It's almost a sport."

Eamonn and the minister headed toward the cliff side of the structure, while Seth, Gwen, Samantha, and Chancellor Arwell turned in the opposite direction.

After moving out of the elevator, Seth stood beside the base of the dome and looked up. The dome reached high into the cliff's face. So high, in fact, that he had the sensation that it was about to fall on him, and this caused him to take a few steps back. It was the enormous size of the dome that created the illusionary effect. Once he got used to that, he was impressed by the wonderful artistry of the dome. Studying the hexagonal pattern of the domed surface, he estimated that it had taken thousands of panes to fill the whole dome.

"Aren't you worried it will crack?" he quizzed the chancellor. "It's just glass."

"Not at all, the glass is made from a metalor polymer, which is one million times stronger than regular glass."

"This makes the dome strong, able to outlast many future generations," Samantha added.

"Metalor?" Seth inquired. "From the meteor stones?" Even though he mined the stones, he knew little of the technological advancements that the dust produced—an ignorance born out of his obsession to avoid all things Mars.

"Metalor is the simple name we have given to any substance infused with a meteor's special element. The new hangar on Lunara has it. You can catch a feature on this evening's news. We are beginning to introduce it to the general public." The chancellor waved them along. "Let's move quickly; we shall not let the minister beat us across the complex."

Walking into the heart of the marketplace, Seth became claustrophobic, even in such a large dome; he had not been around so many people. Gwen tugged on his arm to keep him moving.

The market was chaotic, with people running around in all directions. Flatbeds and pull wagons contained different types of goods coming from places he would never guess. "How is this all made sense of?" he asked Samantha.

"After the vendors buy the goods, they sort and process the raw materials and sell them to the consumer. The perishable goods are shipped directly to the sellers. Most of the trades involve bartering," Samantha said. "We limit the amount of credits per transaction to encourage the bartering process. This limits the greed of the corporations."

She pointed toward a group of men who were in a heated exchange with a man in yellow standing between them. "See those men over there? The man in yellow is a market controller. They organize the trading floor and mediate all disputes on site. Look how the group of men stop and listen to the controller. They are respected, and we rarely get complaints about their judgments."

She tugged his arm. "That is how this turns into a sport. The men trade counteroffers back and forth and work each other for the better deal. They take pride in thinking they outwitted their opponent and the controller."

"Pierre Cortez created this government?" said Seth. "This system of trade?"

"He didn't create the government," the chancellor said, raising his voice over the noise of the market. "He created the vision for the government. No one man can force his ideals on an entire population and sustain those ideals without revolt. He built a platform for us to stand united on. We can express our own ideas, we all have the opportunity to succeed, and we leave no one behind suffering."

Many people close by overheard Chancellor Arwell's words and started to give a faint cheer. The chancellor waved his hand in recognition of the crowd's gesture.

Seth wondered if politicians ever stopped to look at themselves in the mirror. He shook his head and moved along with the group.

"What happened to Pierre Cortez?"

"He died ten years ago in a rail accident," Samantha replied. "The accident was suspicious because the crash occurred on a stable part of the track, and they found no shuttle malfunctions. A lot of questions were raised about Kaelin's involvement. Surely you heard about it in school?"

"I try to avoid Mars discussions," Seth said firmly. "Haven't been back in a number of years and haven't cared to come back."

"Martian blinders?" Samantha said.

"I can ignore Mars history as well as Martian people can ignore Earth history," Seth retorted.

"I don't like how those rumors get out of control," Gwen said coolly, wanting to cut off further angry words from him. "Kaelin is a good man. He has done a lot for Mars. Just before I left for Lunara, I worked with him on a number of charities and social programs."

Seth took Gwen's interruption as a gentle correction rather than a slight. She was right in stopping him from responding with the fury he felt. His anger was misguided, to say the least. "Why would they think Kaelin killed his father?" he asked.

"Many believe he is controlling and temperamental," Gwen explained. "He was next in line to run the government and hated the idea of the new system. He wanted to carry the tradition of the Cortez family in control of Mars."

"Instead," Samantha said, "He accepted the leadership of his home colony. The chancellor, who was vice minister at the time, was given the Zephyrian government."

"This arrangement is only a ten-year project," the chancellor added. "We were to set the wheels in motion. In the coming months, the population will vote on the next leaders. Our first vote on Mars."

"Are you running?" Seth said, as he collided with another person along the walkway. He had never seen so many people.

"No, Kaelin and I will be ineligible. I am aging, and I am partly relieved to give up the post. Kaelin is pushing for an exception in his case. He is still young and has a keen intellect for government. Whether he will be successful or not, I do not know."

"We must move along, Chancellor," Samantha said. "I am afraid the minister beat us. He is signaling." She pointed toward the minister and escorted the chancellor away.

Seth lingered a few steps behind so he could catch a loud discussion between two traders.

"I will give you forty tons of iron for your one ton of soybeans." The one trader was countering the original offer of fifty tons.

"Are you crazy?" the shorter of the two traders replied hastily. "I bend down anywhere and find iron on this planet. Soybeans take a lot of overhead and care."

"But how are you going to process the ore into strips? These are fully processed."

"Processed, you say . . . how about forty tons of iron and a fifty-credit chip for the Trivium Port dining restaurant for my half ton of soybeans? My wedding anniversary is coming up."

"A thirty-dollar credit chip and we have a deal."

"Deal."

They turned to get their trading contract datapads out of their respective vehicles and smiled with satisfaction, both thinking they had out-traded the other. Seth decided he favored the dealer getting the soybeans. Mars always had more iron, but food was rare and in greater demand.

"I told you the deals are entertaining," Gwen whispered. She grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. She looked long into his eyes.

"Gwen, what are you doing? We can't . . . don't embrace like that. What about Chloe?" He tried to pull back his hand.

She grabbed him with both of her hands.

He couldn't help but stare into her wide green eyes. Her Martian-born confidence enthralled him.

"I have longed for you ever since I met you," she said. "Now I am back on Mars, I am more confident with myself."

"I see it. But I'm confused. My emotions are mixed together, and I can't seem to set my feet straight."

"I want to help you through your pain. I can show you that Mars has changed. Please don't deny me."

"I . . . I don't know what to say, Gwen. We can talk about Mars later but only as friends. I am destined for Chloe. The return to Mars is confusing you . . . and me. It is a passing crush." Seth was trying to spare her feelings. "We must get to the meeting now."

Gwen set her teeth. With a quick pivot, she stormed away.

He looked down at his feet, hoping he had not lost a friend. _What was I supposed to do? Why was Gwen so forward?_

The sound of screams and magnetic brakes rumbling made him twist his head toward where Gwen had just gone. A man's body lay on the ground in front of a cargo trailer. Seth looked all around for Gwen and with relief spotted her standing to the back.

Above her, a cargo bale teetered, about to fall.

"Gwen, look out," he yelled, dashing to save her.

His world slowed; the crowd's gasps lowered to a basso tone, long and droning; the cargo bale floated like a feather downward; and Gwen's arms waved in a blur as she attempted to shield herself. He drove his legs with a surge and propelled himself toward Gwen. The bale continued to fall, slowly yet steadily downward, and oddly, he shot through the air many times faster.

With a long reach, he made up meters in a matter of moments and batted the bale away from her head. It rattled along the ground without harming anyone.

He tumbled down with Gwen in his arms.

With a jerk, time returned to normal speed for Seth; voices from the crowd rang out in high-pitched tones, and the blur from the movement of people around him sharpened. Disoriented, he rolled his head from side to side, trying to make sense of the sudden honing of his senses. "What happened?"

"You saved me!" Gwen kissed him on the lips. Her arms squeezed around his neck and surprisingly, his arms were around her.

The bale! Gwen's life! Reality rushed in on him, and he drew back to avoid the kiss. "Are you all right, Gwen?"

"Yes, I am. You are amazing." She tried to kiss him again, but he placed his hand on her thin lips and shook his head.

"The world went so slow for a second, like what athletes describe when they make a great play."

"I don't watch sports."

Before he could say any more, a crowd gathered, murmuring about the accident. A voice bellowed from the top of the trailer. "Sorry, the truck stopped instantly, and I was thrown toward the bale."

Seth pulled Gwen to her feet, dusted himself off, and glared at the man. "It's okay . . . no one was hurt in the end. I wouldn't stack so many bales on the trailer though." He looked to the front of the trailer. "How is the person who fell?"

"He's all right. He fell over his own cargo," someone from the crowd shouted.

"Excellent. No one was injured."

Chancellor Arwell hurried over to Gwen.

"I am fine, Father," she said. "Let's continue to the meeting."

"Yes. Let's hurry," the chancellor said.

Gwen gave Seth a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Sam, Father, run ahead. I need to talk to Seth before the meeting."

The crowd dispersed. Samantha and the chancellor walked away, leaving Seth alone with Gwen.

"Please don't tell Chloe what I have done," Gwen said. "I couldn't have her hate me. This is an emotional return for me. My father has expectations, and so does Samantha in a different way."

"Chloe will remain your friend. Nothing happened, but I'll keep quiet."

"I will, too," she said, frowning. He put his hand on her shoulder, and they made their way toward the meeting.
Chapter 11

"You almost have it, Roche," Parker said from inside the hangar bay in the lower reaches of Trivium Port. He handed Roche the last bolt that held the sonic cannon into the place under the portside wing. He wanted to prepare the _Protector_ for their next encounter with the invaders. He and Roche had already installed a turret gun on the front of the ship and another sonic cannon under the starboard-side wing.

Roche insisted on the same drop bombs and tracers for the rear of the ship, and he didn't object. It just took them some time to calibrate it just right. They had spent the better part of the last three hours on the repairs.

"And where did you get all this?" Jan said as she moved up behind Parker.

Parker jumped.

"Why are you so edgy?" She grabbed him by the shoulders and jostled him around. "This is your home port."

He shrugged her off. "Despite the chancellor's reassurances, I'm skeptical of everyone's motives around here."

"The captain is okay with it," Roche said, jumping down beside them.

"The captain is distracted." Parker looked up at the cannon, which Roche had fastened correctly. "He doesn't want anything to disturb his return to Mars, so he is accepting the easy explanations."

"He wasn't himself on the trip in," Jan said. "I spoke with him on several occasions, and he didn't seem to want to discuss any alternatives about what might have happened. He insisted this was an isolated incident, and since Gwen was safe now, the crew was out of danger."

Parker turned toward her. "You don't believe him, do you?"

"No, I don't. Before we go to Aethpis for our reception with Sarah Cortez, I want to speak with some friends. I hope to find out some more information about what happened on Mars's end. How reliable is the information they are feeding us? And how long will the transmissions to Lunara be down?"

"The transmissions will be down for a few days. Will Dasher, the person who connected me with the weapons systems, told me the array is damaged more than the media was told."

"Really? How reliable is he?"

"We go back to my military days. He wouldn't lie to me, not a squad-mate from my training days."

"Good enough." Jan nodded. "Can you believe how much Mars has changed? I haven't been back in ten years, just after war ended."

"I haven't been back in five years," Parker said. "Trivium is bustling with people. Did you see how many kids were running around?"

"The postwar baby boom," Jan replied. "They said that a third of the population on Mars is under ten years old. And another quarter is under twenty-five. Like Seth, Chloe, and Gwen."

"A third." Parker smiled. "That is about the same number of people originally on Mars. Aethpis and Zephyria had two hundred thousand people each in their life pods if I recall my history."

"Yes," Roche said. "And another hundred thousand in the smaller colonies. Four hundred and ten original outer colonies started, but eventually most combined into Aethpis, Trivium, and Zephyria."

Parker and Jan looked at him in amazement.

"You know that?" Parker said. "I thought you were as bad as Seth about Mars."

"I don't hate Mars, and sorry, Jan, but I'm not insane like Seth to purposely avoid a major part of humanity."

Jan nodded. "Seth's eyes are being forced open now, so I hope he can handle it."

"He will," Parker said. "The Principles of Man are being enforced now. He has nothing to fear from the planet. It is Mars Medical that concerns me."

Roche added. "Did you know Jonathan Norse set up the Principles of Man when the two colonies were introduced ten years into colonization?"

Parker rolled his eyes. "Stop with the history books."

Jan laughed. "To think it took ten years for humans to spread enough across Mars for the two major colonies to meet."

"And they are only a two-hour train ride from each other," Parker said. "I always hated Mars's history before breathing masks were viable. It was so depressing."

"A suit on Mars does seem constricting." Jan leaned her pear-shaped hips against the landing strut.

"Lunara is depressing and constricting to you guys?" Roche cocked his head at Jan. "All I know is environment suits outside of a colony."

"Lunara is different," Parker said. "It isn't on Mars. And why would anyone want to run around on the moon? Is there anything more boring than the moon's endless powdery surface?"

Roche smirked. "Mars's planet-wide boulder collection."

"Oh, come on." Jan laughed. "The caves on Mars have revealed—"

"Hello?" a voice said from behind them.

Parker tensed. He wasn't expecting anyone, and the hangar was restricted to Lunara personnel only. He turned around.

A small man, dressed in crisply cut and pressed coveralls, walked up to them.

"Who are you?" asked Parker.

"I work in the port, and I heard the mighty _Protector_ was here. I wanted to come see it."

"We aren't giving tours," Parker snapped back.

"I heard you made it from Earth in less than four days. That is pushing the quickdrives pretty well."

"And how would you know we came in less than four days? Who are you?"

"Darid Ravel. Just came over the news. Everyone is talking about the invasion of Lunara. What was it like?" Ravel swept his eyes across the hangar, around and around, as if he was trying to find something.

Jan snorted.

Parker didn't like it either. He wasn't going to talk about the invasion to some random worker. "The ship is in good shape. Is there something else you wanted besides wanting to gawk at us and the ship?"

"Are Seth and Chloe here?" Ravel asked. "The starwing pilots. I would enjoy meeting them."

Parker felt a pang of frustration come over him. Of all the times for an admirer to come into the hangar, it had to be now. It struck him that the man asked about Seth and Chloe because no one asked about them on Lunara. Not once had a freighter pilot wanted to meet them. People heard the rumors, shrugged them off, and moved on. "They aren't here, and you should leave now," he said. "This is Lunaran space for the time being."

"I just want to meet them," Ravel insisted. He moved toward the gangway that led into the ship.

Both Roche and Parker leapt to the side and cut the man off.

"Get out!" Parker said through clenched teeth.

"Fine," Ravel said with a fake laugh. "You guys from Lunara sure know how to welcome a guy."

With that, he turned and left the hangar.

Parker narrowed his eyes. His gut told him something was wrong. "Come on, Roche. We're following him." Parker turned to Jan. "Lock the hangar when you leave. Roche and I will be gone for a bit."

"Okay," Jan said. "But you have to come to the reception. I don't want to be stuck with a grumpy captain."

"We'll be there. I want to talk to Eamonn on the ride in." Parker dashed to the hangar door and looked out both ways. "Roche, hurry. I see him hustling away in the distance. Come on."

Roche grabbed his jacket, and they hurried down the corridor after Ravel.

In one of the many corridors leading to the marketplace of Trivium Port, Parker and Roche edged around the corner and saw Darid Ravel exiting the public bathroom two minutes after he had entered it. He had changed his coveralls for a pair of thermopants and a light jacket, which wouldn't have been surprising if the man was carrying a bag or satchel. But his hands were empty, which meant he had ditched the coveralls.

"Why would a man who works in the port throw away a pair of perfectly good coveralls?" Roche uttered Parker's exact thought.

"They were a little too clean. I don't like this," Parker whispered to Roche. "A man in a costume asking questions can't be a good thing."

"Looks like it. Who is this guy?"

"Let's keep on him and find out."

They pushed their way through the busy market area of the port and down a series of stairs to the civilian hangar bays. They had no trouble tailing the man the entire way, as the traffic was thick enough to hide them.

Ravel entered a private hangar bay, forcing Parker and Roche to halt outside and linger.

"He's prepping his ship for takeoff," Roche said. "What should we do?"

Parker was aware of the problem they faced. "He could be using the hangar to trap us. The question is, do we want to trip it?"

"I'm game for anything," Roche said. "Do Martians typically carry weapons?"

"No," he said. "But this guy isn't a typical Martian. He'll have a sonic pistol in his jacket."

"Who do you think he is?"

"I don't know," Parker said. "He might work for Mars Medical. He was asking about Seth and Chloe."

Roche let out a sigh. "You want it to be Mars Medical, and if he hadn't thrown away his coverall, I would think you were paranoid."

"Perhaps I am. Eamonn seems to think so." Parker edged closer to the open hangar door. He saw no movement and heard nothing. The sour smell of xenon fuel saturated much of the air on these levels, so he had a hard time pinpointing whether the man was fueling his craft or not.

"Eamonn has a lot on his mind," said Roche as he leaned against the wall.

Parker reached to his side and pulled out his cantina. He took a large gulp of algae water, savored the sweet taste until it turned bitter, and swallowed. "Maybe so, but did you notice how this man Ravel didn't ask about Gwen when he was poking around?"

"So?"

"He wanted Seth and Chloe. Eamonn insists that Gwen is the target, but she isn't."

"Gwen is pretty famous on Mars. Her return has been plastered all over the newscasts since our return."

"So?"

"So, she has been parading around Zephyria. He wouldn't ask about her since everyone knows where she is."

"So why did he come to the hangar if Gwen is the target?"

"Perhaps to get information on when she will return."

Parker shook his head. "Call it a hunch, but his interest was entirely on Seth and Chloe."

"So you are Chloe now? Sensing his motives and feelings?"

"No." A stab of anger irked Parker for a moment. He didn't know why, but making light of Chloe at this moment didn't seem like the right thing to do. His friends were targets and in serious trouble.

Roche looked up and down the corridor. "Where are we, anyways?"

"The private hangar bays. I worked here as a kid, running parts between the hangars. Got to know it fairly well. Ships arrive in Trivium Port's three sections. The larger freighters park along the ground in front of the port, the taxis have complete access to the porches along the cliff face, and these hangars are for private yachts, starships, light freighters, and hovercars. They're built into the side of the cliff." Parker chewed on his lower lip. "He is currently within the hangars for the smaller of the yachts and the hovercars. One- to four-man ships."

"What about exits?"

"Just the main door and the hangar doors. We have him trapped."

"He could leave in the ship."

"Agreed. So let's take a risk." Parker moved to the door of the hangar and looked in.

Ravel stood on the far side. He looked up and stared right at Parker.

"Ravel," Parker said. "I came to apologize for my rude behavior."

"You knew where I was?" Ravel took several steps to his side and came close to the yacht resting on the hangar floor.

Parker gazed around the hangar. It was smallish with a plasma shield on the open end to allow the ships in and out. The far wall was the bare rock cut out of the port's cliff. The wall closer to the door contained a bank of terminals which chirped away, spitting out data.

Parker moved up to one of the terminals and glanced at it. The terminal showed the takeoff diagnostic sequence. Someone had initiated it only a minute before, and it could only have been Ravel. This had to be his ship.

Roche stayed near the entrance to prevent Ravel from running away.

"Where you headed?" Parker said.

"What do you care?" Ravel stayed behind the wing of the craft.

"You can care about the _Protector_. Yet we can't care about you?"

"Why are you hounding me? I just came to see the crew of the _Protector_ and admire you. I'm a simple worker."

"With access to a yacht," Parker said. "A pretty decent one, too."

"I'm borrowing it from a friend."

"You have all the answers." Parker moved closer to Ravel. The evasive talk pricked at his agitation more than he expected, and his patience started to wane. "Can I see inside?"

"After—"

Parker ducked under the wing and popped up in front of Ravel, who was now hemmed in between Parker and the ship.

Instantly, Ravel drew a sonic pistol and pointed it at him. The man's hands trembled terribly.

Parker backed away a half step but could tell Ravel was scared. He wondered if the man had ever held a gun before. He raised his hands in surrender and stepped forward. "I'm trying to be friendly with you."

"Get back," Ravel said in a shaky voice.

"No," Parker said, fiercely. With a quick slap, he knocked the gun out of Ravel's hand, and it rattled across the deck.

Ravel took a step toward the gun.

Expecting the move, Parker grabbed Ravel's collar, pulled him up, and pressed him against the ship. "What do you want with us? Were you a part of the invasion? Tell me!"

"I . . . I don't know what you are talking about," Ravel whimpered.

Parker pressed his forearm hard into Ravel's neck, cutting off his air. The man thrashed about, trying to break free, but he was not as strong as Parker and had no leverage.

"What do you want with Seth and Chloe?" Parker screamed.

The man moaned as he tried to breathe.

Parker pushed in harder, the man's refusal to tell the truth stoking his anger.

From the side, a large hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. Parker turned and found Roche standing there.

"Don't hurt him," Roche said. "There are too many cameras in the area for us to get tangled in another mess."

Parker let Ravel go. He gasped for breath and then sputtered, "I don't know what the problem with you guys is! Did the tragedy on Lunara send you into madness? I just wanted—"

"Shut up!" Roche and Parker said at the same time.

Parker shoved his finger toward the man. "Leave Seth and Chloe alone."

Roche pulled on his arm. Parker wanted to resist, but he had already done enough to warn Ravel. There wasn't much else he could do. The man had committed no crimes. Yet he didn't trust him, so he felt he had delivered a strong message, and Ravel might now think twice about hurting Seth and Chloe. He had also sent a warning to Ravel's bosses that the crew wasn't going to accept any further intrusion in their lives.
Chapter 12

Seth scanned the room, and judging by the remaining seats, almost all the local government leaders were in the briefing room: the mayors from the Zephyrian domes, the consuls from the Aethpisian city complexes, and even the representatives from the smaller, nonaligned colonies. Rumors filled the air with nervous chatter and fearful forecasts. In the center, a three-dimensional display screen projected the governmental symbols of both Zephyria and Aethpis.

He rocked forward in his seat, wanting to get up to find Chloe. She was supposed to come to the meeting and had been gone longer than he had expected. His head swiveled as he looked for her. Most of the officials from the colonies had taken their seats in the auditorium, and he wondered where she was. His eyes moved to the front, where the chancellor and the minister sat on opposite sides of the podium.

The lights lowered to signal the start of the briefing. Someone tapped him from behind, and he turned and saw Chloe, who sat down next to him.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"I will tell you later," she whispered.

Minister Kaelin Cortez signaled for attention with a series of raps against the top of the podium. The whispers in the room fell silent and waited for the minister's first words.

"As you all are aware," the minister announced, "Lunara Mining Colony was invaded four days ago. However, you are unaware that one week prior to this act, Aethpisian intelligence learned about the invasion force, and we moved quickly and silently to intercept them."

Seth sat up in his seat. He bit his lower lip hard. Mars saying it knew of the plot and didn't inform Lunara was akin to treason in his eyes. A simmering rage roiled through his body.

The murmur of voices—no one seemed willing to speak out in a clear voice—became louder. Many of the officials jeered from the back of the room. They were irked because they had had no prior knowledge of the event, but no one in the crowd had enough courage to step up to challenge the minister.

Seth looked at Eamonn, whose concern wasn't apparent yet; no emotion registered on his face. Seth shifted in his seat. If Eamonn didn't speak in the next two seconds, he would assault the entire Martian Council with more than words.

Chloe sensed his urge to rise to his feet. She placed her hand on the back of his forearm and shook her head.

Seth sank back into his chair.

Eamonn leaned toward his microphone. In a calm but firm tone, he said, "Why was Lunara kept ignorant of this information?"

The minister cleared his throat. "It was prudent to hold back our intelligence from Lunara. The invasion force may have intercepted our transmissions and taken extreme action. They are more barbaric than you might hope. They would rather destroy Lunara and fail."

The minister showed no signs of remorse about his decision. He didn't shrink under the podium or offer any apologetic gestures. He stood firm, as if he had known very well what the reaction would be.

Seth couldn't believe what he heard. They had endangered the people of Lunara on purpose without giving Lunara a chance to defend itself.

The minister continued. "We anticipated that our forces would intercept the invasion force before it reached Lunara. Unfortunately, solar flares delayed them."

The minister activated the three-dimensional screen and allowed it to play the sequence of events. "To the left, the flares increased our travel path by almost two-thirds of normal travel time from Mars to Lunara."

"And the intelligence you gathered on the invasion force?" Eamonn said, remaining calm. "There is no use in hiding that information now."

"The data is still classified," the minister said. "Aethpis is hesitant to disclose any intelligence until the communications are back up and other safety precautions are met."

The outer colony representatives shook their fists and yelled, but the Zephyrians and the Aethpisians remained behind their leaders.

"Order, we will have order!" the minister boomed over the microphone. The crowd, satisfied that they had delivered their message, settled down and listened once again.

"What about the communications relay? Who did that?" Eamonn pressed for some answers.

A steely-eyed man stepped forward. The minister announced him as Thomas Cross. Seth wasn't familiar with him, but Eamonn cringed on hearing his name.

Cross addressed them at the podium. "The relay was shut down five minutes before the Lunara attack. Please direct your attention to this graphic." A projection of Mars displayed. The graphic showed the two moons of Mars circling; the communications array was highlighted. "A coordinated attack was executed, one on the planet and one in orbit. In only a matter of minutes, they were both struck. An explosive device disabled the main processing core on the ground, located on top of Elysium Mons.

"While this happened, a shuttle containing explosives flew into the array network in orbit. It destroyed the alignment rings. We haven't been able to determine if the shuttle was piloted automatically or manually."

Eamonn shook his head. "With the relay down, how did you confirm control is restored to Lunara?"

"Confirmation from our sources with the colony. I can assure you that Ty Falloom is in command again. We also received a communication from him when we brought up the array for a short time. We can't hold a connection for long because our technicians are worried about a complete overload. They assure me the array will be operational within the next two days. We are working around the clock."

"May we listen to the transmission from Chief Falloom? Is it too much to ask for our minds to be put at ease, or does Mars Central believe it should be hidden from the people?"

"Of course, we will play it," Cross said. "The message is short and a little rough, but you can distinguish most of the words."

The screen flattened out into two dimensions, and Ty's face appeared. "This is Chief Ty Falloom of Lunara Col . . . Thanks to the government of Mars, we have successfully taken back . . . Lunara. We sustained a number of casualties . . . I hope the _Protector_ made its way to Mars . . . Eamonn, if . . . tell Jan 'I love her'."

The screen went blank, and the transmission ended. The crowd responded with subdued handclaps and hollers.

Gwen patted Eamonn on the back, and he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Seth held his relief inside, but Chloe felt it. She embraced him.

_Perhaps Lunara is safe again,_ Seth thought. Still, he would prefer to talk to Ty. Something still wasn't adding up in his mind.

"This concludes debriefing," the public address system announced to the room.

The dimmed lights in the auditorium were turned up, and the officials began to file out toward the back.

The minister moved over to their table. "I hope this calms your fears about Lunara."

"It does," Gwen said. "What will be done about the rebellious forces that invaded?"

"On Mars, they are scattered and hard to eliminate. We are doing our best to catch all attacks before they happen, and our success was spotless until this transgression. They are never this organized. We will provide all the help you need to rebuild the destroyed or damaged parts of Lunara. Supply ships are prepared."

Seth clenched his teeth. He had given Mars an honest opportunity to redeem itself. In the few hours he had been back on the planet, political promises had been broken. He felt betrayed again. How _can I protect Chloe in the midst of such disorder?_ "You said Mars was peaceful. What happened to all those words of progress we heard when we arrived here?"

The minister waved his hand with a sharp twist. "Mars is safe. I am not about to let a few bad seeds ruin what I have built."

Seth didn't want to hear a political answer. "A bomb and a shuttle packed with explosives. How can that be safe?"

"One incident will not overshadow an entire society," the minister shot back. "You saw the progress here. The nonaligned colonies have sustainable food and shelter for everyone. Mars wasn't always this way."

"Mars isn't aggressive enough in handling the rebellious factions," Seth replied.

"I promise you, we are considering—"

"Considering what?" Seth's eyes narrowed. "Considering that you stifle the people's wishes for peace?"

"No," the minister shot back. "Considering the fact that these factions hide amongst the peaceful members of the nonaligned colonies. The Principles of Man can't be used as a matter of convenience. We must follow the principles to ensure the people's freedom. Innocent people's rights and safety must be preserved."

"They aren't innocent. They harbor these people, they accept them into their society, and therefore they are a part of those factions on Mars that wish to disrupt peace. They are guilty. Obliterating them is the only sure way of guaranteeing peace."

The chancellor moved over to the table. "Mr. Smith, I assure you that you are perfectly safe on Mars. The Anniversary Gala will be held in the coming days. I invite you and your crew to stay and enjoy Mars."

Seth shook his head. A party was of no interest to him. "We are going back to Lunara. Ty Falloom will need our help."

"Until the communications array is enabled, a blockade exists for all ships. You can accept our hospitality or not. Either way, you are stuck on Mars."

"Seth is right," Gwen said. "The _Protector_ must return to Lunara as soon as possible."

"Gwendolyn," the chancellor said. "Safety concerns are the reason for the blockade on any ships flying into Lunaran territory."

Gwen stood tall. "As a representative of both Zephyria and a member of the _Protector_ , I must return, and I should be given special clearance."

"No one is above the blockade. You have to wait," the chancellor replied, his eyes flaring at his daughter's insolence.

Eamonn glared at Seth and Gwen, disapproving of their words. "After these last few stressful days, we welcome your invitation," he said. "This might be an opportunity for Seth to get over his problems and form an apology."

"We can have some fun on Mars," Chloe beamed in an attempt to cheer him up.

_How dare they?_ Seth thought. _All those eyes staring at me, trying to convince me that Mars is different._ "I am afraid I disagree," he said.

Seth turned and stalked out of the room.
Chapter 13

Gwen curled her legs up on the couch. Looking around Samantha's suite, she observed the many sculptures and paintings that decorated the walls. The ones of interest to her were of horses running along the Martian landscape, which were becoming quite popular. Samantha was no exception to the trends of the Zephyrian colony. Billowing rugs and furniture cut with hard angles filled out the room. All the latest fashion on Mars.

She moved to the bay window and looked over the entire Zephyrian colony. The grand dome dominated the view below, with the smaller domes sprawled around its base. She was in one of the eight towers that encircled the colony.

The trains darted around the colony, couriering thousands of people. The invasion of Lunara hadn't affected them. Aside from the increased hidden security, nothing had changed, and Gwen worried the attacks had gone unheard in the colonies. Mars didn't want to disturb the tranquil life. The raiders had vanished and metalor had improved their quality of life. Why agitate such delights?

Her father stressed complacency as an evil. She understood what he meant when she saw her colony now. She still didn't know how the invader had constructed the cruisers without anyone noticing. They were a few hundred feet long. Even if they had built them inside of one of the thousands of never-ending chasmata on Mars, surely someone saw something. But no one had.

Footsteps approached from behind. Samantha handed her a glass of champagne and moved back to the couch.

Gwen took a sip. Her taste buds, atrophied to such a depth in flavor, found it sweet and tangy. She had limited her luxuries since her transfer to Lunara. Algae paste and algae drinks were the staple of her diet. Two years ago, when she arrived on Lunara, her father ordered a private garden so she could grow her own vegetables, but she insisted on living as a Lunaran. She believed that true friendships were formed with people who lived in similar circumstances. She didn't want a privileged life. Being the "Princess of Mars" was hard enough.

She savored the last of the sweetness in her mouth and swallowed. "I love this suite. How did you ever secure an apartment in the Majestic Tower?"

"I do a lot for your father. He wanted me closer since I had been running over from Dome One. I guess he got tired of waiting for me."

"I am so proud of you. I remember when you thought my father didn't even know your name," she said, smiling. "Hmm, this champagne is real." She took the last mouthful and emptied the glass, then reached over to the table and poured another.

"Your father was kind enough to find a bottle for us. He said something about a special night for his two favorite girls. He can be a softy with you sometimes." Samantha took a seat next to her.

"We hardly talk anymore, other than business. He barely spoke on our last communication."

"Nonsense, he talks about you constantly. He is proud."

"Why doesn't he tell me, then?"

"He still misses your mother. Maybe that has something to do with his distance," Samantha said, pausing to let the thought dangle.

Gwen tensed her shoulders. She didn't want to rehash her mother's illness again, and she said goodbye a long time ago.

"So tell me all about that kiss you had this afternoon," Samantha said.

"Kiss?" she said, pretending to be bewildered.

"Don't play dumb with me. You kissed Seth." Samantha smirked. "What is he like? I know he's tall, handsome, and muscular. I wanted to kiss him myself and put my arms around him."

"It was nothing . . . he just saved my life. I couldn't think of a better gesture."

"Trying to play coy with your old friend Samantha—have you been gone that long? You held his hand and exchanged words before the accident. I had my eye on you. Don't worry, you weren't too obvious. I was the only one watching. Your secret is safe with me."

Gwen shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what is happening, Samantha. Ever since we were attacked, I've been lonely. If I die, what would I leave on Mars?"

"I will always be here for you."

"You are a friend. I am talking about a partner. I want someone to share my time with, my soul. Seth treats me with respect and always made me laugh when I missed Mars. Chloe and he are my best friends on Lunara. Especially Chloe—we talk about everything, but I'm afraid I ruined our friendship."

"You must share your feelings or you will live in misery and jealousy. You love Seth. I think you realized you needed to tell him."

"I have always loved him," Gwen said. "I hope I didn't ruin our friendship."

"They are your friends. Besides, your infraction was only minor. Seth probably understands, and Chloe will, too."

"Maybe you are right. He told me he would keep the secret, and the burden is lifted. Hopefully, he can forget what I said."

"Or even better, I hope he remembers and falls in love with you."

Gwen furrowed her brow. She didn't need that problem.

After the rest of the crew departed for Aethpis Colony, Chloe Jones sat for a long time alone applying her handkerchief to her eyes. The _Protector's_ hangar bay was empty. Seth was in the supply room, scouring for parts. His hatred for Mars and his constant vigil for her safety upset her.

Her return to Mars had been a complicated one. She hoped Seth would accept Mars's new peace and security in which the hostilities of the past were over and a new era was beginning. She hoped he would see it as a place they could live and start a family. But she also feared that Seth would never change. His hate and fear had scarred him to a depth that would never heal completely, and she feared he would wage his fight against Mars forever.

She felt she had to accept his hatred, but she couldn't. She had left Mars with her own hate and anger. Over the years, she had learned to release it, and when she returned, she had seen humanity's kindness and the end of hostility. She wanted to move back to Mars, live in Zephyria, and start a family. She decided that either Seth would agree, or she would find a way to make him.

"Are you still angry?" Seth said as he walked up behind her.

She jumped. With her mind racing, bombarded by too many minds in the port, she missed the thoughts she wanted to read. Normally, she tracked Seth's movements and his mood. Today, she couldn't.

"You're a little overprotective," she said.

"I'll trust my instincts. The situation is easier when we pretend Mars is telling the truth, but we would be wrong. Something is going on. Lunara is a pawn; we are pawns."

He moved over beside her. She stood immediately and walked away from him.

"I want to live on Mars," she said.

"I can't." His face tightened.

"Mars has changed so much since we left on the freighter. I don't have to go back to the way I was. What happened to us won't happen again. Pilots are in high demand. I spotted a poster for cargo runners to the poles."

"The poles are too dangerous."

"And starwings aren't?" she said.

"That isn't the point. The point is . . . Mars hasn't changed!" he said in a tone he only used when he wanted to stop a conversation.

She wouldn't allow him to shut her down. Not when she had him on Mars. She wanted to confront him here, not back on Lunara. "This is what I want. A family on Mars."

"We were raised on Lunara."

"Lunara is just a mining colony. Zephyria has gardens, water, and family centers. Lunara has algae paste, recycled water, and hangar bays. A deep space colony isn't a place for children."

"The answer will always be no. I'm only back on Mars out of necessity. We're leaving at the first chance."

"Don't you want children?"

"I do."

"Then why do you resist Mars? So many people live here. Happily."

"I hate Mars!" he screamed. "I hate everything about this wretched planet!"

"Why, though? I lost my hate long ago."

"After what happened to us, how can you not harbor hate? We lived like scavengers. How can a society let children do what we did?"

"We chose to live that way."

"You didn't choose to sell yourself to those despicable men. I still can't fathom how they could do that to children."

"Everyone assumed we were raiders. We were at war at the time, so the police and authority were thrown out the window."

"Stop making excuses for them. Even if you took their money, they assaulted you every time, and you aren't angry with them. I haven't forgiven myself for letting you do it."

"I had to do it so we could eat, and I chose to do it. I'm not ashamed, even if I was a child. It was better than the month we spent on the plains, wandering from farm to farm, stealing to survive. Barely making it to shelter each night before the cold came."

"I'm mad because I couldn't stop it," he said.

Grief exploded from his mind, causing her to place her hand on the table beside her. She sensed him now. He was a sun, while everyone else was a speck of light.

Tears welled in his eyes. "I was too weak to stop my mother from dying, and too weak to help you."

"You were a boy." It broke her heart to feel the turmoil inside of him. Yet she was glad she was able to get him to allow the hurt to resurface. "There wasn't much you could have done to stop the raiders, and your time in old Zephyria was well spent." She moved over to him and touched his cheek. "I was so proud of you for finding a way out of there. You led me to Lunara where I found happiness and a new family with Ty and Jan."

"But I let you down in Old Zephyria. I failed to protect you. They prostituted you. How can I forgive a planet that allowed that?"

"Because the war ended, and everyone learned a valuable lesson about humanity. The raiders were despicable, but fate sent them to show us just how low humanity could reach and never repeat it."

"Our bond strengthened so much in that year we spent in Old Zephyria." Seth sighed. "I don't think I could experience more pain than watching you have to do that every day. How can I demand forgiveness from Mars when I know I can't accept it?"

Chloe understood Seth's hatred of Mars. She had lived through the endless days of having men on top of her, doing things she did not entirely understand at the time. She only knew it was necessary if they were going to survive the Martian army's sweeps to exterminate the raiders, and the raiders themselves. Seth had to watch it happen to her and feel the hollowness grow within her. Using her abilities, she shared the pain with him because she couldn't bear the burden alone. His strength carried her through her year in Old Zephyria, but Seth had no one to share his burden.

Tears streamed from Chloe's eyes. "You carry my burden. I gave it to you long ago. Please release that hatred because I don't feel it anymore."

"It is in my DNA now," he said. "I don't want to let go of it, either. It guides my righteousness. I can never live here again, and I can never accept war as an excuse for what happened to you."

"And what if I stay here?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. She caught her breath. "Then I'll be alone," he said.

His voice seeped from his lips with so little emotion that she didn't feel she recognized him. She tried to say something but couldn't.

After a few moments, he gave up, moved to the _Protector_ , and hopped on the wing to continue repairs. The stray voices in Trivium Port could no longer hide the turmoil from his mind.

Who was bluffing? She wasn't sure that she was. And with his hatred of Mars, she knew he wasn't.
Chapter 14

The train glided along the magnetic tracks toward Aethpis. Because there were no bumps or jolts, Parker continually glanced out the window to confirm it was moving. Twilight darkened the planitia, and he only recognized the outline of Elysium Mons against the otherwise flat and uneventful horizon.

Sometime later, the track veered to the left, and the lights from Aethpis Colony shot like a spotlight into the sky.

"So who are we meeting?" Parker asked. "The _Protector_ needs a lot more work."

"Lighten up," Roche said. "Seth is working on it. Chloe asked me to clear the hangar so she could talk to him. You would be wise to avoid his bad mood anyways. You didn't want to be there tonight."

"I explained the whole thing when you buried your head in the _Protector_ ," Jan said. "We are meeting Sarah and Kyle Cortez—both are children of the minister—and high-level ambassadors. We're going to a local entertainment establishment, Aethpis Gardens. Dancing, drinking, and that sort of thing. Should be a fun night."

"I hope they have beer," Parker said. "I haven't had it in ages," He looked over toward Eamonn, who had remained silent and in his own world for much of the trip. "Why are you so quiet, Captain?" Parker asked.

He received no response. Eamonn refused to turn to the threesome and continued to gaze out the window.

Parker had wanted to talk more about Seth and Chloe with the captain on the ride in, but seeing the captain's lack of interest in everything, he thought better of it and decided he would continue his efforts alone if needed. Perhaps the captain would be more open to talking after a night of relaxation.

He leaned back in his seat. Several minutes passed in silence.

"This rail system is quite amazing," Eamonn said finally. "I can hardly tell we are moving. We are entering Aethpis. The colony is built directly inside one of the craters on the planitia."

Parker had sensed since they arrived that something was wrong with his captain. He was never this quiet and seemed indifferent to the Lunara incident. Even at the briefing, Seth thought he had not pushed the minister or Thomas Cross hard enough for better answers. He had accepted the Martian explanation completely, and Parker suspected something was diverting his captain's thoughts elsewhere.

It couldn't have come at a worse time: the invasion of Lunara, coupled with his suspicion that the truth remained hidden. The crew was powerless without Eamonn. Had he given up? The case closed?

Entering Aethpis, the train passed through a short tunnel burrowed inside the rim of the crater. Once the darkness ended, lights filled the cabin, and the colony was revealed.

Parker was immediately struck by the solar panels that stretched along the rim of the entire crater. He hardly recognized the colony from his last visit; a completely new landscape of buildings dominated the skyline.

The massive reservoir overshadowed all other buildings in his view. To his disbelief, the water rippled through the glass siding. Bright lights blazed on the water's surface, a showcase he guaranteed would dazzle the strongest doubters of Martian colonization. Nowhere on Mars had so much liquid water.

Three other main buildings rested to the near side of the reservoir. Even though Parker grew up running between Trivium Port and Aethpis Colony, he found himself using the notes from Sarah to identify the new marketplace, government research center, and train station. He could distinguish the older parts of the colony if he squinted past the fresh paint and carved molding along the edges.

Parker's departure from Mars mirrored that of the crew in one respect but not in others. He ran away from the planet, but unlike everyone else, he ran away from something good. Mars Central asked him to join a special team of engineers to build the next generation of ships at the yards on Phobos. He was given special quarters, more credits than he would ever need, and free access to the latest Martian technology. But the constrictive nature of working in a team was too much for him to bear. He wanted his own ship, and the _Protector_ was the perfect ship for him. His position gave him flexibility for advancements while allowing him to be independent. He answered to no committees. He was a chief engineer.

The train pressed against his back as it slowed on its approach to the station.

After gathering their things and exiting, they moved with the rest of the passengers to the main terminal. The crowd in Aethpis overwhelmed them more than in Trivium Port. The walk was tedious, and they looked in vain for their escort.

Parker was about to give up on the expected help when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He whirled around.

"Excuse me," Jan said before Parker had a chance to say anything.

"My apologies," the man who had touched Parker said cordially. "Are you the delegation from Lunara?"

"Yes, we are," said Parker. "And you?" The grab on the arm had annoyed him.

"My name is Eldon Birch, and I'm your escort to the Aethpis Gardens. Do you have luggage my assistants can carry for you?"

Parker eyed him, trying to find something snippy to say to him. The man, who was thinly built, stood patiently waiting for a reply. His diplomatic tone lulled Parker's agitation, but Parker still said sharply, "Don't grab people like that. We have no luggage. We expect to return to Trivium later tonight."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you. I called out but I wasn't able to make myself heard above the crowd."

Parker waved his hand at the man. "Don't worry. Bad day."

"Hopefully, I can make it a better day for you."

Parker grunted, as he doubted this man could fix the _Protector_ or ease his worries about Lunara.

"Come this way." Birch pointed toward a transport taxi.

"Can I have one moment with my crew?" Eamonn said, not as a request but an order.

"I'll wait for you over there." Birch bowed once again before he proceeded toward a spot beside his assistants on the wall.

Once he was far enough away, Eamonn turned toward the crew and said, "I won't be attending the event. I have some personal business."

"I'll come with you then. You can't walk alone around here without help," Parker said. In truth, he wanted to know what was eating at the captain.

"This colony is harmless, and it's personal business," Eamonn replied. "I will meet you here at midnight, local time. You must attend the event. We already agreed, and they are paying for the repairs to the _Protector_."

"I don't like this," Parker said, but Jan grabbed his arm to stop his complaints.

"We will distract that Eldon guy so you can get out of here unescorted," she said.

"Thanks."

Eamonn darted toward the escalators to the right. He was already on his way down when Birch hurried to them in protest. "Sir, sir, that is not the way to the transport."

Roche took one long stride and his towering figure stood over Birch. "He is looking for the bathroom. He told us to go ahead without him. He will be awhile."

"Unusual," Eldon said, dropping his poised manner with a series of arm gestures that showed his disgust. Realizing his deviation from protocol, he pulled his arms back to his side and straightened up. "I will note. I am not responsible for him in the event he is injured."

"Just take us to Aethpis Gardens," Jan said, looking at Roche and rolling her eyes.

Parker bit his lower lip. The captain had abandoned them, sticking him with diplomatic duties when he had repairs to make and investigations to conduct. The slight ran deep in his mind for a long moment. Then he let out a long breath and followed the group.
Chapter 15

Sweat dripped from Seth's forehead as he pressed the welding cutter into the hull of the _Protector_ , slicing the metal above the plasma gun. It was the same spot the rebel fighter had damaged—narrowly missing him with a volley of bullets—in their escape. Sparks dropped to the ground as he guided the welder, careful to avoid cutting the sensitive circuitry along the surface of the hull. As the metal cooled and twisted, the loud sounds it gave off dulled all the other sounds around him, leaving him with some sense of silence, which he appreciated.

He had erupted at the briefing, and Chloe had pressed him to talk. He knew she meant well, and he didn't blame her, but he needed time alone to think.

His return to Mars was churning the same anguish and haunting thoughts that he had experienced before. He had tried to prepare himself for the emotional torture the government would put him through, and he had managed to conceal his aggression successfully until he erupted at the meeting. Terrorist attacks and an incompetent effort to restore communications to Lunara had made him question whether the current leadership provided safety or if they controlled Lunara.

He needed to get in touch with Ty, and then he and the crew would leave the planet and never return. Yet . . . Gwen wouldn't leave Mars anytime soon. Her father warned Eamonn and Jan to exclude her from any operations for the next week. The chancellor, using cryptic political mumbo-jumbo, had said he was convinced the invaders didn't destroy the _Protector_ because Gwen was a target of a kidnapping.

_Which is probably the case_ , Seth figured.

Gwen being confined to Zephyria was fine with him; he didn't want her here. His nerves were tearing apart, but when Gwen had advanced on him, she destroyed whatever comfort he might have had around her. She had left him caught between two places. She had always intrigued him, but he looked on her more as a friend, and even though she was younger than he, he often looked to her for guidance. He had never seen that youth in her until today, but he had also seen the poise and the grace she projected as the daughter of the chancellor. Had she let her emotions defeat her, or was she really in love with him? Which part of her was she showing when she kissed him—the youthfulness or the well-thought-out diplomat?

He pressed the cutter harder along the ship, curving his arcs finely to satisfy any complaints Parker might have about his handiwork.

His return to Mars stuck like a dagger in his side. The cruelty of the planet reached all the way to Lunara, snatched him, and then shoveled his worst memories back into his head. He couldn't get his slain mother's image out of his mind. He hadn't slept well. The dream reoccurred, and Mars trickled like sand in an hourglass, consuming him. His hatred for the planet gripped his fears, squeezing the rage slowly until it became an obsession.

Mars had left him with horrid memories. Nothing good about his mother remained. The long years had replaced his mother's voice and her stories with silence. The shadow of the planet twisted all his good memories. His memory of his mother stirred thoughts of a dead woman lying in the street, a knife clenched in her hand, and worried thoughts written across her face, and the echoing voice saying, "Seth, don't wander off."

He tightened his grip on the welder. After finishing the last cut in the hull, he scanned the hangar for Chloe. He spotted her through the glass partition.

She lay in the break room. She was safe.

He shifted back toward the hull. With a pair of thermal gloves on his hands, he yanked on the torched section. After a series of sharp twists, the shard snapped off, and he threw the metal sheet to the floor, where it rattled with a clang. He stepped on the service ladder, descended to the hangar's deck, and walked across toward the break room.

"Hey, beautiful, wake up," he said. She continued to keep her back to him. He walked a little faster toward her but slowed as he got closer and heard her whimpering. "What's the matter?" he asked as he reached the couch and sat next to her.

"Nothing," she said. "The return is overwhelming. All the voices in my head. I am worried . . ."

"About Mars?"

"No. Mars is safe. Not hearing from Ty is troubling."

"We won't be on Mars for long."

"After we hear from Ty, we should stay on Mars. We can't stay on Lunara forever." She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him slowly on the lips.

He pulled back. "Again. We had this conversation. I can't stay here. The images still haunt me. I understand if you don't return, and I won't have any animosity."

"Don't be so dumb," she snapped. She tried to push him, but he was too strong for her to move. "Get away from me!"

"Stay. It's okay, Chloe. Don't let me stop you. I'm returning to Lunara as soon as possible. I must be near Earth; the feelings I get from the planet ease the turmoil within me."

"Why do you hate Mars so much? Mars is just a place. You never gave it a chance. What is so special about Lunara that makes you safe?"

"Because I can protect you on Lunara. Again, the Earth guards over me somehow. I feel fate wants me there."

"Who asked you to protect me your entire life? I am grown up."

"I made a promise to a little girl that I would watch her."

"She is a woman, now."

"I—"

He stopped as he heard the clang of metal on metal resonate through the hangar, then the sound of beads hitting the cement floor in rapid succession. Seth's senses tingled as he searched for any sign of movement.

"Did you hear . . ." Chloe said in a low voice.

"I don't know. Stay close to me." He grabbed her hand. They moved toward the ship and crouched behind the front-landing strut.

"I don't sense anyone," Chloe whispered.

"Look on the ground. All the orange glitter. I bet that is metalor." Seth stood up and moved toward the mess on the floor.

"Seth," she said, but her urge for him to remain concealed was in vain.

Already over on his knee, he inspected the debris. "Come over here. The hull cooled and must have snapped the rivets and released the bullet fragments."

She bent down beside him. "These bullets hit the _Protector_ back on Lunara?"

He nodded.

"They almost look undamaged," Chloe said, extending her hand to pick one up. She squawked and released the bullet fragment.

"Is it hot?" he said, grabbing her to inspect the injury.

"No, not at all. The metal, the molecules, and the atoms showed themselves to me. When I let go, the sensation stopped. It just startled me."

"Don't touch it," he said, grabbing a small bag containing cogs and sprockets. He emptied the contents into the tool box, grabbed a pair of pliers, picked up a dozen metalor fragments from the ground, and placed them into the bag. He stowed the bag in his pocket.

He stood back up and noticed Chloe drifting away.

Her face turned pale. Her arm crept toward the welding torch that was secured to the service ladder.

"Remember when I said I couldn't sense anyone," she said.

He nodded as his eyes darted back and forth.

"We are not alone in the hangar anymore."

He whirled his head around and listened. "Where?"

A blur of a man rushed at him. He had no time to react before a jarring jolt to his shoulder spilled him across the floor. Hearing Chloe scream at the top of her lungs, he twisted on his belly, trying to figure out where the attacker had gone. He had no chance of getting up; two men were over him instantly.

A third man went straight for Chloe. She grabbed the welding cutter and jabbed the flame toward the man's shoulder.

He howled and staggered back.

Chloe thrust the cutter forward a second time, but the man jumped back a stride, still nursing the burn to his shoulder.

"Seth!" Chloe cried.

A surge of strength coursed through Seth's muscles.

One of his attackers caught Seth's right arm behind his back and held firm. As the other attacker stepped toward him with his fist drawn back, Seth kicked his foot toward him, thrust it into his midsection and sent the attacker backward, winded.

If the man on his back hadn't been so large, Seth could easily have thrown him across the hangar floor. Instead, using the leverage from his legs, Seth thrust his head into the attacker's nose. His skull crushed the cartilage, creating an unnatural thudding, crunching sound that echoed off the ship above them.

Instantly releasing his grip, the man staggered back.

Seth didn't allow him to recover. He whirled around with a roundhouse kick into the man's chest, and sent him spilling across the floor, wheezing for breath. He turned to Chloe, who was several meters away.

Chloe pushed the torch toward the man once again, but the muscular man sidestepped the flame and grabbed her arm. She cried out in agony and released her grip on the welder, which fell to the ground.

With his other arm, the man grabbed her neck and squeezed.

She squawked with a terrifying need. She was defenseless against the man, and Seth was too far away to stop him. The man came at her, drew his arm back, and with a heave punched her square in the forehead.

The unavoidable blow sent her silent to the floor.

Even before she dropped, Seth bolted toward her. The rage inside of him built to the equivalent of a star going supernova. With a single stride, he jumped high into the air—higher than he had ever jumped before—and slammed down hard on the back of Chloe's attacker, sending the helpless man to the floor. With a series of jabbing punches, Seth pummeled the man into unconsciousness.

Breathing with great heaves, Seth spun to face the other men—another source for him to take his frustrations out on. They stumbled to their feet and dashed for the door. He started for them, then halted and turned back to where Chloe lay.
Chapter 16

Eamonn walked down a number of streets and alleyways and finally stood on the stoop of apartment complex thirty-four. The pelting windstorms of Mars shaded the dim building red—and no amount of cleaning would remove the grime. He gazed up at the towering building's many windows in a futile attempt to locate the apartment he had walked away from five years ago.

As he entered, he saw that the lobby still had a sterile decor, with no decorations or elaborate paintings. The lowest of the credit workers lived here, and they didn't spend their credits frivolously. He spotted the directory, and with some dread, found the apartment. He headed for the elevator and pressed the button for level thirty-seven. Why was he dreading seeing her again?

After a short ride up and a long walk down the hallway, he was in front of door number 37-N. He straightened his jacket and shirt four times before he found the courage to knock on the door. No answer came, so after a few seconds, he continued to knock.

Footsteps approached. His heart started to thump.

The door opened. "What is the big idea?" Madelyn said, trailing off in disbelief. She crept to the open side of the door, and with her left foot prevented the door from opening fully.

"Madelyn."

No sooner did he say her name than she tried to slam the door. He put his arm between the frame and the door, but Madelyn didn't stop and crunched his forearm.

He grimaced.

"Let me talk with you for five minutes," he said through the crack. "That's all I ask."

"No, we said goodbye a long time ago," she said, the chill in her voice colder than a Martian night. "Move your arm before I break it off."

"Please, I'm begging you," he said. "I was wrong; I see that now. Let me explain, and I'll be off forever."

She growled, released her grip, and lowered her head. "Come in . . . but don't get too comfortable."

She opened the door, and he caught his first complete sight of her in almost five years. She was as beautiful to him now as the day they first met. She wore a skintight black top and dark utility pants, and her face was masked with red dirt. As usual, she had wrapped her long hair tightly in a bun just behind and above her right ear. The long high cheeks he had known had sunk slightly in the five years since they had parted, but she was every bit as slender and athletic as he remembered.

"You will excuse my appearance and smell," she said. "My shift just ended in the mines, and I was settling in for the night."

"You look fantastic," he said, trying to move closer to her.

She backed away and headed down the hall to the living area. "I already paid for my shower, and I am not about to pay twice. Make yourself comfortable, but don't get settled in. I want you out of here after you say what you need to say." She fled into the bathroom, leaving him alone.

He held himself silent as he listened to the dripping of the water. On her wall shelves were many of her favorite books, all in original paper bindings, a rare antique from Earth. He scanned the titles: _Mother Goose_ , _The Raven_ , _Beowulf_ , and a few H. G. Wells stories.

When the shower stopped, he moved over to the couch. Through the frosted door to the bathroom, her silhouette stretched, and he stared guiltily toward her. The curves of her body aroused him. So much so, he had to check himself and make sure he wasn't going to gawk like a schoolboy when she reappeared. He rubbed his hand on the scar along his forehead. The scar always reminded him of the adventure they had on Titan and how she had cut him. Yet that moment was a fond memory, even with the jagged reminder.

When she finished drying herself, she slung her long bathrobe around her torso and opened the door. "I heard about the attack on Lunara."

"We barely escaped," he said. "My ship is pretty beat up because of it."

Her face soured. "Your ship. I see. You were always good at escaping conflict."

"We had no choice, and I'm not here to boast or debate my escape with you. Gwen Arwell is a member of my crew, and her presence is the reason we survived."

"Can't hurt the princess."

"Something like that." He looked long into her light brown eyes. "How have you been?"

"Say what you came here to say." The shower had not cooled her anger toward him. She moved past him and sat down on the far end of the couch.

He paused for a moment, taking in the fruity aroma of her bath soaps.

"I want you to be with me on Lunara. I should have insisted you come before . . . I was a fool to let you stay."

"After the way you left me, never."

"Lunara gave me—"

"Never!"

"Lunara gave me a great opportunity. I couldn't turn a captainship down. You know my dream—"

"You should have dreamt about us," she said. "What was I supposed to do? I invested in my mining operation, and I couldn't leave."

"I couldn't stay," he said, moving toward her. "I should have married you, and we should be together."

"The timing was awful," she said. She began to sniffle. "I—"

"I missed you." He grabbed her hand; her fingers were soft to the touch. He pulled her hand up to his face and kissed it.

"I lost . . ." she said, pulling it back. She stood and faced the bookcase, purposely keeping her back to him.

He moved over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her aroma tickled his nose. "Lost what?"

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "All my credits. After you left, our mining operation had an accident. We did not get insurance in place in time, and we had to pay out large settlements to the victims and government fines. I was left with nothing." She turned and looked up at him.

"Why didn't you contact me?" He brushed her wet hair, but she shrugged him off. "I would have helped."

"I didn't want to burden you with my failure."

"You would never be a burden to me."

"Well, it is too late to turn back." She moved past him toward the door. "I survived this long without you. I don't need you anymore. I think you should leave."

"Come with me to Lunara. I haven't returned to Mars because I didn't want to face you. Now back, I can't stop thinking about you. About the regret."

"I won't leave and let them think you saved me." She pointed toward the door. "Get out."

"No one will think that. I still love you. I hope you still love me." He pulled out a slip of paper from his jacket and placed it on the table. "Here is a guest ticket for the Anniversary Gala at Trivium Port. It pays for your trip to the gala. Please meet me there, I will be expecting you."

With a stone face, she moved over to the door and stood, in silence, holding it open.

He looked into her eyes, but she didn't respond.

All he could do was hope she would come to the gala. He moved by her and left the apartment. He walked down the hallway and heard the door close silently behind him, the same way it had done five years ago.

The streetlights below streamed into the dining area set aside for the delegates from Aethpis Colony and the Lunara crew members. The circular restaurant sat atop the highest tower in Aethpis and was simply furnished with tables and chairs on the outside. The inside circle contained a vast garden of various plants, mixed in with sculptures.

Sarah Cortez had taken them through the garden on their way in. Lunara's garden, Parker noted, paled in comparison. He estimated the gardens contained at least thirty additional vegetable types. The sculptures portrayed farmers, animals, and plants. Each animal was extinct: elephants, rhinos, buffalo, and some he couldn't even name. Regretfully, he wished his schooling had taught him more Earth history and less about how to maintain a hydroponics bay.

At the dining table, he listened to Sarah and Jan talk about several different subjects—mostly about developments within Aethpis over the past several years.

"Don't you get information reports on Lunara?" Sarah asked.

"We get reports, but they never include details about daily changes," Jan replied. "Our reports are production and economic data. Sure, we get the news, but that isn't accurate about the people. Those broadcasts are too political. We are a fair distance from Mars most of the time, and relaying pertinent information is top priority with our limited transfer time. Our ignorance of Mars is embarrassing."

"To atone for our lack of courtesy toward Lunara, I can fill you in on Aethpis. How many from your crew are Aethpisian?"

"Ty and I are from Aethpis. Captain Dalton is also from Aethpis. We are all from the Delta sector in the colony," Jan said, and then thought for a moment. "Gwen is obviously from Zephyria. Seth and Chloe are Zephyrian essentially. They grew up in a Zephyrian algae farming town on the planitias, but if you asked Seth, you might get a totally different answer."

"I'm from Trivium Port, but I lived in Aethpis—Kappa sector," Parker said, then he jabbed his thumb. "Roche was born on Lunara. His first trip to Mars."

They all turned toward the far table in the dining area, where Roche had moved over to talk to several female aides.

"He's finding his way around Mars quite nicely," Sarah said, smiling.

"After a hectic few days, I can't muster the energy to join him. I'm enjoying just listening," Parker said, looking toward Sarah.

Sarah was the most beautiful woman Parker had ever seen. Her charm and charisma hit him from the moment she introduced herself. She was no different from Gwen—the daughter of the highest-ranking official in a major colony. If Gwen was a princess, Sarah was, too. He had heard her name spoken before, but until today he had known no more about her and had never even seen a picture of her.

Sarah made him feel like a teenager again. He hung on her every word. She was smart, sophisticated, and a definite politician—an intimidating thought to him.

He imagined Sarah would be the minister of Aethpis one day. The way she told her stories seemed to inspire confidence in her abilities. A trait found in almost all politicians. She had poise, and most of all, she seemed to enjoy the company of a bunch of crew members of a mining ship. Her act was flawless. He couldn't tell for a moment that, in fact, she dreaded another boring reception.

"Listening is a good trait around me," Sarah said, smiling toward both of them. "My father says I could talk indefinitely if I chose to. Over the last ten years, Aethpis and Zephyria have had a great relationship. Trivium Port used to be downtrodden, with corruption and crime festering throughout the colony. Together Aethpis and Zephyria cleaned it up, making it the economic center of the planet. Even the nonaligned colonies use Trivium for their trade and currency exchanges.

"Our relationship is so close that each colony has developed its own specialties; Zephyria concentrates on mining, terraforming, and industrial machinery, while we focus on spacecraft, transportation, and communications, such as the Black Widow and the array in orbit. Although we are independent, we tend to concede dominance to the other colony for trading purposes. Our closeness keeps us together but still unique."

An aide to Sarah walked over and waited for her to pause. Sarah acknowledged her with a hand gesture, and the aide bent down and whispered in her ear. Sarah nodded and sent her away.

"My brother has arrived," she said. "Kyle was supposed to be here an hour ago. Must have been delayed again by another Martian crisis."

Moments later, Kyle Cortez entered the dining area. The room went silent, and the aides stood in recognition. Parker and Jan did not know if they should get up but decided to stand in order to show respect.

Smiling cordially, Kyle walked toward the small group, nodding to all the high-ranking delegates attending the event. He arrived at the table, and Parker noticed immediately the fine fabric running along the shoulders of his sleek, button-down jacket. Kyle raised his hand to greet everyone and slipped into the seat beside his sister. "Sorry, I am late. Political business near Pavonis Mons tied me up."

"Pavonis. I did a six-month stint in the mining colony of North Tharsis," Parker said.

"Service?" Kyle said.

"Yes, the Martian Army," Parker said, thinking back to the hard days on the open surface—a rite of passage on Mars. "Brutal conditions out there."

"Not much has changed," Kyle said. "What component of the army did you belong to? I was in Tactical Command."

"Special Forces Command for six years. Ranger captain. Then Engineer Corps for three. My team built the glacier melters."

"Now, I truly understand the brutal comment," Kyle replied. "The miners continue to cause labor problems. For almost ten seasons, they tried to gain more credits for their work."

Parker remembered the conditions of the mining camps. They lived three to a room. Two beds. Twelve-hour shifts all week. Many returned to the main colonies after three months—not wanting to renew their contracts. "And you don't believe they should receive more credits? They work on the poles."

"I mediate the complaints on behalf of Aethpis—my role is to be their ear. They negotiate for better conditions. We provide what we can afford."

"I understand," Parker replied. "Lunara is not much different. The turnover rate on the colony is high, and the negotiations with one of the many labor groups are always happening. Right, Jan?"

Parker found her preoccupied with Kyle's jacket. The only reason he didn't brush off her gaze as casual interest was the intensity of her stare. He cocked his eye toward Jan. He had never known her to be spacey, especially in front of a family as important as the Cortezes. She had been to her share of formal dinners.

As his eye weighed on her, she finally broke her trance and spoke. "I love your pendant. Can you tell me about it?"

"This is an heirloom, passed down from generation to generation," Kyle said, unclipping the pendant from his jacket and handing it to Jan. "My father has a similar one, and so does my sister. Though she doesn't wear it nearly as much I do."

"I'm worried it will be broken," Sarah said. "Family heirlooms can't be bought at stores. Mine is stored in the Martian Central Bank."

Jan looked closer and then handed it to Parker, who knew straightaway that the pendant was a rarity on Mars. It was made of pure gold and molded into a figure of a bird holding a branch of a tree. On the other side was a fish. "This is nice," he said. "Never seen one like that before. What do the fish and branches mean?"

"My father told me it means peace and prosperity. It has always brought me luck in all my travels."

Parker wondered what Jan found so interesting. He guessed that her interest in the pendant's style was bogus, but she played it off well enough to trick Kyle and Sarah. _What is she up to?_

For the rest of the meal, they talked about Mars, Lunara, and the current news. The conversation continued for hours into the night. Jan said no more about the pendant or its meaning. Parker made a note to ask her about it later. All the while, he couldn't get the thought of the pendant out of his head. He guessed that Jan suspected something, and he hated not knowing what it was.

The departure gate to Trivium Port was sparse as most of the traffic this time of night was arrivals from other colonies. Eamonn had been staring at the same art design for the last two hours, since his disheartening reunion with Madelyn. The picture's lines whirled, the dots danced, and his eyes tried to adjust to catch either of them, but they escaped faster around the surface. However, the slower he followed the picture, the slower the dots and lines escaped. An unusual play on reverse logic: his natural reaction was to dart his eyes to catch the dots, but as he slowed down his gaze his mind soothed as a reward. The placement of this picture was no mistake, in his opinion. He believed the artist designed it with the intention of forcing people to slow down and think about their problems while leaving the colony.

The bustling of boots pulled him away from the design, and he looked up. Jan and Parker stood before him.

"Where is Roche?" Eamonn said, looking behind them and not seeing any sign of his secondary engineer.

"He'll be making the trip back tomorrow," Parker said. "He found some new friends. I think they are going to the local clubs."

"Why didn't you go with him?"

"I have things to look into. Let's go to the train." Parker was already walking toward the departure ramp.

Eamonn turned, cocking his eyes to Jan.

"I don't know," Jan mouthed back. "Let's go." She grabbed him by the hand and yanked him to his feet. "I hope your business was a success."

"Only time will tell," he murmured.

They walked through the doorway out to the boarding platform. The chill struck them hard. Eamonn held himself from shivering, but Jan could not. She placed her hands under her arms for warmth. Eamonn, sensing her discomfort, rubbed her shoulders.

"This tunnel is like deep space," Parker said, pacing around in a circle. His breath curled in the air as the water vapor crystallized. "Those heat lamps are doing nothing."

"Should we go back into the terminal?" Eamonn suggested, looking at Jan's lips, which were turning blue.

"No, the train will be here any second," Jan said, standing up on her toes and then down again in an effort to keep her feet warm. "This cold hits you fast. I hope they have the communications up when we get back into Trivium. I want to talk to Ty. I haven't heard a word from him since we got back."

"Seth and Chloe gave you his message, right?" Eamonn said.

"What message?" Jan said. She stopped shivering, forgetting about the cold for a moment. "I haven't had a chance to talk to them since the briefing. They were arguing, and I didn't want to get involved."

"There was an all-is-okay message from Lunara," he said, a bit ashamed he had let it slip his mind on the train ride into Aethpis.

"I know that much. It was on the news."

"They cut out the end. Ty said, 'Jan, I love you.'"

"That is a bit odd," Jan said.

Her reaction took Eamonn aback. Maybe the cold had got to her, but he would have expected a more heartfelt reaction. "Why is that odd?"

"An official message from Lunara, right? Ty wouldn't say something that personal. Not for any reason."

"Maybe the situation just got the best of him," Parker said.

Jan shot him an indignant look. "Ty doesn't get rattled."

"The message was short," Eamonn said, "and he probably knew the system wouldn't last long. He just compressed all his thoughts."

Jan grumbled. "I will not be convinced until I speak with him."

"What about the pendant?" Parker said to Jan.

"What pendant?" Eamonn said.

"The one Kyle Cortez wore. Jan stared at it the whole night."

"I have seen that pendant before," she said. "I just don't know where."

"And did you recall anything?" Parker said.

She shivered. "No, and don't ask. I am not in the mood."

Eamonn said, "I thought this trip would settle us down. We all seem more miserable than when we arrived."

Jan sighed. "I just need to talk to Ty. Where is that train?"

Eamonn put his arm around her shoulder. "Here it comes, I can see the lights."
Chapter 17

Seth handed the merchant his credit ID, given to him and the rest of the crew by Chancellor Arwell for all purchases on Mars. After he received the ID back, he picked up the pair of ready-to-eat breakfast pouches and a quick freeze medical packet from the counter.

As he left the store, the salmon-colored hue of the Martian morning glowed through the glass roof above. He looked to his left out of the windowed wall and paused to watch the wind carry a dust devil to the east. Trivium Port was sheltered from the torrential winds of Mars, but that safety came at the price of chaotic winds that created some odd dust patterns. His gaze shifted to the horizon, and the varying shades of the rising sun caught his attention. After a minute, he proceeded toward the hotel suite where he and Chloe were staying.

The court area teemed with people, and he wondered how anyone could function when it really got busy. He rubbed his eyes and yawned as he rode the escalator up. He hadn't slept since the attack in the hangar. He had spent the night standing guard over Chloe. The attacker he had managed to apprehend was still unconscious in the Trivium Medical Facility. Unfortunately, the security cameras in the area had malfunctioned, and the leads on the two men dried up—or so the security center had claimed. The fools running the Trivium Port security office had set their minds against his conspiracies, forcing him to draw upon the adage, "If you want something done right . . ." He just didn't know how find the "right" way yet.

After taking the elevator to the fifth floor, he walked down the hallways to their room at the end of the hall, slipped his keycard out of his pocket, and slid the metallic square across the door's scanner. The handle on the hotel room unlatched, and he moved in.

Jan took a stride toward him and pointed her sonic pistol into his chest. He nodded. Immediately, she lowered the weapon. He handed her one of the breakfasts.

"They told me to shake the pouch and open," he whispered. "The breakfast should be hot and ready to serve in less than one minute. How is Chloe?"

"The same," Jan said. "Did the guy you decked last night say anything?"

"Nothing. He isn't awake. I should have finished him off." He turned to Chloe. The bruise on Chloe's forehead, as big as a golf ball, churned the rage within him. "I am still angry, more so than frustrated."

"You did the right thing. She is safe now," Jan said. "No need for anyone else to get hurt. Even if he was a creep, he may have a family."

"I suppose if he had children, I might disappoint a future criminal." He moved to the bed, paused, and turned back toward Jan. "I don't like what is going on around here. After Chloe wakes, I'll do my own investigating. I don't trust the security guards' explanation one bit."

"You're tired. When is the last time you got some sleep? Go lie beside her for a few hours at least."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Don't shoo this problem away."

"You are no good to her if you are tired. Please," she said in a strong tone. The request stiffened his body, making him more unyielding. She placed her hand on his chest. "I am worried about Ty myself. I don't like what is happening around here, either. I want us to meet."

"When?"

"Eamonn said he had other meetings this morning. He will be available around noon. That gives you some time to sleep."

Seth didn't hear the last few words from Jan. A news report on the holotube had caught his attention. "Four hours ago, three girls playing found two men dead in the old section of Trivium Port. The security force says the killings are related to the rash of drug deals in the area. Police are unable to identify the two men but suspect they are drifters from the nonaligned colonies. Thumb scans and blood IDs turned up negative, unregistered persons." Pictures of the men appeared on the screen, and the newsreader continued, "If you have any information on these two men, please report it to the Port Security."

Seth almost gasped but held his composure. The man on the right was the same man who had nearly crushed Gwen on the cargo trailer. His mind raced with all the possibilities. Was the trailer crash an accident? Even to him it was improbable and only a coincidence, but still he couldn't shake the feeling the two incidents were related.

Another wave of anger coursed through his veins. The same question repeated in his mind. _Who is behind this?_ He had to find out.

"What do you see?" Jan said.

"Don't worry," he snapped. He wished the people responsible for the invasion of Lunara were in the room. He would kill them without remorse or hesitation. "I—"

"Fine, don't tell me. I am the only ally you have. Eamonn thinks you are acting like a child."

"Eamonn's head is elsewhere," Seth said. "Ty told me why he ran from Mars. Now he is back on Mars, and the planet is consuming him. He doesn't want to see that something terrible is happening. He will accept any explanation."

"Don't talk about your captain as if he's your subordinate." Her eyes smoldered, trying to pierce the contempt in his eyes. She held his gaze. "And don't forget, or I'll remind you."

She shook her breakfast pouch violently in his direction and then turned to walk out of the room.

He said in a sharp tone, "Jan, come on. I'm trying to help us all here—"

"Save your rationalizations. Eamonn is right. You are still a child." She continued toward the door and walked out.

"Fine, leave," he muttered under his breath.

He would explain himself during the meeting. He moved over beside the bed, knelt, and brushed Chloe's soft face with the back of his hand. She was still asleep and safe.

Gwen had spent the better part of her return to Mars either walking around Zephyria catching up with longtime friends or remaining alone in her quarters. Her father and Samantha had been scarce in showing themselves, always involved in a meeting or a public outing in preparation of the gala.

Her father had limited her access to only Zephyria. She loathed his convoluted notion that she was in danger. She didn't believe for a minute that anyone would take over Lunara to capture her, as she no longer had value on Mars. However, her old guards, pulled back into duty, shadowed her movement through the colony, and she fell back into her routine as Princess of Mars. Her guards still held loyalty to her primarily. Since she was a child, they had been by her side, and they loved her as any big brother would. She had convinced her father they were unnecessary on Lunara, and he had agreed after many arguments, but after the attack on Lunara, she doubted he would ever agree again. She insisted that if he really wanted to protect someone, Seth and Chloe should be his priority. He ignored her pleas now, maintaining his belief that the invaders were targeting her. She had had enough, and after spending another morning alone, she came to the Majestic Tower to convince him to dispatch a detail to guard Seth and Chloe and to plead for her release.

She stormed into his office.

"Father, I want to have—" her words trailed off as she realized the room was empty. _How do his own guards not know where he is?_ She moved over to his desk to locate his appointment schedule, which read:

7:30 – Meeting with Samantha about Daily Schedule.

8:00 – Secure conference call with the Council.

9:00 – Meeting until Noon with Samantha concerning Gala and other preparations.

The time read 8:10 on her watch. If the guards thought he was in his office, Gwen wondered where he had placed the conference call. The Martian Council always met in chambers. Bylaws of the revolutionary treaty required it—a direct attempt to curb corruption that occurred when officials spoke candidly amongst themselves. Apparently, the council exempted her father from those rules.

On her father's desk, she flipped through the usual reports of economic data, population grievances, and a number of other trivial messages. She had recognized years ago that she couldn't run the colony herself with all the bureaucracy involved. She found it altogether tiresome for someone of her nature. She was quite happy as a diplomat for him and for the people of Zephyria. Her voice inspired change, and ideas were more powerful than legislation . . . at least she used to inspire change when she was on Mars.

Scanning the reports, a report entitled _Metalor_ intrigued her. The same substance he mentioned in the marketplace. She skimmed over the document:

Metalor is a metal alloy united with meteor dust. Meteor dust is defined as the unique substance gathered from the meteors, originating from a vector in the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy.

The fused material, metalor, has shown to be stronger, lighter, more malleable and ductile than any substance . . .

The substance can be coded at the subatomic level to the unique trait of the purpose of the metal . . .

Metalor is only one practical application of the meteor dust. Recent experiments have shown a bond with other nonmetallic materials, such as carbon.

The signature on the bottom of the paper sent a shiver down her spine: _Thomas Cross_.

Since childhood, Thomas Cross had always frightened her. For the longest time, he had been a favorite of Minister Cortez and his family and a heroic figure during the revolutionary wars to obliterate the raiders, but Mars only knew part of the whole story. She had seen and heard more about him than the rest of the population. Her father had criticized or complimented him—she could never tell which—on a number of occasions for the brutality with which he had handled the raiders and their families. He was renowned for his relentlessness and cunning, typified by the major campaign he led that had pushed the raiders into a final surrender and _rehabilitation._ She feared him.

The rustling of footsteps coming from her father's private hallway startled her. Her muscles tensed. Then voices sounded against the other side of the doorway. She scanned the rest of the report as fast as she could: "fighter crafts, ground troop armor, and weapons systems" was all she could discern before the door to her father's private entrance opened. She stashed the report under a few miscellaneous folders and moved toward the front of his desk.

"Hello, Father," she said as casually as she could, pretending she had been waiting for him.

"Gwen, how did you get in here?" her father said, harsher than she had expected. The look on his face told her that she had gotten away with nothing.

"I let myself in," she said, still trying to play innocent. "Since when are council meetings held out of chambers over voice transmissions?"

"Since when do you let yourself into offices without permission?" He stood in front of her and folded his arms across his chest. "I surely taught you better."

"I always enter your office at my own leisure. Has this changed since I left Mars?" She already knew the answer to the question, but she wanted her father to say the words. She needed to know that her standing with him had fallen.

"You should check in with Bea before you enter his office, Gwen," Samantha said. "It might be easier."

"Quiet!" she blasted back. She wasn't going to let him dodge this question by letting Samantha talk for him. She pointed directly at her father. "I want him to answer."

"Certain protocols must be maintained when entering someone's private chambers," he said. Then he sharpened his words. "You have to grow up and should follow them like the rest of my staff. You are not a child anymore."

"Are you ever going to get over the fact that I embarrassed you?"

"You led a rally for the release of the records from the Revolutionary War. You know what information is sensitive, even now."

Gwen glanced at Samantha, who had been the real organizer of the rally. Samantha had convinced Gwen to join her as research for her final paper, which Gwen had to write in order to complete her masters in political science and graduate from Martian University. Gwen took the blame because she didn't want Samantha to get expelled from the school. Little did she realize the issue Samantha had picked would be so explosive in Zephyria and cause Gwen's banishment to Lunara for "a part of her maturation process," according to her father.

"I led that rally to wake the people up," Gwen said. "The Principles of Man were violated during the war, and justice must be brought."

Her father flicked his hand at her. "The people want to forget. I see you have learned nothing during your time on Lunara. You are still impulsive."

Gwen narrowed her eyes and drew in a long breath. She knew he would say those words, but they still stabbed deep, past the protective barrier she tried to put up, into her heart. Her father had always been close to her in both business and personal manners . . . until the day he sent her to Lunara. He hadn't sought her confidence on any level since that day. And worst of all, her best friend, Samantha Burns, had replaced her as his chief confidant. Why had he pushed her away? She looked into her father's eyes and then into Samantha's. Neither pair of eyes wavered.

"Fine!" she yelled. "I'll start setting up appointments to talk to my own father and my best friend. Good day."

With that, she turned to leave.

Samantha grabbed her elbow as she passed, but with a twist of her shoulder Gwen evaded her grasp and hurried out of the room.

Gwen was still fuming as she entered her apartment complex. Her father and best friend had all but disowned her. She had told Seth of her love, and he had denied her. She had nothing left.

She opened the door and froze. A rustling sound came from the kitchen. She grabbed a small sculpture of a Martian horse from the table near the door and crept forward. _Father isn't going to get away with more spying on me,_ she thought. Her heart started to pound again, and she felt the intruder would surely hear the palpitations thump against her chest.

As she sneaked toward the doorway, the intruder continued to rustle the dishes and utensils as if he were looking for something. _What did Father think I was hiding?_ She was about to peer in when at the same moment the intruder walked out and bumped into her.

She started to swing at the intruder's head but stopped short and dropped the horse to the floor, where it landed with a clang.

"Gwen, what is the matter?" Jan said.

"Jinx! You scared me."

Jan put her hand on her shoulder. "You are safe."

"I'm sorry. I thought my father was spying on me." She moved away from Jan toward the window and stood with her back to Jan. "I almost hit you."

"Come, let's sit down," Jan said. "Why is your father spying on you?"

"I had a major blowup with him. I yelled at him, he yelled at me. I yelled at Samantha. I have never yelled at her before. I haven't been myself since we returned to Mars." Gwen tried to stop her lower lip from quivering. "All my obligations to Zephyria prevent me from being with the crew."

"The crew is taking the return a little hard. The way we fled Lunara, and how they explained the attack to us. I should have never left you alone."

"No. I'm fine. I can handle my father. Zephyrian and Arwell matters stay within colony," Gwen said. "Anyway, what are you doing in Zephyria? We were to meet at the gala."

"I had to check up on you. The crew misses your comforting words."

"Some aren't." Gwen turned her head away.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all," she mumbled. "Zephyria is boring me. That is the reason I got into a mix-up with my father. I hadn't seen Samantha or him since the afternoon we arrived. I went to his office to look for him."

"How did that cause the fight?"

"Well, I was waiting for him, so I started poking around the papers on his desk."

"Gwendolyn—" Jan said, firmly.

"I know. I know. I probably shouldn't have. I will apologize later, but he was so defensive. He was upset for no reason. He told me to grow up, which boiled my blood. After I've represented Zephyria on Lunara, he has some nerve."

"We aren't on Lunara anymore."

"I understand," she said. "But what happened on Lunara isn't being treated with any kind of priority."

"That is part of the reason I came to see you. Have you any information about the invasion?"

Gwen shook her head forcefully. The frustration of the day was eating into her hardened self-image. "Nothing past the briefing. I also poked my nose around the medical databases to see why Bauer is so interested in Seth and Chloe. I couldn't find anything. I was going to ask my father about it." She chewed her cheek. "I don't like how this whole colony has changed. Have I been gone that long?"

"No, you haven't," Jan said. "I came to see you because something is wrong on Mars. I wanted to ask you if you had seen anything suspicious since you arrived."

Gwen immediately thought of the metalor report on her father's desk . . . but she trusted her father was doing the right thing and thought it possible that she had misinterpreted what she read. Maybe the report wasn't even a Zephyrian document. With Thomas Cross's signature, the report might be counterintelligence stolen from Aethpis. But still, if her father ever found out she had read it and relayed the contents to anyone, their relationship would be sundered perhaps beyond repair.

Besides, her father—or at least his security staff—was probably bugging her conversations, and when she conveyed any of the information contained in the report, he would catch her. She swallowed. "Just that I can't be trusted anymore," she said, using her diplomatic tactics to conceal her apprehension. "I'll keep an eye and ear open for you."

"Thanks," Jan said. Over the next few minutes, she told Gwen about Seth and Chloe having a close run-in with some strange men the night before, her time in Aethpis Colony with Sarah and Kyle Cortez, and her bad feeling about having no contact with Ty.

Gwen rubbed her slender chin and let out a deep breath. "So you think something is up on Mars?"

"Yes, well, maybe. I want to look around. We should run our own investigation, too."

Gwen stood, moved toward the radio and turned the music up loud. She identified the orchestral piece as the First Martian Symphony. Jan was about to ask her to turn the volume down, but Gwen put her hand up to silence her. "We need to be certain no one is listening," she whispered. "I guess you are right. Maybe something mysterious is happening around here. I would help you, but I can't leave Zephyria."

"I understand," Jan said. "I only came to ask you for any inside knowledge. Your connections dwarf the rest of the crew combined."

"I don't know who has the power or the leverage anymore to share secrets with me—although I can give you something to help you out."

Gwen pivoted and headed into her bedroom. Minutes later, she returned with a small pouch. She unzipped it and pulled out several objects and data cards. "I made this little packet in case of an emergency. I made a universal security card for both colonies. It is like a skeleton key. No one gave little Gwen credit for her knack with computers and other technical gadgets, but I managed to piece together a data card that opens every door on Mars. Both major colonies trust me implicitly, so it didn't take much to request IDs for each section. I put them all on this one card. Go where you need to go and get the information you need using them."

"Where do you expect me to go?"

"You said it yourself. We need to run our own investigation. You aren't satisfied with the explanation from Mars Central. So break into the Aethpisian Security Center and find out. With most of Mars shutting down for the gala celebration, it should be easy to enter without much trouble."

"Gwen, that is highly illegal."

"Look," Gwen said, forcefully, her anger at her father and Samantha still simmering in her blood. "I want to know what is happening on Mars. More than dust storms are clouding our vision here. Since I came back, my father has severely limited my movement, and the minister and Thomas Cross's story should be double-checked. The truth is the only way we can protect Lunara."

"And who will check Zephyria?"

"I guess I will break into the Zephyrian center. I can talk my way out of anything here."

"I will send Roche to help you," Jan said. "You can't do this alone."

"But I must."

"No." Jan put her hand on Gwen's shoulder. "You are a part of the crew, so you need help from the crew. I know you like to keep Zephyrian matters to yourself, but this is a Lunara matter now."

Gwen bit her lower lip. She didn't like the idea of anyone finding out secrets, but Roche was capable, and she could use the company to calm her nerves. "Okay. I'll send you a message about the time."

"Right before the gala. You should have enough time to return and get yourself ready."

"Sounds good."

"Thanks, Gwen," Jan said. "Are you sure you will be all right here? I can stay if you need me."

"I'm fine. My father is overprotective."

Jan placed her hand on Gwen's. "Don't be brave. Tell me if you want me to stay."

"Would you get going, you old space pilot?" Gwen smiled. "Don't make me kick you out."

"Okay, okay," Jan smirked back. "But I am worried." She hugged Gwen and left the apartment.

Gwen closed the door behind her, turned the radio down, and walked toward the bedroom.

A chill in the air drifted over her as her adrenaline subsided. She rubbed her arms.

"Ouch!" she yelped. Something had pricked her finger. She twisted her arm and felt carefully along her sleeve for the sharp edge. She touched the soft cloth and at first could find nothing unusual.

And then . . .

A small knob stabbed her again. She pulled a beetle-shaped device from her upper arm, near her elbow, and inspected it. The bug had a central body containing the device's vital parts, surrounded by several small legs to adhere to any fabric. Suddenly, she realized someone had tracked her. Her suspicions had turned out to be correct.

Her thumb and index finger rubbed along her brow. When did they slip the bug on her? She hadn't given anyone the opportunity during the train ride from the Majestic tower. Her obvious anger caused the passengers to avoid her.

So when was the bug planted? She rubbed it between her fingers; the legs contracted when she pushed against the body. A grappling feature used for better adherence.

Her eyes widened. Samantha! She had pushed it on her when she grabbed her arm to stop her from storming out of her father's office. Her intention wasn't to prevent her from leaving. She wanted to place the tracking device on her. But why? What had she seen in those reports? Or were her father and Samantha really concerned with her safety and worried that someone was after her?

Someone wanted control of Lunara for the meteor stones; and someone tried to invade Lunara; and someone was successful in doing it. Who was it? A rogue colony? Minister Cortez? She shook her head at the thought. The Mars briefing showed Ty back in control of Lunara.

Or maybe the briefing was a lie. The minister and Thomas Cross were more than eager to share the report with the council. Perhaps they had orchestrated a ploy. Their explanation required almost no corroborating evidence, which troubled both Seth and now Jan.

She had a hunch, a big fat hunch, but it all made sense from a certain twisted perspective. The closer she got to the truth, the more convoluted the situation became. She needed to speak with Ty to know if Lunara was safe again. He would make sense of the situation. She moved toward the comm terminal.

_Jinx,_ she thought, _the communications array is still down._

Scorn for the invaders, for Samantha, and for her father writhed through her veins. She looked at the tracking device, dropped it to the floor, and with a crack, crushed it under her boot.

A part of her regretted the fact that her father had tossed her out. She would only get one opportunity to infiltrate his office, and she had used the opportunity in ignorance of what was going on.

Her eyes were open now, and she was sure she would discover something wrong in the Zephyrian Security Center. The truth was waiting for her to find it.
Chapter 18

Parker sat back in the crew cabin of the _Protector_. Jan and Roche were already sitting around the table for the meeting, and they were just waiting for Eamonn to finish some reports and for Seth and Chloe to arrive. Parker liked the idea of a meeting to mix everyone's ideas and come to a conclusion about what was happening on Mars and whether they trusted anything they had been told.

A creak and a clang echoed through the cabin. Seth and Chloe walked through the door.

Chloe sat beside Roche. "Did you enjoy Aethpis last night, Roche?" she asked.

"Fabulous," Roche replied. "But I wish Parker would have stuck around. This one girl . . . she was perfect for him. She was into all those government conspiracies, too. I couldn't keep up with her. I needed you, buddy."

Parker grunted back.

"She was the female version of you. Long blond hair, blue eyes, and a thin face."

"That's all I need," he muttered. "Someone just like me." He couldn't stop thinking about the woman who was more his opposite—Sarah Cortez and her dark hair, olive skin, and brown eyes.

Chloe laughed. "You can be so uptight, Parker."

"I have other things on my mind," Parker objected.

The hatch clanked shut, quieting them all. Eamonn secured the lock, moved over to the conference table, and sat down.

Parker noticed the captain's disheveled hair and sunken eyes. It seemed as if his preoccupation had been eating at him, and he had lost sleep over it. Parker wondered if Eamonn would be able to concentrate on the matter at hand and be of some help to them.

Eamonn sat down. "This should give us the privacy we need."

"Shouldn't Gwen be here?" Seth said.

"No," Jan said. "Her father still won't allow her to leave Zephyria. I talked with her earlier."

"Jan," Eamonn said. "Since you called the meeting, you should offer the first bit of information."

Parker looked, measuring the crew, trying to get an indication of their mood. Now with Eamonn there, the somber tone of the meeting radiated from everyone, yet for many different reasons. This troubled him more than if they had shared a common problem. Eamonn's concern was elsewhere; Jan and Seth were convinced of a conspiracy on Mars; Chloe was trying to get Seth to let go of his hatred; Roche welcomed his new experience on Mars and wasn't going to let anything distract him; and he, Parker, found himself more worried about Seth and Chloe than he had expected to be. He suspected that at some point someone would stop their sloppiness and take them.

Jan had requested this meeting to spur action, and he wanted the meeting for Seth and Chloe. Seth could unload his worries and return to some semblance of sanity. Then they could finally get down to the business of finding out what happened and who their enemy was.

"With everything going on around here," Jan began, "the Lunara invasion, the communications array attack, the kidnapping attempt on Seth and Chloe. These odd things have me concerned."

"Concerns are fine," Chloe said. "Naturally questions remain, but Mars Central has answered most of them for us. Lunara is back in control. Ty said as much in his transmission."

Jan shook her head. "The way he ended it didn't satisfy me. I think he warned me. He would never end a transmission so informally."

"You can't base your entire suspicions on a cryptic comment by Ty," Eamonn said. "Mars Central and the minister showed us more evidence _for_ than we found _against_ their theory. The report is correct."

"Captain, you have to listen to her," Parker said. "I find your lack of faith in our intuition disturbing. We aren't all paranoid."

Eamonn's eye twitched. "I need facts, not theories."

"I found other things," Jan said. "For one, the delay from the solar flares . . . they never happened. I contacted some old friends at the Solar Research Center, and they said the skies between Earth and Mars have been clean for days."

"Cross's report showed them from the stellar weather service," Eamonn said. "Are you saying they falsified records?"

Jan leaned in closer to Eamonn. "Yes."

"That seems farfetched." Eamonn shook his head and pushed back in this chair. "The weather service being part of a conspiracy doesn't add up. Too many facts to falsify."

Jan's eyes narrowed a bit. "My friends say no flares happened, so they didn't happen."

"What else?" Eamonn said with a rasp in his tone.

"There are a lot of things," Parker said. "That guy Roche and I followed to the private hangar, for one. He was scouting out our hangar—probably was one of the guys who attacked Seth and Chloe."

"That connection is tenuous," Eamonn said. "We can randomly connect dots on a child's picture, but that doesn't mean we form a shape. You must follow the numbers to create a true picture."

"Is this the guy?" Seth said, pulling a photo out of his pocket. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your camera and took a photo at the hospital, Parker."

Parker studied the picture. The man's face was swollen and bruised, but he had no doubts it was the same man. "That's him."

Roche was next to examine the picture. "Could be. Seth did a real number on him. I can't tell if that is his nose or his lip."

"Sorry, Parker. I can't be sure either," Jan admitted. "I only saw him for a minute."

"That lineup wouldn't get a man into police custody," Eamonn said. "You're seeing shadows, Parker."

"Show him our other missing dots," Parker said and sat back in a huff. He was angry he had to prove so much to the captain. He thought he had earned enough respect from him.

"I pulled the video recording of the message from Ty when he told us to go to Mars," said Jan. She moved to the display screen, inputted the correct instructions, and played the sequence again.

The scrambled picture of Ty's face appeared. " . . . Under attack . . . help . . . taken over . . ." The video continued until the soldier knocked him unconscious.

"What is so unusual?" Eamonn said.

"Computer, display frame forty to forty-nine, focusing the screen on sector A4," Jan said.

Parker watched the screen focus on the uniform of a soldier.

"What is it?" Chloe said. "A badge or some medals."

The pendant jogged Parker's memory of last night . . . of Sarah. She kept creeping into his thoughts. _Not now, Parker._

"It's not a badge or medals. It's a pendant." Jan cleaned up the image using the computer filters. "When Kyle Cortez arrived, I was drawn to a similar one attached to his jacket. I didn't know where I had seen it before until we were on the train last night."

Jan passed a photo of Kyle's pendant around the table. Parker compared the viewscreen's image. The bird was the same.

"Now, I could chalk this all up to my paranoid brain," Jan said, pausing for a moment. "Until the attack on Seth and Chloe last night. Someone or something is after us."

"We should investigate." Seth looked around the table for a response. "I don't trust anyone on this planet. Not even Gwen's father and especially not the minister of Aethpis."

"Why must something always be wrong for you?" Eamonn said to Seth in a sharp tone. His finger jabbed at Seth, causing everyone to lean back. "Mars has shown us nothing but hospitality!"

Seth's face turned dark red and his jaw churned. "Chloe and I were attacked last night. What more do you want? Something is wrong on Mars. Something big is about to happen."

"Something big did happen!" Eamonn yelled back. "Lunara was invaded and the communications array was knocked out."

"No!" Seth said. "A rogue invasion force couldn't construct the ships used during the attack. One of the main colonies is involved. Do you know how ignorant we all are about what happens on Mars? The governments have taken control out from under us."

"Seth is right," Parker said. "Mars has changed, and we are in a unique position to see it. They are attacking us. Not Mars. Not Lunara. But us."

Eamonn crossed his arms. "Seth is terrified of Mars, and he has deluded you all. The attack isn't an excuse to believe his inane ramblings."

Seth stood up. "Paranoia is a great excuse for ignoring me . . . until I am shown to be right. What tale will you spin then?"

Parker, standing beside Seth, grabbed at him, but it was in vain. Seth was far too strong for him.

With a flick of his wrist, or so it seemed, Seth pulled Parker's arm up and shoved him against the wall.

"Seth!" Chloe hissed.

Parker groaned as his shoulder crunched into the metal surface. For perhaps the first time, he appreciated the depth of Seth's strength. The pain lingered, and he realized how the man in the photograph had sustained such bad injuries. The man had experienced Seth's full wrath, or perhaps more frightening, he had experienced only a fraction of it. In Parker's case, the force of Seth's action had almost separated his shoulder.

Seth stood tall now. "You and the rest of this crew are as ignorant as I am. Aside from Roche, everyone came to Lunara to hide from Mars, but I am the only one willing to admit it. If Parker didn't come to Lunara, he would have accepted the Phobos job. Jan and Ty claim a growing bureaucracy on Mars as the reason, but Jan wanted to avoid Ty's past liaisons and forget they ever happened. And you left because of a woman, captain. A desire to avoid Mars is a familiar story on Lunara. We're all to blame for our ignorance of what is happening, and we should find out, now."

Jan slapped Seth across with face with a terrific smack. "Don't talk about my relationship with Ty ever again! And Eamonn is not scared of this planet."

Parker worried Seth might do something rash, but he simply ignored Jan's slap . . . as if it was nothing.

"I'm stating what he doesn't." Seth gnashed his teeth. "We have been ignorant for too long, and the only way to get a crash course in what is happening around here is to investigate for ourselves. Jan . . . you agree something is wrong."

"You hate Mars," Eamonn interjected. "You can't be objective. Jan came with some evidence to support her claims, not gut feelings."

"Look at her head." Seth pointed to the gash on Chloe's forehead. "That is evidence."

Eamonn shook his head. "All circumstantial and construed in a thousand different ways. Mars has petty crimes."

Seth threw up his hands. "They tried to kidnap her. Jan met with Gwen, and she offered her skepticism. Gwen didn't relieve any of our worries. She is the best person to tell you what is happening on Mars, and she only exacerbated our concerns."

"You don't know what Gwen said to her," Eamonn said.

"I know enough," Seth said. "Gwen thinks there is something wrong, too. Doesn't she? Jan?"

Jan offered no reply; instead, she glowered at him.

Parker felt the crew coming apart and wanted to hold it together. "Stop it!" he yelled. "We are a team, and fighting isn't the answer. Even if we don't agree, the captain's orders are what we should be following."

Seth pushed his chest up, strengthening his resolve.

Chloe glared at Seth, but he did not waver in his stance.

Parker suddenly knew the real issue on Mars, and it had been in front of him the whole time. It was the crew. They were tearing themselves apart, haunted by memories that weakened their judgment and friendship. No one trusted anyone anymore. How had the invasion fractured them so badly?

Eamonn tightened his fists. "The government offered nothing but help to us. The inquiry team even supplied us with the locations of the rogue camps. If they said an invasion force was responsible, I can believe it. Why can't you?"

"What part about being suspicious of them didn't you understand?" Seth said. "I'll confirm the rogue camps' existence. I refuse to accept their word."

"You're staying here," Eamonn shot back. "Let the local authorities continue their investigation."

Seth balled his fists to match Eamonn. "I told you I don't trust them. Stop trying to force me to rely on their word."

Seth and Eamonn were both on their feet now, standing eye to eye.

Parker eyed Roche, who was ready to stop anything that might break out.

"I'm your commanding officer!" Eamonn shouted. "You aren't going to do anything."

"We are not a military crew," Seth said as he tightened his fingers further into his fists. "You only hold authority on flight missions."

"Don't do this, Seth," Parker said, wanting to defuse the bomb that was about to go off. "He is your captain."

"Stow it, Parker!" Eamonn shouted then turned to Seth. "Is that how it is going to be? You are pulled from the starwing and are fifth seat again."

"Demotion," Seth replied. "Very mature of you. Get your head out of your backside and look around. This crew needs closure."

"Only your paranoid mind needs closure," Eamonn said. "The evidence of what happened is in the minister's report. Why don't you read it again?"

"Just calm down," Chloe offered.

"Shut up," Eamonn said sharply.

"Don't tell her to be shut up," Seth roared, putting his finger into Eamonn's face.

"I'll say whatever I want to say. She is demoted, too."

Seth jabbed his finger toward him again. "Don't you dare bring your vengeance to her."

Eamonn slapped his finger out of his face and shoved Seth hard into the cabinets, which rattled.

Seth reeled, stumbling along the deck until his hand caught a rail. He lunged back at Eamonn, taking him down to the floor.

Parker wasn't fast enough to stop him and could only grab at Eamonn.

Chloe screamed as the two men rolled on the floor.

Quickly, after the shock wore off, Roche and Parker seized Eamonn and pulled him away from Seth. Chloe pulled Seth back as she was the only person capable of calming his fury.

"Don't you ever put your finger in my face again!" Eamonn seethed.

"What are you going to do about it?" Seth retorted. "Nothing, just like now. Why don't you call the local authorities to bail you out?"

"I'm done," Eamonn said. "I have meetings with the port authorities. Stop listening to Seth and smarten up. I expect all of you to be ready and satisfied for when we return to Lunara."

"We will," Chloe said in a weak tone.

Eamonn turned and left the crew cabin.

Parker moved over to the door and looked down the corridor. Eamonn was gone. As he turned back, he saw that each of his crewmates was staring at him. _Are they looking at me for affirmation of Eamonn's orders? Or leadership in undertaking a mutiny?_ If he spearheaded a mutiny against Eamonn, he would lose the _Protector_.

His eyes flickered as he focused on Chloe, worry nagging at him as he thought about the attack on her. He knew the danger was real and that Eamonn was wrong. If he took no action, the attackers would find a way to kidnap or kill Seth and Chloe.

Parker let out a long sigh. "We have to do something." He closed the door again.

"I'm going to the takeoff point no matter what," Seth said, seemingly waiting for someone besides himself to reaffirm the position. For all Seth's paranoia and impulsiveness, he knew how to manipulate the situation to his advantage. "I have to find out where the invaders are headquartered."

"But the captain said . . ." Chloe hesitated. "I promised we would be ready to return to Lunara."

Seth shook his head. "I'm going. Idleness creates trouble for us."

"Seth is right," Parker said. "We need to do this. I know it is almost mutinous, but I can't shake the feeling that Seth and Chloe are in danger."

"I don't sense anything wrong on Mars," Chloe replied. "I sensed in the ship the danger Lunara was in, but that feeling hasn't returned."

"Chloe, something is—" Seth said.

"Seth, quiet," Parker said. "Chloe, I can't stand idly by while someone kidnaps you and Seth. Go with Seth to Memnonia. He will protect you, and perhaps it will change your mind about Mars and what they are telling us."

Chloe pushed her fingers through her hair, clearly frustrated and vexed. "Seth's hatred has infected you, but I can't ignore your concern. My mind is full of doubt."

"Trust me," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Either way, you or Seth will be satisfied."

Chloe pursed her lips and then exhaled. "I will go with him, for you."

"Good," Parker said. "Jan and I will go to Aethpis, and Roche will meet with Gwen as planned."

"As planned?" Chloe said.

Parker nodded. "Gwen's plan was for us to help. I didn't expect Eamonn to ignore us and tell us we are paranoid. It is no longer his authorization but mine. I will take the blame if Eamonn questions any of you."

"We can't let you take the blame," Jan said. "We are in this together."

Parker shook his head. "Someone has to be the fall guy. I can do that if needed. Don't get caught up in loyalty. I know Seth and Chloe are in trouble, and I'm willing to risk my career."

"Shouldn't we protect them together in Trivium?" Roche said. "I don't like us splitting up."

"Seth and Chloe's trip to Memnonia is good for us. No one will think to look for them in the expanses of Mars," Parker said. "Plus, we need to do some investigating, so splitting up is our only option."

"Getting into security centers isn't easy," Roche replied. "How are you going to get into Aethpis?"

"I have some gear stored on Mars from my time here. My military days aren't far behind me, so I'll figure a way for Jan and me to enter." Parker smirked. "You have the easy one. Gwen can stroll anywhere in Zephyria and not arouse suspicion."

Roche nodded.

"What about the gala?" Jan said. "We have to attend. Eamonn will know something is up otherwise."

Parker checked his watch. "It's noon. We should be back in time to attend the nine o'clock gala. Plus, the gala is perfect timing for us. The security will be lighter since it's the biggest holiday in Martian history."

"We have a plan," Chloe said. "But the captain will find out eventually."

"Yes," Parker conceded. "But only if we find something. Otherwise we can pretend this never happened."

They all nodded.
Chapter 19

In Trivium Port's hangars, one level down from the _Protector_ , Chloe leaned her hands against the edge of the cockpit. "The report said the ships took off out of Memnonia Sulci."

"We are heading there," Seth replied as he packed the last of their gear into the rear compartment of the hovercar.

"Was Parker serious about taking the fall for this?" Chloe said. "The _Protector_ means so much to him."

"Don't worry about Parker," said Jan. She walked around to Chloe's side of the hovercar as Chloe jumped in. "He knows what he is doing. Mars has brought out the best in him."

"He believes we are in danger, and I trust him more than anyone," Seth said. "He will do what is necessary."

"He wants to be a captain one day himself, and this will jeopardize that," Chloe said.

"Yes," Jan said, "but Eamonn and Ty weren't always proper either. Leaders take risks."

"I guess it's part of the process," Chloe replied.

"Exactly." Jan tapped on the hood of the hovercar.

Chloe liked this edition. It was an older four-sixty edition, not the ship Seth would have picked, but it was the only thing she could get at short notice. She sacrificed engine speed and agility for convenience and durability. She wanted a sturdy build, and with sealed chemical heaters, the engines could handle the bitter Martian cold if temperatures dropped.

She was still angry with Seth. He hated Mars more than he loved Lunara or even his mother, perhaps even more than he loved Chloe. Mars had scorned him, and he wasn't going to allow the planet to hurt him again. She had to admit she admired his hatred of Mars. It was so damn consistent and passionate. Never in the time she had known him had he wavered, and she was amazed to watch the fire in his eyes as the red planet stared back at him now. He would not blink, not ever.

She took in a deep breath and smelled the xenon gas burn off the engines. She had a hard time imagining she could make Seth understand what his hatred of Mars was doing to their relationship. She hoped this trip would change his mind. Perhaps he and Mars could hash out their differences without any outside interference from the crew or the Martian government.

Seth shoved the last of their gear into the rear compartment.

"You should take a tent," Jan said again.

"I can't fit it," he said. "Our trip is for the day, and we'll only need tracking equipment and sensors."

Chloe felt Jan's mind ripple with worry.

Jan put her hands on her hips. "Leaving a thermal tent and heating units on the floor of the hangar is failing Martian Survival 101."

"We will be back by sundown," he replied.

"You are taunting fate with your callousness," Jan said.

Seth grunted.

For whatever reason, Jan tried to change Seth's perceptions and make him listen to his conscience, but he wasn't one to hear fate's call. His early fortune had been too cruel for him to listen. Jan was their _Guardian_ , but she had never seen Seth on Mars. Selfishness consumed him and worry gnawed at his psyche. He was a broken man.

With a final tug, he secured the straps. "We shouldn't be gone long . . . a quarter of a day. Are you and Parker ready for your role?"

"Yes. I have plotted the coordinates into the navigation computer. Your trip should only take about two hours, maybe three if the weather picks up." Jan looked at him with a worried gaze. "But the weather service forecasts clear skies."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you with my comments during the meeting," Seth said. "This is something I need to do."

Jan bristled. "My slap doesn't mean I don't still love you."

"I will always love you," he said. "I needed to express my point."

"Don't mention it again. Parker stepped up and took leadership for us. Someone understood our cause, so perhaps your words helped Ty."

"I'm sorry again. I need to teach Mars a lesson."

"Remember, it's a planet," Jan said.

"We will confirm the truth," Seth said. "And you will see the Mars I see."

"I hope so," Jan said. "You should get going. I don't want you out when the sun goes down, especially without your thermal tent. You are already pushing it."

Seth shook his head. "The equipment will record the hard evidence and expose the council's lies."

Jan crossed her arms. "Don't be so sure of yourself. Remember to inform Parker of your findings, and he'll take everything to Eamonn."

"I will do what I think is right," he said. "Eamonn isn't thinking clearly. He can't be objective about this."

"The burdens of command," Jan said. "He can only rely on what he is told. His hands are tied. If you bring him something, he will listen."

"I doubt it," he muttered.

"Are we ready to leave?" Chloe said, cutting off Jan's reply.

"Yes. Let's go." Seth hopped into the hovercar.

Irritated, Jan shifted her feet and proceeded to the hangar doorway.

Chloe hopped out of the hovercar and moved over to Jan. "I will look out for him."

Jan shook her head. "He won't listen anymore. He needs to find a way to trust Mars on his own."

"But he also needs to realize that his hatred for Mars can't supersede his love for me. I will show him the way."

"Perhaps," Jan said with a dejected look on her face. "You have to understand that it is too late for him. He can't let go of the hatred consuming him."

"I don't believe it."

"Then he might take you down with him."

Jan activated the release for the hangar door, and the plasma shield flickered. A slow rumbling sound echoed as the widening gap revealed the surface of Mars.

Chloe took a deep breath. She wanted to hug Jan but couldn't muster enough nerve. Jan's words upset her. To think that Seth couldn't release his hate wasn't an option to her. The rest of the crew thought he was lost, never to return; but if he ever was, she could no longer live. The hurt would be too painful.

She hurried to the hovercar and jumped in. She noticed that Seth's handsome face had tightened, and she smiled at him, sluggishly. In her heart, she knew that the man she loved was still there. The hate would wash away, eventually.

With a sudden jerky start, he punched the accelerator down, and they streaked through the plasma shield toward the vast lands of Mars.

The hovercar left Trivium Port at maximum speed, which for Seth wasn't nearly fast enough. The scores of rocks and the vast nothingness around him caused his uneasiness to grow as he put more distance between the hovercar and Trivium Port.

He veered to the right and checked for anyone trailing them. His radar spotted no one, but he stayed alert to the view cameras around the ship. In the back of his mind, he kept remembering how the invading force had tricked the _Protector's_ radar, blinding it to their presence—an amazing feat that still baffled Eamonn and Parker.

Chloe tapped her feet in rhythmic agitation beside him. "Can't you make it go any faster?"

"The throttle is resting on the floor."

"Let me drive, then."

"It's at maximum," he said. "This hovercar isn't a starwing."

"I'm worried someone is following us."

"I haven't seen any ships." He gestured to the navigational screen. "No one is on the map anymore. We're about sixty kilometers from the port now."

"I don't trust radar. Remember what happened during the invasion at Lunara." She was thinking the same thing as Seth.

"My eye has been open," he replied.

They looked out the windows, scanning the barren surface. If anyone was following, the many rock formations and chasmata would easily hide them.

"Do you think I'm paranoid?" he said. "The crew keeps saying I am, but something is going on around here."

"Perhaps . . . but perhaps not. Mars has been nothing but nice to us since our arrival. I have sensed no betrayal from them."

"What about the kidnapping attempt?"

"That doesn't mean some big conspiracy is in the works. The explanation the Martian co-government gave us is plausible enough for me. A small radical faction is trying to seize control of Lunara so they can make a profit selling the meteor stones. They probably tried to kidnap us in some kind of mismanaged ransom attempt, or maybe they just tried to get the credit chips from our pockets. They were awfully inept."

"So you agree with Eamonn," Seth said, sharpening his tone. "Why did you come along then?"

"I came to help you if trouble comes. We are a partnership, remember."

"I don't need to be patronized. If you didn't think we would find anything, you should have helped Eamonn with his paperwork."

"The report said the take-off point for the attack is there. Our investigation isn't about shadows and conspiracy; it's about collecting evidence for Lunara. With that, I agree with you. Lunara needs its own report."

He didn't object further. No matter her motives, he had what he wanted, Chloe by his side. He would protect her.

The hovercar streaked into the voids of Mars.

Chloe sat wondering, looking out toward the Martian surface. Rocks, boulders, and stones of all sizes littered the valleys. There was more of the same to the south. Unlike the north, which had green and lush algae fields, nothing covered the southern hemisphere. At least it seemed like nothing to her, although some scientists spent their entire lives studying the human influence on this void.

The hovercar veered, and red and orange dust kicked up beside her window, glittering for a moment. Was it metalor? She hadn't forgotten her experience in the hangar. As she touched the bullets, she had bonded with the strange substance, and without any delay, she knew where it had been and what it had experienced.

"Do you still have the pouch?" she said.

"Yes," Seth said.

"Let me have it," she said. "When I touched the metalor the last time, the molecules of the metal spoke to me. Told me a history."

"Spoke? Are you still feeling the effects of the concussion?"

"Funny. My head trauma isn't affecting me. I touched the metalor, and these feelings formed. A tangible dream."

"But you held the bullets for two seconds. How can you be sure?"

"Are you going to give me the pouch or not? There is no reason that you shouldn't."

He paused.

She sensed his pause was to contemplate her request and decide whether it was worth the headache to argue further.

He fiddled in his breast pocket, pulled out the pouch, and tossed it to her.

She undid the tie string on the pouch and reached in, slowly at first, wondering if the fragments would surge into her mind again. She massaged the smooth edges and felt the surprising warmth between her fingers.

Without warning, her head began to race. She groaned.

"Drop them," he pleaded, reaching over to grab her hand.

She pulled away from his grip.

The hovercar swerved, and Seth jerked the control sticks to reorient it.

"No, no," she said. "The sensation was just a bit overwhelming. I . . . I can't get used to all those images flooding my head suddenly."

"What do you see?"

"When I touch it, I see everything the meteor has ever touched or has ever been. At least in our solar system, the images started with the _Protector_ collecting them."

"Them?"

"They speak to me . . . the images are from three years ago. The _Protector_ doesn't have the gun turret yet."

"Are they clear? Or is it a dream?"

"Faint images . . . of the processing plant on Lunara crushing and moving these fragments to the mega transports." Her eyes glazed over. "This is amazing. The deeper I go, the clearer I can see."

"What now?"

"The technicians on Mars are hand sorting the meteor fragments. I can sense their emotions: frustration, boredom, and other sensations of the moment. Now the image is dark; they spent a long life inside a cargo hold. If I didn't know better, I would say they felt lonely. The box is opening. A face—"

Suddenly, she dropped the fragment back into the pouch. Sweat beaded on her brow.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, such hatred and deception. A mist covered my view but a face flashed repeatedly."

"How can you tell?" he said. "I know you can read people's thoughts, emotions, or whatever. Are those metal fragments alive?"

"No. I think they're like a recording device. But the loneliness . . ."

He pursed his lips. "The attackers of Lunara . . . they were probably after you this entire time. Hans Bauer knows you can translate the fragments."

She shook her head. "Let's not get carried away. They could be two separate incidents, and we are extrapolating something out of nothing. Remember, you and I lead a boring life. We aren't anything special, so I doubt Hans Bauer is trying to seize us. We would be dumb to think we are impressive enough for some solar-system-wide plot."

"Dumb. I am the one who realizes something is happening on Mars. The crew is shifting in my direction. Remember, Jan called the meeting, and Gwen encouraged her to investigate the colonies."

"So," she said. "Gwen hasn't been on Mars in two years. She doesn't know more than Eamonn."

"She is the chancellor's daughter. I think she knows something about how Mars works." Turning away from her, he muttered, "Maybe she should be here."

Chloe's lip curled. "I wish she was. At least I would find time to enjoy myself on Mars and be free of you."

"To enjoy a kidnapping? I saved your life last night. Don't forget people are chasing us."

"I can handle myself," she said. "This conversation is over. If you want Gwen to come next time, invite her. I am not your prisoner."

"Return to Mars then? I told you I don't have a problem with you finding a new life."

"I will look into it," she fired back. Her heart didn't want to say it, but the shackles around her arms and mind demanded that she speak. "Piloting jobs are easy to come by."

"Don't come crawling to me when Mars harms you," he said.

She looked down at his chronodisplay; they were two hours from their destination. For the first time in a long while, she allowed her mind to shift from Seth's emotions. She didn't want his anger invading her a moment longer.

The hum of the hovercar's engine was the only sound in the cabin.

"Chloe, wake up," Seth said, shaking her shoulder. "We are on approach to the landing site." He lowered the hovercar to within ten feet of the ground.

"How far are we out?"

"About fifty kilometers. We should land in about ten minutes."

"Take us up high."

"I want to remain out of sight until we know what we are dealing with."

She grunted her disapproval.

He ignored her and studied the navigational screen for an appropriate landing spot. To the north, a chain of chasmata, long and narrow, cut off any hope he could enter from there; the east lowlands provided no cover if they were to land within a reasonable distance of their destination; and the west jutted down an abrupt embankment.

Only one choice remained. He pointed to the screen. "I'm going to land inside the southern chasma. The morning chill has subsided and will provide protection from the wind and dust clouds. According to the map, we should be able to walk for about two kilometers until we reach the rallying point given to us by Eamonn."

"Can this rusted bucket get us out? I don't know if I trust the repulse engines."

"The ship might not look like much on the outside, but the lateral engine mount is in excellent condition. You chose wisely."

"I don't want to radio for someone to pick us up."

"Hold on, I'm dropping in."

The repulse engines kicked on, the hovercar's momentum stopped, and it floated over the mouth of the chasma. The whirling winds increased significantly, and he could barely hear Chloe offering her advice on how to land. The hovercar rocked violently back and forth, and he needed all his concentration to coax it down to the lip of the chasma. _This is it. No escape once I move in._ He throttled down on the repulse engines and descended into the darkness of the chasma.

The shifting air currents weren't as bad as he expected. The hovercar still shook violently, and the ominous walls loomed ever so close. However, the crisscrossing winds ceased and began to funnel down consistently to the bottom. At first the wind pushing downward disturbed him, but he kept the repulse engines level with gravity while using the down force as thrust to descend.

"It is a lot deeper than on radar," he said.

Her lips tightened, and her hands dug into the armrests of her seat. "I think I might have developed claustrophobia on the way down," she quipped. "Just land."

The sledded landing struts extended. As he settled over a clean patch of dirt without any of the loose boulders, he released the repulse thrusters, and the struts made contact with the surface. The cabin rocked, made one sharp pop to the side, and then gently settled to a halt. They were down.

"That wasn't your best effort." She smiled. "But we are together."

"I haven't made an atmospheric landing in a long time."

"Huh?" Her brow shifted queerly.

"Okay. That was the first 'real' one. I've only landed in the atmosphere in the sims. You should be proud."

"I should have been more nervous," she said dryly.

"Very funny. Put your breathing mask on, I'm about to release the hatch." He slipped his breathing mask over his head, looked over to make sure she secured her mask, and pulled on the release handle to the canopy.

A cold wind hit instantly, and a chill shook his body. He jumped out and moved to the back of the hovercar. He was too anxious to let the coldness affect him. First, the opening of the chasma, towering a hundred meters above them, caught his eye. The wind whistled around at the top and echoed down to the bottom, like rolling thunder. He shuddered as the cold finally seeped through and dampened his excitement.

He dug into the rear compartment, pulled out two thermal coats, handed one to Chloe, and slipped on the other one. "The controls on your arm unit operate the heater."

She adjusted her arm control. "These arm units are neat. They track the temperature, the navigation around the hovercar, and weather warnings." She tapped on her command panel. "I programmed in our hovercar's transponder code and uploaded a map. The cold appears to be our only enemy today."

"Don't forget," Seth said, "Martian weather is only good for about a quarter-day forecast. Predicting beyond is for psychics."

"Nevertheless, we should be fine." She secured the last clasp of her coat to the thermal suit. "How much gear are we taking with us?"

"A little . . . most of this can be left here to scan the surrounding area. The satellites are already connected."

She glowered at him. "Why didn't we just scan the area from Trivium Port?"

"For privacy reasons, the scanning home needs to be within ten kilometers of the origin. Martian laws for you."

"We've been on Lunara so long I'd forgotten about the orbiting satellite laws."

"Once again, the individual supersedes the security of Mars. Individuals who have nothing to hide wouldn't be bothered, while criminals are protected and will continue to cause terror and undermine the Martian government."

"The government serves the people, the people don't serve the government," she said, giving him a stone-faced stare. "Learn why Mars works the way it does."

He nodded. He knew he shouldn't pursue the issue further. She would fight him to the end for the rights of the people—rights that the government should uphold for the innocent. He couldn't trust the general population as easily as she could. He handed her the rest of her equipment.

"Your knapsack is filled with emergency supplies, a trans-spectrum binoculars, and short-wave receiver. I found a sonic pistol for you, too."

She gazed at him when he mentioned the pistol.

"Do you remember how to shoot one of these?" He tossed the holster to her.

She caught it. "Of course. Remove the safety, point, and shoot. Anything special about this model?"

"Not really, but I heard it kicks back harder than a standard recoil. Be firm."

He finished securing the hovercar, swung the knapsack over his shoulders, and hurried up the slope toward the mouth of the chasma.

The wind above them roared louder with each footstep as they ascended to the top. The climb was tiresome. Their feet slipped constantly on the loose rocks. If Seth hadn't committed so much to this trip already, he might have been satisfied with the satellite readings. But he insisted, arguing that something suspicious had been going on—no turning back now.

After climbing a steep slope, it began to level off, and they arrived at the mouth of the chasma as it opened the valley below.

She leaned on a boulder. "We have about a kilometer to go."

He pressed the binoculars to his eyes and focused into the distance, looking for any sign of civilization. From left to right, he scanned in a slow, sweeping pattern. No longer obstructed by the rock formations, he saw a small colony resting to the north, surrounded by barren rock lands.

He first noticed the wall surrounding the colony. Curving a kilometer in front of him, it hooked around and then curled back into the side of the chasma. Guards strolled along the top, and it didn't look as if they were paying too much attention to what was happening outside. No sign of high alert.

Inside, many people labored with menial tasks. One woman and child racked one of four algae pits within his view. To the far end, several men tugged on levered ropes as they erected a large shortage cubicle. He panned over. A dozen other people ran around couriering material for construction projects in the colony. His lip quivered as the memory of his own colony flashed into his mind. He missed his mother terribly.

"What can you see?" she asked.

"This colony reminds me of Orcus."

A nagging tickle told him that she had entered his mind, pulling at his memories of their old colony. He pushed her away and muted his emotions.

"What else?"

"The whole colony is visible. Few smaller buildings surround a central dome, which isn't even made of glass or metal. It's one of those nylon-plastic bubble domes. I didn't think people still lived in one of those things."

"Any ships?"

His face twisted. "One ship, at least a hundred years old. I doubt it works anymore. This colony couldn't have masterminded an attack on our hovercar. Let alone Lunara."

"Eamonn said this was the staging area for the real invaders. Do you see any fuelers or landing pads?"

He moved his binoculars to either side of the colony. Boulders, cluttered like a traffic jam, piled on top of one another, spreading across the Martian floor into the horizon to the east. To the west, they extended far until coming to an abrupt end down an embankment. It appeared closer than it did from the sky. No ship larger than his hovercar could reliably land there without clearing a patch away first. One landing pad rested to the northeast side of the colony, but currently it housed the rusted transport tub. This was something the poorer colonies still used, but it was so bastardized, he figured none of the original parts were in it. A mechanic's dream, perhaps, but not a ship involved in the invasion.

Behind the colony, several chasmata stretched out like fingers reaching into the distance. They were too shallow and narrow to house large cruisers. Still no landing port. He saw no indication of an area where one ship could land or refuel. His suspicions grew. Why had the minister picked here?

He shook his head. "There are no service modules to repair, fuel, or maintain such an operation. This can't be the place. Eamonn was given misinformation."

"Were the Aethpisians misinformed as well?" Chloe said with a bit too much doubt in her voice.

"They lied," Seth snapped back. "The minister and his people would double-check their informers." He lowered his binoculars and stared across the colony. "I don't think this colony was mentioned out of pure chance. The connection is down there, and I intend to find out what it is."

"What next?" Her face froze with worry.

"I'm going down there. Do you want to stay here or come with me?" Not wanting her to object, he turned his back to her and started to walk.

She ran after him. "Someone has to look out for you."

As they approached the main gate of the colony, the walls became more visible and took shape. Chloe ran her hand along the coarse wall. The wall's red was a mix of the surrounding terrain and swirls of the dark reds that were found to the north. She found it curious.

She waited behind Seth as he moved up to the entrance, but before he had the chance to knock, a panel in the door slid open. "Identify yourself?"

Startled, she took a step back, pausing to appraise the danger. Finding none, she neared the open panel with Seth.

Seth kept in front of her. "I am Seth Smith and this is Chloe Jones. We are from Lunara. We would like to speak to your appointed leader."

"Back! Don't come any closer, or I'll blast you," the young voice said.

Chloe was relieved when Seth complied and took a short step backward. Her worry clouded her sense of his determination. However, she suspected he would do anything for answers at this point.

"Where is your vehicle? You didn't walk from anywhere. No colony exists for miles," the young voice continued.

"We landed about three kilometers that way." He pointed in a direction away from where the hovercar had actually landed.

A pang of concern arose in her. She took in a breath trying to hide it. His lie might catch him. She knew that Seth didn't want to give away anything, but his lie undermined her trust in him.

"May we talk?" he continued.

"What is it concerning?"

"I am conducting an investigation into the invasion of Lunara Colony. I had hoped that your colony would give us information so we can figure out who was behind the attack."

The panel slid shut.

"Doesn't sound promising," she said, moving up beside him. "They trust no one."

"I am getting a yes." He rushed up and pounded the sheet metal with his fist. _Clank, clank, clank_ sounded the metal door. "Open. I demand you tell your leader we are here."

She pulled on his arm. "Don't get us into trouble. They might be former raiders."

"I no longer fear raiders!" he shouted. "I am getting answers." He pushed at her to keep away and turned back to the door. "Open up!"

The panel slid open, and the barrel of a rifle came out of the slot. The click as the gun was cocked pierced through the wind. "Back up!" ordered a man's voice.

Seth and Chloe raised their hands and moved away.

"I want to speak to your leader!" Seth said.

A different voice called out, "My name is Josef Vhortov. You traveled a long way from Lunara Colony just to visit with us. Who are you? Why have you come?"

The other man behind the door relayed their information. "They say their names are Seth Smith and Chloe Jones. I never heard of them."

Chloe stepped forward. "Perhaps if we talked, we could give you a better understanding of the situation."

"First tell me why you are at my doorstep," Josef said.

She tried to move in front of Seth, but he put his arm out to stop her. She met his eyes and mouthed the words, "Trust me."

He lowered his arm.

"An unknown group invaded our colony," she said. "We came to you, looking for answers."

"You think we attacked you?"

"They told us you were responsible. From the cliffs, and not to offend your colony, but we don't think you could have orchestrated the attack. We want to gather some information from you. Find out why they told us you were the attackers."

"My trustworthy doorkeeper said your ship was located somewhere in chasmata of Montrus' hand to the north, but you say this is not the case. You lied to us already. Why should we trust you?"

"Seth was only concerned about our safety. Hopefully, you can understand his reasons for concealing our location. I have no reason to lie to you. We came to the door of our accused enemy and denounced you as our invaders. Please allow us to speak with you."

Seth stepped closer. "We want to find out the facts for ourselves. I have had enough of the lies from the Martian government. Will you talk?"

"I don't understand the point," the man said. "We know nothing." There was silence for a few moments before the man continued, "But after you traveled so far to see our humble colony, I can't turn you away. You may enter, unarmed. My guards will lead you in."

"Thank you," Chloe said. She turned around to face Seth. "Let me do the talking. If I'm talking directly to them, I can get a better idea of the situation. I might be able to find out more than we can get with demands."

He smiled. "You got us in. You get us out."

The guard came up behind her, and she turned around with her arms out. The guard's rifle was level with her chest.

With a wave, he ordered them to disarm. Seth tensed, and Chloe sensed an uneasiness flow from his mind. She complied with the order by dropping her gear and pistol to the ground.

Reluctantly, he did the same.

The guards patted them down and found nothing of interest. The guard waved his gun, indicating that they should walk ahead through the gate.

"Your gear will be available when you leave," one of the guards grunted.

_That was a good thing_ , she thought as she sensed no deception from them. If they planned to kill them on the inside or take them as prisoners, they would rummage through their gear and take what they liked. Saying they would receive the gear back when they left gave her a more confident outlook.

On approach, she had an eerie sense about the colony, which reminded her of the pillaging of Orcus and the death of her family. The raiders—in the most general sense—had always been poor; they pillaged colonies for supplies. Orcus was a successful colony with few defenses; it was powerless to defend itself against the attacks. She didn't begrudge the fact that they wanted to survive. Survival was the number one concern on Mars, a constant worry in the back of everyone's mind. The raiders survived based on strength and force. Foremost, they took other people's possessions, instead of sharing or working as a collective. They were scavengers of everything and everyone. No one had been immune to them . . . until the day the Revolutionary War started.

Over confident, the raiders had attacked a few of the more prominent colonies around Aethpis. From what Jan had told her, a great clash turned the raiders' fate. Their confidence tangled with the Aethpisian obsession with security. When the battles were over, the Aethpisians had prevailed, and a massive, sanctioned extermination of the raiders began. To this day, no one had apologized for the obliteration of the raiders. Her mother had always been adamant that the raiders deserved death for withdrawing from society and the protection the Principles of Man provided. _No room for scavengers_ on Mars, she would say. In the end, they killed her mother, and Chloe always wondered if her mother's fear and hate was prophetic. After all, her own abilities had to come from somewhere.

Chloe set her teeth. Scavengers lived in this colony. The only scavengers she ever knew were raiders, and if any of them had survived, she might agree with Seth's loathing for a return to Mars.

They passed through the gates. Josef Vhortov met them each with a handshake and a pat on the back. "I thought I recognized the two of you."

She and Seth looked at each other, dumbfounded. "Have we met before?" Chloe said.

"No," he said. "I attended the Lunara invasion debriefing. Our colony is a member of the nonaligned council. We would like to help you, but I don't see how."

"They named you as the rallying point for the attack. Why didn't you protest this at the debriefing?" Chloe said.

"Resources. I can't afford to alienate Aethpis from our colony or we wouldn't survive long."

"But —"

He waved his hand for her to stop. "Come with us into the main dome. I hate wearing these breathing masks."

The domed complex was the central hub of the colony. Smaller buildings encircled the dome in no particular pattern. They looked like storage sheds for raw materials, but when Chloe walked by a row of units she caught a glimpse inside. Entire families lived in the worn-out sheds. Shockingly, only a double door system kept the air from escaping.

Plasma shields had been standardized almost fifty years ago, but Chloe's vague memory of the double door system crept back into her mind. When using two doors, one remained sealed, which ensured that no oxygen would escape. The sheds were feasible for short-term living or for occasional travelers but never as a permanent home.

Recent studies had proved the health risks of the double-door system. The constant switching of oxygen levels caused catastrophic physical ailments: loss of hair, malnutrition, and inflamed lungs. Chloe was appalled. "The double doors . . . how can people live like this?"

"Our colony survives on subsidies from the nonaligned council for our oxygen farms and iron ore sales at Trivium Port. We can only earn enough now to stay alive. With the innovation of metalor, iron ore isn't in demand. Less steel is needed in the building supplies, and our bottom line is hurting. You see, most of our population lives in our primary bio-dome, but we were overcrowded, so we retrofitted some of the sheds into living quarters. It is the best we can do."

"Join one of the main colonies," Chloe said. "They are always looking for laborers."

"But Memnonia is our home."

She didn't have to reply. She understood.

The entrance to the primary dome had three doors on sliding tracks, all set up in a row. The computer-controlled doors only allowed one of the doors to open at a time. They stepped into the first stage between doors one and two, and cold air blasted their suits, efficiently clearing all the loose dust. In the second stage, a converter turned the air to oxygen-rich levels. Once they arrived on the other side of the doors, they walked down a large hall into the heart of the bio-dome.

"Wow, this reminds me of my childhood," Chloe said. She grabbed Seth's hand. "Doesn't this look like the dome from our village?"

"A little. We used our dome for food growth."

In the far end, hydroponics tanks were stacked ten levels high; plastic tubing ran around all the levels circulating the water. The colony had set up living quarters in a similar way on the other end of the dome. The residents had a stationed cube, no bigger than five by five meters, and they were all arranged like a hive, the cubes stacked on one another to form what resembled a massive honeycomb.

"You grew up on a nonaligned colony?" Josef asked.

"Yes and no," she said. "Zephyrians created our colony, but we had our own seat on the old Martian Committee. We were one of the leading oxygen-farming communities on the planet until the raiders destroyed our village. We barely got out alive. I don't know if you remember Orcus."

Josef shook his head. "What happened to the people of Orcus?"

"The raiders killed most of us; my parents, my sister, and Seth's mother were among them. The survivors split into groups, some going to nearby colonies, some returning to Zephyria. We managed to get to Lunara."

"I am so sorry."

"Do not be sorry for asking a curious question," she said. "The tragedy happened many years ago."

They entered the conference room shortly thereafter.

Chloe felt confined within the bare walls. A rectangular table sat in the center with a dozen chairs encircling it. On the table placed in the corner, a display monitor and a pitcher of water rested. Josef took a seat at the head of the table, with Seth and Chloe to his left and a few less-than-dapper-looking aides to the right.

"So, how did you come across the notion we are involved in the invasion force?" Josef Vhortov said, pouring himself a glass of what smelled to her like alcohol. "Would you care for some?"

"No thank you," she said. She didn't begrudge him his indulgences, but it would be a cold day on Mercury before she drank it. She always associated alcohol with the raiders. They stank of it.

Chloe placed her hands on the table. "The Martian Security Force leading the investigation offered the information about the invasion on Lunara to us, confidentially. They told us the attack was staged from your colony."

"As you pointed out, we don't have the technology or the resources to pull off an operation of that size. Whoever supplied this information to your captain is either a liar or a fool who relied on poor intelligence."

"Why would they lie?" Chloe said.

"To stall us from something larger," Seth said.

Josef shrugged. "Who supplied your captain with this information?"

"The Aethpisian government and the Martian Security Force," Seth said.

"Thomas Cross," Josef said. "His involvement doesn't surprise me." His eyes hardened. "He is shrewd, cunning, and capable of this kind of deceit."

Seth roiled with anger. "How do you know that?"

Chloe placed her hand on his arm to relax him. His racing mind began to overwhelm her, and she needed him to slow down or she wouldn't be able to sense anything from Josef.

"He is the head of Aethpisian Security," Josef said. "In addition, he is the head of the Martian Central Security Force. If a threat from one of the nonaligned colonies was imminent, he would be in charge, and he would impose any force necessary."

"He did debrief us at the meeting," Seth said. "He could make up the facts without having anyone verify them. Why would anyone question them as false? How can we prove he deceived the council?"

"We can't be sure yet," Chloe said, looking over toward Seth. "These leaps of faith are good for brainstorming, but we need facts. Why would he try to mislead us?"

"Naturally, he has something to gain," Josef said.

"But why would he not show us the truth?" Seth said, shaking his head. "Mars would rally against the invasion force, so why—"

"Because Aethpis was behind the entire invasion," Josef said, finishing his thought.

Chloe tapped her fingers against the table. "We can't prove that. Aethpis has no reason to invade Lunara. An invasion force wanting the meteor stones as leverage against us is more plausible. The debriefing meeting allayed our concerns. I sensed no inconsistencies in their testimony. Our theories aren't any more believable than their proclaimed truths. Jinx, the council believes them."

"Not everyone," Seth said to remind her. "Lingering doubts remain from the council. Surely you sensed the uncertainty from them."

She nodded. Seth was correct about the uncertainty from the council members, but she wasn't convinced of the source. If she could have reached further into their minds, she would know, but only residual feelings from the debriefing and biased conjecture from Seth and Josef filled her mind. Thomas Cross's original report remained solid and plausible.

Josef rubbed his chin. Something about the way he rubbed the coarse hair through his thick fingers made her nervous, as if he was preparing for something he didn't want to do or say. His mind was still a blank to her. Perhaps the alcohol shielded him.

"My informants tell me that Aethpis has been stockpiling metals and raw materials for over five years," Josef said. "The meteor stones are tracked with coding numbers, which are molecularly bonded for identification. The auditors are missing almost a quarter of a million tons. And after this recent invasion, we must assume Minister Cortez has built a fleet to take over Lunara." Josef slid a datapad across the table toward them. "All the information has official electronic seals for authenticity. Lunara is far enough away from Mars to hold credibility with this information. Please give it to your captain so we may challenge Aethpis before it is too late. The confrontation can't lead to bloodshed on Mars."

"We have no intention of letting this turn into a war," Chloe said, looking toward the datapad. "Why haven't you disclosed this to the council?"

"Nondisclosure is safer for my colony," he said. "Our resources are too limited to battle against Aethpis. They would bury this information so far into Mars's crust no one would ever find it. I was holding it until a suitable messenger arrived to take it to the council."

Seth clapped his hands together. "This is probably why Aethpis blamed Memnonia for the attacks. They must know you had it and will do anything, including blaming them for the attack, to cover up what they have been up to."

"Why wouldn't they destroy Memnonia?" she replied. "Nonaligned colonies are rarely missed, and one smartly placed bomb could cripple the dome here. An accident."

"That is callous of you, Miss Jones," Josef Vhortov rasped.

She put her hand up. "Listen, this data is a little too neat for my taste."

Seth skimmed through the datapad's pages. "The evidence is signed with Aethpisian seals. These are impossible to replicate."

She shook her head. "We are looking from the wrong angle. We have to be."

Easing into the room, a guard moved over to Josef and whispered something Chloe couldn't hear or detect.

Josef turned to them. "A windstorm is forming to the west and is heading toward us fast. Windstorms can get bad out here. You must stay with us for a little while. They usually last a day or two."

"Not with this new information," Seth said. "We can't stay here any longer. Our ship will outrun the storm."

"You can't. They are too powerful."

Seth shook his head. "We have to get this information to the main colonies before the gala starts. It is the ideal situation for the minister to make his final move. All the top officials will attend." He stood up. "Thank you for all your help."

"You can't go out. The windstorm will tear you apart before you reach your ship."

"Our ship is in a sheltered area. We will make it."

Chloe wasn't so sure that leaving was a good idea. But she couldn't stop Seth fleeing into the windstorm, so she would stop him on the flight back to Trivium Port. Too much of the evidence was contradictory for her to believe any side at this point.
Chapter 20

At first, they set out toward their hovercar at a good pace, but shortly, as they ascended a modest embankment, a torrent of dust and pebbles, propelled by the storm, bombarded them. Seth leaned into the pelting gusts to keep his balance. The wind, like water running along a wood floor, was determined to find a way into every exposed hole in their suits, and it pained their bones with each step. Chloe shivered several times while Seth rubbed his arms for warmth. They continued forward as the gatekeeper instructed.

However . . . unbeknownst to Seth, they had exited into a labyrinth. They had taken a shortcut guaranteed to cut their journey by a few desperate minutes. He had expected it to take them farther down the path they had entered on, but when they left the shortcut, they found themselves on a completely different section of the lowland valley. In hindsight, he wished he were back at the main entrance to the colony where he somewhat knew the terrain. He twisted between boulders and rocks, realizing soon that he couldn't keep a line of sight with chasma containing their hovercar. So he used the cliff's face as the marker. He continued toward it, following his instincts, no matter how far the path veered offline.

Seth synced his arm controls with Chloe. The homing beacon jumped around. First it told her it was high up on the ridge to his right, but at other times it was nonexistent, and it was never down the chasma where it should be. He pulled them both behind a rock for shelter.

"I can't get a fix on the hovercar," he shouted over the howling wind. "Too much interference. We'll keep going. The closer we get, the more likely we'll get a fix on the signal."

She shivered. "I can't tell if we are getting closer. I can't see with all the dust."

"We are getting closer to the cliff. We'll be a fair distance from the opening, but the cliff will give us something to follow and perhaps some much-needed relief." He grabbed her arm. "Put your thermal coat temperature on maximum."

"Already done."

He pulled at the back of her coat, took out the hood from her collar, wrapped it over her head, and tightened the string around her breathing mask and goggles.

She did the same for him.

"That is much better; the air down the back of my neck was brutal," he shouted. "Once we get into the chasma, we should be a lot more sheltered. I am guessing it's only about half a kilometer away."

They went on.

The dust blanketed his vision, and the wind shrilled as if some mythological creature was crying in anger. The ground beneath them became more rugged. They staggered over loose rock and around tall boulders. Small, jagged rocks lined the Martian ground, and the sharpened edges bit into their shins as they stumbled over the terrain. Just when Seth was finding a rhythm in his steps—spotting the good footsteps from the bad ones—the Martian terrain deceived him. A loose flat rock slipped from under his foot, and he surfed down a small embankment. With a jolt, he stopped short and fell to his knees. He cried out, not so much from the pain but because of the frustration and misery the planet was again subjecting him to. His shin stung, and his ankle felt stabbed by a thousand needles.

"Are you okay?" Chloe yelled.

He grunted a positive reply. He tried to stand, but a sharp pain shot through his thigh. He massaged it.

After he had leaned on a boulder to help get himself to his feet, he attempted with little result to survey the land around them. The cliff's face hid behind the haze of the storm. He could only guess the way. He didn't want to trust his eyes anymore, not with the shadows and the mirage of objects created by the twirling sand. He pulled Chloe along, determined to get out.

After a handful more slips and a dozen more jagged edges slicing into his shin, out of nowhere the side of the cliff closed in front of him. He put his hand out and touched the wind-beaten surface, just to make sure it was real.

He paused to catch his breath, and a stab of pain consumed him as the one-hundred-plus cuts and uncountable bruises on his shins throbbed. With effort, he pressed on for no other reason than to distract him from the torment.

As they moved along the face of the cliff toward the mouth of the chasma, the path became more difficult. They headed into the wind, and the tangy taste of the CO2 sickened him. Each step felt like trudging through waist-high snow. Chloe tried to learn from his stepping mistakes and used his body as a shield from the wind, but he doubted she was even cognizant of the path or her steps any longer. He dragged her along behind him.

He halted, sensing her exhaustion. Squatting down, he pulled her into him. The nothingness in her eyes frightened him. A great lethargy had consumed her. He didn't need to be a doctor to know she couldn't survive much more. Her mind barely let her stay awake, her lungs wheezed with each breath, and her footsteps had become purely mechanical. In his quest for her safety, he was about to kill her.

He grabbed her arm and looked at the positioning beacon on her control panel. The signal gained strength. They were in the right position. Not much farther to the chasma, he imagined, but he wondered if he would be able to recognize it.

He moved on. After only a half dozen steps, Chloe, staggering behind him, was finding it harder and harder; she was getting even weaker. He turned and found her falling to the ground. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck to lesson the impact.

She lay face down along the surface, and he pushed her over. She was shivering to the marrow and virtually unconscious, mumbling incoherently. Martian dust covered her face and entered into her mouth and nose. Her breathing mask slipped to the side. The look in her eyes, the desperation on her face, and the limpness in her body all reminded him of his mother's death. He had kept her on Lunara to protect her, and in only slightly over a day, the cold hand of Mars had wrapped around her chest, draining the life from her delicate body.

Seconds later, fighting the exhaustion, she jarred herself awake, spitting up dirt. A wave of relief rippled over him, as he realized she wasn't comatose. But she wasn't traveling anywhere under her own power, either.

He picked her up in his arms, and once he got his balance, he found he could carry her without any extra effort.

For fifteen to twenty minutes, he stumbled through the unforgiving terrain around the base of the cliff. All the while, the wind bullied him with fierce gusts from all directions, kicking fine-grained dust into the air around him. Mars was brutal. Its teeth were drawn.

Chloe grunted, but he ignored her. She grunted again with purpose. A slight tug along his sleeve pulled his concentration away from her to where her glassy eyes were looking.

The mouth of the chasma was disguised, and maybe he would have missed it without her reminder. He turned into it, and instantly, the wind dropped to an almost bearable gale.

After a short walk through the dusty fog, he found a hollow along the edge. He placed Chloe inside and realized with a sudden overwhelming rush that he had spent his energy. He passed out.

Seth opened his eyes and found Chloe looking at him with her arms draped around his body. She moved her goggles to her forehead, and her deep brown eyes stared into his. "How long have I been out?"

"An hour or so," she said, smiling under her breathing mask.

"I think we are in the chasma. I didn't get a good look."

"Yes, we are. The storm is still over us, but this area is pretty quiet."

"We should get moving again. I want to get back to the hotel tonight."

"You want to fly in this?"

"We can decide that when we reach the hovercar."

She nodded.

After securing their hoods and goggles, they set out down the chasma. The storm swirled overhead, yet the wind had slackened. Though the walls protected them from the wind, the farther they moved down, the colder the air became. He expected the opposite effect, but the narrow passages retained the cold within the dense rock better than the open expanses.

"How are your shins?" she asked, rubbing her knotting thigh. "Mine feel like a watermelon without skin."

"I will forever hold a grudge against these rocks," he muttered. "My ankles have twisted three times each."

"I have you beat. At least five ankle twists each."

She twisted her arm to view the display. "The controls say we are three hundred meters away. It shouldn't be too much longer. I'll welcome the relief from this constant wind."

They continued slowly toward the hovercar, stepping over rock after rock.

Sometime later, with the cold fighting them the entire way, they reached the hovercar. A layer of red dust covered most of the back and the top. Seth used his hands to wipe away the dust from the roof and the intake valves.

Chloe stowed the gear into the rear compartment.

Once satisfied that the exterior was suitable for takeoff, Seth raised the canopy and they hopped in. He pulled the hood back from his face, and as he removed the breathing mask, he breathed deeply in warm, pure oxygen. He punched in the start-up routine.

The cockpit's computer forbade him from resting, flashing a warning for the next action. He entered the command code to power up the engine capacitors. While the computer chirped back positive diagnostics replies, he pulled his arms out of his jacket, slid it off awkwardly from his seated position, and stuffed it into the rear hatch behind his seat. Chloe did the same, and the cramped cabin became a little freer.

A final beep let him know the computer was waiting for him to start the ignition sequence. He rubbed his hands and then tapped the keypad, entering the coordinates for Trivium Port and configuring the system to plot a flight pattern into the high atmosphere.

The weather data trickled across the navigation screen. The storm hung in the sky at eight thousand feet. The hovercar had a maximum thrust altitude of ten thousand feet; anything over that and the air would become too thin for the engines to intake enough air for proper thrust. His goal was to fly between the storm and the hovercar's maximum altitude and allow them to travel in relative comfort—if they could break the barrier of the storm above them.

The navigational computer returned a positive flight pattern. Now he faced the hardest part. Would he be able to start the engine? If enough dust blew into the intake, he might never get the hovercar enough air to get off the ground. He pressed the starter button, and the engine sputtered and stopped. He tried again; this time the engine churned but then died almost immediately. Chloe crossed her fingers, and he pressed on the button a third time. The engine roared to life, then sputtered, kicking out dust, but it held the charge. He throttled the engine in short bursts to soothe it.

The engine ran. In the middle of a storm, he had a small victory. The power gauge moved forward.

An alert flashed, bright yellow. He cringed. "This hovercar comes with a safety module. It will take a few minutes to run the engine diagnostics."

"That's fine—it needs time to warm up," Chloe said. "The storm is getting worse." She warmed her hands under her arms. "How are you going to exit the chasma? The winds are probably ten times as rough as when we landed. Can you avoid the sides?"

The alert blatted in his ear. He smiled at Chloe and turned his attention to the computer. The control panel indicated the safety diagnostic had been completed, and the weather navigator suggested he should wait out the storm before takeoff. But Seth wouldn't allow the ship to win, so he overrode the controls and cleared for takeoff.

He glanced up out the canopy window toward the stormy sky. The chasma walls squeezed tighter in the darkness of the storm. He fired up the repulse engines, creating a rumbling sound in the cockpit. The hovercar moved off the ground, swaying back and forth. He retracted the landing gear, and for a moment, he wondered if it was all worth it to bring this information to the chancellor. Chloe's earlier demands for independence lingered in his mind, and he couldn't ignore the truth behind them. She was slipping away. His objectives remained the same, and beyond his original purpose to save Lunara, he wanted to prove he wasn't controlling or paranoid, to prove he was justified in being overbearing, and to prove he was right. The datapad showed the minister was clearly hiding valuable metalor caches for his construction of the invasion fleet, and more importantly, he was hiding the truth. Once Mars and the crew saw the truth, only then could Seth return to his life. Eamonn would see his wisdom; Jan would forgive him and understand his hatred of Mars.

But first, a Martian-sized problem loomed overhead. The chances of him slamming the hovercar into the chasma walls were high but not high enough to stop him from leaving. He could either play it safe and wait out the storm in the hope that the minister didn't act against Mars at the gala, or he could risk everything and expose Mars, edging closer to the paradise he had been trying for years to attain. He glanced toward Chloe, admiring her soft face and remembering it—just in case a mistake on his part caused a fiery wreck.

"Hold on!"

She did so.

The repulse engines fired at top thrust, blackening the ground below the hovercar. The chasma walls went by the window in a blur. He pressed hard against the seat, and the sensation that he was seeping through the bottom of the ship made him want to stop, but he ignored his fear.

A gust of wind and pebbles pushed down across the car. The patter grated on his nerves. The hovercar veered toward the portside wall. Almost blind with the shower of Martian dirt, he made minor adjustments to his control stick to center the ship.

Almost immediately upon exiting the chasma, the circling vortex of the storm swept the hovercar up and away. A few seconds passed before Seth realized what had happened to the hovercar; they had exited without slamming into the wall, and he decided, as he looked at the altitude gauge, that the hardest part of their ascent was over. The hovercar rose faster and faster out of the storm. The momentum gained from exiting at such a high speed had caused the hovercar to tumble into the storm virtually out of control. He fought with the control stick—against common sense and a desire to exit the spiraling hurricane—to lower the speed of the ship's ascent. The altitude gauge spun like a pinwheel, and leveling the hovercar at this speed didn't seem possible. Unable to level the ship, he decided to ride with the storm up out the top. Perhaps there would be more stability when they were out of the storm.

The hovercar reacted in protest, and Seth clenched his teeth. Buzzing alerts were ringing chaotically: temperature, altitude control, and low pressure in one of his fuel tanks. He managed to coerce some of the alerts to go away by pure instinct at the controls.

BOOM!

"Jinx!" He looked down at his alert panel, and to his dismay, more red lights were flashing than green ones. _So much for clearing those alerts,_ he thought.

After a quick assessment, he found the portside engine completely blown, with smoke pouring out the back of the hovercar. An alert for an engine fire blatted. The heat spiked on his temperature gauge. A plasma fire! Before it could melt away the inner hull and fill the cabin with a fiery pool of napalm, he shut off all fuel and energy flow to the engine, extinguishing it in the thin atmosphere.

Next, he tried to orient the hovercar, and he immediately became aware that, not surprisingly, riding on one engine in this storm was more difficult than riding with two engines.

Abruptly, the sun shone into the cabin of the ship. By reflex, he turned on the window tint and then moved his hands on the control stick to swerve the hovercar back into a position for their descent. He shifted the stick from left to right with the slightest of motions. Without the crosswinds from the storm, he managed, over shrills of protest from the hull, to tame the hovercar enough to reorient the wings back to level.

He glanced at Chloe. Had it not been for the dire situation, the expression on her ashen face would have agitated him: wide eyes, flared nostrils, and gaping mouth.

_Jinx, I didn't do that bad,_ he thought, and then glanced at the red alerts on his dashboard. _Well, maybe I have . . . but I handled the spiraling ship as well as any great pilot could._

"We got through the first part of the flight plan in not too bad shape," he said, to calm her nerves.

She nodded and tried to say something, but her mouth was too dry.

He continued, "The bad news is: we lost an engine, we are still rising, and I can't tell if our repulse engines are connected to the fuel lines I had to shut down to snuff out that engine fire. The good news is: everything else appears to be okay."

"What's left?" she croaked.

"Funny."

The navigation computer indicated they were almost halfway to Trivium Port, and if he could find a safe route down, they should make it back in record time. "We are fifteen thousand feet into the air now."

"You said that the engines couldn't navigate above ten thousand feet," she said. "How can we fly up here?"

"We can't. The remaining engine is gasping for intake air, but I'm more worried about our momentum on the way back down. The computer says we'll top out at about twenty thousand feet. But on reentry, I'll need to blast the repulse engines the entire way down to stop us from smashing into the surface."

"We are rising awfully fast. Don't we need to pressurize the cabin?"

"The ship has automatic pressurizing capabilities. I will get us down safely. Don't worry."

"I know."

The storm swirled with an assortment of red and orange hues that distorted the surface for miles in all directions. He stared at his altimeter as it approached twenty thousand feet, and the apex wasn't too far above the estimated total. The numbers started to lower, and he grabbed the control stick. "Hold on again."

He adjusted his orientation a bit higher to increase wind resistance and slow the hovercar enough to save them when they reached the surface. The engines offered no assistance at this point. They were choking on the thin atmosphere. He glanced down at the altimeter: fifteen thousand feet.

Looking out of the bottom viewscreen, he calculated that his forward momentum wouldn't take him into the storm again, and his navigational screen confirmed his conclusion.

They were falling fast. He didn't know whether to cut into the wind to slow their descent or to cut away from it to ride the wave of air like a glider to the bottom. Neither alternative soothed his nerves. He pounded his fingers along the control pad to get readings on anything that might help.

In response, the hovercar's computer buzzed back an array of alerts with a new pitch and cadence that sounded like a panicked child. He thanked the computer for the panic attack and silenced the squawks right away. No help there.

Eleven thousand feet.

He placed his finger on the repulse engine's start button. "Come on, come on," he muttered, "these engines had better start." He would rather die because of poor piloting skills than an engine malfunction. At least he could accept death if he were at fault.

Ten thousand feet: he pressed the button instantaneously. The repulse engines sputtered like they had on the ground. He pumped the button several times, and the engines sputtered even less than the first time.

He yelled out: "Cross your fingers again."

The engines churned and churned until finally, they roared into life. "It worked!"

The jolt to the hovercar felt like the hull had ripped into two pieces. His body jerked violently, and he pulled hard on the control stick to slow the rapid descent. The ground came quickly toward them, and he conceded a touchdown landing wouldn't happen. The ship not ripping apart would be a success at this point.

"We are going to crash land!" he yelled. "You will want to brace yourself . . . and get your breathing mask on." Whether she followed his instructions, he didn't know. He pulled on his own mask and secured it to his head.

In the distance, the lights of Trivium Port flickered, and he tried to orient the ship toward the port. He had no chance of making up the distance as the hovercar raced toward the surface, closing in faster than he expected. He tried to steer the nose upward, but the air rushing over the top of the cabin pushed too hard for him to control any pitch levels. Gripping the release stick, he pulled the landing bays open, and the struts extended into position. He wasn't opening them for the landing but to obliterate any kind of aerodynamics the hovercar was using to slice through the sky.

Suddenly, the ground was upon him.

With a shuddering, rumbling crash, the hovercar hit the surface. The landing gear fought back, springing the hovercar back into the air. He heard the shrieking sound of metal being torn from the bottom of the ship, and with a glance at his rear viewscreen, he saw the landing gear tumbling along the Martian surface behind them.

He pulled his arms inside of his chair, anticipating the next impact.

The hovercar slammed back on the surface and began to spin. The jolt rocked the hovercar, and the canopy flipped open. A heartbeat later, the wind caught the canopy and tore it from its hinges, tossing it clear of them.

Before he was aware of the canopy flying past the cabin, the bitter wind swept across his face, along with a million pebbles and stones. He wished he had slipped on his goggles. With eyes closed, he bore the pain.

After the initial surge subsided, out of the corner of his squinting eye, he saw a rock formation dead ahead. _This is it,_ he thought. They were about to be ripped into pieces.

The hovercar collided with the rock and stopped immediately. The next thing he realized was that he was flying through the air. He tried to find Chloe in all the confusion, but then, out of nowhere, there was total darkness.
Chapter 21

Alone in her apartment, Gwen sat at her computer terminal playing with the curls in her hair. Her screen kept displaying,

< _Connecting . . ._ >

She had sent a communication request to her father more than thirty minutes ago. Perhaps he was still mad about their dustup in his office. She would apologize; that was first on her agenda.

She sat back, let out a long breath, and skimmed over reports she had collected on Martian mutations and other genetic anomalies. She had been reading the same reports continually for the last five hours and couldn't understand why the information was so thin and sparse. The reports were dubious to say the least. They contained only rumors and news articles from the tabloids, nothing close to scientific studies. The hard evidence eluded her. She tossed the datapads across her desk, scattering them with a rattle against the floor.

Chirp.

After what seemed to be forever, her father's face appeared on the viewscreen. She said nothing for a long second or two.

"I am sorry for the way I acted earlier," she finally said.

He nodded.

"I wanted to talk to you about the medical shuttle that arrived on Lunara—before the attack."

"What about it?" The heaviness of anger riddled his tone.

"I—"

"You are just like your mother."

"Excuse me?"

"The ambition, the drive, the motivation. You got that all from your mother."

"And none from you?" She smirked.

A rare disease killed her mother when she was young. Her father took her mother's death hard, and for months, he wasn't able to look Gwen in the eye without crying. She remembered her mother in only a few flashing images and the fleeting warm memories of a few children songs. As to her personality and her views, Gwen had learned everything from her father.

"You should stay on Mars," he said. "A position is open for you."

"I like Lunara. I'm not ready to return yet."

"So I hear."

She frowned. "Your ear is pointed toward Samantha these days." _And not mine!_

"You believed in her. She is my best ally. But you can be."

"No! I'm not having this conversation again. You sent me to Lunara, and I told you I would choose when I returned."

"I thought you would return the next month."

She bristled. "Someone needs to keep an eye on the Zephyria property on Lunara, and I'm doing perfectly fine. While doing my job, I poked around the Martian databases on the subject of mutations and other anomalies of Martian and non-Martian people. Maybe you can answer some questions for me."

"What got you involved with mutations?"

"Just something Hans said when I greeted him before we had our little disagreement."

"So what's the question?"

"Why are so few records on mutations in the database? I checked in the Mars Central database, the Zephyrian database, and even Aethpis. A subject of this size should contain a lot more information. All I found were children's stories, novels, and early Martian medical records that were next to useless."

"The records might not be missing from the public database."

"Mutations from the Martian environment were studied."

"Perhaps not to the extent the legends lead us to believe. Ignorance is bliss."

She chewed on her lip. Nothing about her father's answer satisfied her. "The medicals records are still closed from that time period. I don't understand why. Everyone is dead."

"I presume someone sealed the records because the Principles of Man are clear about privacy. I'll have a few of my data miners search for you."

"Research papers and even medical records should be available to me with my access level. I did find a report from Mars Medical, signed by none other than Hans Bauer. Rumors of the safety of our industrial infrastructure from Castor Colony are upsetting the people. Several mutation-related documents were, suddenly and illegally, made classified. Mars Central doesn't want to upset the population with rumors and speculation about Martian safety, but taking the people's right to information is preposterous."

Her father pulled his facial muscles in. "Mars needs to keep the peace, primarily. We don't want the revolutionary days to return. Dr. Bauer is a valuable asset to Mars, and if you don't respect him as a man, you should respect his work."

Her father offered his usual political facial expressions and words. She didn't buy that excuse. She wasn't one of his political pawns. "Why are you supporting men like Hans Bauer and organizations run like Mars Medical? He is poking around, keeping secrets, and waving his authority. The Principles of Man can't be ignored because they aren't convenient."

"Darling," he said with a condescending laugh, "we need to investigate all types of health risks to our population on Mars and on Lunara. You know better than anyone else."

"Why are they harassing people? Shouldn't this be all voluntary testing? I don't like the idea of the government ruling people's lives."

"No one forced anyone to do anything against their will. Minister Cortez and Mars Medical ask people to take these examinations. Their involvement is voluntary. I would step in if any of this wasn't in the interests of Mars and Lunara."

"I guess I don't care for the method of asking. They used their employment physical as an excuse to conduct these examinations." She shook her head, then gathered a handful of datapads and held them up for her father. "Father, what I am trying to ask is, are Seth and Chloe under investigation for being mutants? Any announcement of this sort will make them outcasts or a public spectacle."

His eyes dodged her for a split second—a cue that he was hiding something from her. She knew he had to hide things from her because of his position, but she could tell when he forced himself to lie. Well, not lie, but withhold the entire truth.

"No one is under investigation for being a mutant," he said. "Mars has evolved."

"And if the press or the courts catch wind of the invasion of their privacy. What will Mars Medical do then?"

"Don't threaten Mars Medical," her father said. "You're an Arwell in name, but you don't have our clout yet."

"Perhaps it is time to garner some," she said. "Someone has to watch out for the people. For Seth and Chloe."

"Don't!" His nostrils flared. "They can send you to far worse places than Lunara."

"Is that a threat?" She caught her words. Was her father threatening her? Why was he concerned about the media? "I can fight from Pluto."

"Gwen, don't try to take on Mars Medical. Hans Bauer has the ear of the minister. You'll further complicate matters for yourself and your friends."

"And for you?" She stared at him for a long moment.

He rubbed his hands together. "I must go. I'll see you at the gala. We can talk more afterwards. Don't do anything before then. No leaks!"

"I understand," she said.

But she didn't. Did the minister have incriminating information on her father? She didn't see the logic from the minister's side. Kaelin was a good man . . . but politics has a way of corrupting the mind.

She pressed the disconnect button, and her father's image disappeared. More than ever, she had to find out what was going on.
Chapter 22

The trip to Aethpis Colony was uneventful for Parker McCloud and Jan Falloom aboard the _Protector_. Occasionally, Roche would transmit his status on his way to Zephyria Colony, but neither he nor Jan nor Roche were interested in idle chitchat, only mission comments and questions.

Parker guided the _Protector_ around the base of the Aethpisian crater, trying to find the landing spot given to him by his old friend, Will Dasher. He found the spot a moment later, programmed it into the computer, and sat back as the ship executed the landing.

His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten all day, and considering all the work he had to do on the _Protector_ , not to mention the mission he was leading against the wishes of his captain, he didn't have the time or desire. He reached over for a tube of algae paste and squeezed it into his mouth.

Algae paste was the staple diet for Mars, but he found the paste dreadful. The sweetening substitute in the green goop always disappeared after a few bites, leaving a bitter taste. But the algae meant survival, so who was he to complain to Algreen Company? They tried hard enough to make it bearable: algae chips, algae gelatin, algae crackers, algae pudding, and worst of all, algae loaf. He threw the remaining tube to the floor of the bridge, disgusted.

He sat in the captain's chair and looked out toward the darkening Martian sky. He swallowed the last mouthful of the gooey paste and thought back to the morning meeting aboard the _Protector_. Seth's insistence that Earth remained humanity's home planet resounded in his mind. Not many people believed that anymore. Humanity had terraformed Mars, and this was considered the pinnacle of human achievement, outshining anything people had accomplished on Earth.

The Earth had been a womb for humanity, nurturing it and keeping it safe. But Mars had tested humanity, inspiring greatness and accelerating intellectual growth. The Earth, an ominous gray sphere in the sky, was depressing, from the poisonous methane-rich atmosphere to the cloud of soot perpetually caught in the upper atmosphere. He still didn't know how Seth found beauty in it.

Granted, Seth had always been a dreamer. His secret obsession was to restore Earth to its former glory, and destroying the meteor cluster with his starwing was a way for him to do that. The _Protector's_ mission was more than a job to him.

To Parker, along with many other Martians, the sight of the Earth from Lunara was depressing. Its fate loomed over Mars. Would Mars be next? Where would humanity turn then? Those questions haunted the people and made them forgot Earth and concern themselves with Mars. The Earth was dead. Mars was born. No one wanted to remember the hardships of the past.

The _Protector_ touched down a short time later. He and Jan hurried off the ship with their backpacks held tightly in hand. He instructed the ground crew about the repairs he wanted done to the hull, which he couldn't do in Trivium Port. However, the repairs turned out to be a good excuse to come to Aethpis and complete their mission, and a cover to leave Eamonn in Trivium Port unsuspecting of their plan.

He didn't like deceiving Eamonn, and siding with Seth made him feel dirty and accepting of Seth's paranoia, but this time, perhaps Seth's overreaction contained a nano-ounce of credibility.

He turned back to the _Protector_ for perhaps his final glance of his ship. Many of the dents and dings along the hull were scars that reminded him of how the ship had saved him on more than one occasion, from the invasion of Lunara back to the micro meteor shower five years ago on their second mission. The _Protector_ had served him well, and he would always be proud of the ship. He sighed. He could be caught tonight at the security center and lose everything he had, but the gash across Chloe's forehead kept telling him he had to act, no matter the consequence. No matter what he lost.

He left the hangar and looked for his friend Will Dasher, but Dasher had already left for Trivium Port and the gala celebration. Parker wrote him a quick note of thanks, and he and Jan set off toward the Aethpis Security Center.

They started at a brisk pace. Minutes later, they found the main streets. Aethpis Colony wasn't as empty as he had expected when he disembarked from the train. Several block parties lined the more popular streets as the people danced and bellowed loud cheers.

The map on his display pad recommended a direct route, which he couldn't take because the main avenue was packed with overly merry partiers. He guided Jan through some of the quieter streets, while always keeping his course toward the dome of the Aethpisian Security Center in the distance.

They arrived a few hundred meters north of the security center and did their best to conceal themselves, wearing flat black coveralls along with dark caps, which kept Parker's hair out of his eyes.

Hearing another cheer and roar from the large crowd gathered in the square to the front of the security center, he smirked. The festive atmosphere provided the distraction he needed—without alerting the guards to danger.

He swung his head around as something moved in his field of vision. The water reservoir was behind him, and the reflection of light off the gentle waves twisted shadows back and forth along the ground. He released the tension in his shoulders and drew in a long breath of the humid air. The air, warm and thick, emitted from the reservoir, soothed his lungs and calmed his nerves. He scanned the area again.

"The canal is going to be difficult," Jan whispered.

"No doubt about that," he said. In front of him, the canal, carved the length of the reservoir, split them from the security center.

"Jinx," he muttered. "Besides being a run-off ditch, the canal is a moat for the security center."

"We need to find a way across it," Jan said.

He tilted his head up. Several pipes ran out of the reservoir and down the center of the canal above him. If he could get up high enough, he could climb across the pipeline to cross to the other side.

"You up for something daring?" he said with a crooked smirk.

"I'm here, aren't I?" she said in a more serious tone than he expected from her.

"I'm worried about you," he said. "I don't want you taking unnecessary risks."

"Let me worry about unnecessary risks."

"Fine."

He rummaged through the bag and pulled out a rope. He slung it across his chest and found enough karabiners to hook to his belt. He attached his sonic pistol firmly to the small of his back and slid three datapads into his breast pocket. The final touch was a pair of black gloves he favored for climbing. They contained thousands of pores, which hooked molecularly to most surfaces, allowing him to scale even the smoothest of surfaces.

He adjusted the microbinoculars on the building. If the security center followed standard Martian protocol, it would have a secondary exhaust system on standby in case the primary failed. All the secondary fans should be shut down and in hibernation mode.

"I see our entry point," he said as he looked up. "Up the side, there is a vent."

Jan adjusted her binoculars. "Pretty high up."

"We can reach it," he said. "The exterior support strut along the back of the building is our path."

"What about security?" she said.

"Sit and watch," he muttered.

For fifteen minutes, he stared at the security building, studying the guard patrols. No guards came along the outside. Sparse night with the gala, he figured.

No cameras were present, either. Under the Principles of Man, public places couldn't record, so he wasn't worried about them spotting him outside, and from every indication, Aethpis hadn't violated the Principles.

"Mars has been at peace too long," he said. "The Revolutionary War was too successful. Aethpis and Zephyria are vulnerable now, or worse, arrogant. Guards should be outside continually, even with a celebration such as the two hundredth anniversary."

"So what?" she said. "Advantage us."

"Let's go, then."

They dashed along the side of the canal until they reached a collection of several pipes running overhead.

Before he really had a plan on how to reach the overhanging pipes, he slung the rope over the closest pipe. He stabbed his hand out, caught the rope as it came around, and hooked it around itself.

He moved his prowling eyes upward. "Jinx," he muttered. He didn't see a way to climb up onto the piping. The handholds he expected weren't present, and the cylindrical pipe was shiny, metal, and slick. Even the pores on his gloves wouldn't be able to fasten to it.

Maybe . . .

He shook his head violently in protest at the image of him swinging across like Tarzan. He had little indication of how far the lip was on the other side. If he fell, the drop would provide a stiff landing and would end any hope of him getting into the Aethpisian Security Center.

The coolness of the Martian night blew across his sweating forehead. The idea was insane, not to mention a huge risk of garnering attention.

"Swing across," he said.

"I'll go first," she said. "Give it to me."

He handed her the rope.

With a surge, she dashed toward the edge and heaved herself across. She arched perfectly, let go at the top of her ascent and lunged toward the other side. Her feet landed squarely. She tucked her shoulder in, rolled to a stop, and tossed the rope back to him.

"Simple enough," he muttered.

She waved him across.

He set his feet to go.

Before he could stop himself, he rushed toward the edge, jumped with all the force his legs could muster, and swung across the canal. For a brief moment, he felt like a kid in the gymnasium, but soft mats didn't pad the drop under his feet. It was unforgiving concrete. He arrived at the apex of the swing. Letting go of the rope, he twisted his body to align himself with the other side of the canal, and squared his arms toward the sides.

He realized with a blunt obviousness that he did not have enough momentum to land squarely on the other side. His hands hit the edge first, but he fell too fast to brace himself. His chest slammed hard into the wall. His biceps flexed hard as he tried to keep himself from falling down, but the stabbing pain in his upper rib cage made him want to let go. He held on as the pain stabbed through his side like a dagger twisting and turning within him. With a desperate pull of his arms, he tried to climb up, and finally, after pressing hard enough, his gloves found enough traction against the concrete surface, leaving his body—save his arms—dangling over the edge.

A rattle sounded in the canal below. A smooth edge brushed against his face, and the rattle echoed from below again. He shifted his eyes downward and saw one of the datapads slipping slowly out of his breast pocket and careening down to the bottom of the canal. As he inched his right arm slowing along the ledge, the stabbing pain in his chest returned. He resisted the temptation to contract his chest muscle because that was the only thing holding the remaining datapad in place. His hand, creeping at an agonizing pace, was finally in range of the other datapad. He shifted his weight to his left elbow, found room between the ledge and his chest, and slid the datapad back into his pocket. He pressed the cloth seal and fastened the pocket in place.

His arms ached. A throbbing, burning, almost blinding pain coursed through his shoulders. He brought his leg up to catch the edge, and his toe caught the top, but his energy evaporated just he had got his leg up. _Where is Jan?_

In instant later, a hand grabbed his belt and heaved him upward. His leg muscles flexed, lifting his body and rolling him to the surface.

He had little to no time. Ignoring his weakness, he pulled the rope down from the pipe, a stabbing pain shooting into his chest with each extension of his arms. He secured it around his shoulder, and he and Jan dashed to find cover alongside the building.

He started to pace his breathing to slow his heart down. _Inhale . . . exhale,_ he thought. He stretched his senses for any sign that they had attracted the attention of the guards. None came—no footsteps and no shouts of orders. He saw no indication of security in the vicinity. Only the din of the crowd hummed in the distance.

Jan nodded for them to proceed.

Next, they had to climb up the side of the dome to the secondary ventilation shaft some fifty meters above him.

He led the ascent. The climbing gloves latched onto the smooth surface with the slightest of effort from his hands. With each pull of his right arm, his chest fought back with pain. He did not think he had broken his rib but rather severely bruised it. His equipment and his thermal suit forced his ribs to nestle into a makeshift brace. He could tend to them later.

Jan followed closely behind.

He gazed down and noted the decent progress they had made. They were almost halfway up the dome, and the climb became easier as the dome angled off toward the top. He continued upward until he reached a point high enough on the dome where the edge of the Aethpisian crater's protective rim around the colony was no longer shielding him. The wind picked up almost as if he had stepped through a door into a new atmosphere. The unexpected shift sent his body diving to the side. His left hand managed to catch the dome flush in the palm of his glove while his body slammed into the strut. He groaned so loud he was sure the crowd heard him. Of course, it was only fear talking. The wind and the distance were ample enough to snuff out any cries of agony.

Jan squawked behind him. She hit the threshold and was tossed over him.

He thrust his hand out and grabbed her jacket, slamming her into the dome, but his grip slipped, and Jan slid down the outside of the dome.

Her hands scrambled for a handhold, but the gloves weren't finding anything to grip.

He kicked his boot out, and with some luck, she grabbed the buckets with her left hand. He grimaced as her weight pulled on his hip socket. She pushed along the side of the dome and managed to get to the strut within moments.

"Close one," she said through the wind.

He adjusted his breathing mask on his face, then moved his other hand to the side of the dome and pulled his body into a more stable position with his legs holding most of his weight.

The effectiveness of the crater to shelter the colony from the wind amazed him, but he was also terrified by the unexpected nightmare. He shivered as the wind flowed through his coverall like icy tendrils.

Gingerly, he straddled the strut and maneuvered over to block the gusts. With a more cautious pace, he climbed, and the wind whistled louder, drowning out the boisterous crowd below.

The label read "Exhaust Panel 29," and the meter-squared hole was the exit point to the secondary ventilation shaft. Parker grimaced, realizing that climbing into it with the equipment would be no easy task. He tied off to the support strut, letting the rope take most of the weight from his arms.

The vent leading to the outside of the dome was sealed from the inside. Coming in from this direction would be impossible to do quietly without being aware of the finer points of the design. The _Protector_ had a similar type of vent. The ion drive's exhaust system for releasing gas into space was a smaller vent but essentially the same design. The key to getting the vent off was to feed two guider objects through the grille into the inside of the shaft. In the correct locations on opposite sides of the vent's frame, he could trigger the electromagnetic seal to shut down and pry the grille off.

Using two of the climbing spikes, he fed them through the grille. After plenty of trial and error, he located the trigger for each side. Unlike the _Protector_ , this design didn't line up the triggers with one another. The small adjustment might have fooled a less experienced mechanic, but he felt it and managed to slide both of the spikes into the triggers. The grille to the vent relaxed, and he used a multipurpose tool to pry it out of the holding. With a pop, he removed it, moved it up and out of the way, and tied it off on his support rope, letting it hang down on top of the dome using his foot to keep it from moving. He looked inside of the vent for any more traps or triggers but could see none.

_Mars is becoming too careless,_ he thought.

The wind shifted, and his foot slipped out from under the grille and rattled against the top of the dome.

"Enough of this wind." He pulled the grille back into place.

"Hurry," Jan urged him.

He slid off his equipment pack and tossed it down the duct. After another gust, the wind settled enough to enable him to use his arms to brace himself on both sides of the vent. He tucked his legs into the shaft and propelled his body inside. He helped Jan in.

To cover their tracks, she slid the grate back on.

Squirm after squirm, they slinked down the duct. As he reached a Y formation in the duct, he turned himself around. Slowly, painfully supporting his tender ribs with his arm, he and Jan traveled for some time until he came to the main ventilation shaft.

The din of fans filled the shaft with a thunderous echo. He put his hands over his ears and looked toward the bottom. The stale odor of the rushing air and the unexpected depth toyed with his balance. He pulled his head back, and his knuckles went white as he grabbed hard.

"The building stretches for some way underneath the Martian surface," he said.

"It does," she replied. "I expected less."

"It's double the depth."

The possibilities stirred in his mind; an underground research and development facility could be the reason or perhaps a data storage center. But R and D would need access to the outside to test all their creations, and a data storage facility so close to the reservoir would endanger it to floods, so neither possibility convinced him.

"Stop thinking about the depth," she said. "We're going to the minister's office. Let's go."

He nodded. According to Jan's plan, they would descend to level 10, where they could gain access to the minister's office. He proceeded downward.

After passing floor after floor, they came to a shaft outlet for level 10. This time, he moved in head first and pulled his legs in from the rear. He crawled as silently as possible, moving like a snail down the duct. This vent encouraged him more than the last. His tender ribs stung with any touch, but his ability to contort his body improved as time went on.

Five minutes later, Jan stopped him in front of a single unmarked grate.

The grate for the minister's office reminded him of the one located on the outside of the building. The two connection points for the grille to release were easy to spot on this side, and he tripped them without much trouble. The grille popped open, they slithered into the minister's office without a sound, and Parker crossed his fingers hoping they had not been noticed.

His head swiveled back and forth, scanning the room without moving his body or making a sound. In the far corner, the couch and table indicated without any doubt that they had come to the right office. Real wood table legs weren't easily obtained and were something the minister and his family undoubtedly kept from Earth. The door was on the opposite side of the room, and to his right, a large window through which he could see the crowd of people in front of the security complex. But the object of their quest was to the left of him, the personal desk of the minister, and more important, the computer terminal on top of the desk.

He crept to it, staying alert for any sound outside the door. Jan searched the rest of the room.

He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out his break-in card, and hooked it directly into the authentication input slot. The break-in card held a small decrypting circuit within that deciphered a person's passcode. He inputted the civilian number of the minister, and the card started to work. Normally, a good break-in card would complete in less than five minutes. Through their cleverness in getting into the systems, the slashers and hackers had convinced most computer experts to put more of an emphasis on physical security and create natural choke points in the hardware design of the network. The solution for security was to forbid anyone other than the proper user to access the terminal.

The weak point of the physical access terminals was if anyone managed to make it to a computer terminal behind the choke point, they would have free rein—as he hoped to have in a matter of moments.

The light flashed green, and he entered the system right way. He pulled out his datapad and began to record relevant findings.

INVENTORY was the first heading he saw. Most of the raw materials checked out as necessary projects; building structures, rail transportation, and ventilation systems were the main contributors. He recorded all the data under the INVENTORY header. Trying to get leads on further information in the computer system, he used the data sifter to look over the information returned using his selected parameters.

His search results indicated a large amount of resources—steel, glass, reinforced titanium, etc.—had been pulled into a storage location outside of the colony. But why? The question echoed in his head and faded without an answer.

After searching though a variety of locations and subsystems, he became frustrated with the search; he had found nothing that could link the Aethpisians to the invasion on Lunara. He recorded a number of folders for more in-depth analysis. Finally, he found a header marked, GALA UNVEILING. He pulled the data from the system and looked it over.

To his interest, an enormous subsystem lay underneath, detailing plans for a massive starship. The biggest starship he had ever seen in his life. The information he had been looking for was here . . . or was it?

The more he read, the more it became apparent in the design that the designers didn't lay it out like a military-style ship. The cruisers over Lunara were sleeker and mounted with a massive front weapons system. This design called for an extremely large engine compartment and several crew and passenger quarters. He couldn't discern a weapon on the entire craft. A few hangars contained security crafts, but that was standard on any large bulk freighter or transport vessel. So this was where the extra resources from Aethpis were going.

Parker's second and final datapad filled up. He wished his acrobatics across the canal hadn't cost him so dearly.

"I didn't find anything," Jan said. "He didn't hide any datapads around the office."

"He isn't that dumb, but we needed to check."

"What did you find?"

"Lots . . . I think."

"You think?"

"I didn't find our invaders. I am sure—"

The _clank-clunk_ of sheet metal compressing and popping back into place came down the ventilation duct. Swinging his head toward the opening, he stretched his ears, trying to sense movement. He heard small murmurs and a voice: "I found a rope—someone is in the building. Call down to security. We need a sweep team."

"Parker . . . they found us," Jan choked out.

He froze. The guards weren't as nonchalant or as inept as they had figured. He and Jan must have tripped a silent alarm along the way, and now there was no hope of escaping from the direction they had entered. They would have to draw the guards away and circle back. He crept toward the opening and positioned the grille back into place over the frame. When it snapped in, the metal made a clunking sound. He winced.

He took a step back when he heard a rustling sound and realized that someone was rapidly crawling toward him.

A voice called from the vent, "Hey, stop. Don't move."

He ignored the command, grabbed Jan by the sleeve, bolted to the door, and hurried into the lobby. The elevator beeped as he went for the button. Instead of waiting for it, he pivoted to the side and ducked along the side of the wall toward the door to the staircase.

Jan froze in place.

"Come on," he said as quietly but as forcefully as possible.

"Go now," she said. "Take the evidence to Eamonn. He will understand. They'll think only I entered the facility."

"I can't—"

"Go!"

Four men rushed out of the elevator and pointed their guns directly at her.

She raised her hands. "You got me."

"Anyone else?"

"No," she said. "Just little old me."

Parker slipped into the staircase.

Inside the stairwell, the security guard relayed orders from above Parker's position. Parker had already scampered down to level 8, doing three steps at a time.

When he reached the landing for level 7, the guards were hurrying around above and below him. He stopped. Time to leave. He swung the door open and charged into level 7.

The floor was deserted. The rows of cubes suggested this was the clerical level, and the employees would definitely have the day off for the gala. He ran around, trying to find the outside of the building . . . a window. He scampered down hallway to hallway, his heart beating faster and faster. Finally, he entered a section that contained windows. Clipping his hip against each corner, he rushed around the cubicles and down the lanes toward the closest of the windows.

Without warning, from behind a cube wall, an arm struck his temple . . . he bobbed back and forth to find his balance. Trying to process what had happened, he staggered a few steps forward, but his mind wouldn't allow two thoughts to latch together.

Before he could recover, the floor streaked up toward him, then there was darkness. He had failed Seth and Chloe.
Chapter 23

"Are you sure this will work?" Roche said.

"Yes," Gwen said, as they walked toward the main doors of the Zephyrian Security Center. Her eyes pierced through the darkened shadows of the cloak across her face. She was concealing her identity to hide suspicions from her father and security.

They came upon a card reader for entry into the secure portion of the building. Her hands shook uncontrollably. She was far more nervous than she had expected. With effort, she pulled the ID card down through the slot, and the access light flashed from red to green.

The door clicked open. She gasped, realizing that in triggering the door, she was making an irrevocable foray into the Zephyrian Security Center and thus betraying her father.

Her muscles tensed for a long moment.

"Go!" Roche said.

"I can't—"

Roche pushed her through the door, and they were inside the facility.

"Which way?" Roche said, walking down a hallway.

"Not sure," she said.

"Do you have any idea what we are looking for?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "No," she said. "But I think we should look in the sublevels."

"That will limit our escape opportunities," he said. "We haven't tried the top level yet. The offices of the people in charge will be up there."

"No. We are more likely to find hard evidence in the sublevels." With some effort, she recalled the layout of the facility. "This building is on the far side of the colony in Dome 3 and built on a ridge. The sublevels are set down into the ground, but the east side of the building runs along the edge. So we should be able to escape along the edge and scale up toward our hovercar."

"But—"

Not listening to him any further, she moved toward the elevator. She swiped the card and entered "S1" into the panel. "Quick, come inside. I got access to sublevel one."

He followed.

The click to the door signaled their arrival in sublevel 01. To their surprise, when the door parted, four blank walls greeted them. The room was empty. The light shone brighter than in the standard levels. The walls were stark white with no shading to break up the monotony of it: no furniture, no wall hangings, no ceiling tiling or seals. There was only a single door, with a shiny nickel knob, positioned to the opposite side of the elevator. In the middle of the floor, a tiled symbol of Zephyria rested.

Gwen and Roche inched quietly into the room. The only sound was that of their boots hitting the polished floor.

"Creepy, no cameras, nothing at all," he wondered aloud. "Only the door."

"Should we enter?" she said, a part of her still apprehensive. The part that thought she was betraying her father.

"Use the ID card on the other door."

She hurried over to it and scanned the wall around her. "I don't see a slot for the card. Perhaps there is a flip panel on the frame. Check."

He did so and found nothing. "Try waving the access card around the knob. It might be a touchless scanner."

She did and the door clicked. They had entry, but she felt an even greater weight on her shoulders.

Judging by the room, security would monitor her entry and guards would be close behind in an attempt to capture them. Would her universal card provide enough anonymity to elude her father's scrutiny? She hoped it would, but she planned to get in, find the information, and get out before they could respond. Her only hope was that security had been reduced here and shifted to the gala.

Beside her, Roche reached out and grasped her hand tightly, yet with a sense of comfort, which told her she would not be alone.

Without thinking further, she moved into the corridor, and he followed.

The stillness of the sublevel and the faint ammonia scent rippled goose bumps up her arm. When they entered their fourth corridor, she knew she found something. Enclosed in the upper half of the wall, the wrong side of a one-way pane of glass blocked their view into the adjoining room. A faint glow of orange pushed out into the hallway. The strong pungent scent of ammonia strengthened.

She crouched along the wall.

Scuttling along the floor, making sure she didn't allow herself to be visible on the other side of the window, she crept toward the middle of the corridor where the door was located. No sound came from the room to indicate that they had detected her.

Her hackles rose. She hadn't seen a single person in the facility. Her intuition said she should escape, and _fast_ , because something wasn't right. Security should have responded to their access to the sublevels, but she hadn't sensed a sign of them. She almost wondered if the Zephyrians had abandoned this level, and security was laughing at them. She pulled her cloak tighter across her face, wiped her damp palms against her pants, and pushed her sonic pistol toward her face, readying for a strike.

She inched toward the door, putting her hand down to balance herself, feeling the cool, smooth surface of the tiled floor. She peeked inside the open door and saw no one inside the main room. Sliding over to the other side of the door, she scanned the room. It was definitely empty. She stood and paused at the doorway. Thoughts of her father swam in her mind. Betrayal of his government might result in a more serious punishment than being sent to Lunara. What would he do to her next? Disown her?

"Gwen," Roche said. "Snap out of it. Remember the crew."

"Yes," she said. _Of course, the Protector means more to me now than his opinion. Seth wanted answers, and I wanted to help_.

She stepped into the room.

In the laboratory's main area, banks of computers lined one of the walls, while another wall contained a row of cabinets. The large laboratory contained many medical devices, and a distinct bubbling noise came from an orange liquid circulating inside a series of four tanks. The smell of ammonia intensified, forcing her hand to her nose. Her throat tightened, suffocating her breath.

After a few moments, the sensation passed.

Beside the tanks were two operation tables with leg, arm, and head restraints. Her mouth gaped. Immediately, she retrieved her digicam and snapped several pictures to record what she knew she couldn't describe later without proof. What the room showed didn't happen on Mars, not the Mars her family envisioned. No human experimentation. People protected one another, and they protected their planet. Fear coursed through her heart, beating it faster. She purposefully paused to slow it.

Her throat was dry, and as she swallowed, she felt a gravelly pain. "I found something here . . . human experimentation . . . but I can't tell for what."

"Why is _this_ in a security center?"

"Roche, I find it hard to believe you don't understand that government is usually more than you see or are told. This is a research facility as well, but I had no idea it was this kind of research."

"Come look at this." He stood beside an opened cabinet. "I found the pendant and a couple of uniforms."

She rushed over and grabbed it out of his hand. After looking at it front and back, she muttered, "This has Aethpisian markings . . . this bird. Just like the one on the video and the one similar to Kyle's." She thought for a moment. "What are Aethpis markings doing in a Zephyrian security center?"

Her mind raced. Hans and Dakota wanted Seth and Chloe as prisoners.

"Let's not find them guilty yet," she said, wanting to keep an open mind for the benefit of her father. "We should search the computer system. Maybe that will give us some clues to the mystery."

She moved over to the desk and inserted the card into the authentication input slot. "This shouldn't take long. So Parker wanted us to go against the captain's wishes."

"He was right," Roche said. "He's sure that Seth and Chloe are in danger."

"And the captain believes I am in danger. My father thinks so, too."

"So Parker is wrong?"

She shook her head. "No, he is more right than my father or Eamonn. It only makes sense that they are in danger and not me. With my profile, I would be quietly kidnapped during the night, taken to a hangar, and shipped out on the next freighter before anyone found out."

"What did Hans Bauer do that was so terrible? You and Parker are really sure he did something wrong."

"It is circumstantial, but he abused his power."

Roche nodded. "Parker doesn't tolerate government strong-arming."

"Which seems so strange, with his military service and his upbringing on Trivium."

"He had some pretty wild stuff happen to him when he served in North Tharsis," Roche said. "He doesn't talk about it. I think it is classified, but he was a hero there."

Gwen nodded. "I read the report when I was prepping to serve on the _Protector_. He fought for the miners against Aethpisian rule and laws. An administrator was abusing miners' work rights, and he lead a revolt against the corruption. They stripped him of his combat status, but he was allowed to transfer into military engineering. Ending any hope for him to run a unit or move up in the ranks to captain or higher."

"I knew there was more to him than a simple wrench head."

"A lot more." She paused for a moment, thinking about the operation tables in the back room. Had Parker been right about Seth and Chloe being the targets? Or were the two tables a coincidence? This was Zephyria, and her father wouldn't sanction such actions.

"Do you think those two operation tables were meant for Seth and Chloe?" Roche said.

She shook her head. "They might be, but this is Zephyria."

"You know what this means, don't you?" he said.

"What?"

"Seth was right. Jinx. Seth was right."

"I know," she said. "We should have listened." Seth's intuition was correct, and she wondered if Chloe's senses were a part of him, too. Perhaps his gifts were more than physical ones.

"Jinx," she said. "By now, I should trust his feelings."

"You couldn't guess this . . . especially when it is your own father."

"No!" she screamed. "He isn't involved! We are looking at this all wrong."

"You can't deny—"

"I'm in. The computer system will tell us more," she said. A terror rippled across her skin. Her father had to be innocent, or her world would crash, and no amount of rationalizing would pacify her.

She perused the files. Hundreds of headings lay inside the system, but only a few caught her attention right away. She opened the one marked SETH and CHLOE.

Her eyes hardened as she read though the file.

CHLOE JONES displays exceptional gifts of the mind . . . SETH SMITH displays exceptional gifts of healing and strength . . .

She reached for her breast pocket and pulled out a datapad to record the information on the screen. "We can read this later. We don't have time, and I'm sick with worry. Where is security?"

"We need to warn Seth and Chloe."

"I know. If they ever get hold of either of those two, they will be in some serious trouble," she agonized.

Flipping through the files, she found even more folders on the experimentation on other people and the results, which were mostly unsuccessful. The rest displayed the blueprints of the cruiser-class ships that had attacked Lunara, specs for other smaller aircrafts, and an entire header detailing the attack on Lunara. She recorded everything she thought important. They used six datapads in all.

"We have to get this information out of here, or Lunara will continue to be at risk," she said.

Before he could reply, a loud crash rocked the computer terminal, and it fell off the desk to the floor. Roche grabbed her by the waist and slung her toward the laboratory staircase.

Bullets sprayed into the wall behind them.

Rolling over onto his side, Roche drew his gun and fired several shots toward the open door.

The scent of burnt sonic-fire overrode the ammonia.

Gwen staggered along the floor. She hadn't expected this violent turn of events. Her tumble had knocked her cloak off, and she immediately pulled it back over her head.

"Gwen!" Roche barked. "Grab the knapsack and head down the stairs."

"Not my name!" she shouted but did as instructed.

Roche huddled on the fourth step leading into the laboratory. He peeked over the steps, listening for movement from the attackers in the hallway, and returned fire randomly toward the doorway, trying to move the three guards he had seen through the one-way glass back down the corridor.

The loud report of the shots rang out in the confined room.

A surge of panic flowed through Gwen. Roche wouldn't be able to hold off too many of them with one sonic pistol, which was rapidly running out of ammo.

Roche unclipped a smoke grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and threw it toward the doorway.

POOF!

Several people coughed, at least five of them.

Fright quickened her breaths. They had caught her now. Her father would disown her.

Roche's resolve hadn't ended. He pushed her farther into the laboratory area, strengthening her.

She swiveled her head, searching for an exit.

Roche's eyes darted around the room. "Do you see anything? They'll be coming shortly."

She found a vent on the far side of the room. Rushing over, she struggled to get it off. She kicked the dense metal several times. It didn't budge. She yanked on the frame, severing fingernails. Blood appeared on the floor.

He dashed toward her and thrust his foot into the grate. A bang and then a pop echoed through the laboratory. Awkwardly, he teetered on his right leg as he extended his left leg high inside the vent. He yanked his leg back, ripping the remaining bars from the frame.

"You should be able to fit!" he yelled.

She studied the hole and realized that although she might fit into it, he would not. _What was he thinking?_

With surprising force, Roche pushed her to her knees. "Go, I said—get the information into the right hands. There is no time for me."

The guards' footsteps echoed from the main room as they made their way toward the laboratory. She looked at him with an expression of pride and gratitude; she knew she could never repay him for what he was about to do.

"Please, go now, Gwen," he said forcefully, and he turned away and fired toward the staircase. She squeezed her way through the damaged grate, knowing that Roche would die.

Blood oozing from her elbows and shins, Gwen crawled at a frantic pace down the air ducts, trying to find an exit point. She had gone upward a number of times, always taking the duct that led her to higher ground. She figured the higher she went, the more likely she would be to find a way out.

"Roche is dead," she kept repeating to herself. "Get to Eamonn."

Cool air rushed down the ducts, strengthening her with each choice she made to move upward. In this case, cold meant she was closer to the surface and an exit point. She slid her hand down her side, retrieved her breathing mask, and slipped it on over her face. She pulled her cloak tight against her face. The increasing air current guided her toward the outlet for the building.

When she found she could stand up, she increased her pace.

Halfway up an ascending duct, out of the shadows, two Zephyrian guards crept like wraiths across the tunnel in front of her. But they didn't turn toward her. Their preoccupation with the large paths she had already been down hid her for now. She hugged the wall to her right. With one glance, the guards would spot her, and with one scuffle of her feet, they would hear her. Her only way out was to double back.

The guards passed from her view.

She crept backward and wondered how many guards were scouring the area for her. If too many were slinking about, she would never be able to avoid them all. She had to hope that because of the gala, only a few remained. Anyway, she had to hurry.

After circling back and moving down quite a ways, she entered a larger chamber where a dozen ducts joined at a single exhaust.

The roar of the air pulling through the filter deafened her.

She held her hands to her ears and swore viciously. The main exhaust, equipped with a massive air filter and a grilled framework, separated her from the surface. She heaved her shoulder against it, but the rigid metal wouldn't give. She growled, frustrated that she was barricaded in, less than a meter separating her from freedom.

As she walked round the exhaust hub looking for a way to get out, she grabbed at her breast pocket to make sure the datapads hadn't slipped out. All six remained nestled neatly together. She had to get them to Eamonn. She owed it to Roche now. In addition, Seth and Chloe needed a warning, Lunara was under siege, and Jan and Parker counted on her.

Yet her father's inevitable discovery of her betrayal weighed on her the most. She would have to betray him. Something she never imagined possible. She chewed on her lip, hoping to wake herself from the nightmare.

She looked back and forth along the grate for an exit portal or any possible way out. The grate's iron grilles, spaced about a quarter of a meter apart, prevented her from squeezing through. No way out. She kicked the grate, accomplishing nothing other than hurting her foot.

She kicked again, but this time in between the grilles, aiming at the filter. The filter crumbled like polystyrene foam. She clawed at the hard foamy substance and managed to break off a waist-sized hole. Wind burst through, ripping and pushing the filter inwards and sending her back in retreat. The funneling gust blew her hair across her face, and she tightened her cloak.

Sensing no further danger, she edged toward the hole. Through it, the surface of Mars stretched several hundred meters below.

She had punched through the foam filter easily enough, but how could she get around the grate? Her hips and her butt were wide enough to squelch any ideas of worming her way past, especially with a cliff on the other side.

She spun around, searching for answers. The rush of air through the filter deafened any sounds coming down the tunnels around her. The pursuers hadn't caught up with her, or at least they hadn't shown themselves. She had a little time to think about her escape.

She scanned overhead for a ladder or any crawl spaces. Following a larger pipe toward the grate, she found her way out. A hole the size of a packing box was located in the grate at the top.

Without hesitation, she climbed to the top and discovered the reason for the hole. The large pipe had a cap just before it hit the grate. The pipe should have extended out of the building and up the ridge, but instead, the engineers had cut the unfinished end short of the intended destination. Even Zephyria had its budget shortfalls and still had unfinished infrastructure.

The square section cut out of the grate was about her size, and she didn't doubt she would fit through. Using her elbow, she bashed at the filter and made a big enough hole. The cold wind surged, fighting her efforts. She squeezed her legs through the opening, wiggling her waist through the hole and kicking her legs, trying to feel for the grate on the other side. Her foot hit the grate. Once she established her balance on the other side, the rest of her body followed. She tucked her arms in, tilted her head to the side, and made it through.

Now out on the ridge and out of the security center, she realized her options were still limited. Her escape route was devastatingly difficult. From the impossible angle up to the over two-hundred-meter drop below her, the ridge provided no tactile advantage for her. First, the climb up would be difficult on her weakening arms, and the climb down would most likely end with a tragic fall. Even if she managed to reach the bottom, the Martian night would come and turn her into a popsicle.

She chose to go up, tired or not. She had committed to this plan.

To her left, a drainage pipe ran to the side of the grate. She slid over to it and inspected its condition. The Martian weather had rusted the bolts to almost dust, and she waned in her desire to continue, skeptical as to whether it would hold her weight.

The wind howled hard against her cloak, pushing and pulling her in every direction. Soon enough, a large gust would pull her away like a kite. She slipped her arms out of the cloak and let it tumble to the bottom. Her hair, pinned against her head, came undone and whipped across her face as the wind caught it. She had never felt so exposed.

_Pfsst! Pfsst! Pfsst!_ Tiny perforations began to form in the foam. She could not hear the gunshots over the roaring gusts, but she knew they were shooting at her from inside.

She ignored the danger of dangling hundreds of meters from certain death on a rusted and corroded pipe. With a burst of energy, she slung her hands onto the pipe and moved up. Her arms ached from the effort as she pulled herself upward. A pipe she would not have trusted to hold a bag of fruit was the only thing separating her from death.

As she ascended, hand over hand, she struck a balance between the need to maintain a good pace and the necessity of stopping rusted junk from shaking the support bolts. With each pull of her arms, the bolts churned rock particles, destroying the last remaining hand grips to the ridge's face.

_Ping! Pang! Ping!_ She stopped and looked down. A bolt tumbled down the side of the ridge and abruptly stopped at the bottom. Perhaps futilely, she adjusted her footing to lessen the weight on her hands. _So far the pipe has supported me,_ she reminded herself. If she kept a constant but controlled pace, she would be up in a matter of a dozen arm heaves.

She pressed on, and with ten arm slings upward, she reached the top.

She rolled onto the surface. After a few moments, she regained her bearings. The breeze, running toward the ridge, kicked dust into her face. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

"Get the data to Eamonn," she muttered.

Despite the mounting numbness in her arm muscles from the climb, she managed to push herself to one knee. She scanned along Dome 3 in front of her. To her right, she immediately recognized the rock formation with the four jagged spears cutting into the sky, the landmark to the hovercar.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and quickly spotted a guard in the distance. At the same moment, he spotted her. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she took off running as bullets kicked up a trail behind her.

Long blue streaks whizzed in front of her face. This time, unlike when they escaped from Lunara, the attackers were shooting to kill. The stones crunched under her feet. Her hovercar came more into view, and she would beat the guard to it. But she cursed, realizing the safety check needed to run before she could take off. She reached into her pocket for the remote control for the canopy, fumbling it between her fingers to the ground.

She needed that remote. Skating along the loose gravel, she slid to a stop, took a step backward, and scooped it up. She pivoted back, her leg muscle burning from the sudden contraction, and continued toward the hovercar. Bullets flew past her again.

Several long strides later, she arrived at the hovercar. Glancing over her shoulder, she could not see the guard and guessed that he was hiding behind the rock formation to her left, several meters away. The streaking bullets had stopped.

She stooped behind the hovercar. She couldn't escape without the security guard seeing her, and her fame made her identity recognizable to everyone. Her father would find out. She realized that getting to the hovercar was no longer an option.

She shivered as the cold began to overtake her adrenaline. _Roche is dead._ She had to stop thinking about him. It was time for action, not grief, she told herself. The guard was closing in on her hovercar. The information in her breast pocket was the key to making Eamonn and Aethpis realize this had all been a charade. The evidence implicated her father in something she didn't entirely understand. She couldn't believe he would be behind the attack on Lunara, yet the evidence seemed conclusive. Was he being set up? Eamonn might show the Aethpisians, and if her father was indeed the leader of the conspiracy, she would be outcast from the Arwell legacy forever.

Beside her, the guard popped out of the rocks and stood before her. She drew her gun in a fit of panic. He mustn't be allowed to implicate her.

_Bang!_ He dropped to the ground dead.

Her hands began to shake uncontrollably, and the gun slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground. She had murdered the guard to protect herself from her father's wrath. She wanted it all to go away.

She ran toward the Zephyrian domes, which were close, and entered. She had to get back to her room and pretend none of this had ever happened.
Chapter 24

Seth awoke with his head resting in Chloe's lap. She sat upright with her right hand on his chest and her left hand cradling him. He scanned the small enclosure and found it empty. He moved slowly, pulling his head away from her lap to avoid waking her.

"The storm passed over us," she said. She hadn't been sleeping.

"How did it catch up so fast?" he replied. "It should have traveled away."

"We are a lot farther south than I anticipated," she said. "We have a full day's walk—if you can." She reached for his forehead. "How is that bump?"

"Fine. What happened after we crashed? I don't remember."

"Nothing, really. I just saved your life," she said, smirking. But she had to coerce the smile from under her breathing mask. "I'm not sure what the last thing you remember was, but when the hovercar smashed into the surface, we hit a large boulder."

"Yes, I remember flying through the air."

"Well, we sailed about fifty meters past the boulder and into a large algae pit. I landed in the center, where the algae pool was deeper and cushioned. My head spun for a few moments, but I managed to stand and look for you. You landed a few meters from me but much harder on a shallower portion of the pit. You hit your head on either the way out of the hovercar or when you landed. I'm not sure.

"I tried to make my way over to you but the mechnodroids activated themselves. They were awful, and they were everywhere. Tiny little robots, they rest on the bottom of the algae. They thought we were nutrients and pulled you under before I could make my way over. They aren't strong by themselves, but at least fifty ran around, grabbing at you and pulling at me. I swatted them off my back. But by that time, you had vanished. I dredged the bottom of the pit for what seemed like forever. I was so scared. I was ready to die if I didn't find you.

"I noticed your boot kick up out of the algae. The mechnodroids repositioned you for whatever they were planning. They don't even think. They just do what they are programmed to do. Monsters. I plowed my way over, grabbed you by the waist, and heaved you up out from under the surface. But those little monsters kept pulling at you, not letting go. I slipped a couple of times and lost my hold several times. They pulled you under again, but I snagged under your arms this time. I was kicking and swatting until I got you to the surface, where they finally gave up." She sighed. "And then things got worse."

"Worse!"

"The storm chased overhead. The wind threw rocks and algae all over us. I pulled you with the last of my energy to the utility box, threw everything out, and heaved us in. The storm pushed to full strength by this time and raged for a few hours until it settled enough for me to sleep."

"Thanks," he said.

She nodded, then tightened her face. "We should get moving."

"What is the time?" he muttered as he glanced at his own watch: seven in the morning. "How far did you say we were out from Trivium Port?"

"About thirty kilometers, but the map says we are only fifteen from a Zephyrian hazardous cargo platform."

"Zephyrian, good," he said. "We have to inform them. Please tell me the data card is intact."

"Right here." She patted her breast pocket and grinned.

"You are the best." He smirked. "Let's get out of here and check the damage to the hovercar. I wonder if the communications panel is working. It should be fine if the fire barrier worked. We won't survive long without our coats. I'm surprised we survived the night without them."

"The utility box has heating panels built into the sides," she said, feeling the side with her hand. "I guess so the equipment doesn't go below freezing. Some of it _was_ sensitive."

He nodded and moved toward the doorway.

He poked his head out of the small door to the utility box, and the storm damage surprised him. The damage wasn't how he would have imagined it to be. For kilometers around them, the storm had painted the surface like a story shown to him from old Earth books. A musty odor saturated the air. The wind had blown the algae all around and covered the rocks an earthly green shade.

He stood and groaned as he stretched out his muscles.

Chloe did the same.

He put his arm around her, and without saying a word they both knew this was as close to Earth as they would ever be. In a few days, the untended algae along the sides would be dead, and the area would lapse back into the alien red of Mars.

The storm littered the discarded equipment around his feet. The winds and the rocks had shredded it. They stepped, cautiously, around the utility box, watching each step, sometimes kicking over rocks looking for anything helpful buried under the cluttered surface. They couldn't salvage anything.

Mechnodroids scurried around each algae pit, removing debris and placing them in a neat pile to the north side. Chloe stayed within arm's length of Seth, yelping a warning cry each time one of the mechnodroids got close. However, they were more concerned with their programmed duty.

When Seth moved within two strides of the hovercar, the toxins watered his eyes, and the smell of burnt synthel-oil forced his hand to his nose. Inspecting it, he found the damage was more than he expected. The engine compartment had suffered the worst.

The destruction of the front display panel discouraged him. The impact had crushed the navigational positioning, the weather service screen, and worst of all, the communications unit. As he continued to survey the comm, he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, thinking of a way to salvage the parts into a workable unit. Parker might be able to fix it. Seth's own knowledge was limited to intact systems, so he had absolutely no way to call back for help.

Digging into the back compartment, and thanking the engineer who decided to separate the compartments with a fire barrier, he found undamaged ration packets and their thermo coats. He pulled them out from under the seat. He wished he would have listened to Jan and kept the thermal tent in the hovercar, because the plasma fire had gutted all the sensor equipment brought in to replace the tent. Yet then, the tent would have been in the same condition. Mars damned him either way.

"I found the most important thing we will need," he said, and he showed her the coats, much to her delight. He grabbed the shoulders of her coat, and she put her arms into the sleeves. Then he stuffed the ration packets into her pockets.

"Hey, I don't want to carry this," she said. "You take some."

"They are for you. I'll be fine."

"That is nonsense," she protested. "We will share them, or I won't eat at all."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't be like that."

"Stop protecting me." She crossed her arms. The glower in her eyes returned. "Just when I think I have escaped your grip, you go and squeeze me tight. I can't wait until this is all over, and I can begin my hunt for my apartment on Mars."

_That was petty of her,_ he thought, wanting to tell her, but he bit his tongue. Unless she was serious, in which case, she was a jerk. Even with what they had been through, she still wasn't going to let him forget how she felt like a hostage. His quest for her safety was noble, not stifling. He was chagrined to think she could think otherwise. He had been right about Mars, and once he proved that to the rest of the crew, she would have to ask for his forgiveness and realize his paranoia was warranted.

They began their hike at a brisk pace.

Midafternoon came, and the sun flared hot in the sky, heating their thermo suits to a comfortable temperature and storing the excess energy in the battery strips lining the coat. The sky cleared away from the morning mist, but clouds swam in the distance to the south and to the east. The clouds didn't worry Seth as he and Chloe were traveling northeast and didn't expect to run into any more bad weather in the near future. The surface became a shade redder as they moved away from the focal point of last night's storm. The algae tossed out of the farms slackened, disheartening Seth. He enjoyed the brief appearance of what he jokingly referred to as Mearth—an Earth-like Mars.

Across his view of the planitia, the pits steepened on the edges, indicating that they had walked into another farmer's field. Commonly on Mars, each farm had its own quirk: some pits steepened and shrank, some grew longer and flatter, and some acquired a circular or hexagonal shape. Each farmer had his own theory on which was the best way to grow the algae and thought everyone else's was wrong. "Never let a Martian farmer talk about how he digs his pits unless you have plenty of time on your hands" was the adage told since the early days of Mars.

They walked at a distance from one another between the series of algae pits, Chloe several steps ahead. Chloe's eagerness to return to Mars had destroyed his enthusiasm to hasten it. Their return would prove his actions correct but would also reopen travel to Lunara. He worried that she might not come.

Chloe peered at her arm controls, studying their direction. So far, they had not wondered off course. Her best estimate of the travel time worried her. By plain sight, some distance stretched from their current position to the other side of a farm. She looked at her arm control again and decided to trust the information on the screen, limited as it was. Plain sight and Mars always had a way of playing tricks.

She lowered her arm and checked her breast pocket for the tenth time in the last hour. The evidence that might unravel her life forever pressed snuggly against her. Since Josef Vhortov handed them the damned evidence, the datapads formed an unspoken tension between her and Seth.

Seth was right, and she could hardly stomach it. The protectiveness and the shackles he used to cuff her had always been necessary. Burning within her pocket was the evidence validating his years of obsession and hatred. His obsession had ruined their relationship; worse, it justified his paranoia fully and destroyed any hope of his return to Mars. She would never have the typical Martian family. Mars was wicked.

Yet the evidence wasn't completely clear. Some of it required leaps of faith with circumstantial evidence. Seth had made up his mind, but she was having a hard time piecing it together. At the briefing, Thomas Cross said it was a rogue force that attacked the Martian relays and Lunara. The report contained nothing about any attacks but contained mostly metalor inventory data. She was unable to ignore the connection between Aethpis and the missing stones. Aethpis fit as the invaders. Where else could those resources have gone besides the invading fleet sent to Lunara? Nowhere.

She kicked a pile of stones in front of her, sending them rattling along the surface. She needed Parker, Gwen, and Eamonn. They knew Mars better than Seth did.

His hatred for Mars, bubbling in his head, driving his actions since the day their colony had been attacked, began to cloud her judgment as well, because with each bit of evidence found, he made more sense, and it scared her. His vision of Mars was nightmarish, a world without morality or order, something she couldn't believe mankind capable of creating. She didn't believe they would be able to mask such a thing from her acute senses.

She stopped to turn toward Seth. "I think we should take it to Eamonn first."

He shook his head, defiant as ever. "We are taking it right to the gala and showing the chancellor. The report would be swept under the rug if we presented it privately."

"Eamonn will be at the gala."

"I don't want to upset Eamonn again, believe me. The best thing to do for us is to make this public. We are capable of making decisions, especially for Lunara and for Ty." He looked off toward the sky. "Eamonn will agree with our decision." He looked back to her. "He should trust our judgment by now. Ty might be suffering on the station or worse, dead. We must have our justice and our revenge."

"This isn't about justice. It isn't about revenge. It is about the truth. Jan and you are so worried about Ty and what happened to Lunara that you want to hold someone responsible and make them pay. Maybe if we know why they attacked us, we can better understand one another, and this will lead to peace. Peace forced upon a group never works; just because you have the most weapons and can control them through fear doesn't make it effective. You can't scare everyone. But you can make people understand."

"The truth will force the invaders to be held accountable. If we allow people to terrorize others and then, against all common sense, we give in to their wishes, we set a precedent that allows them to terrorize us. If someone bombs us or invades our homes, we punish them. What makes you think that everyone can understand everyone else's belief or position?"

"Because they are human, like you or I. Everyone can be made to understand."

"Human is irrelevant. They are evil," he said, walking away from Chloe.
Chapter 25

Parker stumbled as his escort, using his foot, pushed him into the interrogation room. His cuffed hands didn't allow him to brace his fall, and his shoulder, caught behind his back, wrenched as he hit the ground. He groaned as a sharp pain shot down his arm. He twisted his torso to square his body, and his shoulder popped back into place. He groaned again, feeling the sting toward his clavicle. The guard snickered and slammed the door, which made a booming sound that echoed.

Parker spied around and saw no one.

He came up to his knees, pushed the floor with one foot, and rose to a standing position. He kicked a scattered chair to the table and sat down.

His captors had left him in his socks, his thermo pants, and his sleeveless undershirt. The hard cement walls of the room began to chill him, the cold air trickling across his body. His mind started to race with horrible ideas. What if they forgot about him? He shook his head. They were a civilized colony, and they wouldn't let him endure torture.

The dimly lit room was uninteresting. It reeked of stale sweat, an artifact of past sufferers of the Aethpisian interrogation. The two walls on either side were blank, and the door was behind his back, which made him uneasy.

The opposite wall reflected back toward him, courtesy of a one-way mirror. Tattered hair and a bruised lip stood out in his reflection.

He took long breaths of the stale air, and there was no sign of a ventilation system, which was the first sign of good security he had seen thus far. The room gave the impression of lacking air—a classic Martian intimidation ploy to draw out his fear. If he thought hard and long enough about suffocation, he would panic, and in this panicked state, they would make him say anything. Such an obvious strategy would not fool him, though, not with his military training.

He took another deep breath.

"Interrogation," he muttered. He had to keep his composure and make sure his answers were consistent. He ran through a list of possible questions in his head and tried to recite some plausible answers.

His mind kept shifting to the governmental cover-up happening on Mars. Jan and Seth insisted someone had done it, but Aethpis wasn't the cause of it. The explanation they gave at the briefing seemed more and more plausible.

He knew that breaking into the security center in a major colony was punishable by five to ten years community service, mining ice on the chilled moon of Europa or perhaps even building the Triton project on Titan.

He leaned his head back, trying to clear the growing anguish in his mind. He wondered if Jan was enduring the same treatment, and if Eamonn had found out by now, and if he had already thrown his locker out the air lock.

Several minutes later, the door cracked open. Three guards entered the room. One stood beside the chair on the other side of the table, and two stood immediately behind him in the corners, ready to protect the interrogator. Parker squinted to block the light as a figure walked through the door.

He had expected Thomas Cross or one of his high-ranking officers to conduct the interrogation, but she was much worse for him. He would have settled for Kyle Cortez or Minister Cortez, but instead, sitting across the table from him, with a callous expression on her face that he would not have expected to find in her, was Sarah Cortez.

She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Of course, Sarah would never have feelings for a mechanic, but to someone like him, looking up at her olive skin, brown eyes, and the regal aura following her everywhere . . .

"Miss Cortez, I can explain—"

"You will be silent, Mr. McCloud," Sarah said, firmly. "I am not here for lies and dishonor. You'll explain, but only when I ask you the questions and leave out nothing. We will finish when I am satisfied with your answers. Is that clear?"

"Where is Jan—"

"Quiet!"

Sarah confused him. She was a different woman from the one who had sent him into a fit of rapture at the restaurant. Her jaw was set firm against her teeth, her hair was pulled back, and her brown eyes, dark and unmoving, glared at him through the shadow cast from the light above.

His lips pressed together, and he dared not say an inappropriate word.

She flipped through her notes. Most likely, an intelligence report, he inferred. She looked up but not at him. Then she put her head down again to review her notes. She did this a number of times.

The situation still confounded him. Contrary to what his instincts had been expecting, they hadn't punched, beaten, and bruised him. Instead, she was playing with his nerves, and it was effective.

He shifted in his seat.

A bright light flashed in his eyes from behind her. He squinted and turned his head, but with his hands tied behind his back, he couldn't escape the fiery blaze.

"State your name, occupation, and allegiance," Sarah said. Her lips thinned as they drew back.

He stalled, words escaping him. Before she chastised him, he managed to croak out facts she already knew. "Parker McCloud . . . head mechanic for the mining vessel, _Protector_ . . . and my allegiance is to the truth."

"To the truth," she repeated. "I don't believe you seek truth with such deceit in your actions. You came here for a purpose for someone. Who is it?"

"I came here to learn the truth about what is happening on Mars–-"

She cut him off. "How did you enter this facility?"

"I entered using the secondary ventilation unit. I went down the main shaft down into the tenth level, where I found the minister's office and accessed the computer system."

"What did you want?"

"The truth. The entire operation was just a hunch. We were wrong about Aethpis. We didn't find anything to implicate you in the invasion of Lunara."

"Why did we find two datapads full of information in your possession when we detained you?"

He smiled, crookedly and slyly, trying to persuade Sarah's coppery brown eyes to soften. But he guessed he would need overwhelming facts or a diplomat's tongue to soften her. Tactfulness was a talent he didn't possess, especially when dealing with a trained diplomat of her stature. He was only a mechanic. "The information needed to be cross-referenced for us to be satisfied," he said.

Her jaw remained too stolid. "Why did you say you 'didn't find anything in our system'? It makes no sense to tell me you found nothing but took our classified records as proof."

"I had to prove the meteor stones in your possession weren't used on the invasion fleet. The minister plans to unveil the megacruiser-class starship at the gala. The ship isn't part of the attacking force, and your inventory would account for the materials needed to build it. I couldn't prove to my crew your innocence until I showed them proof of what the minister was really building."

"My father isn't planning anything of that sort at the gala. You are mistaken."

"I bet it is a surprise."

"He has no surprises that I don't know about."

"What about the invasion force? Did you know about Aethpis sending troops?"

"That isn't your concern," she said. "Are you and your partner working for the same invasion force? Perhaps you are just a clever spy trying to spin out of our clutches to save your own skin. I think these are the truths of the matter."

"I can assure you I am not a part of the invasion force. If I worked for the Lunara invasion force, I would have rigged the _Protector_ to stall in open space before they ever arrived on Mars. The invaders were after me, too. Plus, Jan, the pilot of the _Protector_ , could have stopped us at any time."

"Maybe your entire crew is working for the invasion force. The report supplied by Thomas Cross showed a high number of Trivium Port sympathizers within the group, and you are from Trivium Port. Your actions lead me to believe you are part of their resistance force, and you came to Aethpis with the express purpose of espionage against us."

"That is—"

"Reveal your source. As I said at the beginning, I'll be satisfied with your answers or you will stay here. I can make your stay uncomfortable, and if Mr. Cross decides to join our little conversation, you'll wish you had told me sooner."

"You can't threaten me. Capture rules exist for this sort of situation. The Principles of Man—"

"I can do what I want, Mr. McCloud. No one watches the government; we are the watchers. I'm afraid no one will miss you. Your street of secrecy runs both ways and this time to my benefit."

He looked down. She was right; he was alone here, but her anger was graver than a simple intruder inside Aethpis would cause. Maybe she knew more than she had been letting on, or maybe something was in those files her father didn't want anyone to know about. Had she suspected the same wrongdoing? He was not the person to prove his loyalty or begin to analyze all these questions. He needed Eamonn.

"I am part of the crew for the _Protector_ , and Lunara Colony was invaded. We didn't believe the story at the briefing. We have no ill intentions with our actions, and we did not intend to sell or distribute any of the information that we discovered."

"And why should I believe you?"

"I am telling the truth."

She paused for a half minute, studying him, trying to discern some discomfort, some chink in his composure.

He didn't waver.

"Why come to Aethpis?"

"Obviously, your colony is the biggest and the brightest of all the colonies. We looked to you first."

"What about Zephyria? Did you send someone looking at them, too?"

"Yes. Gordon Roche should be back at Trivium by now," he said, holding off saying Gwen's name. The controversy of involving her would be too great and would overshadow their efforts. "Hopefully, he found the information we were seeking."

"What information are you seeking?"

He shrugged. "The tricky part was looking for anything for leads and not knowing where or what to look for."

She rolled her eyes at his vague replies. "You mentioned a megacruiser-class starship from my father's records. What do you know?"

"It is the largest ship I have ever seen in specs. A cruiser-class starship is the biggest they build now."

Elbows on the table, she made a steeple with her index fingers, intertwining her remaining fingers, seemingly trying to rationalize her next words. "I am starting to think Ty Falloom was behind the invasion of Lunara, and he faked the entire thing. My father intercepted his plans and recovered the colony for the Martian people. Your crew was sent to trick us into thinking some nonexistent raider group invaded you. Controlling the meteor stones is what this is about. If it wasn't for Thomas Cross and his intelligence agents, you might have gotten away with your invasion of Lunara. Stop denying your allegiance to the Trivium Port separatists."

"The separatist movement for Trivium Port is almost nonexistent. They are a fanatical group with a hundred followers. Using them to implicate us is asinine."

"My father has proof a nonaligned colony orchestrated the invasion. Why would I doubt him?"

"Because a major colony had to have done this. Could it be someone from your father's team?"

"I am here tonight because I have been looking into some theories of my own." Sarah paused a long moment. "Where could someone build a fleet without being seen?"

"Plenty of chasmata or even a deep space outpost."

"Deep space outpost. Like around a moon of Neptune?"

"Yes. You know of a place?"

"No." She tapped the control panel on her CommUn. The light from behind her went out and left only her silhouette in his refocusing eyes. "I will go over your statements, Mr. McCloud. We will take you to a cell until further notification." She left the room without saying another word.

The guards yanked him from his seat and pushed up out the door.

In his hotel room, Eamonn was preparing to leave for the gala when the chime on his holophone rang. He moved over and activated the screen.

"Jan," he said. "Where are you?"

"I was captured," she said.

"Captured? How?" He wanted to hear her say she was joking. "Very funny. Why are they letting you contact me?"

Jan did not waver, and her tone remained serious. "They are watching us. I begged them. They understand you are our leader."

He furrowed his brow. "Who captured you?"

"Have Chloe or Seth checked in?" Her eyes widened; she was eager for a positive reply. "I'm worried about them."

"I haven't seen anyone," he said. "I'm too busy to baby-sit. I hoped we would all meet before the gala for a drink and to apologize."

"A drink that will never be," she replied.

"I'm confused. Who is letting you contact me?"

"Me," a new voice said. Sarah Cortez slipped onto the viewscreen. "You are a traitor, and I will see that you are punished as one."

He stepped back. The sharpness in her tone was so poignant. If he hadn't known better he would have expected her to reach through the screen and hit him. "What do you mean?"

"Do not play dumb with me, Captain Dalton. You are coming to Aethpis to answer some questions about the invasion force. You may come voluntarily, or we can arrest you for your role in this ill-advised attack and betrayal."

"And what makes you think I won't hide where you can't find me?" His Revolutionary War instincts began to creep in.

"Because I found you already. Why do you think you received a communication on this channel? My personal security team is waiting for you outside."

He glowered. "Jan . . . you guys went behind my back and set me up!"

"You are far from innocent, Captain," Sarah said.

"Miss Cortez . . . we should meet in person. I have information for you that will help you determine who the real enemy is." His crew had screwed up badly, and he could only think of one way to get out of the situation. Use the piece of evidence that was a mystery to everyone—the FSTAT communication.

"And what information is that?"

"The old FSTAT system contained an encrypted transmission, and I believe this is how the invaders from Earth talked to Mars. The source on Mars is our common enemy here. Not us."

"What does it say?"

"I will forward you a copy, and we can discuss it when I arrive," Eamonn said, bluffing.

Sarah eyed him thoughtfully. "For your sake, you better bring something worthwhile. I find it impossible that you can climb out of the hole your crew has already dug."

Eamonn curled his lower lip against his teeth. He hoped someone on Sarah's team would crack it and exonerate his backstabbing crew. He wanted the satisfaction of getting hold of each of them and pushing them out the nearest air lock.
Chapter 26

Chloe trailed Seth as they hurried along the surface. In the short distance, an alarming sight elevated their fear. The sprawled foot of the cliff blocked their path for miles in both directions.

The breathing masks made her jog labored. No one had come up with a breathing mask that would convert air fast enough to match a human jogging. The best way to accomplish a steady speed was to jog for a hundred paces and then walk the next hundred paces. Alternating the pattern increased speed and kept the lungs regulated.

Arriving at the base of the cliff, Chloe could not see an easy way up. The cliff sloped at some points, but mostly the walls were a steep incline. Seth wandered to the south and studied the crater's edge. She jogged after him.

"Let's walk this way," he said. "There is no path here. Unless you've grown wings."

"Nope, no wings," she muttered. "It can't get much worse."

They walked along the base for several minutes to the south. The terrain became rockier, and the algae farms began to disappear farther to the east. The air wasn't as crisp as before, and each breath was a struggle. Additionally, desperation began to weigh on Chloe's mind. She kept thinking about the ration packets; she had kept many of them in case an emergency hit. But most of all, she thought about shelter. Death would find them fast if they didn't find shelter before sundown. Mars's cold grip would squeeze the heat right out of them, heating coils in their coats or not.

They walked for an hour before a pattern appeared on the cliff face.

Seth hurried his pace. "Up there! The path is camouflaged, but I think it leads to the top," he said, pointing.

"Where? Are you sure the path is real?"

"Back and forth. Something is there," he said, moving several steps away from the base and standing on the tips of his toes. He hopped as he looked up the side. "A ledge . . . can't be more than a meter wide. I told you it wasn't an illusion. We will have a short climb, though."

She eyed him with some apprehension, not entirely convinced the trip to the ledge would be a good use of energy. She figured that the appearance of the path was caused only by shadows, but no alternative came to her, so she followed.

Minutes later, and with plenty of self-doubt overcome, she climbed up the cliff's face.

"A short climb," she muttered. Her eyes darted, searching the face. "It's a lot more sloped over here." She pointed to her left.

She grabbed the rough rock, always careful to find the firm footholds in the treacherously loose rock. Seth's protective hand pressed against her back.

"I can do it," she yelled down at him. "You're making me nervous when you grab me."

"You're scared," he replied. "We are high up."

_That bastard_. She didn't need him reminding her of her greatest fear. A fear that was already making her hands clammy and her knees wobble. "I don't need you."

"Fine."

With a regretful glimpse down toward him, she saw past him to the ground. Involuntarily, her mind imagined the plunge to the surface. She returned her gaze up the cliff, trying her hardest to stay focused on the task. The climb started okay; she could handle a six-meter plunge, but she was up twenty meters now, maybe even thirty. The potential fall frayed her nerves.

She forced her locked muscles into motion.

"Where is the top?" she called down to him, wanting it all to end. "You said it would be here. A short climb, you said."

"I don't know. The path shouldn't be much farther."

"What do you mean, you don't know? We are getting awfully high."

"Keep going and think about something else."

With mild relief and surprise, after several more heaves, she reached the ledge.

He moved up beside her, brushed the embedded dust off his hands, and dangled his legs over the side. She did the same.

They remained silent.

Seth feared speaking with Chloe. Not like this, not here. He knew when to shut up. Not often, according to Eamonn, but he knew enough to let her be.

The sky above hazed with red, and where the dust thinned along the horizon, spots of blue light peeked through. Lunara—his home—was beyond the atmosphere, outshone by the daylight of Mars.

Dusk began to settle. The shadows behind the rocks cast darkened spots. The temperature had dropped thirty degrees in the last hour and would reach dangerous levels soon. _What in Pluto's name are we doing here?_

He tilted his head toward Chloe. At once, the pain of the last few days resurfaced in his thoughts.

Why had Mars Medical come to examine them? He still couldn't figure out why. Other than the crew of the _Protector_ , no one knew for sure that Chloe and he had these abilities. The rumors on Lunara couldn't have been taken seriously. And even still, they were the same people they had always been. What had changed to make them notice?

"How has your head been lately?" he asked. "Are the headaches gone?"

"Since we left Trivium Port, my mind is clear. Less clutter. In Trivium, it throbbed, but alone with you . . . all the background noise is gone. The barren lands give me peace."

"If you return to Mars, you will need to begin training yourself to block the sensations," he said. "Your headaches have picked up recently. I haven't told you this, but I can sense when you get angry or afraid. You probe my mind for comfort. I feel you."

She brushed the dust from his tattered hair. "We were made for one another. As chaotic as you are, your mind soothes me. But you have to let go of your hatred for Mars for us to be happy."

"I can't. My mother's face that day. Your face that day. Not ever." He gazed into the distance.

The wind whistled along the cliff's surface and flowed warmly along his face. His ear caught the rhythmic din. The climb still pulling on his lungs, he took in several long breaths. From out of the south, the wind had shifted slightly, and a warm comforting air amazed him as it relieved his tired lungs.

Suddenly, he stopped himself. The warm hand of Mars was trying desperately to pull him closer to its frigid heart. He set his teeth and stood.

"Let's go," he said, taking one look back in the direction of the wind. He couldn't help himself and took another deep breath. The warmth in the breeze soothed him.

He turned up toward the ledge.

"The air is getting warmer," she said, reading his discomfort with it. "The heart of Mars is beginning to beat again. Mars's terraformers are doing a wonderful job."

"Night is coming. Mars is as cold as ever. The core is dead. Why do you think they installed the magnetic field in orbit?" He walked along the ledge. After a few steps, he paused and turned back toward her. "Don't be fooled by anomalies or by Mars."

She didn't reply. Simply, she got up and followed him.

His intuition about the ledge had been correct; a path of switchbacks wound up the side of the cliff. By the time they rounded their way to their third ledge, the sun's angle was low enough for them to see the ledge below them more clearly. The light did nothing to help Seth discern what lay ahead; his vantage point from a quarter of the way up the cliff was so angled upward he had no way of knowing how far the path meandered toward the top. He kept them moving upward regardless.

The barren expanses behind them offered no comfort. If night fell and they were still out there, he could do nothing for her. The cold would wash across their bodies and penetrate their bones, freezing them solid by midnight.

The Zephyrian hazardous cargo facility was only five kilometers past the crest, and this was probably going to be the best destination for them to aim at before darkness set in. Staying close to the side with each step, he led as she shuffled her feet behind him.

She tried to stifle the whispers of protest born of fear, and he continued to move her along. The all-too-real drifting of the sun toward the horizon, counting down to their deaths, signaled that he didn't have time to be nice or coddle her fears.

They continued forward. She hadn't spoken in their last three or four rest stops. _Maybe she realized the necessity of silence,_ he thought. He did not expect idle conversation a quarter of a kilometer above the surface with winds blowing over their heads and the loose rocks testing each step.

The top was so far up, too, quashing hopes of reaching it. The situation was as brutal as Seth had ever been in, but he continued forward.

To help himself, for the last half hour Seth had purposefully held his gaze down. He hoped his next glance up the cliff's face would be more encouraging, but as he stood at the base of the next ledge across, waiting for Chloe to take her break, he was disheartened. They were only halfway to the crest. The half hour of trudging, crawling, digging, and plodding along the path just seemed like a waste.

She signaled her readiness with a grunt, and they continued.

As they moved up higher, the path increased steeply. It was so steep they crawled on their hands and knees to maintain balance. Seth's shoulders began to ache, and his shins, torn apart by the walk to Memnonia Sulci, had reopened. Blood pooled at his ankles, between his sock and his skin.

However, he surged with silent jubilation about the steeper path—it meant they were ascending faster.

Her fear churned in his mind. She had never had a problem flying in space. With no up or down, she couldn't fall. But her fears amplified when gravity pulled on her, even when she was under the lighter, artificial gravity of Lunara. He always wondered how she could spacewalk on a Black Widow satellite, with zillions of miles between her feet and nothing, but always froze climbing service ladders only five meters above the hangar floor on Lunara. Even the gangway leading to the _Protector_ gave her the jitters.

With each crisscross along the face of the cliff, the frequency of their rests increased. Seth knelt over her, looking up the side.

"I can't go just yet," she said between gasps. "I can't go much longer, either."

"Stay right here. I'll be back in a moment. I think we're near the top."
Chapter 27

Sarah Cortez led Eamonn down the corridor toward the conference room. The four guards hurried them along as he tried to slow his pace to continue his count of all the other guards. It had reached twenty to this point; all were guarding various other entrances along their route. If he didn't know better, he would have thought a commando force had entered the building.

Their mistrust only amplified the uneasiness that had been gnawing at him since they left the hotel for Aethpis Colony. He couldn't help but think he should have run. If he had walked into a trap, it would be impossible to escape. At least back at the hotel he had the roof and the multiple fire escapes, or, if the worst happened, he could have blasted his way past the four guards they met in the hallway.

In his mind, escape was easy enough, but reality said more guards were probably hiding at each exit. He dreaded the thought of walking into a room looking to gain an ally. At least he knew where he stood with an enemy. He hated them, and they hated him. But a forced alliance would cause him to watch his back for the duration.

He had never trusted the Cortez family, even before he left for Lunara. Sarah's grandfather always gave him the impression he had too much power, and he flaunted it often. The people applauded him for his victories over the raiders, but he used those victories to advance his standing and his hold over the other council members. Eamonn found Cortez's exploitation of these victories appalling. Now, his granddaughter was accusing him of treason, and he couldn't help but notice the same twisted smirk of her grandfather on her face.

Sarah ushered him into the conference room. His stomach churned as he tried to say something to her. The right to speak first was hers, and no one had said a word since Sarah greeted him on the landing pad. Her face offered little more than the stolid expression of the diplomat. Unable to gauge her feelings, he waited for her to speak. He would play the possum, for now.

Upon entering the conference room, he surveyed the area: in the middle of the circular room, a rectangular table rested with eight chairs; the walls displayed paintings, and spread against the walls was a wide variety of ferns and other leafy plants. As he moved farther into the room, the air sweetened, and he heard the faint bubbling of the hydroponics tubing carrying the mineral-enriched water in and out of the potted plants toward the far end. In the corners, more guards stood, equipped with turbo rifles and stony faces. Such excess bravado toward an already searched and unarmed guest was an obvious ploy to intimidate him. Eamonn made it a point to stare back at each of the guards to let them know he wasn't going to be pacified easily.

His final survey was a glance toward the screen on the wall, which displayed the surface of Mars at a random location that Eamonn inferred was the larger basalt rock formations of southern region.

Jan, staying quiet, sat at the table.

"I think this is the time you start explaining your actions, Captain Dalton," Sarah said, staring at him.

"First, we would like to offer our apologies for this unfortunate incident," he said, waiting for an acknowledgement. None came. "An unknown force invaded Lunara. We—as members of that colony and the only ones to escape the grasp of the threat—felt obligated to conduct our own investigation into the situation." _One that I didn't sanction but that my crew conspired against me to carry out._

"You were debriefed of Lunara's invasion when you arrived," Sarah said. "On Mars, we don't infiltrate other colonies' security centers and risk war between us. We take up these matters in council meetings."

"We were grateful your security forces provided the information, but the situation just didn't add up. We had a kidnapping attempt on two of our crew members shortly after we arrived. You can check with Trivium Port security for the file containing our report on the incident and other mysteries we couldn't explain."

"I read the report. Where are they now?"

"They left for Memnonia Sulci yesterday and haven't returned," Jan said. "It is highly likely the invaders of Lunara captured them."

_So Seth really did go to confirm the launch site,_ Eamonn thought.

"More likely, you are hiding them. I concluded from my preliminary investigation that Lunara staged the invasion. After which, Aethpis rescued Mars from your betrayal. I don't believe for a second that they are missing—"

Jan leaned forward in her chair. "Hold on. We are the only survivors of a brutal invasion of our colony, and you call us traitors. You count on theories and unverified evidence from people I don't trust, while we found proof about who really did this." Jan met Sarah's eyes with her own icy stare. She pulled out the datapad from the satchel, linked to the screen, and ran the video of Ty's last message. "This is our chief officer warning us to get to Mars. I am going to stop it at the point where some of our suspicions started."

On the screen, they saw the security officer wearing the pendant.

For a brief moment, Sarah's jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Her jaw churned as she contemplated a reply. "So, you think my family had something to do with Lunara. You talk about my accusations as theories, and you come into here with lies."

Jan put her hand up to signal Sarah to stop talking. "No, we are here to make you our ally. We believe this was used to set up Aethpis."

"Really. By whom?"

Eamonn felt it was time to bluff. "Did you have a chance to read the coded transmissions on the old FSTAT system?"

"Yes. I read the transcript and it implicates my family."

"Your family?"

"Yes. Did you not infiltrate Aethpis to fabricate more lies?"

"No," he said, wondering how the FSTAT transmission could implicate the Cortez family. "To be honest, I haven't heard the transmission. I played a hunch that you could decode it."

"My father's encryption code was used."

The FSTAT transmission puzzled Eamonn, but he thought playing Jan's angle of a setup seemed to be their best chance of escaping Sarah's wrath. "And you know nothing of the plans to invade Lunara?"

"Of course not. My family loves Mars."

"Someone is fabricating evidence to implicate Aethpis."

Sarah tensed. "Yes. You!"

"No," he said. "And I can't believe your family would be so sloppy in covering this up. Someone wants us to think your family is involved."

"Who?"

"The chancellor and Zephyria," Jan said. "They are the logical choice. Gwen and Roche haven't reported yet."

"You might be right," she said, and exhaled forcefully. "It is a huge accusation, but my gut has told me that Lunara had to be attacked by one of the main colonies. But when you say that Zephyria is involved, it seems right."

"Why did you have a hunch about Zephyria and the invasion?" asked Eamonn.

"As I said, one of the main colonies did it, and it wasn't Aethpis. The math was simple for me. I told my father my ideas, about how I suspected a Neptune base and some evidence that metalor was being routed there, but he dismissed me. Thomas Cross is convinced a rebellious colony was the cause, and my father listens unconditionally to him."

"Neptune base?"

"Suspected . . . a theory of mine. I am in charge of Aethpis's resource reports. I used them to track some shipments to Neptune. I wanted to find the shipyard used in the attack on Lunara . . . to impress my father."

"And you think this is where the shipyards are?"

"It's remote, and only Zephyria has an outpost there. We took Uranus during the settlements of the outer planet."

"Zephyria must be brought to justice," Jan said.

"How could my family have been so naive and blinded to what the Zephyrians were doing?" Sarah put her hands in her head. "I should have pressed my father harder, but everyone accepted the explanation so easily."

"Not everyone," Jan said. "Our witness to the invasion was cast aside just like your worries. We might be too late to reverse this."

"This isn't over yet," Eamonn said. Guilt pulled on his pride. He had ignored the crew, but he would make it up to them now.

Sarah's head sank into her hands. "What do you suggest our next course of action should be?"

"I want to take this information to the council right away," he said. "Zephyria should be punished."

Sarah shook her head. "If this conspiracy goes as deep as you are saying, we can't risk assembling the council at this time. We must keep them apart so the chancellor can't make a major strike at our leadership structure."

These words startled Eamonn. Worry pushed into his stomach.

"Maybe I should call my father and brother into this meeting," Sarah said. "I can't make these decisions without them."

"I'm afraid their fate is sealed," Eamonn said, making it a point to look into her eyes so she understood his anguish and torment. He wanted her to know he wasn't taking this lightly. Mars was threatened.

"What do you mean?" she said. She reached for her glass of water and drew in a large gulp.

"As you said before, an assembly of the leadership is a perfect place for them to make their initial strike. Everyone who is prominent on this planet will undoubtedly be at the gala. I think they plan to take Trivium Port by force, and then they will control the two main points of economy outside of Aethpis."

"We must warn them," Sarah said. She stood. Her chair slid back, struck the wall with a clang, and rattled to the floor.

He put his hand on hers. "Please sit. I have a strategy that can succeed, but I need you to listen first. We must serve the Martian people above anything else."

For a few moments, she just stood, looking at him. Her lips pursed. "Thomas Cross is a traitor."

"Cross?"

"My suspicions of him run deep. I'm convinced he is a part of this now."

"Why him? He seems loyal to your father."

"He is loyal to power. About three weeks ago, I was doing my weekly report on the condition of the Aethpis reservoir. I head the task force assigned to keeping the water clean and at a constant water level. Boring work. Anyway, I was in my office at the security center when I heard an awful yell from the hallway. I got up, moved over to the door, and cracked it open enough for me to see down. Cross was talking to a strange man, short and stout with beady eyes. I didn't recognize him until I saw his Mars Medical insignia."

"Hans Bauer," Jan whispered.

"Yes," she said. "Normally, I wouldn't be so curious or shocked to see a Zephyrian in our security center. They are here occasionally, and we have a great relationship with them, but they were arguing about preparations for his trip to Lunara. Hans was irate, pointing his finger at Thomas and flailing his arms."

"Why would Hans Bauer need to talk to Cross about his trip to Lunara?" Jan said.

"Aethpis Colony is responsible for all Mars Medical security on deep space missions—mostly to Io. Normally, the security officer dictates what Mars Medical will need in terms of security for their mission. Hans complained about communication relays, bridge commanders, and solar static. Unfortunately, Cross ushered Hans into his office before he would answer." Sarah shrugged. "To be honest, I never concerned myself with Lunara, so I didn't think much of the conversation at the time. With Lunara invaded, and all this evidence showing hidden caches of metalor, it had to mean something."

"They are tied together," Eamonn said. "I am positive."

"I dug around last night, and there was also a strange report signed by Cross about food shipments to Neptune, and water transports from the Kuiper belt that came back with tons of water missing from their original manifest. I suspect that there is a shipyard on Neptune we don't know about."

"What about Neptune station and their shipments?"

"That is a ten-person station that has enough water and food to last twenty years. Not the kind of supplies that would get depleted without my noticing."

"So you suspect this is where Cross is hiding the shipyard."

"Yes. If I had access to Zephyria records, I would be able to piece together more resources shifts there. I just know it."

"So, you agree we must take action."

"Yes. What is your plan?" Sarah said. "I have a few people around here I can trust."

"Good. I need you to have a few people for my plan to work," Eamonn said. "Do you have access to five or six assault cruisers?"

"Assault cruisers versus a ground attack force at Trivium. What could you be thinking?"

"You misunderstand." Eamonn tasted a sudden sourness in his throat. This plan would take some convincing, especially to Sarah. "To put it simply—we go and retake Lunara."

"Lunara? That backwater colony?" Sarah laughed, forced to by her contempt for Eamonn's proposal. "With Mars in this much trouble—"

"Either we control Lunara and the meteor stones, or we control Mars. If Zephyria controls both, we are doomed, and our manpower isn't enough to recapture Mars."

"You want me to leave my father and all those people to die? The gamble is too big to fly all the way to Lunara. You overestimate its importance."

"Meteor stones are the cause for the invasion. The Zephyrians found out their secret. They want to control the cluster and the pipeline to the metalor production. We need to attack them where we can overcome them. Lunara needs your help to pull this off."

"The meteor stones are common knowledge and their use in metalor. How is metalor so important to them suddenly?"

"They know more now. They found out how to use it in humans. I suspect that is why they want Seth and Chloe." Eamonn wondered if Parker had been right this whole time.

"If they control the stones and capture Seth and Chloe, they will perform horrible experimentations on them," Jan added.

Sarah stared into the display screen and then flipped through various reports. "This course of action will sacrifice my father and my brother . . . but maybe they can still get out alive." She bit her lower lip. "I told your mechanic that Lunara wants to control the meteor stones to control Mars. I was right in that assumption, but the chancellor wants control. How can you ask me to sacrifice my father and my brother?"

"Our plan demands we don't tip off our surprise. If someone in Zephyria finds out, Lunara will be warned."

"The communications are down . . ." Sarah's face contorted when she realized her lie.

"No, they aren't," Eamonn said. "You must trust your father's security force to help him. We have the power to act. We'll leave behind most of our crew; Seth, Chloe, Roche, and Gwen Arwell."

Lowering his head, distracted, Eamonn wondered if Gwen was part of the invasion. Had she deceived them?

Sarah stood and sauntered around the table. "I can't believe I have the entire Aethpisian military at my disposal but can't use it because Thomas Cross probably has them all brainwashed or in his pockets."

She flipped up the control pad on the table and entered a command. "Luckily, my father has his own personal army. Maintained by a separate colony, our family sealed the records, and Thomas Cross will not know about them. We can use their cruisers."

A moment later, the guards entered. Sarah moved toward them before they positioned themselves in their assigned corners. "Bring me the prisoner, take off his shackles, and give him back his equipment."

She turned to Jan. "Parker McCloud and Ms. Falloom shouldn't be allowed to leave here, but you will need him aboard your ship."

Before Eamonn stood to thank her, she had turned her back on him and was in discussions with her aides. Judging by their sour faces, they abhorred what they were hearing.

Jan rubbed Eamonn's shoulder, a welcome touch to his frustrated mind. He turned toward her with a smirk to let her know he wasn't angry.
Chapter 28

The Zephyrian hazardous cargo facility resembled an offshore platform. Raised by six giant columns, the facility sat one hundred meters into the air. Four platforms, akin to petals from a clover, jutted out from the main structure. Yellow warning lights outlined the edges, with red lights running up the building. Swirling in a random figure-eight pattern into the sky, attached to the highest point on the central tower, spotlights shined off the clouds out toward the horizon. Normally, the lights directed traffic, but no ships dotted the sky this evening.

Along the Martian terrain, Seth and Chloe waved their arms to signal the platform, but without success; a reply wasn't offered to them. They continued to walk toward the hulking structure.

Seth squinted, looking at the crater's edge in the distance. The sun crept down and soon would encase the entire crater in darkness, plunging it into unbearable cold.

After a short walk past the outer pillars, they arrived at the central shaft and the ladder running along the side.

From afar, the tower separating the platforms appeared much smaller. But standing at the base, well below the octagonal platforms, the main building stretched from the ground to the platform and that height again. The tower broke off from the building, stretching like an outreached hand into the atmosphere. The awesome sight was enough to make anyone stand and admire it for a few moments.

The buzz of a servomotor distracted Seth's attention, and he turned.

To his right, a door that was twice his height opened with a rumble. A fit of excitement and worry struck him. An obscure figure appeared against the harsh lights.

Samantha Burns walked out, looking surprised. A dozen soldiers and four Zephyrian guardsmen accompanied her. With urgency, the soldiers dashed out of the doorway and created a perimeter. The guardsmen flanked Samantha as she walked along the surface toward them.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Seth said.

"As I didn't expect you here," she said. Her eyes shifted to Chloe, sizing her up from head to toe. She moved closer to him. "We monitored your progress from the crater's edge. How did you happen upon our little facility?"

"We crashed about fifteen kilometers east of here and managed to walk. Only the crater's cliff was a nuisance."

"A terrible cliff," Chloe said.

"A cliff is a cliff," Samantha said. "It can't be terrible."

"If you don't like heights, it is terrible," Chloe replied.

"We all have our phobias. Some have a knack for overcoming them while others live in fear of them."

Seth felt Chloe react with anger at the slight. He squeezed her hand as he thought back to Josef in Memnonia Sulci. _Zephyrians are our allies now._

"I guess that is true," he said. "We have something important to discuss with the chancellor. His life could be in danger."

"Danger? How so?"

"We would prefer to talk directly to him and in a more private setting." He directed her attention toward the elevator.

"You will excuse my manners. Come inside and warm up at once." Samantha ushered them toward the doorway.

After a long ride up the elevator, she led them down a central corridor into the heart of the tower's structure.

"Has the gala begun?" Seth said. "We need to speak with the chancellor."

"It started a few minutes ago," Samantha replied. "The chancellor is already there with the rest of the delegations. He asked to not be disturbed."

Seth's face soured. "This is urgent."

Samantha cast his concern aside with a comforting smile. "Mars has its fair share of emergencies, and I hate to tell you this, but some on Mars despise the chancellor. His life has been threatened on more than one occasion. We probably know about the threat."

Chloe interrupted. "What about connecting us with Eamonn Dalton?"

"The communications into Trivium Port are restricted for security reasons. You will follow my direction if you wish to speak with the chancellor or anyone in Trivium Port."

"A communications blackout," Chloe muttered. "Seems to be a trend on this planet."

"What was that?" Samantha turned to her.

"Nothing."

"When can you prep a transport?" Seth said, trying to steer Chloe to a more constructive conversation.

"Right away," Samantha replied.

The elevator ride up to the top of the tower was quiet.

Seth didn't mind. He needed to think and go over different speeches in his head. First and hardest, he would convince Chancellor Arwell of what happened. This would not be easy, because the chancellor would not believe that the Aethpisians were traitors. Seth had to find a way of convincing him right away so that he would not even try to debunk their evidence. Zephyria needed to take action or Lunara would be sealed off, forever.

Chloe was staring at the elevator wall with curiosity. When she noticed him looking at her, she whispered, "An ominous feeling fills this place. But I can't tell what it is."

"Don't worry, we are safe," Samantha said, overhearing her.

Chloe's lip twitched. She tapped Seth's mind, trying to convey her apprehension about the whole ordeal.

Seth ignored her. She held too much loyalty to Eamonn, and she didn't want to take the risk ahead. He would do it for her.

The elevator opened at the top of the hazardous cargo facilities tower; the wind howled as the gusts passed across the curves and crevasses of the tower's peak. They stepped out onto the platform, and the cold air bit into their faces. In front of them, a single ship rested on the far side of the small platform, and over the edge, the algae farms they had traveled and the ring of the crater lay in the darkness of the night. In the immediate distance in all directions, marking the boundaries of the property, faint lights glowed like stars along the surface, but it was the aura of Trivium Port over the horizon that first caught Chloe's eye.

Chagrined, she realized she wouldn't have the opportunity to tell Seth about what she sensed from this facility. She didn't really understand what the feelings meant, and she knew she wouldn't convince Seth to take another course of action. The desire to reach the chancellor consumed him. But something about the facility made her uneasy, although she couldn't put her finger on it. Her mind worked overtime with the flood of feelings this place gave off; it was as if the tower was haunted in some way.

Seth's determination to reveal Aethpis as traitors to Mars troubled her, and if she knew Seth, he would find a way to make it more complicated. Her stomach tightened.

She followed the group toward the plank of the ship.
Chapter 29

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Gwen said for the hundredth time in the last hour.

She looked toward the entrance at the endless reception line. Unfortunately, when her father received an urgent message a half hour ago, he had left, giving her the star status for Zephyria. The guests made a point of shaking her hand and offering her encouragement to run for chancellor at the end of his term. She feigned interest, yet was slightly flattered by their confidence in her.

By most people's opinion on Mars, the dream of any Arwell was the chancellorship of Zephyria. For the last six generations, the Arwells had had some kind of leadership role on Mars. Thomas Arwell was the first leader of Zephyria United Colonies and his family line, Gerald, Calvin, Calvin II, and Paul Arwell had been mayors of the main dome. Ten years ago, her father had broken the trend of Arwell mayors by becoming the chancellor of Zephyria, by way of Trivium Port's Ambassadorial Union—an alliance of ambassadors from all the colonies whose goal was to find a peaceful resolution to the Revolutionary Wars and the injustices perpetrated by the old regime.

As an only child, Gwen found little interest in becoming a pawn in the political arena. Mars would see her as her father's toy. Still princess to the king. And they were probably right. She had disappointed her father, as was shown by his forcing her to work on Lunara and his distant manner toward her as of late. This had left her devoid of confidence when it came to political ambition, and ambition was the driving force on Mars. She could not bring herself to play that game.

To her surprise, her forced assignment to Lunara had opened her eyes to a few things. She enjoyed being part the _Protector's_ crew. The crew had no politicians and no one was angling for other people's positions. Everyone had their role and they did it with the greatest of expertise. She wished some nights, lying in her bed, that she wasn't an Arwell. In a heartbeat, she would quit her role as ambassador and become a full-time crew member of the _Protector_ and a resident of Lunara.

But alas, she was an Arwell, and in a few short years, whether she wanted to or not, she would run for chancellor. She had no way to avoid it other than by death. Unless her father found the data she had collected. She had read it over ten times and still couldn't believe he would be involved in such a plot. The fact that it had Thomas Cross's name all over it meant her suspicions about an Aethpisian plot were more likely.

Yet everything on Mars was so backward now. Who could she believe?

"You look quite exquisite tonight, my lady," a young man said. The starlight beamed through the glass roof across her upper torso, revealing the strapless brown dress that flowed to the floor. Her beautician had braided her hair around the back of her head, and it showed off her long neck.

She wondered who thought the job of a diplomat was pure enjoyment. Her hand and forearm were stretched from the handshaking, her jaw strained to keep the same cordial smile, and she hadn't felt her feet—which were cramped inside a tight, high-heeled dress shoe—in almost thirty minutes. But she held her poise. She always could.

She felt at times that the number one priority of her father's chancellorship was to cultivate her image. She hated having to maintain such a positive exterior just for his legacy. She didn't like creating a false image of herself, and she definitely didn't like coming to all these wonderful parties and being relegated to a glorified showpiece.

She wanted to leave and let the guests enjoy the grand mayors and the local celebrities. She moved one foot back, ready to walk away, but she didn't have the nerve to move her body. Her father needed her to represent the family. The Arwells never placed themselves above the people. If the people demanded an Arwell, she needed to stand in until her father returned.

After several more handshakes and one rib-breaking hug from her old teacher, she heard a murmur from behind her and turned. A hand stroked her shoulder.

"I didn't think you would ever return." She rubbed her forearm. "What was the big emergency?"

Her father smiled. "Nothing but excellent news concerning tonight's events. Why don't you take a break?"

"Gladly."

He comforted her with his cheerful demeanor, but she worried that he might have found out about her escapades a few hours earlier. However, he gave no outward indication that he knew. However, the techs would need all night to analyze the blood she had left on the floor and trace the DNA to her.

"Go enjoy the gala," he said, touching her gently on shoulder.

"I will." She turned and left the line.

The light sound of the orchestra jingled throughout the room, creating a dance in her step.

She walked through the ballroom, searching for any crew members. Of all the crew, Eamonn should have arrived by now. He had been invited to sit at the head table.

Plus, she wanted to discuss the information she had recovered from Zephyria and explain that her father had been set up by someone. The minister was her leading suspect. Thomas Cross and he would have the most to gain by pinning the entire incident on him.

In the meantime, she would try to pry further information from the minister. She worked her way over to the other side of the gala ballroom and spotted the Aethpisian delegation not far away: the minister, several of his aides, and the minister's wife dressed in black beside him. In a similar situation as she had been in, they were greeting guests in a lineup that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

She moved toward the welcoming committee. The guards around the group let her by, since everyone on the planet knew her. She had known since she was a young girl that Damon Arwell's daughter had special privileges, and a flick of the wrist and a soft smile meant unquestioned access.

"Princess Arwell," the minister boomed with his loose tongue.

To her, his exaggerated movements showed he had been drinking real champagne. She had known the minister since she was a little girl, and he always called her a princess, which was why she was known all over Mars by her nickname of Princess Arwell. She smiled. "I hate it when you say that, Kaelin."

"But your fair skin and beauty demand it," the minister replied. "How are you enjoying the day's festivities so far?"

"Pleasant. Where is Sarah? I would like to talk with her. We have a lot of catching up to do."

"Sarah will be joining us shortly. She had last-minute business in Aethpis to attend to," the minister said. "Have you met my new wife before?"

"I don't believe I have had the pleasure."

"This is a good time," the minister said. "This is my wife Erebria Cortez. Erebria, this is the chancellor's daughter, Gwen Arwell." The two ladies exchanged bows.

"Have you been enjoying the evening, Mrs. Cortez?"

"Yes, it is quite adequate, but I am growing tired of this nonsense," she replied as she pointed to the reception line. "I think I shall retire before it finishes. There is nothing here but false smiles and wasted time."

"I understand." Gwen envied this woman who was saying what Gwen had thought her whole life. She turned to the minister. "Kaelin, have you been able to get communications up to Lunara yet? My crew members are anxiously awaiting word."

"No," he said. "Thomas Cross and his team are working tirelessly to fix the problem."

"Surely the damage should be repaired by now," she said with a bit more accusation in her tone than she wanted, but she needed to know.

"Delays," he said. "The gala is hogging most of the resources. You have worked in the bureaucracy of Mars for many years. Surely, you know how things go, but I am sure your crew will get safe passage to Lunara in no time."

He wasn't going to say anything inflammatory, and Gwen didn't want to push too hard. Her suspicions, added to her position on Mars, could ruin the relationship among the colonies. She had to verify it. She hoped that his ego would take hold of his tongue and blurt something out, but his lips tightened—even with the alcohol.

"I will tell the crew not to worry," she said.

"Are they concerned about their accommodations?"

_Besides our invaders housing us, NO!_ "The days are long on Mars without purpose. They are antsy to return."

Murmurs from the crowd turned her head. From out of the crowd, Kyle Cortez raced up to the podium. His eyes focused on his father, ignoring all pleas from the young ladies clamoring for his attention. He mouthed "hello" to Gwen and his stepmother before pulling the minister aside. Mrs. Cortez saw the same concern on the face of her stepson as Gwen did, and Gwen walked over to hear the conversation.

"Miss Arwell," said a voice from her other side. She moved her focus away from Kyle and the minister but kept her ears listening.

"Yes."

"My name is Madelyn White. I am an acquaintance of your friend Eamonn Dalton. I've been looking for him, and I can't find him anywhere. You are a crew member of the _Protector_?"

"Yes," she said, hardly hearing what the woman had said as her attention remained on the more important conversation.

"Shouldn't you be elsewhere, preparing for the unveiling?" the minister said.

Kyle spoke next. "I came to tell you that the engineers were unable to complete it in time. We discovered a problem with the propulsion system—delaying us three or four months."

"No, we will go ahead as planned tonight. I will adjust our timetable accordingly." The minister held his arms down, not wanting to flail them in frustration in front of the crowd. Tight-lipped he said, "They told me the ship was space worthy, so it will fly tonight. I don't want any of their excuses."

"No, your engineers . . ."

"Miss Arwell," Madelyn said over the voices of the minister and his son.

Gwen bristled but gained her composure. "I am sorry, Madelyn was it? My ear had been caught in another conversation when you arrived, terribly rude of me." She hadn't been able to overhear all the conversation and was trying to imagine what the minister was so upset about. "I haven't seen Eamonn or any of the crew tonight. Walk with me, and we can use our four eyes to search for him."

Ushering Madelyn toward the center of the room, she turned in the direction of the minister and Kyle, but they had moved farther down the hallway. From a fair distance, she caught a glimpse of the minister's reddened face and Kyle's drooping shoulders.

Something was up. Her suspicions were right.

She turned back to Madelyn. "In the meantime, you can tell me all about Eamonn. He has always kept to himself when it concerns his personal life, and I would be interested to learn more about him."

"I would like that," Madelyn said. The two ladies started walking around the room looking for their companions. "It all started about fifteen years ago, when we were both in the Martian Flight Academy together . . ."
Chapter 30

Visible from the sky, Zephyrian troops were already moving toward Trivium Port, and judging by the companies' movements along the Mars surface, Eamonn had no doubt they were coming from both Zephyrian and Aethpisian facilities. He hoped Sarah Cortez had come to the same conclusion when she and her four light cruisers broke orbit only a quarter of an hour ago.

The _Protector_ shook as it left the atmosphere of Mars, causing him to clutch the handholds above his cabin door. As he looked out of the curved porthole at the fleet in front of him, four light cruisers and twenty attack fighters—the frightful few Sarah and her loyal supporters could secure—blazed a path toward Lunara.

He scoffed under his breath. The newly formed Alliance was no match for the invasion forces' three cruisers, countless fighters, and the Lunara defense perimeter. Not to mention any other surprises they had secured since the invasion. The Alliance's pitiful fleet would be hard pressed to beat the three larger cruisers, but taking on a stationary target dug into the lunar surface would take a plan unlike any ever conceived.

Eamonn's command experience during the Revolutionary War and his familiarity with Lunara put him in charge of creating the battle plan.

To his benefit, his fleet was agile; the bulky cruisers around Lunara had weak acceleration, and he doubted their fighters had the maneuverability of an Aethpisian Asterfighter—they certainly hadn't shown it when they tried to stop the _Protector_ from coming to Mars.

Examining the Asterfighter closest to his porthole, he knew that the agility of the six-winged fighter—a single-manned cockpit with an upper and lower tail fin running vertically through the hull, all flanked by crossed wings—would give it an advantage over the speedier invasion force fighters in a dogfight.

The enemy fighter's sleek design was more conducive to catch and shoot attacks than to dogfights in confined space. For Eamonn, the ship's awkward design wasn't surprising; since the revolution, there had been a shift from combat fighters to cargo policing fighters. The raiders' illegal cargo runners had continually beaten the more agile Asterfighters. Agility was not needed in the open expanse of deep space because straight line speed overwhelmed any fancy flying.

The _Protector_ provided the best of both worlds for him, agility and pure unbridled speed. And with Parker's quick thinking on Mars, he had more weapons to fend off any attacks this time around. By design, mounted sonic cannons on the front of the ship would weaken the plasma shielding around the cruisers' hulls, and a swiveling sonic gun, filled to capacity with sonic rounds and installed on the top of the _Protector_ between the two starwings, would pierce any type of hull.

He looked back at Mars again and saw no sign of pursuit. In the next few seconds, the quickdrives would activate, propelling them on their way to Lunara.

A rap echoed from the cabin door, and he spun around. Only one person knocked and didn't use the buzzer. He activated the door, and as expected, Jan stood in front of him.

"Are there any problems?" he asked.

"No," she said, walking past him into the cabin without a command to do so.

She had acquired that right as his top advisor, but it irked him today. "Come in," he said.

Jan paused for a moment before she took her usual seat beside his desk. "I didn't think you would mind if we talked."

"No, I guess not," he said, trying to hold back the irritation in his tone. The battle plan weighed on his mind, and he needed time to figure it out entirely. Too many variables skittered about. "Is the bridge squared away?"

"Appears so," Jan said, shifting her legs and crossing one over the other. "Don't get me wrong; they are fine crewmen. I just wish our crew was back together."

"So do I, but this is what it is. They are some of the best the Aethpisians have to offer, and Sarah was generous in giving them to us."

"Are you sure they aren't here to baby-sit us?"

"Most likely . . . I am not naive. Sarah doesn't trust us yet." He moved over to his seat and opened his terminal, which displayed the face of his new tactical officer. "Ripley is a little older than what we are used to aboard starships, but he is an excellent combat officer from the revolutionary wars." He paged to the next face, a young man in his late twenties, well groomed with an elongated face. "Fenor Davis is the best communications officer in the Aethpisian Air Command. Although he is ground-based, he will be invaluable in getting any transmissions from Lunara."

He tapped his finger, and his screen flipped to a young woman. "Shannon Buckley is one of the top pilots in the Air Command. She's in her midtwenties and doesn't have any combat experience, but Ripley assures me she is the best pilot he has ever known."

"Obviously, he has never met Seth," Jan said, smirking.

He smiled back.

"I knew I would cheer you up."

"So you came to cheer me up? I could never have guessed." He turned his terminal off and sighed. "Already, this Alliance will be the death of me."

"Why?"

"Back on Lunara, all we had to worry about was meteors. Now I have to worry about who is trying to betray us and how in the solar system will I ever get the crew back. I let them all down, abandoned three of them on Mars, and allowed Roche to die."

"I want us back together, too . . . but to the far side of the sun with the crew," Jan said firmly. "You are the captain and you make the decisions for good or bad. Seth and Chloe knew the risks when they left for Memnonia Sulci. And Gwen, you can't be sure what to think about her anymore. Undoubtedly, she betrayed us all on Lunara by feeding Zephyria information." Jan sighed. "And Roche was my fault. I sent him to Zephyria."

"No. Seth was right, and I should have believed him," he said. "It is—"

"Damn Seth. He is always making up ways for things to be wrong. You were under no obligation to believe him. He's the boy who cried wolf."

"But he was right this time, and as a captain I should have listened, even with a loose ear." He stood and moved toward the porthole to the front of the cabin. "From when I was a child, I wanted to be a starship captain, but I didn't realize the baggage that came with command—all these complications."

"You are in a special situation," Jan said, moving over to him and placing her hand on his shoulder. "You have been commendable through this. No other person in the solar system could have convinced Sarah Cortez to take back Lunara and shown her how important the meteor stones are."

"I'm shocked she agreed to come to Lunara."

"What do you mean? Lunara must be controlled for the good of this alliance."

"You don't need to convince me." He rubbed his finger into the scar on his forehead. "I thought she would want to save her family."

"She realizes we could do nothing for anyone at Trivium Port. After she decoded the FSTAT message, Hans Bauer's intentions were clear. Metalor is the key. And witnessing the force converging on Trivium . . . Mars is doomed."

"Not completely," he said. "Sarah left her most trusted and loyal officers to form the resistance group, the Alliance. She instructed them to defend Aethpis to their death. They will comply. She also left a stirring message for the Martian Council, delayed of course, in which she outlined the issues and the evidence against Zephyria and asked them for support. She actually begged them to help her." He hesitated and then turned around to face Jan. "She is with us, Jan. If I am wrong, I will never captain another ship as long as I live. She will not stop until the Zephyrian treachery is obliterated."

Jan shook her head. "She doesn't believe we are with them yet. Again, I don't like how the three officers on board are planting bugs and communications piggybacks in our systems."

"You noticed," Eamonn said, the corners of his mouth smirking slightly. "I let them."

"Why?" She exclaimed. "We gave them all the information we know."

"If it makes them comfortable, then we can afford a little discomfort in knowing we are bugged. Parker, you, or I will not betray them."

She nodded.

The _Protector_ rocked gently back and forth, and then suddenly there was a boom, and it came to a jerking halt.

"Don't worry," he said. "We're attaching to the _Unity_ for the voyage."

"I guess I better get going," she said. "I can help with the connection hatchway." She opened the doorway and then stopped, turned around, and looked toward Eamonn. "Don't worry about your crew."

Parker walked the halls of the _Unity_ spying out any innovations, trying to find ways to improve the _Protector_ for the battle to come. But that was not the sole purpose of his journey. He was looking for the quarters of Sarah Cortez. They had four days to spend together—at least on the same ship—and he hoped to apologize. He was unsure if she would even hear him out.

A few corridors farther, he came to the door of her cabin. He rubbed his damp palms on the back of his pants.

The buzzer stared back at him, and he couldn't think of what he would say. He had no excuses for what he did. Entering his mind were only words that would infuriate her, but he had to see her again. However, he couldn't find the courage to knock. He was turning to leave when the door snapped open, and Sarah stood before him.

"It is about . . . time." Her face hardened almost instantly and she glowered.

"Can I come in? I want to apologize. You have had time to calm down."

"Time to calm down?"

He winced—definitely the wrong thing to say.

"I don't think my quarters will be calm for you," Sarah hissed. "I don't have time for your nonsense."

"My apologies are not nonsense, and I mean it."

"You might mean it, but I don't welcome your apology. Where are those blasted technicians? They were supposed to be in my quarters twenty minutes ago to help me set up."

"They will be backed up for hours. I just came from the bridge, and they are scrambling to set up the weapons systems. But I can do it for you."

"So being a thief is a hobby for you," she said.

"I can help you."

She hesitated before easing her stance. "I do need these panels hooked up immediately. Can you do that without bothering me?"

"It won't take me long."

She groaned. "Come in."

Around the cabin, numerous small viewing ports ran along the outer wall. To his left was the bathroom and on the right was her bedroom, with her clothes neatly laid out on the bed.

In the middle of the room lay several display panels. He began to mount the screens to the wall and then ran cables behind each unit to connect them. Sarah only spoke to give him an order or to point out a mistake. After about twenty minutes, he hooked up the final screen and activated the system from the control panel.

"The system needs a few minutes to log into the main network so you can get the feeds from Mars."

"So you aren't a total miscreant?"

"I'm not a bad guy. To tell you the truth, I was upset when they assigned me to your security center."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to upset you."

She cocked her eye. "Upset me?"

"I thought we had a good time the other night at the restaurant. I wanted to call you," he said, trying to catch her eyes, but she dodged him.

"This isn't the time for this," she said.

He reached for her hand and pulled it up to his chest. His fingers massaged her soft hands.

She pulled back but not nearly hard enough for him to release her. She smiled warmly at him as if he had passed some test.

The display screen lit up, startling her. The news coverage of the gala appeared on the screen, showing her father. She moved away from Parker to the wall and touched the screen affectionately. "I shouldn't have left Mars. How could I leave my father trapped in that horrible place? They don't know what is coming, and we can't rescue them. Did I make the right choice?"

He didn't know if she was asking him or herself. "You sent a messenger to warn your father and brother. He will make it to them."

"You know about that," she said. "I doubt he will. The defense perimeter around Trivium Port was too great."

"Those perimeters are set up to stop a fleet of ships or an army of troops. One man can slip past, with an incentive."

"By leaving, I disgraced them."

He stepped toward her. "You made the right choice for Aethpis and for the nonaligned colonies who still believe in the two government system. You didn't disgrace your family by trying to preserve what they worked so hard to build. Your father would be proud of you."

"No, he wouldn't!" she screamed. "I have made a horrible mistake!"

Her body began to tremble, and Parker moved toward her.

She threw herself toward him, her fists clenched.

He caught her and nestled her close to his chest.

"Let go of me!" she said. "It is your fault! If you hadn't been in Aethpis Colony, I would be there with them."

She wept in his arms.
Chapter 31

With Chloe at his side, Seth charged into the gala. His focus hadn't wavered since the ship touched down in the hangar. He wanted to find the chancellor. Only when he stopped to scan the room for him did he realize that the last time Samantha Burns had been with them was somewhere back at the Zephyria private hangar some fifteen levels away. But she mattered little to him. She was only a means to an end.

Immediately, the front of the auditorium caught his attention. The main delegates were sitting at a large table shaped in a half moon. On the left sat the Zephyrian representatives; on the right were the Aethpisians. However, the chancellor wasn't with them.

He scanned the room for Gwen.

They spotted each other almost simultaneously, and she stood and moved toward him.

"Seth, where is the rest of the crew?" Gwen said as she approached. "I am embarrassed. I've been talking about you guys, but there's no one to point out."

"Where is Eamonn?" Chloe said.

Gwen twisted her face, puzzled. "I thought you would know where he is. I haven't seen him."

"Well," Seth said. "They should be here by now. Aren't we the only ones who are late?"

"Where were you? Why are your clothes dirty? This is a gala!"

"Long story." His breathing was heavy from the dash into the gala from the landing platform. "Can you just bring your father over here? It is urgent."

"I don't understand. What were you doing?" Gwen said, looking at both of them. "You should have told me. I'm part of the crew, too!"

"Jan filled you in," Seth said.

"Yes, but she didn't tell me everything."

"You asked for me," the chancellor said from behind them.

Gwen straightened her back, turned around, and twisted her face quizzically toward her father. "What are you doing here?"

The chancellor sneered. "Is that any way to speak to your father? I wanted to meet your friends."

She looked at him skeptically.

Seth took a step forward. "Your life might be in danger. We have evidence."

"My life?" the chancellor said. "Let me see this evidence."

Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out the datapads.

The chancellor looked over the report, while Gwen eyed it from his side. As she read it, her eyes widened in an expression of astonishment. Seeing her reaction justified Seth's instinct. Aethpis had betrayed them.

"This can't be true," Gwen said. "Is it certified?"

"Of course," the chancellor said sharply.

"Seth?" Chloe said.

"What?" He turned when she pulled on his arm.

Chloe darted her eyes around the room, and desperation washed over her face. She begged Seth to stop. "There is something wrong here. I can sense many minds thinking about us."

"That means we were right," Seth said. "Aethpis is planning something for tonight."

"I don't like this," she whispered. "A conspiracy is circulating in the minds of the room."

He scanned the room again. Champagne flowed; laughter tickled the air. Everyone was enjoying the evening. "I don't see anything."

"You can't! Only I can. Their minds show me enough."

Seth pursed his lips and had to admit that he sensed her dread. He turned toward the chancellor. "You should leave now."

"Yes, Father," Gwen said. "Chloe senses things we can't. I can represent Zephyria. You must be kept safe."

"My security force can protect me," the chancellor said. "We should take the offensive and share this information with the world. We can question Aethpis openly. No more secrets."

"That might start a fight," Gwen objected. "This isn't the time or the place for such matters. We need to bring this to the council."

"The more information we share, the more people will understand. Remember when the minister didn't warn Lunara about the incoming invasion force, you felt betrayed. Do you want us to do the same thing to the people of Mars? They need to hear the evidence from someone who has lived through the hardships of the last two weeks. Seth and Chloe can shine the light on the entire situation with a beam brighter than we could in chambers. The public eye will force the Aethpisians to agree to a settlement."

Gwen rubbed her chin. "If my father says this is the right move, it is the right move."

"I will get everyone's attention," the chancellor said.

"I am not much of a speaker," Seth said. "Gwen or you should present the evidence."

The chancellor put his hand on Seth's shoulder. "You are believable. Gwen and I are tainted with a Zephyrian bias. You are from Lunara, and you will be believed."

Gwen nodded. "He has a point. My father and I will not be received like an outsider would. Please, you can do it. I'll summon the attention of the audience. Father, take your seat at the table."

Chloe's doubts passed into Seth. He didn't want to address Mars, but he had to get over his fear and push Aethpis into telling the truth. It was the only way. The chancellor and Gwen were right. He would do this for Lunara, for Ty, for the crew, and for Chloe.

Gwen's father turned around, and she followed his focus toward several people across the room. Thomas Cross stood and rushed toward the exit. She whispered into her father's ear, "Do you think Cross knows what is up?"

"No doubt he does. Do not worry about him," the chancellor said. "Go up to the podium and get people's attention. Quickly."

Her father's defiance of the threat perplexed her. He discounted the apparent threat on his life, and now he ignored Thomas Cross's abrupt departure. Had her father already taken the offensive and was now dangling the Aethpisians by a thin thread? _For what reason?_ she thought.

Doubt crossed her mind, but she trusted her father. He never lied to her. Moreover, he hadn't said anything about Roche's death or the break-in, so he had no reason not to trust her, and he wouldn't use her.

She stepped up to the podium. "Attention. We have an announcement to make."

The crowd stirred with a buzz. Some people stood up and looked around while others turned toward her. After several pleas, the crowd settled down and took their seats.

"Seth Smith from Lunara would like a few moments of our time. You must hear his vital information that concerns the invasion force," she said, stepping aside and allowing Seth to walk up to take command of the podium.

Seth felt like Atlas with the weight of Mars resting on his shoulders, but he could carry the load for the next few minutes. Then he would pass it to the minister.

Chloe grabbed his arm. "I don't think you should make this announcement. Something is off here. Something we aren't seeing. Please, I am begging you. Speak to the council or to Eamonn first."

He narrowed his eyes. "Your feelings justify what I'm about to do. Something is about to happen, and we need to stop it! They can't act if I bring them out of the shadows."

"Ask Eamonn first," she begged.

"Eamonn is gone, and the council will do nothing without pressure," he said. "We need to show the evidence so they won't hunt for us anymore." He looked at her hand on his arm. "Now, please let go."

Chloe squeezed tighter. "Gwen thinks something is wrong. I can sense her doubt, but her father's wishes conflict her. Do not use her to validate your hunches about Aethpis."

He bit his lower lip, fighting through the doubts she put into him. "Your feelings are my validation. You know something is wrong, don't you?"

She nodded.

"The certification is proof enough to pose questions to them," he said. "These datapads are enough to prove they built the invasion fleet."

Her grip loosened, and he walked up to the podium.

He looked out into the audience and fidgeted with the uneasiness of a child in front of his classmates. "My name is Seth Smith. I am a member of the mining ship _Protector_. An unknown force invaded our colony some days ago. Many of you probably think you know all the information, but they told you lies. I come to offer you the true reason Lunara was invaded."

The crowd broke out in little whispers. The camera crew working the gala moved up closer to Seth to get a better shot.

"Settle down. I will explain." He raised his arms to calm the chatter. "Yesterday, Chloe Jones and I—she is also a crew member of the _Protector_ —traveled to a distant colony of Memnonia located in the eastern planitias. We were told this colony was the staging point for a massive attack on Lunara. This was simply not the case, since they use depleted equipment, and their land isn't suited for landing large cruisers. We obtained photos of the area with global positioning markers stamped into the corners to confirm their locations. To believe they staged such an attack on Lunara is absurd.

"In subsequent talks with the leader of the Memnonia, Josef Vhortov, his operatives inside Trivium Port and other colonies have showed that several vital resources were hidden within the accounting statements of a colony. This colony deceived us into thinking that we had nothing to worry about after the invasion of Lunara. That it was back under the control of Ty Falloom and Mars Central. The invaders also claimed that we could not communicate with anyone on Lunara, but this simply isn't the case. They have been communicating the entire time. These certified datapads hold the truth, and we want them to admit their mistake and offer an apology and full reimbursement for all the damages done."

A senior delegate from the Zephyrian table stood and shouted, "Who are the invaders?"

"The members of Aethpis Colony can offer the answer. The minister and Thomas Cross lied to us."

The minister leapt up from his chair and pounded the table. "You fool. Your statements are ridiculous and filled with blasphemous lies. I demand the evidence."

"What is he doing?" Eamonn screamed in exasperation. "This is some kind of cruel joke aimed at me."

The screen displayed a full-length picture of Seth. Chloe was close behind him, standing beside Gwen. The angry minister moved down from the table and began to yell. The conversation was inaudible on the holotube, but the overall tone was unmistakably intense.

"Why is he doing such a thing?" Jan said. "He said he had evidence. The chancellor and Gwen tricked him somehow." Guided by her maternal instincts, she was trying to find a reason to defend him. She balled her hands into fists.

"If Seth was on the bridge, he would be on his butt," Eamonn seethed. "And to think I was beginning to believe what he said about Mars. He is still all backward."

The whish of the door sounded, and they both turned around. Eamonn already knew who it would be and had hoped to delay the confrontation by a couple of minutes.

Sarah Cortez strode across the bridge.

"What is the meaning of this mockery on the holotube?" she said. "Guards, arrest the crew of the _Protector_."

"Wait!" Eamonn said, holding his hands up. "We are as surprised as you are."

"Aren't those three a part of your crew?" A vein on the side of Sarah's temple throbbed. "They are accusing my colony of hiding resources for a sinister plot. Did you lure my ships away so your fight on Mars would be easier?"

"Now listen here," he blasted back. "We are your ally. I don't know why they are saying those things on the holotube, but they aren't true. We will die fighting beside Aethpis and the Alliance. Those crew members were lied to just as you and I were."

"I'm not a fool. They believe what they are saying."

"They probably do, but they don't know the entire truth."

Jan knocked her hand against the paneling, drawing their attention. "We were all in agreement that someone on the inside of Aethpis had been helping the chancellor. Therefore, we are safe to assume that they made it appear like the minister took the resources from Aethpis." Jan paced around her workstation. "Bear with me."

"I have a limited amount of patience," Sarah replied.

"All I ask is a minute," Jan said. "Now, obviously, Chancellor Arwell wants total control of the meteor stones. So first, he makes it look like an outer, nonaligned colony invaded Lunara to delay Mars's reaction to his treachery. And with him taking the communications array down, Mars has no way to verify Lunara's status, aside from believing Thomas Cross and his report, and since even the minister—with no reason to disbelieve—supported Cross's report, the rest of Mars accepted the explanation. Step one complete."

Sarah put her hands on her hips. "Your tale doesn't explain your crewmates accusing my colony of being traitors—"

Jan raised her hand toward Sarah. "Step two, the chancellor needs to discredit Minister Cortez and make it look like Aethpis did all the dirty work. Once the Martian people believe Aethpis is the evil colony," Jan put her hand up before Sarah could defend Aethpis, "which isn't true, Zephyria will be the rightful heir to total power across Mars."

"What are Chancellor Arwell's motives? The two colonies have a great relationship," Sarah countered. "Damon Arwell worked with my grandfather for years to build the two governments during the height of the revolution. He wouldn't betray us."

"He did," Jan replied sharply, "because the chancellor is forbidden to run for office after his term is up. Force is the only way he can continue in power."

"But Seth Smith . . . he must be part of this," Sarah said. "Somehow. Why him?"

"Seth hates Mars. He is loyal to one thing: Chloe. He would never do anything to hurt her, and he would do anything to save her. The chancellor spotted his weakness and used it against him, giving the illusion that Chloe was in trouble and then leading Seth to a solution. When in reality, he tricked him into discrediting Aethpis. Additionally, now that Seth trusts him, he will capture Seth and Chloe."

Eamonn rubbed the scar along his forehead. "Why didn't the chancellor present the evidence implicating Aethpis at the council debriefing? They would question the minister. Why delay? Why risk Seth cooperating, willing or not?"

"He used Seth as a naïve pawn to bring credibility to the false reports," Jan said. "Seth is from Lunara. Lunara is neutral. If a Lunaran takes a side, it must be true. The population will believe him. Jinx, someone from Titan Colony or Ares station could been used . . . as long as the person throwing accusations is not from Zephyria."

Sarah relaxed her stance. "The chancellor would need someone outside of Zephyria to make the claim, or disputes would tangle the council for months. By using a Lunaran as the voice box of these lies, he will bring credibility with the nonaligned colonies. They have no reason to distrust anyone on Lunara. Ingeniously evil."

"Shh," Eamonn hissed. "Something's happening. Soldiers are entering the auditorium."

The camera swung around toward the entrance doors as troops poured in. A woman in a green dress appeared on the screen.

"Madelyn! She came!" Eamonn cried. Suddenly the screen went black. "Put it back on!" His eyes flared with anger and turmoil as if a sun had hit supernova within him.

Jan tapped over the control panel. "I can't. They disconnected it at the source. The cameraman is probably dead."

Sarah spoke in a hollow voice. "It has begun."

"Get her out of here," the chancellor barked to his troops from the front of the auditorium. He pointed at Gwen.

The guards grabbed her by the arms and began to escort her out of the room.

Feeling the iron grips around her biceps, Gwen squirmed and flailed in protest. Her mind raced with confusion, anger, and concern, all mixed with a million questions. "Father, what happened?" She couldn't think of anything more pertinent to say.

He turned toward her briefly before shifting his gaze to a nearby guardsman.

In that glimpse, looking at his eyes, she saw the coldness that drained all emotion from his face. It frightened her. "I want to be here," she said.

Her father ignored her pleas. Two guards squeezed her arms hard and yanked her toward the exit.

But before she was out of the room, Samantha walked past. "Sam, don't let them take me!" she pleaded. "I know you can stop this."

Samantha glared at her with a coldness that matched that of Gwen's father. "You will understand later why you were taken away."

"You can't let them hurt Seth," she pleaded. "Can I still trust you?"

Samantha moved over and stood in front of her. The guards held her firmly.

"I can't guarantee anything," Samantha said. "Seth and Chloe are vital to our cause. Your father will explain everything to you, but later. Please go with the guards." With a flick of her wrist, she signaled the guards to take Gwen out of the building.

Inside Gwen, every thought and emotion turned into wrath as she watched Samantha waving to the guards. Samantha Burns did not command her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Using the guard's firm grip to brace her arms, she kicked her feet with all her strength at Samantha and caught her in the midsection.

Samantha doubled over, winded. She sank to one knee and wheezed several labored breaths.

Immediately, the guards yanked Gwen out of the auditorium and into a waiting hovercar.

After a series of twists and turns of her torso, she realized—as she heard the hum of the hovercar speeding away—it was useless to continue to struggle, and she relaxed her tense muscles. She was alone in the back of the car. They had sent her to Lunara, hidden this from her, betrayed her, and she could do nothing about it.

For now.

Chloe stared in horror as Samantha Burns walked along the back of the auditorium. The hate that emanated from the woman created an aura around her that Chloe had a hard time ignoring.

The room was utter chaos. Women were screaming, men were pleading for release, and troops were barking orders at them. The perimeter troops controlled all the exits. The Aethpis and Zephyrian guards used the threat of their electrostick to secure the delegates. The minister, his wife, and Kyle Cortez were on their knees at the front table. Seth was also on his knees, unable to do anything.

Chloe's mind raced with anger. The chancellor had successfully tricked them into pinning this entire ordeal on Minister Cortez. She wanted to crawl into the largest hole on Mars and never be found.

Samantha came around the far side of the room and stared at Seth for a long moment. She smiled and moved toward them, continuing to watch Seth.

Chloe tried to probe her mind, but Samantha's anger was too great. Approaching them, Samantha's thoughts became clearer; she was thinking of Gwen with regret and anger.

From behind, the guards cuffed them.

"I see they put you on your knees," Samantha said with smugness. "That should safely repress any of your acrophobia episodes."

"Everything all right with Gwen?" Chloe replied.

Samantha bit her lip and tightened the muscles in her arm. A stream of wrath knifed from her mind.

Chloe smirked, knowing she had hit a sore spot.

Samantha didn't stalk toward her for revenge. Instead, she moved to Seth, knelt beside him, and then cupped his chin with her right hand and held the back of his head with her left. He struggled, but she held his head in place and glowered directly at Chloe just before she kissed his resisting lips.

"Stop that!" Chloe hissed but immediately regretted it, realizing that Samantha had successfully goaded her into a desperate reply.

"I don't know. I would let Gwen take him after we were done, but I should keep him for myself. He is a sturdy man. He can provide me with a strong child." She moved her hand down between his legs.

Seth twisted his body to avoid her gesture. "Never. You would be better off mating with a horse."

Chloe shuffled on her knees, kicked her foot toward Samantha but missed by a long stretch and tumbled to the ground. Without hesitation, the guard knelt beside her, pressing his rifle against her neck. She groaned.

Samantha let out a whimper of a warning to the guard, but Seth was too fast for him and kicked his foot out, slamming it hard into the guard's exposed ankle and returning to his original position before anyone could react.

The guard squealed in pain and dropped to the ground.

Samantha moved several paces back from Seth.

"Guardsmen!" she called out to a trio of soldiers lined up along the wall. They hustled over to the group. "The fun is over. Take this officer to the medical ward," she said, indicating the injured soldier. Then she gestured to Seth and Chloe. "Pull her up beside him again and watch them. Don't injure them. Just keep them in line. If they give you trouble, find me."

Created by fear and panic, the smell of sweat filled the auditorium, forcing Seth to cringe his nose.

Dismay soaked through him as the Zephyrian forces took control. The room split into two sections. The first section was the crowd of guests who had been dining on the main floor area. A circle of troops held them in check. The soldiers scurried to empty the head table, and everyone, from the unimportant people to the chancellor, moved to the floor.

At the table, Thomas Cross set up a command station and read data from some sort of tracking system. Seth tried, but he couldn't determine what he was looking at on the screen.

Seth was situated in the second section. Minister Cortez, his wife, Erebria Cortez, and his son Kyle Cortez were to his left, positioned directly in front. Chloe was close to him to the right side. A number of guards were close by, some of whom aimed their sonic rifles toward him. Not surprising, after what he had done to the soldier only minutes before.

Immediately behind him, too far away, the chancellor—with his personal platoon of troops between him and any danger—talked inaudibly with Samantha. Even though Seth couldn't hear him, a quick appraisal of the look on his face made it clear that he was pleased.

Twenty or so minutes had passed since the uproar began, and the crowd had settled down to a dull roar from their hysteria. The troops ordered them to take their seats and keep quiet, using electrosticks to coerce the crowd into compliance. The cameraman who had been filming the event lay in the corner of the room with a large welt on his neck. Seth wondered if a stun that close to the neck would cause permanent damage.

Seth fretted. The plan had worked to perfection for the Zephyrians. No, not the Zephyrians—he couldn't believe that the Zephyrian colony would stand for this blatant act of terror. The chancellor had acted on this own accord using people from both colonies. Thomas Cross's involvement proved Aethpis had sympathizers. _How had they deceived me so easily?_ thought Seth. _What could I have seen differently?_

He shook his head. Chloe had been right. He should have paused for only a moment and rationally thought over the evidence. The chancellor had railroaded him and played him for a fool.

He _was_ a fool. Even with the brutal treatment of the people in the crowd, the way Samantha had mocked Chloe, and the chancellor's conspiracy, Seth was most angry with himself. He had let them manipulate him into saying those lies on the holotube. Chloe warned him, but he had been too impatient gathering the truth. The lies suited his desire for personal assurances.

"It wasn't your fault. We were both fooled," Chloe whispered to him. "I should have seen his intentions when we talked earlier with Samantha. My fears blinded me."

"Your abilities aren't as reliable as simple logic. I was the fool. I let the entire planet down, and I disgraced Lunara."

"We will atone for it," she reassured him. The guards nudged them with the tips of their rifles, signaling them to remain silent.

"May we have your attention?" Samantha said over the public address system.

The room fell silent, eerily silent considering the hundreds of people in the giant auditorium. The chancellor moved toward the center in front of where the Cortez family was being held. As Thomas Cross walked toward the chancellor, carrying a single datapad, Seth's heartbeat synchronized with the booming echo of Cross's boots as they thumped against the floor. The agonizing twenty steps pulled on his chest.

After the chancellor took the datapad from Cross, he flipped it open, stared at it for a few moments, and lifted his head toward the crowd.

"The following people will take their place beside the minister and his family when I call out your names." He paused. "Consul Peter Reilly."

A man in the crowd stood; his face was ashen. The man kissed his wife and moved up to the front.

"Consul Marcus Black." Another man stood, looking as distressed as the first. A few bystanders consoled the man's wife. The chancellor called up three more men and one woman. As each was called, they would all try to put on a proud face in the hope that the crowd would settle and relax. It was false heroics, but Seth envied their attempts to be brave in a dire situation.

Judging by the titles of all the people called, they were obvious threats to the chancellor's power. All but one were consuls from Aethpis Colony; the lone Zephyrian called to the front was a mayor of one of the domed communities.

"Diplomatic Aide Sarah Cortez."

The room went silent.

The chancellor called a number of times more, but no one moved or attempted to point out her location.

Seth had forgotten that name. He had talked to Parker about her after their meeting aboard the _Protector_ , and he had a hunch that Parker liked her. She was the final member of the Cortez family. Seth smirked; finally, the chancellor had hit a bump in the road.

"What is the matter, Chancellor? Can't find someone on your list?" After his voice echoed through the auditorium, Seth wished that he had remained silent.

"Quiet!" the chancellor yelled from the center of the room. "Samantha, would you show him what I do with insubordination."

Samantha moved over toward Chloe and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. Samantha slid out an electrostick from her side. She fingered the control settings. "This is the lowest setting." The tip lit up with a blue streak.

"You won't hurt her, you need us," Seth said, trying to bait him.

"We need her alive. A little pain will not deter us or lower her usefulness. We know your weakness! Her."

He lowered his eyes.

The electrostick moved in toward her neck, and Chloe tried to track it. Then her eyes darted to him. He could do nothing for her. The blue streak leaped out.

She squealed, a horrific terrible squeal, and with one swift twitch she fell to the floor.

He pulled his fists into tight balls, and with a short quick breath he used every ounce of control to hold back and not lash out at the soldiers within a five-meter radius of him. If he acted out again, Chloe would suffer.

The guards picked her up, and he looked into her glassy eyes. Her shock and pain was reflected in them. For the next little while, she wouldn't be entirely at the gala.

"Now, I hope that is a lesson for you," the chancellor barked.

Samantha pushed Chloe toward Seth and took her place back behind him.

"Stop this!" The minister spoke for the first time. "Sarah did not attend the gala this evening. You are wasting your time trying to find her. She is probably in the deepest hole on Mars figuring out a way to pay you back. And she will succeed."

"Be silent," the chancellor ordered. "She is of minor concern. She doesn't need to be here for my plan to be complete." He paced back and forth, giving the impression of being deep in thought.

Seth could tell he was being dramatic, flaunting his superior position of the moment.

"You must be wondering why I have gone to this extreme," the chancellor said. "I love Mars, and I love the people of Mars. Over the last several years, Aethpis Colony has been using its resources inappropriately. Mr. Smith pointed out these anomalies as evidence.

"When people left Earth because of the Great Impact, we struggled for two hundred years to make Mars our new home. We built glorious colonies, both Aethpis and Zephyria. We are in the process of terraforming Mars into a more terrene environment, and ironically, we mine the meteor fragments from the same meteor cluster that destroyed Earth's civilization.

"Unbeknownst to everyone, those meteors turned out to be more special than any of you realize. Seth and Chloe," he pointed toward them, "are the first and presently the only two people to evolve into a greater human than we could have ever thought possible. Seth is strong and immune to all known diseases. Chloe can sense emotions and thoughts. I believe they owe both of those traits to the meteor stones. As of now, they are only harnessing a small percentage of their total abilities. With the help of Hans Bauer, we will find out what makes these two special and create a civilization that can survive all tests of our abilities. It is our right to run this solar system and not allow it to bully us. We will survive, and we will reign far into the future."

The chancellor pressed his thumb and forefinger together to emphasize each point.

_Eugenics._ Seth grit his teeth together, holding in his anger and his tongue from saying anything. After all the speculation and arguing with the crew, it turned out the invasion force _was_ after them. Mars Medical lied . . . Mars lied again. He narrowed his eyes, trying to reach out to the chancellor in some way.

"My new government will put an emphasis on researching the meteor stones to find the reason why it made them special. We need to find out its secrets to survive the next incursion by meteors, comets, and everything the galaxy can throw at us. Earth's greatest disaster will be man's greatest evolutionary step."

Most of the crowd was in disbelief as they tried to process the speech, but one woman stood up and began to move to the front. Seth watched her carefully, but the guards ignored her as they quelled an unsettled group of consuls.

As the woman slipped past the guards, she screamed, "Aethpis and Zephyria colonies have worked too hard for you to destroy it all with such foolishness."

With a final step to the chancellor, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Blood dotted the floor as his left cheek displayed a gash.

The chancellor patted at his face. The blood painting his fingers grew an odd fire in his eyes. He glared at the woman's open hand.

She showed him what she had done—how she had inverted her ring.

The surge of retribution delighted Seth, until he saw what happened next. The chancellor curled his lip and glared at Thomas Cross. Even if Seth could have helped, he had no time. Cross pulled out a pistol and pointed it toward the woman.

BANG!

The woman didn't even see who had shot her. Blood sprayed over guests behind her, and they shrieked. She clutched her abdomen with both of her hands and staggered in Seth's direction. She groaned when her body hit the floor.

The pool of blood oozed out from under her. If nobody did anything, she would die, but no one moved to help her. They were all scared.

Chloe stirred, and Seth whispered to her, "I have to go over to that woman. I can't watch her die."

"They might hurt you this time," she mumbled. "We can't risk it."

"No one should be alone when they die." Seth crawled the few meters toward the woman.

Chloe followed on her knees, her cuffed hands moving together across the floor.

"Hey," yelled the guard. "Back to your spot."

"I will not watch her die," Seth snapped back. You can shoot me,"

The guard looked toward the chancellor.

"Let them be," the chancellor replied. "She will serve as a warning."

Seth moved the woman's head onto his lap. Her face was white and cold to the touch, the blood draining from her skin.

Chloe held her hand with her cuffed hands.

"What is your name?" Chloe asked.

"Mad . . . Madelyn White," the woman replied then coughed up blood. Seth wiped the blood from her chin with his fingers.

"My name is Chloe, and this is Seth. We will be here with you until help comes."

"Help isn't coming." She coughed again. "I am getting cold. I don't want to die." She struggled to keep her eyes open.

"I'm here." Chloe squeezed her hand.

Seth wanted the chancellor and Thomas Cross to show some sign of remorse. Their faces were blank. They moved away from Madelyn, callously preparing for the next phase of the plan.

"Are you the two from the _Protector_?" Madelyn said, coughing once again.

Seth wiped the blood from her chin, but too much of it flowed out for him to clear away. Blood covered his fingers, his nails, and the palms of his hands.

"Yes, we are crew members," Chloe replied. "Did you see us on the news?"

"I did," Madelyn murmured. "Please, tell Eamonn that I came, that I used the ticket he gave me. He'll know what I mean." She went limp.

"She is fading." Chloe sighed with an urgent panic in the back of her throat. "I can hardly feel her now."

"A medical crew could have saved her," Seth said. "They could have closed this wound and stopped the bleeding." He brushed Madelyn's hair from her eyes, which were still battling to stay open. "Madelyn, are you still there?"

Madelyn attempted to open her eyes, but they were only narrow slits. She coughed violently.

Seth tried his best to clear the blood away from her mouth. Madelyn tried to say something, but he couldn't hear her faint words. He leaned in toward her mouth.

"Tell Eamonn to be happy." Madelyn's grip on Chloe's hands weakened, and Seth noticed that tears were falling down his cheeks.

Seth didn't want to watch her die. Tilting his head up, he glared at the chancellor. If Chloe weren't in danger, he would have jumped across the room and killed him where he stood. His fists tightened harder each time the arrogant chancellor smirked at him. His fingernails dug into his palms, and his blood mixed with Madelyn's and dripped to the floor.

"She is gone," Chloe murmured. She took Madelyn's arms and placed them neatly on her chest. "I will do my best to tell Eamonn your words and your bravery."

The chancellor's pompous smile got bigger. He was enjoying the spectacle.

Seth was more appalled than ever.

"The time has come now," the chancellor called out to the room. "These men and women lined up before us have led Mars in the wrong direction. They have become an obstacle toward our perfection. I will not stand idle while another meteor destroys our home. Where will we turn next? Back to Earth? Toward Io? Neither is suitable for humans. We need to control our own destiny, and the first action will be to clear all the unnecessary bumps in our road."

He motioned for several of his troops to move in behind the lined up prisoners. He moved to the side of the line and raised his right arm. "Today, we begin our goal to attain perfection." He lowered his arm.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The dining hall echoed the thunderous claps. One by one, the line fell, the people dying instantly from a bullet to the head: the consuls, the minister's wife, Kyle Cortez, and finally, the minister. The crowd gasped. Several women fainted or slumped to the ground.

The chancellor's final words were a sharp order to Samantha. "Bring them to Hans Bauer." He pointed toward Chloe and Seth.

Before his bodyguards could escort the chancellor out of the room, Chloe screamed out, "Justice will fall upon you, Chancellor."

Seth didn't know what to feel. He was angry with those who had perpetrated the conspiracy, he was mournful for the death of the woman whose head was still in his lap, and he was terrified of what might happen to Chloe in the custody of Hans Bauer. Mostly, though, embarrassment pained his heart. He had betrayed humanity to an evil Mars.

He tilted his head toward the glass roof above, searching the sky for an answer, but a layer of dark clouds shrouded the planet.

Mars had attacked him again.
Part III
Chapter 32

Gwen turned off the holotube and tossed the remote onto the table. She let out a long sigh. All in one motion, she swung her feet on the couch and wedged a pillow under her head. Her eyes closed.

Not able to sleep since early the previous day, her body was exhausted, but her mind still raced with yesterday's events. She had watched the holotube nonstop, looking for any information from the gala after she had left. Her father had restricted communications, and only snippets of propaganda were released to the public, including his infamous speech. For some reason, unbeknownst to her, yet not surprising given her father's popularity with the people, the public accepted his vision and his new government. She suspected that the minister's lies, combined with her father's swift action in uncovering and eliminating the plot, were the main reason. Plus, it didn't help that so many within the Aethpisian government backed his position. They were the _rival_ government, and if they concurred with her father's statements, those statements must be true. Yet to her, her father had acted uncharacteristically in a terrifying manner. The newscast said the minister's treachery had been too great, and he had received revolutionary-style justice. Her father had executed him and the others on the spot, leaving them no opportunity to defend themselves, as if they were raiders. It made no sense. In the ten years since the revolution, society had moved past that swift, emotion-driven justice.

She rubbed her temples. _Why has Samantha shirked all loyalty to me? What were they thinking?_ They had to have a sane reason. She didn't like the conflict between her trust in them and her gut instinct that they acted for control of Mars. It left her with sourness in the back of her mouth.

"Samantha," she whispered. "What happened to you after I left for Lunara?"

Since Gwen had arrived back on Mars, Samantha had been distant and preoccupied. The old Samantha would have told her everything happening in her life. Now, she said nothing while she planned the takeover of the Aethpisian government. Gwen couldn't get Samantha's last words out of her head, "Seth and Chloe are vital to our cause." What was the cause?

She punched the cushion of the couch and grunted in frustration. "Think, Gwendolyn, think," she screamed. All the news reports indicated a deception in the ranks of Aethpis. According to the newspapers, Thomas Cross discovered a plot by the minister to control the meteor stone production on Lunara. Cross went to her father and told him about the plot.

Then . . .

In an act of rebellion, he and Cross conspired to stop the minister and his attempt to take over Lunara and the meteor stones. Concurrently, Seth's report at the gala stated that the minister had been misusing metalor and wasting it on unnecessary and unknown projects _. Had my father already known about this report? If so, why would he wait for Seth or someone else to find it?_ He could have taken the evidence to the council right away.

_Jinx._ Even if he decided to be patient and hold it back, he had already decided that force was needed to take back Lunara. She was on Lunara. _Why didn't he involve me in trying to stop the invasion from within the colony itself?_ She would be an invaluable informant. Her father didn't use her, though, and that meant he didn't trust her anymore. Someone else had to be on Lunara. Who?

She pursed her lips. Something was missing, because none of the conjecture answered the question of why he would need Seth and Chloe, especially if their stated goal was to stop Aethpis from controlling Mars. Samantha stated they were important . . . and so did Hans Bauer . . .

She moved over to her computer terminal, hoping to find some nugget of information. She slid her card into the authentication slot.

The terminal buzzed.

< _Unauthorized_ >

She smacked the side of the terminal. Another system had locked her out—first her apartment door and now her communications systems. Her father had trapped her in her apartment with no way of finding her fellow crew members.

The crew probably thought she had betrayed them by spying on Lunara for Zephyria. Her father's actions were driving her crazy. Usually she agreed with him, and she did as he advised, but the shroud he placed over her undermined the confidence she had in him.

Out of the window, the Zephyrian domes seemed content. Dome 4 was where her life had changed—a reckless decision that had forced her father to send her to Lunara . . . to learn how to be a diplomat. More than ever, she wanted to go back two years and erase the mistake that had sent her to Lunara. Then she would be on Mars and able to stop her father's actions. She turned away from the window. The memories disgusted her.

She entered the bathroom, ran the water to her sink, and splashed it against her face. As she looked into the mirror, she focused on her eyes. Her makeup ran down her cheek, splitting into multiple lines. Frustrated, she grabbed a towel and wiped her face clear of the makeup and the tears. "Time to be strong, Gwen. No crying, no emotion."

The door to the apartment clicked open, and heavy boots hit the ground of the marbled foyer at the main entrance. She straightened herself and looked at her face one last time. It was clear, and her eyes showed no signs of tears.

"My food was supposed to be ready three hours ago," she said as she shot out of the bathroom door toward the main area. But she stopped abruptly when she saw who was standing in front of her. "Father, what is happening? I expected word from you long ago. I had almost given up hope."

"I've been busy. I came to see you."

"Busy doing what?" She snapped her tone short, beginning to reclaim the anger she had felt when they had dragged her out of the gala. "I'm an important diplomat for you. I don't like to be escorted out like a child, and I definitely don't like to be left out of essential developments on Lunara. You assigned me to represent the Zephyrian people. Where was the explanation for either of those embarrassments for me?"

"I removed you for your own safety. The situation was becoming volatile. You're a diplomat, and you don't fight battles."

"You are right. I don't fight battles. I talk to people and work the problem out, peacefully. The holotube shows the biggest battle since the revolutionary days," she said. "Zephyria reconciles differences with diplomatic solutions. Why are we starting a fight when all the Aethpisians did was hide resources? That seems extreme."

"The entire story isn't clear to you, and the people have heard all they need to hear. The Aethpisians were wasting the resources and using them to build a secret fleet."

"You should have brought this to the council." She eyed him, looking for any reaction that would indicate the truth. He gave none. "They'll want proof, aside from the circumstantial evidence Seth showed us."

"The council is no more. They dissolved themselves in a unanimous vote. They gave me absolute power to find and bring Mars to full glory. The administrators can no longer be trusted, and I convinced them of this."

"This isn't how Mars is supposed to be," she said. "We formed a two-government system so a single leader wouldn't control us. Now you are the absolute leader with no checks or balances. Didn't the past ten years mean anything to you?"

"Gwen, this is only until we straighten out the mess. Aethpis and Zephyria will vote on its own. This crisis is more complex than you might believe."

She looked into his eyes; a hollowness removed all emotion in them. He could not focus on her. "Then tell me what you know," she said.

"I can't." He walked to the window. "If your mother were here, she would probably be acting that same way you are. One day, I promise to tell you what happened, but I can't now. You will have to trust me."

"I want to help. Why can't I leave my apartment? Surely, Zephyria is safe from the fighting."

"I fear for your safety. I'll send Samantha to keep you company."

"No. I think we will be mad with one another for a while." Gwen frowned. "I want Seth and Chloe. Send them to me."

"My people are debriefing them," he said, a finality resounding in his tone. "Did you need food?"

She decided it was better to leave it alone. "Don't worry about it. I'm not hungry. I just needed someone to yell at."

"I understand. This is frustrating for us." Her father moved up to her and put his arms around her. "Your mother would be proud of your commitment."

"It is good to be back on Mars. Home is always kind, even in such dire circumstances." She put her arms around him. She needed to gain his trust again. "If you need my help, you know where to find me."

"You are the best daughter in the whole solar system."

"Not the universe?" She smiled back at him.

"There was this daughter on Beta Pictoris Six . . ."

"Oh, shut up," she smirked. "Go back to your meetings. I'll be fine here."

She paused, making sure his eyes were looking into hers. "Father, I'll always support you."

His eyes softened, but she knew his fake political explanations and the hollowness from the gala remained. He had tricked her then, but she would never forget that look again.

"Thank you for understanding. It means a lot to me." He kissed her on the forehead and straightened her jacket. "You should shower and change. These clothes are wrinkled. You're too beautiful for that."

"I'll fix myself after you leave. I have all the time in the world." She escorted her father to the door. He gave her one last kiss, and she closed it.
Chapter 33

"And the alien says, 'That's not a saucer, it's a plate,'" Parker said in Sarah Cortez's quarters aboard the _Unity_.

Sarah giggled. She smiled at Parker. Her face turned red, and she smiled broadly. Her clear skin, flowing hair, and high-stretched cheeks enchanted Parker.

But as fast as she smiled, she shifted back to her familiar solemn expression. "I shouldn't be laughing at your jokes."

"Why not?" He moved across the couch to get close to her sweet and fruity aroma.

"They murdered my parent and destroyed my life. I shouldn't be enjoying our dinner so much."

"Your beautiful face should enjoy every opportunity it can to smile and laugh. You honor them with both your tears and your laughter."

"Such eloquent words from a mechanic," she said. "I'm glad you came to apologize."

He smiled slightly.

She quickly said, "You showed courage to come to my quarters and apologize after what I accused you of."

"I would have concluded the same thing in your shoes." He turned to the bay window overlooking the trailing ships. "I'm sorry again. I did it for Lunara."

"I know," she said. "You don't have to keep apologizing."

Parker stared at her for a long moment.

She kept her eyes on him.

"Did you read over all the transmissions from the FSTAT system?" he said.

"Yes. It was my father's code."

"Really?" Her admission surprised him. He had not expected her ever to confirm it. "Your father's?"

"My father was set up, so it had to be his codes used to convince Mars he was behind the invasion. Reading those transmissions pained me . . . those MSA soldiers pretending to be loyal to my father, giving orders in his name when it was clearly not him. I'm convinced more than ever that fate sent you to break into our security center, thus saving my life. You'll allow me to recapture my family's reputation."

"We wanted to save Lunara." Fate had been a faith on Mars for a long time. Jan told him she believed in fate and would probably agree with Sarah. He had doubts that his intentions controlled Sarah's future. "But after our capture, Jan trusted you would help us."

"I understand and am honored," she said. "I invited you here tonight because you will be the point man for the task force entering Lunara. The mission is dangerous."

"Eamonn already went over the mission specs with me." He stood up and moved to the bay window. "Did I miss something he didn't tell me about?"

"No, you have a high probability of not even getting on Lunara. The two transport ships assigned to you will likely be shot down."

"You really know how to motivate your fleet." He spied the faint red glow of Mars over the portside engine mount. Two days, according to Sarah, is all he had left to live. He would never see Mars again. "I hope you don't close your battle speech with that tone."

"You misunderstand." She rose to her feet and stood beside him. "Eamonn made me realize this battle is almost hopeless for the fleet. I don't expect any of us to come out of this alive, but it is—fate prevailing—our only hope."

Parker could hardly believe her pessimism. "Why are you sending us there if you believe we will all die?"

"Because we are at war, and this is our best shot at victory. Mars is polluted and corrupt. We can trust no one. With the meteor cluster targeting Earth, Lunara is the single most important sector of real estate in the solar system."

"You don't need to convince me. Why are you telling me this? Surely your advisors and Eamonn convinced you."

She moved closer to him. "Again, you don't understand—"

"No, I don't think so." He pulled her in close and pressed his lips against hers.

Her body trembled. She pushed back and looked at him, narrowing one eye.

"I'm sorry . . . I thought you wanted me to . . ." He couldn't muster any more words through his embarrassment.

Instead of running away, she moved in and pressed her lips harder against his. He closed his eyes and wanted the moment to last for a lifetime. He moved his lips around hers, and she let him have his way with the kiss.

"Lady Cortez," the computer sounded. "A transmission request is waiting at your terminal."

They parted, and Sarah mumbled a few words, then finally was able to speak. "I . . . I must take this." She swallowed the last of the words.

He bit his lower lip. "Jan has returned."

In the cold dark vacuum of space, the Alliance fleet rested, consisting of four light cruisers, a war-retrofitted _Protector_ , a minimal complement of fighters, and two shielded transport boats. At the head, _Unity_ , the flagship, rested three hundred thousand kilometers from the moon. Out of their view, Lunara faced the Earth.

For the moment, Eamonn had the fleet hiding from Lunara's radar. He, Jan Falloom, Sarah Cortez, and the captains from the four cruisers were present in the war room for the battle briefing. They sat around a circular table. In the middle, a lighted display screen projected a holophoto of the Earth's system; the moon, with three battle cruisers stationed around Lunara in a triangular pattern, was visible as the presentation started.

Eamonn hammered his fist on the table. The chatter died. "An hour ago, Lead Pilot Jan Falloom returned with a detailed reconnaissance of Lunara and its defensive system. We'll go over her findings. However, first, Lady Cortez has good news from Mars."

Sarah cleared her throat. "On Mars, Trivium Port and Zephyria Colony are in control of the Martian Supremacy Authority, the MSA."

"MSA is a figurehead title," said the captain of the _Sheriff_ , Nathan Terry. "I call them Zephyria!"

"No," snapped Sarah. "Many Zephyrians risked their lives for us. This is a new organization made up of Zephyrians, Outer Colony members, Trivium Port personnel, and even Aethpisians. The Martian Supremacy Authority is real, Captain, and you better accept them as reality."

Captain Terry visibly swallowed and remained quiet.

Eamonn understood Terry's frustrations with the former chancellor, but many Aethpisians had orchestrated the conspiracy against Mars and labeling them anything other than MSA did an injustice to the Alliance members from both Aethpis and Zephyria.

Sarah shifted in her seat and surveyed everyone at the table. "Let me detail our support and our adversaries, before we make judgments. As I was saying, Trivium Port and Zephyria were overrun with MSA troops. They took control of those colonies within twelve hours of . . . the incident. The attack split Aethpis down the middle, and the colony is the most heavily contested sector.

"Early analysis from our tactical department provided us with some encouraging numbers. The MSA overextended itself or overestimated support in many of the sectors. We believe they can't extend their territory without exposing themselves, and the delay will buy us valuable time."

Captain Terry thrust his hand forward. "These weaknesses within the MSA will do us no good if we can't exploit them. Our forces on Mars are nonexistent."

Sarah raised her hand, signaling him to be silent. "Most of our supporters from Zephyria and Trivium Port are detained in unspecified locations. Early reports say they are held up in a few hangar bays on the north side of Trivium Port."

Terry interrupted again. "Who is in charge on Mars? Why tell us of these hopefuls without any efforts to free them?"

Sarah waved her hand at him. "I am the commander of the Alliance. At least the bylaws of Aethpis say I am. I put Captain Dalton in charge of this mission."

Captain Terry shook his head. "We took all our best with the fleet. No one is left on Mars to help us."

"I left the highest ranking officer, Lieutenant Commander Kisgel, in charge," she replied hesitantly.

Eamonn wondered what the reaction would be to Kisgel's name. Sarah had told him that the military brass had never had a high opinion of Kisgel's leadership abilities, and he hoped this wouldn't create a rift between them and her. However, Kisgel had fought with Sarah's grandfather, and she trusted no one on Mars more than him. He would remain loyal to his death. To Eamonn, that was worth his perceived lack of leadership.

"Kisgel?" Terry said. "That old goat is as loyal as a well-fed dog, but he is a soldier, not a leader."

"Maybe it is time he became a leader." Sarah's eyes narrowed. "We are in a no-win situation. He is our most experienced ground soldier, and he will do his job. Anyone else have any questions about my command decisions?"

Eamonn smirked as everyone in the room avoided looking directly at her.

"Now let me continue," she said with a bit of annoyance in her tone. "Though Aethpis split, reports say that almost seventy percent of Aethpis's manpower is on our side. They just need weapons." She paused. "This is where our Alliance becomes tricky, and it answers Captain Terry's concern. The twin outer colonies of Pollux and Castor pledged support. As you know, those two colonies are renowned for their anti-government position. But they have weapons, armor, and ground vehicles. They only made one request, they want twenty percent supply rights to the meteor stones and to remain independent when we proclaim victory."

"And you agreed to this? That is far too much. They deserve five percent of the stones; that is what their population represents," Captain Terry said, then directed his words to Eamonn. "Lunara would never give a nonaligned colony twenty percent."

"I agreed to it already," Sarah said. "Hannah Rohen wanted thirty to start. We bargained her down to twenty. When war arrives, we must make deals to survive in the short run. I can't even guarantee we'll win this war to give them their percentage. Would you like their guns to go to the MSA? I have had more training and coaxing in the ways of diplomacy than you will ever know, Captain Terry. This was the best we could achieve from Castor and Pollux on such short notice."

Terry threw up his hands. "They are greedy and rebellious and are the only major colony on Mars to remain separate from the two governments. There was even a debate on whether to consider them raiders or not at the end of the last war."

Sarah steadied herself for an even-toned reply. "Just because they don't agree with our form of government doesn't make them any different from us. They want peace as much as we do. They have never been hostile with even a hovercar. Do not mention them in the same sentence as a raider."

Terry was about to reply, but Sarah glared at him. He waved his hand, telling her to continue.

"To complete our list of Martian support. A few small colonies offered us men and women to help in our fight. Their weapons are minimal, so we sent them to the twin colonies for hastened training.

"But Lunara has hope. If we can cut off their supply of meteor stones, we can hurt their efforts to control Mars. Whoever controls the stones will control Mars from this point forward. The MSA discovered a secret in the stones, and we have only scratched the surface in our research.

"We know the meteor stones are the key to this entire event. However, I can't tell you about the MSA research because we don't understand what they found so fascinating with the stones. They want Lunara, badly, and they captured two members of Captain Dalton's crew. They are performing experiments on them in an attempt to figure out why the stones made them special. Perhaps Captain Dalton can explain this better. He will complete this briefing with the mission. It is vital."

Everyone at the table turned their eyes to Eamonn. It felt like Sarah had passed him a fleet-size baton, and he wondered if he could hold it. He rolled his lower lip under his teeth and took a measured look around the table, trying to gauge their confidence in him. He found only stolid military faces.

"The start happened on Lunara," he said finally. "More than a week ago, a medical team came aboard Lunara to conduct a physical examination of two of our crew members, starwing pilots Chloe Jones and Seth Smith. They are members of my crew who Mars Medical deemed abnormal. They didn't have a chance to conduct their examinations before a meteor strike took them away from the colony. After we finished, we returned to Lunara only to discover that an invasion force of three cruiser-class warships had overrun it. Classification by the computer tells us they are cruiser class, but they aren't ships we encountered before. They are fast, and they are heavily armed. They only resemble a cruiser in size. They do not fly with the same bulk or the same slow engines. I provided a briefing folder on what information we have from the recon and the _Protector's_ encounter with one of the cruisers. I would appreciate it if you could study these to find potential weaknesses in their design. I discovered a few."

Eamonn tapped on his keypad to scroll through a series of recon photos and 3-D enhancements. "Our recon intelligence photos indicate the three MSA cruisers are still stationed outside of Lunara in a defensive formation. One problem we experienced during the invasion of Lunara was our inability to detect their ships on radar. We still haven't figured out how they are jamming us, but we formulated a solution that I think will work.

Captain Terry bristled. "How can we win if we are blind?"

"You make the other person blind," Eamonn replied. "I have ordered the _Unity_ to drop modified mines to emit static-filled radio waves. This will flood their radar with false readings and ghost images. Once they realize that every other image is a ghost, they will ignore it and fly blind as well."

Nods were plentiful from the captains around the table.

He tapped on the control panel once again, the photos dropped, and a detailed 3-D image of an attack cruiser turned around the middle of the table. "For all the benefits the MSA cruisers have, I spotted weaknesses. The MSA cruisers aren't equipped to fight in close, and using the reconnaissance photos captured by Jan Falloom, we believe the inner range of the massive weapons creates a chance for our fighters. If we are close enough, almost hugging them, they'll withhold firing their large cannons or risk endangering their own ships. Our goal will be to get each of our light cruisers—with fighter support—in close to the three MSA cruisers. Their mission will be to drive them far enough away from Lunara for the _Protector_ to escort the transport ships into Lunara. Our mission's goal is to take the colony back by force from the inside, and then we can turn the defense systems within Lunara against the MSA cruisers."

Apprehension pulled on all their faces. "I know what you are all thinking: we won't have enough troops to take back the colony. Since we came within a million kilometers of Earth, through a secret emergency frequency, I have had limited contact with some of our officers on Lunara. They are ready to strike when we enter. They are waiting for our help, far too long, in my opinion. Read your battle plan folders and please contact me with any questions. The odds will be against us, but we'll need everyone's guile and bravery."

"How can we trust their loyalty? There is no way to know they weren't part of the MSA to begin with," Captain Terry said, getting in first over the other captains who were ready to respond.

"Atalo Grove and John Tarlynn contacted me. They are not a part of the MSA."

"How can you be so sure? Thomas Cross fooled Aethpis, so I can imagine these two officers deceiving you."

"Lunara is different from the main colonies. Our colony has no hidden agendas. Sure, John Tarlynn is from Zephyria and Atalo Grove is from Aethpis, but those colonial ties end when you step on Lunara. They want Lunara back in Ty Falloom's control, and if they are deceiving us, which is a minute possibility, we have little to stop it. We are committed to this battle."

"Your confidence in them gives me hope," Sarah replied. "That is all we can ask that this point."

"He had confidence in Seth Smith and Chloe Jones as well," Captain Terry said, followed by a scoff.

Eamonn eyed him for a long moment, unsure if he should reply or not. He decided it was better to end the meeting and let the captains prepare for the battle. Each of them had plenty to do. He rubbed the scar on his head, then placed his hands neatly on the conference table. "This battle will be difficult and will slash at your hearts and your desire to continue. You must push your officers and your troops through the barriers of doubt that are to come. We will win the battle because good always triumphs over evil."

Eamonn sat back in his chair and hoped his final words would resonate with the command staff. Their subdued reply baffled him. Perhaps the jitters before battle were already setting in across the fleet. He hoped his words would inspire the captains' confidence to win the battle, or at least, their confidence in him.

The room remained silent until Sarah said a few words of encouragement and tied up a few loose ends with the captains. Once she finished, the captains left the room and returned to their ships. Sarah raced to her quarters.

Jan stayed, and Eamonn spied her drifting toward him.

"I need to talk to you," she said, finally walking over to him from around the table. "I was the one who told you Roche had died. Now I must tell you a more painful thing. Don't hate me for being the bearer of bad news."

"I could never hate you," he said, trying to comfort her uneasiness, though he saw in her face her anxiety.

Her eyes softened. "I found out you are checking the casualty reports from Mars. I wanted to tell you what I found out using my own sources . . . I couldn't until you told the fleet their mission."

"What makes you think I was checking the casualty reports?"

"You can try, but you can't hide your emotions from me. I am your friend, and I will always look out for you. You should know that Madelyn died at the gala. The chancellor killed her, even before the minister and his family were killed. My sources told me she stood up to him when no one else would say a thing, and she was shot for speaking out, but those who were in attendance remembered her words." She tried to put her arm on his shoulder, but he walked away from her to the window. She pulled on his arm. "Don't hate me. I just wanted to give you the news. You should hear it from a friend and not read it in some report."

"You did the right thing. I'm torn by my actions." He stared out at the window to the red dot millions of miles in the distance. "I promised her I would be at the gala. I promised I would take her to Lunara, away from her meager life. I hurt her once before, and when I didn't show up at the gala, I hurt her again. I didn't think she would show up."

A lump formed in his throat. The weight of Jan's words began to grow like a parasite in his heart, and he wanted to cry. Yet the memory of Madelyn stopped him. For whatever illogical reason, he felt Madelyn's rough, stubborn façade wash over him. She wouldn't cry. She would fight.

He swallowed. "Madelyn never got what she deserved. Many times, I was tempted to return to Mars and be with her. I was too scared to ask her if she still loved me. I never told her that I loved her."

He continued to stare out the view port of the cruiser _Unity_.

Jan put her arm around his shoulder, and they watched the transport ships return the captains to their cruisers.

More than ever now, Eamonn was determined to win the battle.
Chapter 34

Gwen, with her legs spread, extended her arms to touch her toes. Her father had held her within her apartment for almost four days and had given her nothing to do, so all she could do to occupy her time was exercise. Or as she had done for many hours, drive herself crazy trying to sort out what he was up to. She decided to strengthen her body instead of eroding her mind, because when the time came, she needed to be ready. She sighed, returning to an upright position. _If that time ever comes._

The buzzer to the door rang. She slid her jacket over her tank top and before she had a chance to get to the door, it opened and in walked Samantha, dressed in the same outfit she had worn at the gala. Around her shoulder she carried a small bag.

"So you came to apologize," Gwen snorted, narrowing her eyes when Samantha's gaze found her across the room. "I never expected you to return."

"Actually, since you couldn't come to apologize to me, I am being courteous so you could say you are sorry to me."

"Of all the egocentric things . . . you dragged me out of the gala like I was a child. You are lucky I didn't knock your pretty little nose off." Gwen straightened her body to her full height in a futile effort to match Samantha, who was six inches taller and was also wearing three-inch heels. "Where are your guards this time?"

"I won't need guards." Samantha waved her hand to shrug off Gwen's comment. "I had to do what your father ordered. I had no choice. I feel awful about it." She moved next to Gwen. "Your hair is done up pretty." She brushed it with her fingers.

Gwen knocked her hand away. "I had time to work on it. Hours without so much as a hint of outside contact will give you the time."

"I'm here now, and the guards spoke with you. You aren't alone. We can talk before I have to go back to work, if you will have me." Samantha smiled, curling her cheeks into a bottomless dimple. The same smile she brought out when she wanted forgiveness, ever since they were in school together.

"My father was here a few times. He explained most of what happened to me. I'm frustrated being locked up in here."

"That is understandable." Samantha eyed Gwen's reaction.

Gwen simply smiled.

"I can't disobey orders," Samantha said.

"I didn't mean to kick you so hard . . . at the gala."

"No bother. I brought us something." Reaching into her bag, Samantha pulled out a bottle. "Get the glasses."

Gwen moved into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses. She paused. The face of the guard she murdered flashed in her mind. He was the enemy, she knew that now, but still, it was the wrath of her father that had scared her into murdering him.

Samantha and her father hadn't mentioned his death to her. The holonews didn't report it, even before the fiasco at the gala. Her simple wish to make it go away appeared to have been fulfilled. However, her mind wouldn't let it go. She had to justify the man's death, and the only way to do that was to stop her father and rescue Seth and Chloe.

She tightened her grip around the stems of the flutes and rushed into the living area. She found Samantha on the couch, handed her the glasses, and sat down. "It is good to talk to someone again. I'm going insane."

Samantha poured the champagne. "I put in a good word for you with Seth. I don't know how much good it did. He has his heart set on that powder-puff girl."

"You talked to them?" Gwen straightened her posture on the couch.

"Not since before the gala. I found them wandering in the planitia south of Trivium Port. They walked right up to the hazardous cargo facility."

"What did Seth say about me?" Just saying Seth's name tore at Gwen's heart; she missed his company. He would never love her, though. She could not think of a single scenario in which that would happen—a realization that distressed her.

"He was interested in finding you," Samantha said. "He wanted to see you again, but Chloe kept interrupting us and cutting off the whole conversation. I gave her a hard time for you. She has no right to him."

"She is still my friend."

"If she was your friend, she wouldn't be so weak, and she would give him to you."

"You know that isn't how love works."

"You deserve him more." Samantha fingered her glass as she thought. "He needs your strength. He is searching for something great, and he'll never break free to claim it if he's pulled back by her weakness."

"She plays possum for his benefit. She can be strong when she needs to be. Where are they now?"

"They're still at the Zephyrian Security Center. Your father said they would be detained for a few more days at the least."

"How long does it take to debrief someone?"

"It is for their protection."

"An awful lot of protecting happening around here lately." Gwen twisted her face to narrow her left eye. She put her hand on the breast of Samantha's jacket. "I noticed this new symbol on your uniform. What is it?"

"MSA. The letters stand for Martian Supremacy Authority, and the spiraling effect is meant to signify a DNA strand."

"Why a DNA strand?"

"The DNA is humanity."

"I can be of assistance to you." Gwen looked into Samantha's eyes. "I love you and my father more than anyone. I know I can help. Whatever is happening, I'll always be at your side."

"Your father doesn't want you involved. He says you are to remain safe no matter the cost. He worries about you the most." Samantha shifted her eyes away.

"I can handle myself. Come on Sam, it is Gwen. Remember when we used to get in all kinds of trouble together, we always had each other's back. Tell me what is happening and how I can help." Gwen grabbed Samantha's hand and squeezed.

The softening of Samantha's eyes told Gwen that she was pulling at her heart and her duties. The MSA gave Samantha so much. The wall would be hard to break. She had more power and fortune than she would ever need, but it hadn't always been like that for Samantha. The councilors had taken her from the street and forced her into a school that she hated. Gwen had showed her friendship and compassion. Now, Gwen had to exploit this weakness in Samantha to get her to open up.

"Tell me what you are doing," Gwen said.

"Your father wants to take humanity to a new evolutionary level. He wants humans to control the stars, to be one with them. He has shown me how we can do it. The meteor stones were sent to us as a gift, by accident or on purpose, by someone else, something else. Nonetheless, they are the key to humanity's future. We spent years researching the technology. Hans Bauer and your father discovered a trait in the stones about fifteen years ago and have been searching exhaustively for a way to incorporate the power into humans.

"Our chance arrived in your friends, Seth and Chloe. They are the answer to our hopes and wishes. They will unlock the next stage for us. No more disease, no more crime, no more weakness; humanity has endless possibilities in the stars. We can strike a perfect balance between individual rights and strengthening the human collective.

"You see, Chloe has this ability already, but only a small portion of her true potential. We'll help her discover her destiny. Seth will show us how we can make people stronger. Your mother wouldn't have died from her fatal disease if we had found Seth sooner. She would be alive. Your father's ambition throughout the conspiracy has been to save others from her fate. We need control of the stones so we can bring humanity to its rightful place in the universe."

"You think all this was necessary? I mean, so many died in the last few days." Gwen fingered at her jacket's buttons, feigning conflict within her mind. She had to eliminate the doubts her father and the MSA were having regarding her strong beliefs in the Principles of Man. Perhaps they had discovered her presence in the lab. They had to have.

Some hours ago, in the middle of a quad stretch, she had figured out that that was the reason she had been sheltered from the MSA. Most important to the MSA was that she was an advocate for the Principles of Man, something they found an inconvenience. She was their enemy. Somehow, she had to make them believe that she supported their ideas.

She kept looking Samantha in the eye, resisting the urge to look away because of her lie. "I miss my mother, and if the MSA could cure her, and others like her, maybe it is worth the violence. Someone needs to take control of this so we don't waste our resources."

"Exactly what your father said. I have followed his guidance and his teachings for the last two years. Since you left for Lunara, he has been more a father than my real father ever was."

Gwen grimaced in her mind, thinking of her expulsion to Lunara and the apparent replacement of her in her father's life by Samantha.

"Where are Seth and Chloe really located then?" She pushed the words through, disregarding her emotions. "Shouldn't we poke them with needles and instruments to find out how they work?"

"The debriefing is a lie." Samantha looked up for the first time since Gwen had started talking to her. "As I said, they are located in the security center, underneath, in the secret medical facility. They are scheduled for their first primary test this afternoon."

"Sounds interesting," Gwen said. "Can you pour me some more champagne?"

Samantha reached over to retrieve the bottle. She grabbed it and started to pour, but with a lunge, Gwen slid her hand down to Samantha's side and grabbed Samantha's electrostick. She pushed it into her friend.

Samantha convulsed and dropped the bottle, which hit the floor with a thud. She lay motionless.

Gwen crouched over her, checking her pulse with her left hand. She was still alive.

"Sorry about that, old friend, but you gave me all the information I needed. How could you let my father manipulate you like that? At least I have an excuse. I am his daughter." Gwen slipped the electrostick behind her back and snatched Samantha's CommUn from her belt. She moved her hands under Samantha's arms, pulling her up to the couch. With a quick flip, she spilled a little champagne on Samantha's shirt and placed the glass on the floor.

The main door clicked.

Gwen twisted round, brought her arms up, and began to wave. "Guards, guards! Come in here quickly."

The door opened and the guards scanned the room. Their faces showed concern when Samantha groaned from the couch. "What happened, Miss Arwell?"

"She is having a bad reaction to the champagne. Come over and see if she is all right. I don't know any first aid." She pointed and pushed them toward Samantha.

Both guards bustled toward the couch, bent over, and checked her pulse, as Gwen had done.

Gwen slipped her hand behind her back and retrieved the electrostick. She snapped it on and pressed the flickering edge against the tall guard's back.

He fell down instantly, hitting the arm of the couch and falling to the floor, unconscious.

The heavier guard tried to pull his stick but Gwen was too fast for him. His arm was caught between the couch and his body.

Gwen jabbed the electrostick into his neck and he reacted with thrashing convulsions. He fell toward Gwen and toppled onto her legs, making her crash toward the floor.

She flexed her elbow, which hit the floor first, taking her weight. She extended it to test the joint. It wasn't broken or dislocated as she could move it, but a pain like hot pokers shot up the arm. She pushed herself up with her other arm and managed to free her legs from under the guard's bulky body. She dashed to the open door and closed it.

Next, she went to work on the bodies. She dragged the heavier man into her hall closet first and then the taller man. Using one of the two pairs of cuffs she found on the guards' belts, she cuffed the heavier guard's hand to the other guard's foot. She picked up Samantha and put her in between the guards, sitting up in the closet. She cuffed Samantha's hand to the chain of the other cuffs and closed the closet door.

"Well, Gwen, you are in deep now," she whispered. She wiped her hands together and went into the bedroom.

She reached under her bed and pulled out a knapsack full of gadgets and equipment she had prepared. After changing her leisure jacket for a utility vest and a long-sleeved thermo shirt, she took a deep breath and headed straight out of the apartment.

Before reaching the stairwell, she pushed down the trigger to Samantha's CommUn and spoke into the microphone: "Black Bear, this is Gopher, are you there? I'm coming to Old Zephyria, as we planned."
Chapter 35

Aboard the _Protector_ , Eamonn Dalton ordered the Alliance fleet to break toward Lunara. Amid the pale light of the sun, ship after ship converged in formation, and the MSA fleet readied in the shadows of the distant Earth. Soon enough, both fleets would combine into a giant throng and tremendous roar.

With each passing meter, uneasiness crept into Eamonn. Doubts about his plan troubled his thoughts. He rechecked his screens, readjusted plasma-shielding levels, and requested a status check from his fleet.

The distance between the two fleets continued to close.

Suddenly, loneliness played with him. No one from his original crew was aboard. In the pilot chair sat Shannon Buckley, a young hotshot who had yet to convince him that she could navigate the ship safely through a war zone. So far, she had managed to give the crew space sickness with what she called "engine tests." He would have felt safer with Jan at the controls and Parker in the engine room, but the fleet needed them elsewhere. Ripley, however, gave Shannon his nod of approval, and Eamonn began to wonder if the old man was going senile.

The _Protector_ rocked back and forth. Eamonn grabbed his chair supports and steadied himself. The lunar gravity had caught them. "Fenor, did Lunara send a communication yet?"

"Not yet, I'm continually scanning the bands," Fenor said. He turned dials, flipped switches, and adjusted his viewscreen. He shook his head again toward Eamonn.

Eamonn pursed his lips. "They need to confirm or this plan is all for not."

"Hold on," Fenor said. "I'm reading something. It is short, but it meets the encryption and frequency requirements." Fenor flipped from private listening mode to public. The bridge's speaker crackled, and static murmurs filled the air.

"Clean it up," Eamonn ordered.

"Let me run it through a homemade filter I brought with me. Your communications equipment needs an upgrade, I will note."

"Noted, apply the filter already."

The static disappeared. Faintly, Eamonn heard a voice in the speaker: "This is Grove. We are waiting in corridor W4. Whiskey 4. I repeat, corridor Whiskey 4."

The transmission ended and repeated.

"What is W4?" Shannon Buckley asked.

"It is a corridor within Lunara. West Sector, Corridor 4," Ripley replied.

"Sorry, sir," Buckley said. "I didn't have time to study the interior of the complex."

"Ripley is correct, and the location isn't my first choice," Eamonn said. "W4 is close to the control tower, and most likely, guarded heavily."

Lunara's towers were visible over the horizon.

"Fenor," Eamonn said, "put Parker McCloud in the transport ship on the line, encoded."

"Got them now, sir."

"Transport One," Eamonn said. "I have some good news for you."

"Go ahead, Eamonn," Parker's voice crackled over the speaker.

"Parker, I just got word from Grove. They are waiting in W4. The spot is tough to enter. You should go in at W2 and work your troops to them."

"I read you. We'll adjust our arrival coordinates. Transport One out."

An eerie silence fell over the bridge after the communications ended. Eamonn gazed out the viewscreen looking toward Jan, remembering what she said about Madelyn's courage in trying to stand up to the chancellor. Maybe that had been foolish in the eyes of the crowd, but he was proud of her, standing up and challenging the chancellor when she knew he was wrong and unjust.

"Breaking point in one minute," Buckley said.

"Execute our entrance plan," Eamonn said. "The time for battle is upon us."

The _Protector_ surged forward ahead of the fleet and opened fire toward the awaiting MSA cruisers in the distance. Several Asterfighters to his port side followed closely behind.

In the distance, over Lunara, small sparks glistened off the plasma shielding of the MSA cruisers when the shots arrived on target. The MSA cruiser returned useless fire; the _Protector_ was too small and agile from this distance.

Behind the _Protector_ , the fleet reached the breaking point at the scheduled time. The Aethpisian light cruisers broke formation and bolted toward the MSA cruisers, increasing their speed to dangerous levels. The _Unity_ paired off with the _Sheriff_ and concentrated all fire on the closest MSA cruiser, drawing fire in return.

Aethpisian Asterfighters were released from the _Unity_ and began to deploy the radar scramblers into the battle zone. With each of their successive passes, the radar increasingly jammed.

Eamonn smirked; the MSA was probably in panic mode.

A flash of light streaked from Lunara; glistening beams could be seen in the sky around the _Protector_.

Shannon Buckley banked hard to her right with the Alliance Asterfighters trailing close behind. Some didn't make the turn in time. The sonic bullets nicked four of the six on the rear side, spinning them out of control, before a secondary firing salvo finished them off in a brilliant blaze.

Eamonn swore under his breath.

The _Protector_ cried out in anger: alarms hooted, alerts flashed, and temperature gauges spiked. Eamonn did his best to quiet them with power dumps into the shielding and hull containment. Buckley yanked back on the control stick in a last-minute effort to escape a volley of missiles from Lunara's closest tower.

Jan's starwing, closing trailing, broke to the surface of the moon, and performed a barrel-rolling turn, angling away from the turret fire and in the process drawing fire to her location.

Missiles hissed out of a passing cruiser and exploded as the timed charge reached critical. The _Protector_ rattled in the shockwave, and Jan's starwing flipped multiple times before straightening out into a controlled turn away from the unforgiving lunar surface.

Abruptly, Eamonn's anticipation for battle turned to dread. The battle for Lunara had begun.
Chapter 36

Seth screamed. Not since he was last on Mars had pain and agony cut so deep within him. Hans Bauer had strapped him to an examination table without any padding other than a thin pillow for his head. His arms and legs were immobilized with thick nylon straps, similar to seat belts. A series of electrodes ran from various spots on his body to a large computer device. An intravenous, jammed into his arm, injected chemicals; each pulse of liquid provided a different sensation of agonizing pain, and the next was always more severe than the last one. He heaved with all his might against the straps, but his attempts to break the bonds were useless.

Sitting at his control terminal, Bauer watched the readings feed into this database after each injection. He had a smirk on his face as the results poured across his screen, and Seth thought perhaps Bauer enjoyed his suffering.

"You are performing well, Seth," Bauer said, almost as if he was proud of him.

"What are you doing to me?"

"I'm not doing anything," Bauer said. "You are doing it all to yourself. You see, with each traumatic event you experience, your body is protecting itself."

"Protecting?"

"Your body is building stronger and better healing defenses against my chemical concoctions. They are targeting specific nerves and organs in your body."

"And the pain?"

"The pain is part of the process. It seems your mind controls when and where to strengthen you. Though I fail to understand why the telepathic part of your mind is running in overdrive. Are you communicating with the woman?"

"You mean Chloe. No." Seth wondered if Bauer thought that he would reveal he could or was talking to Chloe. He wasn't. For whatever reason, he couldn't find her, though he guessed she was in as much pain as he was. She always leaned on him when she was frightened. Yet now, she didn't seek him out.

"Are you sure?"

"I know when she enters my mind. She isn't. You probably weakened her too much. She isn't as strong as I am. Just leave her alone."

Bauer smirked. "I'll judge what she can or can't take."

The next injection entered, and he braced for the pain, but nothing came. His body relaxed, and the tunneling pain in the base of his neck subsided. He struggled to open his weary eyes. Hans Bauer and his nurses huddled around the command terminal.

He put his head back and closed his eyes, trying to think about happier places. He fell into a deep sleep.

Seth awoke with someone rubbing his hand with a soft touch. He opened his eyes and squinted into the light. After a few moments, he adjusted to the brightness. Chloe was beside him, but looking away. He couldn't tell if she was sleeping or observing the happenings of the laboratory. He went to touch her shoulder, but the straps pulled against him.

"Chloe," he whispered.

She turned. Her face was white and thin, and her long hair had been cut short, dropping only just below her ears. Wires and electrodes protruded from the back of her head.

A surge of nausea squeezed at his stomach. _What did they do to you?_ "Are you all right?"

"I lost all my hair," she whispered. She squeezed his hand.

He gritted his teeth. Hans Bauer and his cronies had gone too far.

"I haven't been in pain," she said. "Not like you. We could hear you screaming from my laboratory. I was worried."

"I wasn't in much pain." He lied to her.

Her thin face attempted to form a smile.

He had to convince himself it was really her.

"Dakota Lars did the testing on me." She licked her cracked lips. "She was gentle, and concerned for my comfort. A few times she warned me about pain."

"We'll be out of here soon."

"You are just saying that. We can do nothing about it; we need our crew members to rescue us." She lowered her eyes. "I have some bad news. I'm unsure if it is true, but I don't think Dakota would lie."

"What?"

"Roche is dead. She told me he died when he broke into here."

"Why should we believe her?" Seth said it to try to counter her thoughts about Roche's death. But she didn't waver in her grief for someone she had known. He could feel at least that much from her.

"Roche was coming here. How would she know that? She has a good heart, at least part of her."

"I believe you," he said. "And the rest of them?"

"She didn't say, but I assumed they were captured." Her face had turned so ashen, unlike its usual rosy glow, and she wore a frown that tore at his heart. She always had an optimism and happiness, even in the worst times.

"I am sure they are all right," he said, trying to lift her spirits. "Look at me."

She refused and shook her head.

"Chloe Jones, look at me," he said.

She looked up at him.

He felt hope from her. "Keep thinking about our return to Lunara; I promise to marry you."

She smirked, which made him smile in return.

He squeezed her hand.

They were interrupted by Dakota, who walked up to the tables. "I'm sorry," she said. "You two need to be prepped for the next phase. You can hold each other until Hans returns. He will ask you to separate, though."

"Thank you." Chloe grasped his hand even harder.

"Can you get her some water?" Seth pleaded. "She is severely dehydrated."

"Nurse," Dakota called out. "Bring a bottle of water."

An older lady walked over toward Chloe, tilted her head back, and allowed her to drink the water. She finished the entire bottle before he could thank Dakota.

"Why are you doing this to us?" Seth said. "We are in pain!"

"You're breaking my heart," Dakota whispered. "But I can only make it easier for you. I have dedicated my life to Hans, and we are deep inside a secured facility. I can't do anything, so you have to endure the pain. It is making you both more powerful."

"Look at Chloe. She can't survive another around." Seth pressed his arms against his restraints. "Anything you can do to help Chloe, I will be forever grateful. If you can get her released, I'll cooperate fully with all your experiments."

"Absolutely not," Chloe said. "I'll never leave you. I would die instantly if they forced me to leave."

Dakota craned her neck and whispered into his ear, "I'll try."

Over the display, Eamonn relayed battle numbers to Sarah Cortez as she picked herself up off the deck and surveyed the damage to the _Unity_ 's bridge.

"We are in rough shape, Captain Dalton," she said. "The conduit behind her spit electrical sparks across the controllers attempting to fix them."

The viewscreen flickered static between battle reports.

"Fenor," he said. "Clean it up."

Sarah wiped her forehead with the cuff of her jacket. "The plasma fires are heating the air to almost unbearable levels. My crew is in utter chaos. My sensory technicians are feeding outdated information into weapons control systems, pilots are listening to multiple orders, and station commanders are running around in total confusion. I'm not sure we can last much longer."

Eamonn didn't blame Sarah for being so overwhelmed. She was a simple diplomat who attended galas and state dinners, but he had to tell her something to get the _Unity_ in a position to make a difference. "Sarah, tell your fighters that the transports need to get to Lunara. Focus on that."

Eamonn gazed out the view port. He took in a quick breath as he watched the more heavily armed MSA cruiser pummel the _Sheriff_.

"The _Sheriff_ needs our help," Sarah muttered, and she trembled, seeing the desperate situation.

"The _Sheriff_ is doing its own job. We can't sacrifice our own jobs in a battle for a rescue."

He didn't know how she expected to help the _Sheriff_ anyway. Her ship was caught in a similar battle and was rocking violently back and forth as a barrage of missiles blasted its starboard side.

A squadron of MSA fighters strafed the aft shield.

He flipped on another comm channel. "Alpha squadron. Get those fighters off the _Unity_."

"Already on it," the lead pilot replied. The squadron swooped in from above and sprayed a stream of sonic bullets into the lead ship of the MSA fighters. The MSA fighters jerked away toward the craters of the moon.

"Captain Dalton," Sarah said. "They have wised up and are taking out the mines. The radar jamming is lost in section 1B; the _Barracuda_ can be targeted on radar again."

With a quick glance, Eamonn scanned the radar screen. "Send a warning message to the _Barracuda_ and remind her to keep pushing their MSA cruiser farther out. She is doing good."

Eamonn had lied. The _Barracuda_ wasn't doing its job correctly. The _Sheriff_ and the _Regulator_ kept pushing their MSA cruisers farther away, some ten thousand kilometers out from the colony. The _Barracuda_ had yet to force the MSA cruiser anywhere. It wasn't the _Barracuda_ 's fault; they didn't have enough ships to move them simultaneously. Its assigned MSA cruiser was on the far side of Lunara, and it was more wide open. The confined area at the head of the battle prompted the other MSA cruisers to move to safety, but the _Barracuda_ 's MSA cruiser could move throughout the large area without giving up positioning.

"The _Barracuda_ is demanding help from us," Sarah said.

"Miss Cortez," Eamonn said. "We can't provide any help. She'll have to do it on her own. The _Unity_ needs to protect the transports. Tack to the port side, don't let any salvos batter your aft shielding. From my readings, they need time to recharge. Fire all remaining secondary starboard missiles to clear space around you."

"Do what he says," Sarah said to the tactical officer beside her.

The _Unity_ mustered enough strength to volley another barrage of missiles toward the belly of the MSA cruiser. The _Unity_ was too slow, however. The MSA cruiser rolled and avoided all but one of the missiles, the last missile catching the turret cannon on the bottom of the ship's hull. But the attack served its purpose. The MSA cruiser banked back toward empty space, reaching a safe distance to recoup.

"One out of range," Sarah said. "Now get us between Lunara and the cruiser the _Regulator_ was assigned."

"Sarah," Eamonn said. "You would put yourself in the crossfire."

"The transport must get to Lunara," she said sternly. "I know what we have to do, now."

"You're right," he replied. "Get the transports to Lunara."

She rushed away without turning off the viewscreen. He faintly heard her say, "Communications, tell those Asterfighters we need them closer to Lunara. We'll never open up space if they are strafing the perimeter."

Eamonn felt more confidence in her now. He had delivered his message of the importance of roles within a battle.
Chapter 37

"Stop it! Stop it!" Seth implored Hans, the faint scent of burned flesh torturing his nose. Chloe screamed again, and a twitch ran through his face with each of her hollers. Seth stretched his restraints to maximum, but the futility of his actions infuriated him more than the pain.

Hans ignored their pleas, continuing to apply the electrical pulses into her spine. After each cycle, his nurses would mutter a few statistics to him. He would sit at his terminal and adjust her torment to adhere to his requirements.

Seth felt stronger and more focused after each session. Hans Bauer told him his body was getting much stronger, and he was beginning to believe that Bauer had more knowledge about him than he had ever realized. _How had he discovered so much in such little time?_

Seth looked over at Chloe, who couldn't raise her head, and her eyes remained closed. He wondered if she was conscious.

"Hans, are you about done?" he yelled. "She can't take much more of this. Give her a break. Give _me_ more pain!"

"She isn't finished," Hans remarked. He moved over beside Seth. "You impress me. I believe you are twice as strong now as you were when you joined us. The girl, however, has been failing. She doesn't have the physical skills needed to run the same experiments. I'll have to find someone else you care about to enhance your need to develop." He walked toward him, circling the table and coming up close to Chloe, touching her face with his hand. "Or would you increase tenfold if I bring her to the brink of death or even death? Such hatred of me would no doubt lead to interesting results."

"No!" He swung his body toward Hans, causing the table to rock so hard it tipped over. The back of his head smacked hard against the floor. He gritted his teeth to stave off the pain.

Hans stepped back, waving his guards into the room.

Seth thought quickly. If a bolt or a strap had been damaged during the fall, he might have a chance to free himself. Once free, he would kill Bauer. He pulled on his restraints, trying to jar himself loose, but the cuffs clamped to his wrists held like vices. He pulled again, but the cool ring of a gun's barrel against his cheek stopped him.

Technicians moved in and positioned themselves in all corners of the table, and with one heave, they set it on its legs.

"That is some strength," one tech remarked as he knelt to secure the table. "These tables weigh upward of two hundred pounds. Would take some leverage to move them like he did." He attached elbow clips to the legs and bolted it to the floor. "What is with this guy, Dr. Bauer?"

"Do your job! I will worry about 'what is with this guy,'" Hans snapped at the young tech.

"Sorry, Doctor."

Seth took paced breaths to calm his raging mind. Hans had successfully goaded him into a fit of supreme anger. Seth knew Bauer prized Chloe more than he did Seth. Chloe's mind was special, and Seth knew that Hans cherished its potential. So why did he think Hans would ever kill her? An image of her death flashed into his mind. Samantha spoke the truth when she said Chloe was his weakness. He had to start thinking like a scientist and control himself.

"How did you find us?"

"Your original physicals when you became pilots for Lunara. It was the first time in your life you gave blood to Mars, and I found you."

Seth was puzzled. "You were looking for us, specifically?"

"Yes and no. I have been researching the effects of metalor on human development for the last twelve years. It occurred to me, while I was working for the chancellor, that not only could we use metalor on metals but with carbon elements as well. His obsession with eugenics led me to attempt to enhance human DNA and development. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was unsuccessful, but I still searched all blood and tissue samples for an occurrence in nature. That is when I found the two of you, or more specifically, I found Chloe. You only have trace amounts of metalor in your system, no more than other people who work with the meteor stones, so I'll be conducting further experiments on both of you to determine why you are so different. I suspect when I analyze the muscle fiber samples I took from you, I will find the reason."

"You know why we are like this?" Seth said.

Bauer smiled. "Soon enough I will, and then we can make Mars a better place—"

From the room above, faint cries, shouts of confusion, and clear direct orders resonated. Next, the room shook, and this was followed by a slow rumble rippling from the front to the back. The smell of smoke appeared in the air and gained in strength.

Seth eyed Hans; the scientist's face turned pale, and he took steps back toward the wall.

_Hans didn't plan this,_ Seth thought.

Hans barked at his guards to secure the doorway as he hastened to the communications unit on his desk. "Security, what is that noise?"

Another rumble sounded, louder than the last. The room shook again, and as the beakers and test tubes fell to the floor, the shattering of glass echoed. In front of him, Chloe's table rocked back and forth.

Seth could hardly see now because of the smoke. He thought everyone had left. _No. All the nurses are behind a bank of computers._ He took in a deep breath of smoke and coughed.

Above the laboratory, the air rumbled and billows of smoke poured into the room. The fire suppression system turned on and suffocated any flames instantly. But smoke hazed the laboratory, and Seth smelled the explosive burn off, but luckily, no further flames ignited.

He listened intently from the outer room as gunfire rattled from the hallway. Flashes of light burst through the room above. The exchange was short.

The next few seconds felt like hours to him. Shadowy figures emerged amidst wisps of smoke.

"Help! In here!" he called out, not knowing if friends or foes were stepping into the inner room. Several troops dressed in the blue and gray of the Zephyrian combat force came through the haze and secured the lab. No threats remained, and they whistled a hoot of confirmation.

A familiar figure walked through the smoke and entered the room. Seth recognized her long curly hair instantly. "Gwen! I knew the crew would come."

"No," she said, scanning the room. "Only me."

He narrowed his eyes.

The troops unstrapped his legs and arms. He sprang to his feet and rushed toward her. Reaching out with his hand formed like a claw, he pressed Gwen to the wall, hard, harder than he had expected to push her.

Her troops raised their guns and pointed them at him.

She waved them down. "What is that for?" Her voice cracked under the weight of his hand.

"That was for betraying us at the gala and making us go through who knows how many days of torture." Seth moved his hands from her throat onto her shoulders, pressing her into the wall. "Why?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. How could you think I would betray you? I am the one rescuing you," Gwen countered. "My father betrayed me. I came to get my friends and myself to Lunara. Lunara is under attack again, but this time Aethpis is trying to reclaim it. The battle at Lunara will decide if the newfound Alliance has any chance of survival. We need to go and help anyway we can."

He didn't believe her. "You knew nothing about your father's treachery?"

"No, he lied to me, too. He deceived us into telling the crowd and the planet those lies. He controls most of Mars now. We can't afford to let him have you or Lunara, or we will lose."

He loosened his grip and relaxed his hands. He had to get Chloe out of there. Gwen had come to save them, so who was he to disbelieve her? He moved over to Chloe's table and unfastened her restraints. He shook her shoulders, trying to wake her.

She mumbled words he couldn't understand.

"Wake up." He took her in his arms and sat her up.

"I—I just had the worst dream," she muttered.

"I am afraid it wasn't a dream," he whispered into her ear. "We must leave. We have to get to Lunara."

Chloe opened her eyes and looked at him with a blank stare. "Carry me."

"As far as you need."

Gwen stepped forward and grabbed Seth's shoulder. "I brought clothes for each of you. You'll need them when we get outside. Put them on quickly. I'll help dress Chloe."

Once they were dressed, Seth picked up Chloe.

She put her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

Gwen pulled out a syringe from a pouch she retrieved from her knapsack.

"Hey, no needles," he hissed. "I've seen enough of them for a lifetime."

"Just a stim to reenergize you and help with your hydration," Gwen said. "It will not hurt. I promise."

"Give it to Chloe. I'm fine."

Gwen touched the needle to Chloe's arm.

Chloe's head perked up for a moment and fell back onto his shoulder.

"It'll take about ten minutes. She won't be able to run a marathon, but she will be awake and alert."

"Good enough. Let's leave."

Gwen led up the stairs toward the outer room, where the troops had already secured the prisoners and cleared a path out for them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seth caught sight of Hans cowering behind Dakota.

"Bauer, I should kill you but I won't. Mars's revenge isn't worth your life." He walked out of the room without looking back.

"Jan, fire the EMB charge, I'm bringing in the transports," Eamonn sounded over the radio.

"I'm almost there, but I'm experiencing massive MSA counterfire. They installed dual cannon turrets on the towers. Watch out for them."

Jan angled her ship toward her target.

Eamonn watched as the MSA fighters drove her too far to her left. She would have to make a sweeping pass along the surface to realign herself.

Suddenly, his screen lit up with a red flash.

An MSA fighter had come out from behind a berg of wreckage and debris, swept behind her, and locked onto her tail.

" _Protector_ ," she said. "I need some help here."

"Buckley!" It encouraged Eamonn that Jan had spotted the fighter. It would give him time to help her.

"On our way," Buckley replied. "Falloom, veer up thirty degrees. Sweep him across my screen."

Eamonn gritted his teeth. "If you miss, she can't escape."

"Trust me. If he pulls up with her, his lateral thrusters will be in no position to leverage him out."

"I confirm," Jan radioed back.

Eamonn remained hesitant, but he had no better ideas, and time was short. If they didn't act in the next few seconds, Jan would be dead.

Jan blasted the engines on the starwing, tilted its nose ten degrees upward, veering the ship off the surface.

The MSA fighter matched her movements, blasted a powerful third thruster, and closed the gap.

The ever-closing MSA fighter panicked Jan as she wobbled her wings back and forth. Her speed was at maximum, and Eamonn noticed on his display that her lateral thrusters were dangling between critical temperature and emergency shut down. He knew she had no extra power to escape if they missed. The MSA fighter had her locked.

His throat tightened.

Buckley darted the _Protector_ and swooped down from above, startling the MSA fighter into an abrupt jerk to his port side, but he was not in time to avoid the spray of bullets along the aft engine mount.

After a sudden burst of flames, smoke trailed behind the MSA fight, and the pilot, realizing his thrusters were inoperable, ejected himself into space.

Eamonn let out his held breath as the MSA fighter spiraled into the lunar surface, sending up a cloud of dust and rock. "Nice shooting, Buckley."

Jan turned the starwing back, sweeping across the surface of the moon.

A surge of confidence rushed through Eamonn. The _Protector_ was on Jan's tail, cleaning out all the garbage in front of her. She would have a clear shot in a matter of moments.

"You are square for a shot," he said.

"I read you," Jan replied.

To their starboard, the _Regulator_ blasted its missiles hard into an MSA cruiser. The amount of firepower the _Regulator_ released was unlike anything Eamonn had ever witnessed and exceeded what he thought possible. He realized with a sudden fright why cruiser-class starships never engaged one another in space wars. The entire display looked devastating.

Jan's starwing streaked toward what could be its destruction, a target no more than a few meters wide. It was the ventilation shaft leading directly into the sector's power systems.

Eamonn tracked Jan to the location, squeezing tight against the arms of his chair. If she missed by even a meter, the EMB charge would become useless and dissipate into the void of space. The transports needed this shot.

He pursed his lips. Her targeting computer relayed a yellow state.

"Fire it!" he said impatiently.

"No!"

Eamonn knew she was right and cursed himself for pressuring her. She could fire safely now, but it would be a less accurate shot. She had to wait for the green light, the absolute lock. Nothing else would be good enough.

"A few more meters," she said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eamonn saw a debris field whirling toward her path.

She accelerated, trying to outrun it, and the _Protector_ matched her. Jan swooped closer to the surface, made it by just a hair, and then pushed back into her assigned targeting lane.

Buckley rolled the _Protector_ over and then through a hole that was barely larger than the ship. An amazing feat that Eamonn would have relished had he not been so focused on the shot.

The targeting computer relayed a green state.

Instantaneously, Jan fired the EMB missile. The streak of the afterburners clouded the space in front of them. Then there was a short flare as the EMB missile struck the side of Lunara directly in the center of her target location.

Eamonn gasped as he thought the missile was a dud, but he was mistaken. A number of events took place all at the same moment that changed his mind; all the turret guns in that sector of Lunara shut down and stopped tracking their targets; the portholes in the targeted sector went dark, and the warning lights turned black; and the most spectacular sight was a blue streak of lightning splashing over the surface of Lunara and dissipating.

After confirming her positive shot, Eamonn ordered Jan to clear out of the area.

But she was too late in turning. A blackened chunk of debris slashed across her left wing. The jagged debris tumbled off the wing and slammed against her ship's portside engine, causing her entire engine to stall, instantly.

The starwing jerked to the side, thrashing her viciously back and forth.

"My engine array has failed," she radioed to him. "My attempt to attain a level pitch control overloaded the engine mounts' already fragile state."

She drifted away from the moon into the middle of the battlefield.

"She is dead in space!" Eamonn shouted toward his pilot. He rubbed his neck free of sweat. "Get under her so she can reattach."

He tapped on his input panel and called up her ship. "Jan, we are coming to get you."

"That's a negative," she radioed back. "It's too dangerous to reattach in this firefight. Give me some protection. I think I can restart the starboard side engine."

"Absolutely not. I can't leave you there to die."

"I can't let you become another sitting duck. You are on the _Protector_ , the fastest ship in the fleet. They need you," Jan radioed back. She paused. "If they think I'm dead, I can hide better than if you come over to rescue me. My engines will need to recharge, so I will power down, and they will think I am drifting. Keep the fighters occupied so our cruisers get some breathing room."

He gritted his teeth, releasing the last of his urge to rush in and save Jan. He had to trust she could recover her ship, and with a pair of MSA fighters bearing down on his location, he had no time to waste. "Buckley! Keep those fighters occupied."

"No problem, sir." Shannon Buckley pushed forward on the stick and headed straight for Lunara in an attack run, pulling the MSA fighters along with them. The _Protector_ shuddered as a series of missiles exploded from behind.

He had a bad feeling about ordering Buckley to head straight toward Lunara, especially looking down the barrel of about fifty gun turrets. He had to lessen the attention they were generating. He dropped several tracers behind them, causing a cascade of explosions and clearing the space in front of them.

His plan worked. The tracers had fooled a group of turrets along the western perimeter of Lunara into shooting at the chaotic scene. The MSA fighters peeled off from their close pursuit to dodge the tracer's explosions and the turret's fire.

The _Protector_ surged ahead.

"I'm going to buzz the tower," Buckley said. "That will draw some fire."

"Isn't drawing fire what you are already doing?" The straps of his seat belt dug into his shoulder as Shannon Buckley banked the _Protector_ hard to the port side. "I told you to keep them occupied, not occupy them with our death."

"Hold on," Buckley said.

He dug his fingers into his arm supports.

The _Protector_ barrel-rolled, skirted between two missiles, and ducked down toward the lunar surface to avoid the incoming fire from the turret guns of the MSA fighters. "Lunara's missile systems are still up. Relay that to the transport. Keep low, very low," said Buckley.

"The missile system uses a different power source," he said, gritting his teeth. "Keep close to Jan. I want her covered."

"I'm trying!" Buckley shouted back. "Keeping _us_ alive is hard enough."

"The transport needs our help in about one minute," Fenor Davis said. "If Falloom can't get those engines started, we will have to leave her."

"Relay the information." Eamonn flinched. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of light scorched the sky. "Buckley, watch out!"
Chapter 38

"Where are we going?" Seth shouted, following Gwen Arwell and her troops through the endless security center hallways with Chloe in his arms. Terror squeezed his heart as capture seemed imminent around each corner. "The elevator was back the other way."

Gwen stopped again and peered cautiously around the next corner. "To the cliff side transport pads," she said. "A ship is waiting to take us off the planet. Stopping at the corner and peering around, she signaled with her hand that it was clear, and they moved through the hallway.

"Put me down," murmured Chloe. Seth paused for a moment before continuing. "I think she's coming back to us," he said.

"She will come back swiftly when the drug takes effect," Gwen said and pointed down the hallway. "The landing pad is through those doors."

"Doesn't look too far—"

The wall behind him cracked and sparkled, and Seth heard gunshots pop. He swiveled around to see Gwen fall to the floor. He thought she had been shot, and his feeling of dread almost paralyzed him.

"Get down," she groaned, grabbing at his hip.

He let Chloe's legs slip out of his left arm, and they both slid to the floor behind the wall.

He heard shouts from the MSA soldiers, and beside him, Gwen pulled her knees up against her chest and squeezed as close to the wall as possible.

"Surrender!" several MSA soldiers bellowed between gunshots.

The urgency of their request was lost on Seth, while Chloe's glassy eyes hardened, trying to focus on the environment around her. Suddenly, all her muscles stiffened.

"Chloe," Seth said. "This is no time for sleep."

Her eyes sharpened, as though suddenly recognizing him. "Where am I?" she muttered.

"We left the lab."

Chloe came alert. "I'm a little dizzy, but I think I can walk."

_BOOM!_ A blast came from behind them, and they all put their hands to their ears.

Gwen yelled toward the Zephyrian troops following them, "Eyre, any smoke bombs left?"

"No, only a flasher," the guardsman replied.

"That will have to do. They are coming in from behind us," Gwen said, reaching over Seth and Chloe and taking the flasher. "Once I trigger this, close your eyes. When the charge flashes behind your eyelids, get up and run for the door." Gwen pointed down the hall to the landing platform entrance.

"Do you have a pistol?" Seth said. He turned to Chloe. "Hold my hand, if you get lightheaded, enjoy the ride."

Gwen reached down her leg, pulled out a small pistol attached to her calf, and handed it to him. "It has twelve shots in it."

"That should be enough," he said. "Chloe, you ready?"

"I'm fine." Chloe's knees buckled as she tried to rise to her feet. "Give me your hand."

He grabbed it firmly. "Throw out the charge."

Gwen signaled her troops, and she rolled out the flash grenade into the hallway. They all closed their eyes and listened as the metal sphere scraped along the floor.

The moment seemed to last an eternity to Seth. In that amount of time, the troops could have walked up, turned off the grenade, and shot them. However, in fact, only two seconds elapsed before a light burst through his eyelids. Seth opened his eyes instantly and pulled Chloe across the hall, following closely behind Gwen.

He took a quick glance to the side. The MSA troops had their eyes covered, shielding them from the light. Seth raised his gun and fired a series of shots into the crowd, moving them back.

The MSA troops returned fire.

Balls of flashing light pulsed through the smoke, and then drawn out like pen on paper, long blue streaks pushed their way toward him—

Amazing. The world slowed down for him. Each bullet crept toward him. Bullets, normally too fast for him to catch, were in his control. He controlled the world . . . he could avoid the bullets . . . he could do just about anything within the time sphere. How had this happened? For how long?

Using all his upper arm strength, he pulled on Chloe's arm, slid her feet from under her body, and flung her down the hallway at a blazing speed.

He caught up to Gwen with ease.

Her face contorted into a queer expression. She must have realized that she hadn't fooled the MSA troops for long enough.

He had her covered and knew that her concern was unwarranted. He picked her up and in the same motion jumped with her in his arms and slid across the floor.

The instant he realized they were safe, time returned to normal. The bullets pattered ineffectively high off the wall behind them.

He and Gwen slid to the other side of the hallway, crashing into the wall with a thud. With a twist, he drew his gun and pointed it toward the vacated hallway, seeking out any enemy following behind.

"How did you know the bullets were going to hit there?" Gwen said.

"I slowed them," he said, moving Gwen against the wall.

Chloe kneeled beside Gwen.

He grabbed Chloe by the arm. "Are you okay?"

Chloe nodded. "You slowed them?"

"The world slowed down," he said. "I had the same experience when the cargo bale was about to fall on Gwen. I was faster than regular time for a moment. That's what it felt like, anyway."

"You are scaring me," Gwen said.

"Where are the Zephyrian troops? Why didn't they follow?"

Gwen shook her head. "They weren't supposed to follow. They are sacrificing themselves for me. My guards will hold the troops until we take off."

"I can't allow them to sacrifice themselves for us," he said firmly.

"You have no choice. The transport only holds three people and they won't board if we aren't on. They won't leave until we are safe. We must escape! Now!"

The holoimage of the battle situation frightened Sarah, and Eamonn could see through the viewscreen that she pulled on all her diplomatic training to stay stolid. The fleet had lost the _Barracuda_ in a terrific hellfire only a moment ago, and the unoccupied MSA cruiser was currently headed straight for the transport ship.

"Sarah, we have to get to that cruiser before it can get to our transports," he said.

"We are too far away," Sarah replied. "Don't we have enough to worry about?"

An MSA fighter buzzed the _Protector's_ bridge.

Eamonn flinched. "We all have more than we can handle."

"I think we can cut the cruiser off at full speed, but it will—" She stopped her excuse short and turned to her pilot. "Cut that MSA cruiser off. Now!"

"Lady Cortez, we don't have enough repulse power to stop before we crash into the surface," the pilot replied. "The MSA cruiser has position on us."

"Pilot, do as ordered," Eamonn said. He knew Sarah had committed the ship to destruction. It was the only way to get the transports to Lunara at this point, and he had to back her up.

"The moon is too close!" the pilot screamed.

Sarah said to Eamonn, "I don't care if we stop or not. We have to give the transports a chance. We already have one transport slowed due to engine failure. We can't allow them to destroy the other. Lunara depends on us."

Eamonn made out no further objections. He left the _Unity_ to its destiny, turned the viewscreen off, and watched. The _Unity_ came about and accelerated on an intercept course. The stellar game of chicken was about to be lost by both parties.

Sarah did as he instructed and didn't give up any position; and the MSA captain didn't think the Alliance vessel would continue forward to its imminent destruction, and he accelerated even faster toward the transports.

When they collided, the MSA captain's crafty evasive maneuvers lessened the impact from a direct blow. Unfortunately for him, he chose a downward trajectory, and the ship nosedived toward the lunar surface with no hope of avoiding impact. The impact slowed the _Unity_ enough to turn its belly toward the surface.

Eamonn grabbed his chair, bracing as if he was about to collide with the lunar surface. He thought of Sarah's brave sacrifice, in battle and in forming the Alliance, and if fate were unkind, she would soon rejoin her slain family.

Right after the transport attached the final docking clamps to the access terminal on Lunara, Parker rocked gently back and forth. The impact of the MSA cruiser colliding with the moon rippled across the powdery surface. He pressed his face against the porthole. The last of the _Unity_ crashed in a cloud of dust and dirt that bulged high into the air and mushroomed out from the ship.

"Sarah!" he shouted.

A yank on his collar pulled him, and he tumbled into the familiar white and gray corridors of Lunara. This was the time to avenge Roche's and now Sarah's death.
Chapter 39

The battle for Lunara continued. Chunks of metallic debris from the space above Lunara rained down on the surface of the moon. Gravity had pulled some of it while other jagged shards were on a destined course to the colony. The debris hacked and slashed the once pristine buildings into a tattered, scarred mess. The structure shrieked as each small piece drummed like hail and each large chunk smashed as if a wrecking ball had hit them.

The fierce battle moved inside the colony. Parker and his troops had managed to move all the way up to sector W4 over the past hour since he boarded the station, the _Unity_ crashed into the surface . . . and Sarah died.

The residents of Lunara kept irritating the MSA soldiers. Many men and women from the colony joined the Alliance's side in the fight. Some had even rushed at the MSA troops armed with nothing more than a table knife. Behind the lines, boys and girls became runners to bring fresh water and munitions to replenish the effort. The fighting of his troops, coupled with those who were from Lunara, was a hopeful sign to Parker.

The bulk of the MSA manpower was held up inside the main security center, only fifty meters from where he and his troops were stopped. The MSA troops had caught them in a stalemate for the last fifteen minutes, and Parker's ordered attempts to move forward had failed more than once. All he had planned and hoped for was gone because of one lousy door designed to keep the bad guys out of the command room. The irony of it taunted him: the bad guys relaxed on the inside while the good guys fought to the death on the outside to get in.

On top of this, he couldn't get Sarah out of his mind. The nature of their love had come from opposite sides of the universe; his refusal to allow anyone inside his personal circle denied him love, scared of what others might see within him, while she never allowed anyone inside because of the intense social dynamics of her colony, an obligation to it born out of birthright. Perhaps their love had blossomed so quickly because the polarization attracted each other.

Sarah died, though.

He shook his head in disgust, almost vomiting with revulsion at the thought. He forbid his mind from accepting her death yet, for fear of becoming so despondent that he would be useless in helping Lunara.

"We can't find a way through the doorway," the platoon lieutenant, Jaffer, said.

"You're right," he agreed. "There is no way past it with those troopers pestering us."

"They're backed up, but the tunnel leading up is too narrow for us to enter without being caught in a hopeless funnel of weapons fire."

Parker's eyes opened wide. "We'll have to move them the MSA way . . . with surprise and maybe a little deceit. If Eamonn can keep the forces outside busy long enough, we will get in."

Jaffer conferred with his other officers for a moment, gathering as much data about the area as he could. The officers looked puzzled and said something to him. He rechecked the map handed to him.

"We are in this position here." Jaffer pointed to a junction on the map. "If we send someone up the ducts to this access point, we will be able to drop a few smokers on top of them. We'll blind them for few minutes, enough time for a rush attack."

"No one can fit in those ducts," Parker objected. "They are no more than a half meter wide."

"A child could."

Parker shook his head. "You want to risk a child's life?"

"I'm afraid we have no other choice," Jaffer said sternly, mixed with the fright of desperation.

Before Parker could object again, Jaffer scampered down the corridor toward the back of the line. He spoke with a group of boys holding munitions and returned with one of them. The boy was no more than ten years old. Without conferring further with Parker, Jaffer explained to the boy how to use the smoke bomb.

Parker wanted to object, but they had no other way to push farther up the tunnel. The MSA had it fortified completely.

The boy tightened his chin, trying to seem grown up and confident . . . but his knees wobbled and his hands trembled. The boy was terrified.

"What is your name?" Parker asked, bending to one knee.

"Harry Corvo."

"My name is Parker McCloud." He pointed toward the vent. "It is cramped in there. Do you think you can handle that?"

"I . . . I can do anything," Harry replied. "They killed my parents . . . I will have my revenge."

"You know this is dangerous. You could die."

"Yes," he said. "I don't care." He turned away from Parker and stepped toward the opened duct.

Jaffer patted the boy on the head and stuffed him into the duct, closing the vent behind him.

Parker moved up to the vent. "Stay as quiet as possible. They might be able to hear you if you move too fast or too loud."

"I will be careful," the boy said.

"You are our last hope, kid," Jaffer said. "Make sure you do it right."

From behind the vent, the boy flashed a thumbs-up.

"We are getting brutalized out here," a random fighter pilot's voice sounded over the radio.

Another wave of MSA fighters swarmed past the _Protector_. Shannon Buckley yanked the control stick and stirred the ship past the incoming fire. Then a group of MSA heavy fighters bombarded the space between them and the _Sheriff_ , rattling the Alliance ships.

Savage dogfights littered the battlefield. The sky above Lunara was lit up with streaks of sapphire and turquoise.

"The yaw is all messed up," Buckley said. "It's a small wonder this control stick hasn't ripped off."

"Ripley, fix it!" Eamonn shouted over his shoulder.

"Already fixing," the old man said, rushing off the bridge and down to the engine room.

"Use lateral thrusters if you have to," he said to Buckley.

"All ships, concentrate your efforts on the MSA cruiser closest to Lunara. We can't let them establish position," Captain Terry announced over the radio.

Eamonn ignored the order, even though he knew its importance. He had other problems to deal with, namely the squadron of MSA fighters flying around the battle zone, picking off ships without any repercussions.

He signaled to Shannon, through the targeting computer, to head toward the MSA fighters. He would make them interested in him so they wouldn't be able to cause anyone else trouble. The _Protector_ bolted toward the circling MSA fighters.

Jan Falloom, who he thought was out of the battle, swept in front of him and led the charge. In a calm and level voice, she said, "They were beginning to annoy me, too."

"Good to see you," he said, and a surge of glee waved over his tense shoulders.

Buckley rotated it one-eighty, as Eamonn continued a random burst of sonic bullets toward the MSA fighters, trying to get their attention

Space was thick with weapons fire, causing the fighters to take heed of their arrival.

A few moments later, the MSA fighters were interested. They scattered their salvos with a few short-range explosions in front of their defense line, preventing the _Protector_ from penetrating with enough fire to slow them.

The battlefield was aglow with cobalt and ruby explosions, fogged by puffs of smoke, crackled by electrical discharges, littered with debris, ablaze with explosions and plasma fires, cut by streaks of sonic bullets, and painted with shafts of exhaust trails. The sight was awesome, terrifying, and incomprehensible; there was no way for Eamonn, Captain Terry, or the MSA to control the battlefield anymore. The small pockets of fighting would have to add up to a win.

"Get ready," Buckley warned as she slammed into the defense line the MSA fighters had formed.

The _Protector_ , with Jan split to her side, bisected the MSA fighter group. The MSA fighters simultaneously scattered from a single unified force into a jumble of discombobulated parts.

"Get on one of their tails. We will have to take them individually," Eamonn said, glancing as Lunara swept past the viewscreen. "Hopefully, Parker can get Lunara on our side."

_And fast_ , he thought.

"Come on," Parker said. "They are pressing forward. We might not get a better chance."

The MSA troops pressed down the tunnel toward them, taking the Alliance by surprise. The initial foray killed a few Alliance troops, but Parker pushed to keep the MSA from swelling forward. They bent, but he stopped them from breaking.

"Hurry," he yelled. "We must press this line or we'll risk being unprepared when the smoker comes."

The Alliance troops raced toward the MSA troops coming down the corridor. They exchanged fire, killing an equal number from each side.

He strained to hold back his excitement and his exuberance. He wanted to race down the tunnel like some reckless mercenary, but that would only get him and a bunch of his troops killed.

_Jinx,_ he thought. This was their shot. He stood. "Come on. They are fighting desperate. We have them pinned."

"You should really cover your backside," a voice said from behind him, "especially with a foolish foray into the enemy."

He spun around, his gun drawn. He found a dozens of MSA troops, guns trained on them. Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. He exchanged a hopeless look with Jaffer. If Lunara wasn't under control soon, the fleet would die a slow, agonizing death. Because of his failure.

Parker and his platoon were disarmed and lined up along the doorway they had tried to overtake. The sight was sad, and he could hardly keep his head up. The jubilant MSA soldiers filled the corridor. He couldn't help but wonder if Harry had been killed.

He looked toward the vent and was surprised to see the young boy sitting patiently, waiting for his opportunity to take some action or escape. For a long moment, he stared at the boy. His eyes demanded the boy crawl away, hide, and escape.

The MSA soldiers stepped toward the group, and he braced for the worst.

Nothing happened, except the rumble of an explosion from down the tunnel. The MSA soldiers swung around when the weapons fired.

His eyes darted to Harry, who reacted instantly. He pushed the vent open and dropped the smokers to the floor. They puffed out plumes of smoke inside the corridor.

In the first moments of the resulting confusion, Jaffer dove to the confiscated rifles to their left, while Parker decided to attack right away. He pulled his fist back and punched the closest MSA soldier to the ground. He cried out at the sharp pain in his knuckles.

Without slowing down, he adjusted his footing and swung his body around to roundhouse kick the next trooper, who staggered into another trooper. Both toppled to the ground.

By this time, Jaffer had grabbed his weapon and used it to subdue the remaining MSA soldiers.

Parker frisked them, searching for an ID and a pistol, and finding both quickly. He slid the card across the doorway's entrance strip but to no avail; the door flashed a lock icon. The MSA in the command room had been watching them the entire time.

"The door is locked," he said with a thick layer of dejection.

"Help us here!" Jaffer screamed at him, distress in his voice.

He spun around, pistol at the ready, and squeezed off a series of shots at the incoming MSA troopers hurrying up the corridor. Shots crisscrossed from each direction, coming in their direction and zipping away from them. He flinched when the blue streaks zipped over his head, and he scrambled to the side, covering himself from the tunnel's opening.

The MSA troopers charged, but their attempt was feeble, and Parker noticed something odd. It was as if they were running away from something. They suddenly stopped, dropped to the ground, and surrendered.

Jaffer gave Parker a queer look.

A moment later, through the thick smoke, Parker saw them. Atalo Grove and Ty Falloom appeared in the distance, out from around the corner, rifles in hand.

A wave of relief washed over him. The hope that had vanished when he found the door locked a moment before was back in his heart. The rightful Lunaran command staff had come to reclaim the colony.

Ty came right to him.

"Ty!" Parker said. "I'm glad you're alive. Jan will be so relieved." He put one arm around him in an informal embrace.

"Is she safe?" Ty said.

"As safe as Jan gets," he replied. "She is fighting out there in one of the starwings."

"The starwings have weapons? Why aren't Seth and Chloe flying them?"

"Ty, the week was long; we had to retrofit the starwings with weapons; there is a civil war on Mars; Seth and Chloe are prisoners; Jan and Eamonn are fighting in that battle out there; Gwen has joined with the other side, and Roche," he said, letting out a sigh, "Roche is dead."

"Roche . . . I will miss him," Ty said. His voice trailed off, and he lowered his head. "He was a good friend and will be forever. Let's get this colony back for him. As for the rest of that information, I will need to be debriefed at another time."

"What happened to you?" Parker said. "How did you find us?"

"Grove and his crew rescued me from my cell in E1. I have followed them up to this point."

"I can add a bit to the story," Grove said. "Tarlynn and I were held up in a supply room in the lower tunnels of the colony. They forced us to move when the security sweeps were running close to us. We met up with a few other Lunarians. I followed Ty's orders, and we waited in the abandoned tunnels to the south. When we finally received an encrypted transmission over the communications unit, we couldn't do anything with it, so we sprang Ty, and he entered the codes to decrypt. We returned the message and came up here to help. That story will sound better to my kids, but you get the gist."

"Make sure you tell them how much of a hero you are to us," Ty said, patting him on the back and then turning to the group. "We need to get into the control room. They'll have power restored soon, and I want to be there so we can surprise the MSA fighters with fire from Lunara. The cruisers will bug out when the fighters are eliminated."

"We might be stuck here. The MSA are locked up pretty tightly," said Parker and turned to the Aethpisian lieutenant. "Any new reports?"

"Sir, we failed," Jaffer said. "The fortifying doors are closed, and the circuitry is fried. We don't have anything strong enough to blast them open without ripping the colony into pieces."

"Even still," Parker added, "dynocharges wouldn't leave a mark on those doors, and we don't have any resonance charges small enough to detonate."

"What about napalm grenades?" Ty said. "Can't we strap them to the door and let the explosion melt through?" He retrieved a football-shaped object from a fallen soldier. He turned it with his hand, and the red liquid inside oozed along the clear coating. "I bet if we angled this just right, a concentrated burst could eat through those doors."

"It could work," Parker said.

"Good enough for me," Ty said, handing the grenade to Grove. "I want it welded to the center of the door with a strip of metal." Ty looked around the hallway. "And take out those cameras. I don't need them watching us."

"Mister," a faint voice said from behind them. "Did we win?"

"Oh no," he said, spinning around. He dashed over to the ventilation shaft and unlatched the holdings. The boy slid out and dusted himself off as best as he could.

Parker grabbed him by the shoulders. "You are the hero of the day." He knelt and wiped the grime from the boy's face.

The boy smiled listlessly. "Are we going to knock the door down?"

"We will try, but you shouldn't be here any longer. We put you in danger for far too long."

"I just want to help," the boy replied. "They won't let me carry a gun."

"No, they shouldn't. You are helping fine. Now, go to the back and find a place to hide. It's about to get loud and scary up here. I will come find you when we take the command center. You can sit in the chief's office while we blast the bad guys out of the sky."

"Really, in the chief's chair?"

"Yes, I am in good with him."

"I'm not scared, but I will go . . . because they need protection in the back," the boy said.

"Keep them safe." Parker pushed the boy back to start him running down the hallway, dodging the troops moving in preparation to enter the command center. In a few seconds, the boy, homeless but resilient, was gone from his sight. Parker turned toward the fortified door. The engineers had fastened the grenade tightly. "You have to let me pull the trigger," he called to Grove. "I want to see the dumbfounded look in their eyes."

"By all means," Atalo said, dropping his shoulders. "I hoped someone would volunteer. No telling how much this thing will spray."

"Are you trying to make me nervous?" Parker smirked. "I flew in on a transport that had to be one hundred years old just to get here. That is nerve."

Grove laughed sluggishly.

"Back!" Parker yelled. The troops took positions behind the barricade the MSA troops had formed. Ty and Grove held a position some way down the hallway.

Parker's hands were clammy as the sweat pushed out of his body. Everyone hid, waiting for him to detonate the grenade; eyes peered over bunker heads. They focused on him, and he couldn't help but be aware of his loneliness, without Sarah, his crew, or the _Protector_. This was the moment where the battle culminated for the new Alliance. If the grenade did nothing to the door, they were sunk. There was no way into the command center except through this door. He set the timer for ten seconds and activated the countdown. He raced to the bunker closest to him in the corridor and dove for cover.

"Three . . . two . . . one," Parker counted in his head.

_SPLOOSH!_ The grenade exploded. Ricocheting off the shielded metal, the red ooze splattered all over the lobby area. The door dripped with red ooze, concentrated on the impact site and lessening as it sprayed out.

"It didn't work," Parker shouted, inspecting the half-eaten doorway. "The penetration wasn't far enough into the metal. Do we have another one?"

"No, that was the only one left among the MSA troops," Grove said. "What about a welder?"

"No. A welder can't generate enough heat."

"Let's just fire a rocket," Ty said sharply. "The door's structure should be weak enough from the napalm to blast it without sending the explosion away into the building. The shockwave will go into the command center."

"But if it doesn't explode through," Grove objected, "we'll create a massive hole in the corridor. Sending us all into space."

"We have nothing to lose," Parker said. He, too, was unconvinced, but if it did go into the command center, as Ty hoped, the refortified structure would hold up.

"Parker," a voiced called over his communications unit.

He forgot he had the unit in his breast pocket. Retrieving it, he shouted: "Go ahead, Parker here."

"This is Eamonn. We need you to get control of the command center—immediately. Our fighters are overwhelmed, and the _Regulator_ and the _Sheriff_ are running low on munitions."

"We are trying. They put down the fortifying doors. We are almost done setting up our plan."

"Buckley, look out!"

Parker winced.

"Quickly!" Eamonn said. "We were nearly blasted. Get the defensive system back up and firing at the MSA cruisers."

"Hey, if you talk with Jan, tell her Ty is okay."

"I read you," Eamonn said. "Buckley, hard to port. Eamonn out."

"We have the rocket set up and aligned," Ty announced. "I want everyone behind the blast barricade. Parker, you pull the trigger." He pointed at Jaffer. "You six through the door and securing the room before the smoke clears."

"We understand, sir," Jaffer replied.

"Eamonn just radioed," Parker said. "They need us. The MSA are slaughtering them. The _Barracuda_ is gone." He did not want to believe they would lose because of a door, which he could open easily if given the proper time.

Ty nodded, then hurried behind a barricade, leaving Parker alone.

Parker knelt next to the tripod holding the rocket in place. He put his eye to the scope and manually checked the alignment beam. Precisely, the sights were in the center of the blast radius. "Get ready," he called out. With a hand gesture, Grove signaled the team to begin.

Parker wiped his brow and dried his hands on the thighs of his pants. Sweat rolled down his spine, and his stomach knotted. He felt like he was experiencing every physical side effect from stress and utter terror.

_This is it, Parker, if the door doesn't blast open, the back draft will kill you and everyone in this hallway, and the command center will be able to take out all your friends in the sky above. No pressure._ He squeezed against the trigger.

_SWOOSH!_ The rocket left the cylindrical holding and accelerated toward the weakened door.

_BOOM!_ In that instant, Parker thought he was dead. The echoing roar thundered down the hallway, and the entire colony shook. The backwash from the explosion sent him flying backward into a hard barrier, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air, and a loud ringing consumed his mind.

Soldiers poured toward the doorways, and confusion riddled the hallway. Flashes of gunfire flickered in his spinning vision.

He tried to find his balance while instinctively searching for cover. He rolled around on the floor, feeling terrifyingly alone.

Then, as if he had never lost it, his hearing returned, and footsteps came from behind. He waved off the medic. He would be fine after his head stopped swimming. A concussion, he diagnosed himself.

He attempted to get up but stumbled to the ground. A small hand grabbed his arm. "Use me to hold you up."

"Harry, what are you doing here? I told you to hide."

"The medics needed someone to carry the bandages," Harry said, showing off the bag he had around over his back. "I wanted to help you."

"You were brave," he said, still wobbly in his knees.

"Stay down," Harry said. "I'll protect you until you can walk again."

"Thanks, I should be okay in a few minutes. I was at the head of that loud bang. Did you hear it?"

"I think we all heard it. The rumbling gave me goose bumps and not the good kind. And you were at the front?"

"Yes, I pulled the trigger," he said, trying to impress the young boy. "We needed to knock the door down to save the people outside."

"The bad guys are coming out." The boy pointed.

Through the blasted hole, the MSA command staff traipsed through. Many of the officers lowered their heads. A platoon of soldiers led them out. Harry took a few steps back, and Parker put his arm around the boy and held him in place. "Never let them see you scared," he whispered into the boy's ear. Parker's face hardened as he looked into the eyes of the twenty or so MSA officers and soldiers passing him. They had killed Sarah. Harry mimicked his tough expression.

After the final prisoner moved past, Parker stood and was almost back to normal, aside from nausea in his stomach, but it wasn't enough to hamper him. "I am all better. Let's go into the command center and see how things are shaping up. Don't touch anything though. Just sit quietly."

"No, problem. Not a peep," the boy said, saluting like a soldier.

Parker smiled and took his hand, leading him into the command center. As he walked in, his radio crackled. He clutched his pocket, knowing Eamonn was in trouble again.

The door snapped open, and Seth, Gwen, and Chloe jogged onto the platform. Seth scanned for any MSA soldiers and found no one, only a starship.

The ship's tripod landing base held up a sleek body and two narrow wings. As they hurried around the back, Seth noticed the stabilizing fin ran up the back of the ship, giving him the impression of a shark. The engine was a smaller model than the one in the _Protector_ , but it had powerful enough quickdrives to get them to Lunara in a week or two. Large bay windows running alongside the ship offset the indigo, glistening exterior. The forward windows jetted out to form a pair of bug-like eyes.

Gwen and Chloe ran directly to the loading ramp to the side of the ship.

Seth adjusted his breathing mask and dashed to the far side of the platform to the maintenance hub. He slipped in. The hub consisted of four walls surrounding a control station, which connected it to the landing pad. Three of the walls were glass, and the back wall, where the control panel was located, glittered with a metalor finish.

The hub's connection indicated the ship was ready; monitored energy and fuels levels read at good to excellent levels. He adjusted the fuel pump to fill the tanks a little further so they would make it to Lunara if they had to detour to another landing site.

The blast of the engine firing up startled him. The noise deafened him. His nerves tingled, but he didn't realize how badly he was shaking until the engine's roar shook the hub. He focused hard to adjust the gauges.

A twitch tickled his neck. He turned around. No one was there. Chloe and Gwen were busy in the cockpit fiddling with the controls and preparing the ship for departure. Then Chloe started to wave at him, and he waved back. She probably wanted to know how the ship was doing.

She jabbed her finger toward the doorway.

He glanced over and saw it was fastened shut.

Suddenly, she became emphatic and ran to the back of the ship toward the platform. What was she upset about?

He walked out of the hub to meet her. When—

A blunt object struck him in the side of the head, sending him sprawling across the platform. He came to a stop beside the ship. His head spun.

By the time he realized the butt of a gun had knocked him senseless, Chloe came to him, holding his arm.

"What do you want, Chancellor?" she shouted. "We won't surrender to you this time. We'd rather die."

"Would you rather he died?" the chancellor replied. "Come with us and Seth can go free."

"You'll let him go," she replied.

"I promise."

"Don't believe him," Gwen said from behind, walking up cautiously. Her hand fingered her arm control, ready for a strike. "Father, the gun turret under the ship is linked to this control. I have you and your cronies programmed into the computer. Go back down the service elevator where you came from, and no one will be hurt."

Gwen walked in front of him.

Seth's gaze moved over to the chancellor as he walked toward Gwen with his arms open.

The chancellor's three guards stood with their guns pointed at him.

"You won't shoot me. I know you can't," the chancellor said.

"Don't let him conflict you, Gwen," Chloe said. "His mind is riddled with deceit."

"She lies!" the chancellor bellowed.

"Don't take another step, Father," Gwen said sharply. "I'm not lying. You're programmed into this computer, too. I have no hesitation after what you did to me. You lied to your own daughter. How can you look me in the eye anymore?"

"I just wanted to protect you."

"From what?"

"From the entire fight. I did this so your children will be safe when the next disaster strikes. We have to speak out, take action, and prepare for the future. This is the time for your choice. You can give up those two to help Mars, and I will forget this ever happened. I can't protect you if you kill me."

Past the chancellor, the door to the platform snapped open, and troops fired toward the ship. Gwen tapped the control pad, and the turret killed the three guards around the chancellor in an instant. They fell with blackened chests. Then the turret turned toward the facility and fired numerous shots into the doorway, sending the MSA soldiers back for cover.

Though dizzy, Seth pulled out his pistol and fired three quick shots across the landing pad into the doorway's control pad, snapping the door shut when the emergency short circuit triggered.

"Get on the ship!" Seth yelled. "The hub says it's safe to take off."

Gwen and Chloe turned and raced up the ramp.

Seth pivoted his feet to run, but before he took even a half stride, the chancellor tackled him to the ground. An iron grip pressed around his arms.

Seth should have figured that Gwen wouldn't program her father into the turret's targeting computer. He wiggled frantically, twisting his body, but even with his incredible strength, he had a hard time leveraging his body from the ground. The chancellor had all his weight on top of him. They wrestled—Seth desperate for an escape and the chancellor desperate for a chance at his perverted future.

Inside the ship, on her way to the cockpit, Gwen grabbed her chest as a voice within contracted her ribs. Sheer terror waved over her body, but it was not her own fear. It was coming from someone else—such a pulsating sensation. She twisted around to see where and from whom it was coming.

Chloe's horrified face looked out of the hatchway.

What is scarier than this current escape attempt? What has changed? Where is Seth?

That thought triggered Gwen's realization that, somehow, Chloe was projecting her terrified mind into her. Soon enough, Chloe's terror would kill her, Gwen, by giving her a heart attack. Chloe read and sensed people's thoughts, but Gwen was unaware until now that she also projected them. Another reason her father could never get his hands on her. And Seth was the only reason that she would show this much panic. He must be in trouble.

Gwen staggered over to the hatchway and pushed Chloe to the deck of the ship, stopping the sensation instantly.

Chloe's mouth hung agape.

Without saying a word, Gwen slipped through the hatchway and back to the ramp. She was the one who would have to save Seth. Chloe was useless.
Chapter 40

"Good news, sir," Parker called from across the room. "The passwords and the access codes are the same. It's like we never left. They didn't get around to changing them."

"Without me or Tarlynn, they couldn't change them without restarting the system," Ty replied. "The administrator program wouldn't allow it." He pumped his fist. Finally, something was going their way; all they needed was a little more time to calibrate the defense systems to turn the battle around. "Weapons control. Retarget those turrets on the MSA fighters. Forget about the cruisers for now." He hastened over to where Grove had taken a seat at communications control. "Get in contact with the _Protector_. Tell them to draw the fighters close to the colony."

Parker craned his neck as Ty approached. "What is it?"

"You know the Emergency Missile System for defense against large incoming meteors. Why don't we use a resonance charge on the MSA?"

"We can't hit a fighter with one of those. The missiles are too slow."

"If we can keep from moving laterally, an MSA cruiser would be slow enough to get a decent lock on," Ty said. "We need to reconfigure the terminal to track the cruiser so we can lock on from this close of range."

Parker's eyes shot open. "I can do that."

"Precisely. Get to work."

The _Protector_ darted around ship after ship with three MSA fighters on its tail. The hull—stressed to maximum tolerance—groaned, and claps of the explosive shockwaves grated at their ears.

"I can't shake it!" Buckley cried, eyeing the ship in her peripheral viewscreen.

"Draw it toward Lunara. We'll get cover there."

"From what?" Buckley said. Her hands were moving the control stick back and forth. She was flying on pure instinct, her eyes zeroing in on the cluster of debris in their flight path, always staying three or four moves ahead. Cutting up and dodging back down, she worked back toward the reach of Lunara's turret guns. "I hope they have those things running. I'm losing my angle with these fighters."

"They will; hold her as low as possible," Eamonn replied. "Ripley, aim high over the ships with our cannons. I want those fighters dodging toward the surface."

"I'm adjusting the cannons to fire high, sir," Ripley replied, his voice coarser than normal, no doubt dry from the tension.

Outside of the ship, a streak of bullets fired out from the _Protector's_ turret cannon and sailed over the top of the fighters, which, as Eamonn expected, dodged down to escape the intense stream.

Out the front of the viewscreen, Lunara's turret cannons swung around to target the group of fighters moving into the targeting zone.

One MSA fighter panicked—no doubt seeing the turrets adjusting to target his fighter and not his enemy. He pulled up into the stream of bullets from the _Protector_. The other fighter pilots knew what was inevitable for them; they were trapped on all sides.

Lunara locked onto the fighters and fired its double cannons at a frantic pace.

The first volley tore away the plasma shielding from around the MSA fighter's hull. Violently, the second volley ripped the hull into pieces, the engine mount tearing away from the cockpit capsule, making it spiral cruelly around. All the fighters met the same fate.

A brilliant explosion of orange and red bubbled around the fighters, enveloping the pilots in a hellfire of flames. They had no time to eject.

"Parker, do you have the resonance charge ready yet?" Ty called as he dashed over to the emergency firing terminal. Ty's breath pushed against Parker's ear as the chief leaned in over his shoulder.

"I'm about a minute away," Parker replied. "I need to remove some fuel. The propulsion system will have to be more agile to get a darting target. I'm setting the resonance charge to explode in a bubble pattern, which will do the most damage no matter where it hits. Which one should I target?"

"The one you can hit."

"Okay, cruiser B on the left side. The captain is coming at a panicked angle and will have no room to turn when she reaches those wrecked fighters." He concentrated on the targeting screen. "The missile is ready."

"Launch it then!"

"Patience. I have to get the cruiser where I want it."

Lunara shook as the MSA cruiser's bombardment arrived with a horrific thunder. Several joints in the superstructure creaked.

Lunara fought back. The whine of the anti-missile tracking turrets howled above the yelps of the command crew in the control station. The radar screen showed a massive convoy of missiles impacting Lunara. The command center shook violently.

Ty fell to one knee and yelled several curses. Parker looked over, but Ty waved off his concern with a flick of his hand.

Through the viewscreen, the command center watched the old communications tower crumble to the ground. The structure fell destructively into the new hangar bay. The bombarded surface around Lunara kicked up rocks and boulders that hurled onto the colony with a continuous rattle.

"Parker, do it now," Ty pleaded.

"Hold on," he muttered.

Ty looked at him.

For what seemed like an eternity, Parker sat motionless, concentrating on the targeting computer. "Gone!"

The command center sat frozen.

Parker took in a short breath and fixated on the resonance charge flying out of Lunara toward the MSA cruiser.

"The missile is sluggish!" someone cried. "An easy target!"

"No it isn't," the radio crackled with Shannon Buckley's voice.

Out from the top of the colony's towers, the _Protector_ flew in front of the resonance charge, taking the full brunt of the firepower from the MSA cruisers' tracking defense system.

"Go _Protector_ , stay with her!" Ty rooted.

The left wing of the _Protector_ screeched as the metal tore from the hull and flipped end over end toward the emptiness of space. The remaining salvo of antimissile fire skimmed harmlessly along its dorsal fin, rippling the plasma shielding.

Eamonn knew they couldn't take the MSA cruiser head-on for much longer. At best, the _Protector_ had only one more maneuver before it came apart. At worst, the next hit would obliterate them. The cool hand of reality squeezed at his heart.

A flash of light from the MSA cruiser sparked his senses. Instinctively, Buckley jerked the control stick to the side, pushing Gs into his head. He growled to relieve the pain.

The _Protector_ rolled, showed its belly to the MSA cruiser and purposely absorbed a heap of antimissile bullets. The pinging off the hull squealed into the crew's ears, forcing a terrified yelp from Fenor Davis.

After absorbing a full salvo, Shannon yanked the control stick back to level, sweeping the _Protector_ away from the MSA cruiser, barely missing it.

Eamonn knew Buckley had given the missile enough time, and he knew Ripley had been right; Buckley was the best pilot in the fleet. Maybe it was her finely honed instincts or her woman's intuition—or maybe it was just fate that she should show her skill at this point.

Cycling the viewscreen toward the MSA cruiser, Eamonn stared at the impending explosion. Even if they died in the next few moments, he had no intention of going without watching the missile strike the MSA cruiser.

The last thing he remembered before it happened was a loud cry from Buckley, a cry of pure exhilaration.

Parker swore he heard the missile bite into the MSA cruiser, but that was impossible through the vacuum of space. Tensely, they waited for it to rip the ship apart. Aside from radio chatter, which had slackened, silence filled the inside of the command center.

Mouth agape, Parker fixed his stare toward the MSA cruiser. The hull, around where the missile entered, buckled and shook. The metal imploded, folding the ship in half. With an unexpected blast, a massive shockwave ripped the cruiser into two pieces. He shielded his eyes when the brilliant light flooded the command center.

"Nuclear reaction," he muttered.

The circular shockwave hurled itself toward the _Sheriff_ and the _Regulator_ , causing them to turn their noses up in an attempt to lessen the vibrations. It worked. The ships didn't show any structural damage. However, he imagined the multitude of problems that now existed within the ship.

Lunara was next on the shockwave's path of victims; the north half of the colony took the brunt of the rippling wave. The moon shuddered under his feet, and a groan followed shortly thereafter. Small explosions beat like drums. Lunara held.

Parker slumped, and relief washed over his body. They had won. They had defeated the MSA and reclaimed the colony. An uncontrollable smirk curled his cheeks upward.

Some minutes later, the battle was over, and Parker could barely believe their success. The last MSA cruiser used the distraction of the explosion to retreat into deep space before anyone noticed. The _Sheriff_ gave chase, but Ty recalled it to set up a defensive perimeter.

The command center cheered for joy. Ty patted Parker on the back, and they walked down from the weapons controls into the main command area to celebrate with the other officers.

"Well done," Ty said repeatedly. He shook the hands of many soldiers who wanted to thank him for his work—his luck, he thought—and he returned the favor with his own thanks.

"Sir," Grove said, "I'm getting transmission from the _Unity_. Captain James reports that some are still alive on the ship."

Parker raced over to the Grove. "Did you say the _Unity_?"

"Yes, sure. They're trapped to the east of Lunara."

Parker needed to hear no more. He sprinted from the room and yelled back to Ty. "I'm taking the transport. She might still be alive."

Methodically, Seth inched to the side, trying to find enough leverage on the chancellor. The chancellor's weight was concentrated on Seth's shoulders, driving him hard into the platform's cold concrete surface. He was so close Seth smelled his breath.

Finally able to get his leg turned and free of the chancellor's weight, he garnered all his strength and sprung up, tossing the chancellor across the platform, where he seemed to slide over the edge.

"Father!" Gwen rushed down the ramp in full sprint.

"Help, Gwen come save me!" the chancellor whined.

Seth looked again and saw that the chancellor had not really fallen over the edge. Ever resourceful, or perhaps due to blind luck, the chancellor dangled over the edge, holding onto the landing pad's guidance torches.

"How the mighty have fallen . . . in the blink of an eye," Seth muttered.

Seth stumbled as he got to his feet and fell back onto the platform. A wave of dizziness consumed him. He exhaled a deep grunt and pushed the sensation away.

By this time, Gwen moved over and bent beside him, rubbing the side of his head. "Are you okay?"

"Gwen, my head . . . let's get to the ship. We must escape."

He noticed blood on her hands. His blood.

"I . . . will you be okay?" Gwen brushed the hair along the side of his head.

"I'll be fine in a moment. With my strength, the pain is passing. We must escape."

Gwen looked long into his eyes.

Seth knew she could hear her father's pleas and had no doubt that she was conflicted.

"Once you get to Lunara, you must tell the crew that I was loyal," she said. "I was never a traitor."

"You never were," he said.

"They doubt—"

"Look!" He pointed past her to the doorway that was inching open. Soldiers appeared.

"You must come with us," he pleaded.

"I can't," she said with a great emptiness. "I must save my father. There is no time to save him and get to the ship."

Seth pulled on her arm, firmly. "I can't leave you here alone."

She grabbed his hand and held it against her arm. "You must; Chloe needs you. Save her. My father cherishes her abilities the most out of either of you." They both gazed toward the shuttle. "My father needs me like Chloe needs you. I must guide him back to what we had built before this all started, make him see this overthrow is wrong. My banishment was a part of his plan so I wouldn't interfere, but my influence reminded him of my mother and her ideals and guided him to honesty. With me away, he drifted into secrecy and deceit."

"But he was evil for years," Seth said. "He's been constructing this plan since the war ended."

Gwen shook her head. "He never would have acted if I was here. I know his heart is good. Go now or my guards will have died in vain rescuing you."

In the distance, the chancellor moaned. "Gwen, help your father."

Her eyes widened.

"I'll come back for you," Seth said. "When we have recovered, I promise you."

"You will," she said, rubbing her hand across his cheek. She kissed him on the forehead and pulled him to his feet. "Go now."

He dashed up the ramp, and Chloe pulled on his hand, guiding him into the ship. The hatchway door shut, and they moved into the cockpit.

Gwen hurried over to her father, grabbed him by the jacket, and heaved until he had enough of a grasp to pull himself on top of the platform. She didn't care if he was injured. She didn't even check. The ship started to hover off the deck. The engine's ion drive flared into full power, and the landing struts retracted. A smirk formed, infinitely small on her face, but as wide as Mars's biggest chasma in her heart, as the soldiers stormed on the platform and shot futilely into the reinforced hull.

The ship eased away from the facility, turned the engines to full, did a sweeping turn, and blasted at a steep angle through the sky out into space. They had escaped.

"I knew you wouldn't program me into the gun turret's computer," her father said. "I knew you still loved me."

He grabbed her with both of his arms and drew her close.

She started to weep on his shoulder. Her father was lost. Somehow, she would find a way to bring him back.

She heard boots shuffling, then Thomas Cross moved up to them, sneering at her. "We will take her into custody from here, Chancellor."

"No. She is my daughter."

"She broke into the security center and killed a man."

Gwen took in a quick breath. So they did know about her foray into the security center before the gala. Her father had protected her. _Why?_

Her father's faced turned sour. "She saved my life. Where were you when I was in trouble? Stuck behind the doorway."

Cross was unimpressed. "Should I send a squadron to capture the ship? We can't risk them."

"No, get us a transport back to the main dome. We have a war to win. Our forces on Mars have almost completed their objectives, and the rogue force over Lunara should be easily overpowered. Those two will be caught in a trap regardless, and Bauer will need them alive."

"We should kill them now," Cross said. "They will only cause trouble for us."

Gwen's heart skipped. Cross was a brutal man, and she felt better about not programming her father into the turret gun. He was the only man keeping Cross from killing her.

"Not yet," her father said. "Be patient. They have nowhere to run."

Gwen's stomach tightened at the thought of Seth and Chloe's capture, as they had risked so much for their escape. She held her father's arm as they walked off the platform. She took one last gaze into the sky and wished the blue streak above her a pleasant voyage and safe return to Lunara. Tears streamed down her face.
Chapter 41

The _Unity_ , half buried, sat in the distance. The back of the ship was a heap of twisted and scorched metal. The front was unscathed, but lunar dirt and dust covered it. The MSA cruiser lay motionless to the side of the _Unity_ , and trails of smoke and fluids leaked from different parts of the cracked hull. The _Unity_ 's bridge crew was fortunate when they crashed to have had the agility to pull up and lessen the impact. Parker doubted anyone on the MSA cruiser survived, not after seeing the peeled back air locks, the result of an explosive decompression that had ripped through the ship on impact, exposing the crew to the vacuum of space.

Piloting the transport vessel, he circled the _Unity_ , and the silhouettes of people moved in the main window into the bridge. He lowered in toward the emergency hatch that was marked with yellow and red warning stripes.

Ten minutes later, the transport vessel locked clamps to the hatch, resonating with a clang. Both jubilation and pure terror vexed his thoughts of what might lie inside. _Will Sarah be alive or dead? Can I face either eventuality?_

When the door sealed, the clasp released to open the hatch. His ears popped. He looked for Sarah, but the officers, floating toward the hatchway, blocked his line of sight.

"Thank you, sir," an officer said. "We thought no one would ever come. We almost ran out of air."

"Come right in, plenty of air in here. Take a seat in formation, I'll get you back to Lunara in no time," Parker said, waving his arm for them to enter.

The soldiers moved by him one by one.

His face fell as he watched the soldiers; some had severe burns on their arms and legs, and some with broken ribs held their sides; the ribs had most likely been broken by their restraining harnesses during the jarring impact.

Finally, she appeared. She held gauze to her mouth, covered in blood. Parker raced through the hatchway directly for her, almost thumping his head on the ceiling with the sudden shift to low gravity.

"Sarah, I thought you had died. I . . . I . . ."

She extended her arm, and he grabbed on to her to stabilize himself. He pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. He lowered the gauze on her lip. The left side of her lip was black and blue with stitches closing it.

She touched her hand to his face. "I don't think I'll be winning any beauty contests."

"You would win every one running away. It wouldn't even be a contest," he said, moving his lips toward hers.

She stopped him. "It will hurt."

"I'll be gentle." Parker whispered, running his fingers through her tattered hair. He moved in once again to kiss her.

She stopped him again. "I'll get blood on you."

"It doesn't matter." He forced his lips to hers.

She dropped the gauze and embraced him, pulling him in tighter. She cringed at the stinging pain with each kiss but she continued.

He knew she had fallen in love.

An hour later, Parker and Sarah met Eamonn Dalton, Shannon Buckley, Ty and Jan Falloom, the brave boy Harry Corvo, and his sister, Emily. They stood gazing out toward the red dot hovering between the charred remains of the battlefield.

Parker noted the silence lasted for a long time. The aches of exhaustion started to throb in his weary body, and he had no doubt they felt the same. He thought back to the meteor run before the invasion and the closeness of the crew then. Considering they had faced so much adversity together before, he didn't know why they had fractured so decisively on Mars. He was confident that when the events of the last few days set in, they would pull together and bring justice to the MSA. That was his plan.

"Do you think they'll be all right?" Jan said. "I feel so bad leaving them the way we did."

"Seth will protect Chloe until it costs him his life," Eamonn said. "She will do the same. They will come out of this okay in the end, but I don't envy their position. We lost Roche and Gwen."

Parker's jaw tightened. "Gwen is not dead, and she will help them. I know she is on our side, working from within."

"She is a part of the crew of the _Protector_ ," Jan said, "and even if she is the chancellor's daughter, she won't betray us."

Eamonn sighed. "Let's hope she hasn't turned."

"I know she hasn't," Parker said. "The crew's bond is too great."

"Wow, check that out!" Harry shouted, pointing out of the window.

Small explosions from within the debris field sent a brilliant flash of blue and green into view. Parker pulled Sarah in a little closer.
Epilogue

"Quickdrives activated," Seth said. "All we can do is wait. I spotted an MSA cruiser on long-range radar fleeing Lunara. I am getting positive reports from Aethpis about a victory on Lunara. I'm encouraged, but let's stay low profile nonetheless."

"I agree," Chloe said, moving over to where he sat. They both stared out the rear window at the fading Mars. "We need to keep hidden for as long as possible. We don't really know what is happening on Lunara."

The ship turned, righting itself on the assigned course toward Earth. Mars slid into view out of the aft porthole.

"Mars is fading," Chloe said. "I hope Gwen is all right. She sacrificed a lot to save us. Including her reputation."

"She stayed to save her father, not only from the fall, but also from himself and what he is doing on Mars. If anyone can stop the MSA, I think Gwen can. She'll bring peace to Mars."

"I sense confusion in her heart. She loves her father so much. I hope it doesn't cloud her judgment."

"She will have help," he said. I promised her I would return to Mars to rescue her. I just hope we are not too late."

"We will return."

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES . . .

Lunara Series Books

Original Trilogy:  
Lunara: Seth and Chloe  
Lunara: Gwen and Eamonn  
Lunara: Parker and the Protector

Legacy Duology (20 Years later):  
Lunara: Alexandria I (coming 2012)  
Lunara: Alexandria II (coming 2012)

www.lunaraseries.com
