

# Saving Mars

A sequel to Orchid in the Void

Copyright 2018 Steve Whitting

Published by Steve Whitting at Smashwords

Cover art by Steve Whitting

ISBN 9780463322895

_Saving Mars_ is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of

this author.

# Acknowledgements

This book is dedicated to all of my family, friends, and fans who read my first novel, _Orchid in the Void_ , and liked it.

CHAPTER 1

The attack came on December 7. Future historians will have to decide whether the date was chosen deliberately based on its historical significance, or it just happened to present the most favorable launch window.

They lifted in mass when Kilimanjaro faced away from Luna from a hundred silos positioned in a circle around the slope of the extinct volcano. As soon as the first wave launched the silos were reloaded and a second wave lifted scant minutes later. Next there came a third wave, followed by a fourth, then a fifth, and so on. With each launch their massive candles filled the sky like flights of flaming arrows launched by an army of medieval archers.

The largest space fleet ever assembled arrived in lunar orbit mere hours later. The few Space Guard candles in orbit were vaporized before they could get off a shot. Luna had no surface-to-space defenses, there being no perceived need. The bulk of the Earther's armada took up residence in lunar orbit while their occupation force descended upon Neil Armstrong Spaceport and seized Copernicus City. Similar landings took place at the other major lunar downports so that, in less than a day, they effectively controlled Luna.

Most of the occupation force consisted of pseudo-sapient warbots. Their bodies were constructed with reactive armor and their speed was superior to their human counterparts. They swarmed by the thousands through the major lunar cities like a plague of locusts, quickly neutralizing any opposition. The few Earther human commandos accompanying them were encased in similarly armored, powered 'battleshells' with integrated weapon systems.

For eighty years, ever since the 'Fat Lady' had decimated their world, the Earthers had been preparing for this. They'd used their giant tunneling 'bots to build a globe spanning network of tunnels connecting massive caverns where they recreated the ecology of their devastated planet. Like the mysterious ancient Martian's, they'd constructed a world within a world. They'd steadily rebuilt their population from a few thousand survivors to well over a half-million, but that was not nearly enough to achieve their goal of reclaiming the Sol System so they'd built an army of millions of pseudo-sapient warbots to do their fighting for them. Their vast army was guided by a highly sophisticated A.I. with access to all the lessons learned from every battle in recorded history. An A.I. with the memories and vindictive personality of the long-dead Russ Schwätzer.

With Luna secured as their beachhead, they next turned their attention to the neighboring red planet that had caused them so much grief . . .

* * *

Sound familiar? I wrote that after Helen Bach told me about the frightening vision that the ancient Martians had supposedly shared with her. Yeah, I said _supposedly_. I'd come to increasingly doubt that our encounter with them was real and that we'd somehow shared a common hallucination brought on by a combination of oxygen deprivation and her unique telepathic abilities. I thought it would make good fodder for an _Out to the Void_ episode, but I couldn't figure out how my hero, the ever brave and resourceful Captain Jack Parsec, and his trusty crew were going to defeat the vengeful Earthers' warbot hoards and save the Sol System from being enslaved by the evil Schwätzer A.I., so it never made it to the stream.

If this is all just meaningless static to you, then you apparently didn't read my first account of how I became an independent spacer after I inherited a butt load of bitcreds from my father, got very, _very_ drunk, and bought a used candle at auction with the 'help' of my best friend and business partner, John. This little narrative is a _sequel,_ after all.

Okay, so back on course: I was watching the newstream with my girlfriend, Jan. Jan as in Jan Aradal, CEO of interplanetary supercorp Aratek and heiress to the vast Aradal fortune. Yes, I mean _that_ Jan Aradal. She was cuddling with me in her bed after we'd sexed when her wall 'face decided to interrupt our romantic interlude with some news that it deemed was important. Jan was disinterested in the 'cast, but the content immediately caught my attention. Accustream was running a segment about mysterious bright flashes of light that had been spotted on Earth. Although the flashes seemed to originate from Mt. Kilimanjaro, they were too bright and too brief for volcanic eruptions. It reminded me of my aborted _Out to the Void_ episode.

Jan waved her hand at the distracting wall 'face and it abruptly went blank. I guessed I'd have to catch up on the story later.

"Have you given any more thought to my proposal," She asked me as she gently fondled my male parts and interrupted my train of thought. I was still handcuffed to the headboard of her supersized bed after she'd sexed with me. Jan liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and that usually meant that I was restrained and she was on top dictating both the pace and duration of our lovemaking. She knew how to keep me on edge while pleasuring herself and only allow me my reward after she was thoroughly satisfied.

I've got to admit, I really enjoyed it!

"You have me at something of a disadvantage," I told her. "Does a wrong answer mean I stay your prisoner?"

"And what answer would _that_ be?" she said with a slight frown.

I paused and took a deep breath before replying, somewhat fearful of what her reaction might be.

"I love you and . . . yes I'll marry you, but I don't want to give up the spacer's life either." I said hesitantly.

There, I'd said it despite all my aversion toward marital commitments. How could I not have? She truly was the woman of my dreams. She was a beautiful, raven-haired Greek goddess come to life. She was strong, smart, brave, and she shared my love of good beer.

She was also the same woman who'd left me stranded a half-billion kilometers from nowhere with an almost-empty fuel tank on our first meeting, but we'd gotten passed that.

She gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment with those pale blue eyes of hers, the smiled broadly and kissed me passionately.

"That's one of the things I love about you, Pete. You're always honest with me, and that's a rare quality."

"Thanks," I said smiling with genuine relief.

"I'm not expecting you to give up spacing," she explained. "I'd never ask that of you. I'll let you decide when you're ready to settle down. I just needed to hear a commitment for now."

"You've got it."

"In that case I've got a little present for you," Jan said as she slid out of bed and padded softly over to an antique dresser. She withdrew something from a small drawer and, concealing it her hand, walked back towards me, still smiling. She crawled into bed and straddled my upper chest with her back facing me.

I couldn't see what Jan was doing, but I felt her slipping something over my cock. At first it felt like a condom, but then suddenly it seemed to become rigid and gently squeezed my flaccid shaft.

"My family has an old tradition that dates back to the Megagonorrhea-X pandemic," Jan explained as she dismounted, still holding her hand over my crotch. "You're a history buff, so I suppose you know something about that?"

"Ah, not too much."

"I'm surprised. Short version is that they didn't have nano back then, so to prevent becoming infected many engaged couples insured that their spouse-to-be wouldn't have an opportunity to come in contact with the disease by utilizing chastity devices. Usually it was the male who wore the device simply out of practicality," Jan explained as she removed her hand. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of requiring my future husband to wear such a crude device."

I looked down at my crotch. It looked like my cock had been dipped in thick gold paint.

"What is _that_?" I asked alarmed.

"It's your engagement present, my love. It's your personalized chastity sheath. It looks like solid gold, but it's really a nanobot swarm that adapts and conforms to changes in your anatomy.

It won't let you get a stiffy or remove it, though. Only I can take it off, so it will keep you safely monogamous while you're out roaming around the void."

"Hold on! You mean there's no more sexing until we're married?"

"No, silly boy! You and I can sex whenever we're both in the mood. I just want to make sure that the 'REAL Jack Parsec' isn't lured into a situation he'll regret later."

"I remember you once saying that you trusted me," I replied.

"Oh, I trust you, Pete. It's the other people who might try to take advantage of you that I don't trust."

"Jan, I haven't sexed with anyone but you since . . ."

"Helen Bach," she interjected. "Yes I know, and I don't hold that against you since I encouraged that," she said as she absent-mindedly toyed with my chastity sheath.

"I don't understand."

She looked at me a bit teary-eyed and shook her head.

"I've been in love with you ever since you rescued me from that ugly mess on Market," Jan explained to me. "You easily could have taken advantage of the situation and extorted huge amounts of bitcreds from me, but you didn't. Instead you got me safely back to Mars, kept my involvement with Pluto's Children secret, settled for a paltry retainer fee and a contract that you've willingly fulfilled, and been at my beck and call whenever I needed you. You've always come through for me. You claim that you're not the 'REAL Jack Parsec', but you really are and then some."

Wow, I wasn't expecting that!

"At first I thought it was all just infatuation with my rescuer, so when Helen came along I saw an opportunity to put you safely out of reach," she continued. "That didn't work, so then I thought if I just let you keep roaming the Sol System you'd eventually give me a reason to not love you. That obviously didn't work either. So I've resigned myself to the fact that I really do love you and I want to be with you."

"I love you too, Jan," I told her. "I wasn't sure for awhile either. I've always been afraid of commitments. I tried to blame that on my parents, or they way John and Ellie act whenever they're dirtside, or the bad break-up I had with Cat, or a billion other things."

"John told me about you and Cat," said Jan.

"I did care for her a lot, but I realized it was mostly physical. Unfortunately for both of us, she loved me differently than I loved her."

"So, what about _us_?"

"Jan, I love you like I've never loved anyone else," I said slowly. "I love spacing, too. I think if I gave up the void then a part of me would die. I think if I had to lose you then another part of me would die as well."

"You don't have to chose, Pete. I've already told you that I'm not asking that of you."

"I know you're not, but I don't want to keep you waiting at the altar for me for what could be years, either. So I had an idea just now. What if we got married and you joined my crew? We could roam the void together."

Jan looked at me for a moment and then shook her head slowly.

"I can't just abandon Aratek, Pete."

"You did once before."

"Yes, and I returned to a colossal mess that affected billions of lives. Don't think I didn't like what I was doing when I was Captain Spitfire, but I'm still dealing with all the fallout."

"So, has the former social activist pirate decided that corporate capitalism isn't such a bad idea after all?

"What did you tell me about Robin Hood being a myth back on Market? Okay, so you were right, and I was wrong, and I learned my lesson the hard way. Do you think I would have come back to Aratek if I hadn't?

"No, knowing you, I don't. That being the case, would you have any problems with becoming an independent spacer if you could?"

"I'd have no problems at all if we were magically transported to an alternate reality where everyone lives happily ever after!" Jan said laughing. "How would you ever make _that_ work?"

My writer's mind had already formulated a solution, albeit the sort of questionable plot device that seems to work in historical pulp fiction but not necessarily in reality.

"What if Jan Aradal continued to run Aratek, but Spitfire joined the crew?" I suggested.

"Are you suggesting that I _clone_ myself? I'd have to go to Market for that, and from what I've heard the process takes a long time and the results usually aren't very convincing. Without identical life experiences you still get a different person."

"No, I'm not suggesting that you clone yourself," I replied shaking my head. "Instead, how about a stand-in who looks, acts, talks, and, most importantly, decides things the way you would?"

Jan looked at me with a puzzled expression.

"How would you accomplish that?" she asked me.

"Oh, you'll just need to spend a day or two with Cherry," I answered. "She's a really fast learner."

"But your android doesn't look or even sound like me."

"She was designed as a 'recreational android', which means she can adapt her appearance and voice to satisfy her client's desires. She could easily mimic you. You'll have to do a memory share with her for it to be convincing which means she'll know _everything_ you know. Are you okay with that?"

Jan looked thoughtfully for a long moment and then responded.

"Oh Elvis, why the 'eff not? I'm certainly not in love with my job or my life for that matter. I sometimes feel like I'm a queen being held prisoner in my own castle. I never wanted to be the CEO of an interplanetary supercorp – that was my father's idea."

"What did you . . . _do_ you want to be?" I asked her.

"I want to be free, Pete. Free like you. Free as a bird on old Earth."

"For real?"

"Yes."

"Then let's just do it. Let's get married and leave all this stupid stuff behind. There's a wedding kiosk over in the central mall where Elvis himself will perform the ceremony for a few bitcreds."

"You want us to get married by an Elvis impersonator?"

"Not necessarily. How do you want us to get married, Jan? Do you want a lavish formal ceremony with lots of guests on the who's who list?"

"No, absolutely not!" she said laughing. "I get it now. We don't have to live by the rules. We're _freetraders_ and we make our own rules."

"Well, sort of. But look, I don't suppose I could talk you into letting me lose?" I asked somewhat timidly. My wrists were still manacled to the headboard of her super-sized bed.

"Oh, I'll let something lose," she said as she removed my chastity sheath and crawled back on top of me. "You need to stay put a little while longer. We've got some other business to finish first."

CHAPTER 2

"I must confess that I am truly baffled," Lo Phat said as he gazed back and forth from one Jan Aradal to another. "They are identical in physical appearance, mannerisms, and speech."

"Without access to more sophisticated equipment or resorting to invasive measures, I am unable to discern which one is the real Jan," Tuesday said frowning as she scanned the pair with her 'face. "Cherry's nano effectively mimics Jan's biological signs."

The two Jans turned toward each other and, like mirror images, winked, and touch elbows. We were all standing in Lo's office at Phat & Phat Interplanetary Trading Company in Tunnel Town. Unlike Ali Kahn's cluttered office, Lo's was Spartan in furnishings and décor.

"I admit I can't tell them apart," I said. "Okay, which one of you is the real Jan?"

"I am!" they both said in unison and then simultaneously laughed in stereo.

"Alright, enough is enough," I said frustrated.

"You know, with all the brain power in this room I'm surprised that nobody noticed the one difference between us," Jan said as she held up her left hand to show the wedding ring I'd placed on it just two days earlier at the Little Vegas Wedding Chapel. Cherry's left hand displayed no such band.

Tuesday swore something in Mandarin under her breath, Lo did a face palm, and I shook my head in dismay.

"You are slipping, number one daughter," Lo scolded Tuesday. "Could it be that your infatuation with Mr. Hawker has compromised your powers of observation? That is not a good thing. Maybe I should reconsider my pending retirement."

"Now that I think of it, you were both holding your left hands so that we never got a good look at your wedding ring fingers," I said to Jan and Cherry.

"You didn't ask to see them either," Jan replied. "Anyway, that wasn't supposed to be the giveaway."

"That is true Father," Tuesday added. "The test was to identify the real Jan based on outward appearances supposedly being identical. Cherry could easily have placed a wedding ring on her finger to deceive us."

"I'd say that the test was a success," I said as I hugged Jan. Then I noticed her scent and it hit me.

"Cherry, come here for a second," I said. I smelled her.

"Jan, _really_?" I said to her.

"What are you talking about?" Lo asked puzzled. "Jan is wearing a wedding ring."

"No she isn't. I may not have a genetically enhanced sense of smell, but I know what my wife smells like," I explained.

"Although I believe it is unlikely that anyone would ever be in such close proximity to Cherry as Captain Pete was just now, I recommend that Cherry recalibrate her olfactory emitters to match Jan's natural body odor," said Tuesday.

"Got that?" I told Cherry.

"Yes Pete," she said as she handed Jan's wedding ring to me. I turned to Jan and placed it on her finger.

"This stays on you from now on, okay?" I said to her.

"Aye, aye, Captain," she replied as she winked and gave me a mock salute. With the burden of Aratek being lifted from her shoulder's, Jan's demeanor was noticeably changing from one that was typically cautious and calculating – expect for in the bedroom - to one that was much more spontaneous and playful.

"Who else is aware of your recent nuptials?" Lo asked us.

"Nobody. Even Elvis thinks that he married Peter Soñador to Emma Freebird."

"He didn't recognize her?"

"No, he didn't," Jan answered.

"There are trillions of people living in the Sol System, and millions with very similar or even identical anatomical features that would easily cause them to be mistaken for someone else," Tuesday suggested. "Even with only a change in hair color, Jan's odds of ever being recognized are diminished to the point that only someone who was familiar with her would likely recognize her."

"John, Ellie, and Phineas have seen Jan up close," Lo said. "They will not be fooled."

"They don't have to be, they'll be in on it."

"We always kept our relationship private," Jan explained to Lo and Tuesday. "My personal security detail was both brain scanned and telepathically screened for traits that might compromise their loyalty and confidentiality. They knew Pete spent time with me, but they minded their own business."

"As far as the tabloid media is concerned, the 'REAL Jack Parsec' married some spacer named Emma Freebird after a whirlwind romance," I added. "Jan spent enough time playing Captain Spitfire aboard _Revolution_ that she knows her way around a candle, so it's an easy cover story for her and she'll fit right in with our crew."

"Are you sure, Pete? What about John?"

"Oh, I believe he's gotten over the grudge he held against Spitfire. From what I've heard, Jan and he have traded spacer's stories over a few beers."

Jan gazed innocently upward at the ceiling and said nothing.

CHAPTER 3

"I still can't believe Pete got himself hitched and didn't invite us to the weddin'," John Tanner grumbled.

"Maybe they just wanted a private ceremony without a bunch of hoopla," his wife Ellie suggested.

"Yeah, but he could've at least told us himself. Instead we find out after he done tied the knot on the 'effin stream. He even married some gal we ain't never met, and that was after Jan Aradal already done proposed to him. He just ain't behavin' normal like if you ask me."

"I'm sure if she snagged him then she must be a fine woman. At least nobody had to point a gun at him to get him to the altar."

"Now that ain't fair, honey bunny. You know I've always loved you."

"You loved me so much that you stole my dowry and ran off for nine years."

"I didn't know you back then," John protested. "I didn't even know who you was. Pap and Ma just came to me one day and said I was getting' married. I was just a scared kid. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life diggin' through the ice, so I took the gold and used it to buy a ride. I didn't know the gold was your dowry, I thought it was Pap's diggins."

"You never told me any of this before."

"I ain't proud of what I did. If I'd met you first, I probably never would have left."

"Ah, that's sweet," said Ellie with a smile. "You know what you could do for me to make up for all those lonely years without you?"

"What?"

"You could give me a little bundle of joy."

"You want a baby?" John asked in shocked surprise.

"We've been married going on two years. Don't you think it's high time we started a family?"

"You want to raise a kid on a candle?"

"Not really, but I don't think I could ever coax you out of that pilot's seat."

"I dunno. Pete might not be too thrilled at the idea of _Orchid_ bein' a nursery," John replied and grew silent. Ellie took this as sign that he wasn't too thrilled about the idea of becoming a parent.

Then again, she didn't think it was probably a good time to tell him that there was already a loaf in the oven and he was going to be a father in about eight months.

"I'm worried about Cherry," Ellie said changing the subject. "She's been gone over two days now."

"Pete said she had somthin' called HAL 9000 syndrome and they's goin' to have to do some serious work on her to get her right. I figure the folks at Aratek will fix her up, so I ain't losin' any sleep."

"Look, somebody's coming," Ellie told John as she gazed out the viewport at the two pressure-suited figures approaching _Orchid_. "I'll bet it's Captain Pete and his new wife."

John didn't bother to look. He was still too upset at not being invited to his best friend's wedding.

CHAPTER 4

Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids

In fact it's cold as hell

And there's no one there to raise them if you did

_-Rocket Man_ by Elton John

* * *

"Hello, _Orchid_! Two to come aboard," I called to our candle over my pressure suit's radio as we approached the base of her landing gear.

"We'll lower the basket for you," Ellie replied.

"It's beautiful," said a woman's voice with a thick German accent. It was taking me awhile to get used to Jan's new voice. She was walking beside me holding my hand and gazing upward at _Orchid_ standing before us with her nose pointed skyward and the late afternoon sun reflecting off her sleek sides.

"I seem to recall a different reaction the first time you saw her," I replied jokingly.

"I guess I've developed an appreciation for antiques," she said.

"Ouch. I prefer 'classic' to 'antique'. C'mon, it's time the crew met the new you."

Jan and I made our way to the basket and rode it up to the open cargo bay hatch. A few minutes later we had exited the airlock and were removing our pressure suits.

"John, Ellie! I'd like you to meet my better-half and our newest crewmember, Emma," I announced as I finished shucking my suit. John's expression suggested to me that he wasn't exactly excited to see us. It also suggested to me that he didn't immediately recognize Jan with her hair colored blond and cut short.

"Hello!" Emma said as she hugged first Ellie and then John. "Peter has told me so much about you both and it is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"We'll, we're excited to meet you, too!" Ellie replied warmly. "Aren't we, John?"

"Yeah, nice to meet yah," was John's less than enthusiastic response.

An awkward silence followed before I finally broke the ice.

"Where's Phineas?" I asked.

"I'm coming Captain," the super ape replied as he entered the crew compartment. He stared at Emma for a moment, sniffed the air, and then smiled.

"Ms. Aradal! It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Thank you Phineas," she replied as she hugged the genetically enhanced gorilla. "I'm glad to see that you've fully recovered. You didn't look so well the last time I saw you."

"Huh?" said John as he stared perplexed at Emma. "But who . . ."

"Jan and I got married," I explained. "Only she's no longer Jan, she's Emma."

"Okay if you say so, but I'm thoroughly confused now."

"Jan Aradal couldn't abandon her responsibilities as CEO of Aratek to go roaming the void with me, so Cherry took her place."

"Is Cherry going to be alright being Jan?" Ellie asked worriedly.

"I think so. Cherry was excited about the idea of being the CEO of an interplanetary supercorp. She's all 'grown-up' now and this is a good gig for her."

"Ain't gonna work," John said frowning and shaking his head. "Cherry don't look nothin' like Jan."

"You forget that Cherry is a highly sophisticated 'recreational android'. She can adapt her appearance and voice to satisfy a client's particular preferences. Now she looks, moves, talks, and even smells like Jan Aradal.

"Okay, so now Cherry's Jan, and Jan is Emma?"

"You've got it John," Emma replied.

"So, what's with the funny accent?" John asked Emma.

"It's a precaution to prevent me from being recognized by voice print. I swallowed a little pill, and not only did my voice change but now I speak fluent German."

"But you still look like you except for the blond hair," Ellie observed.

"There are lots of men who look like Elvis, too. Anyway, it's not like Jan Aradal suddenly went missing again so nobody's going to be looking for her," I said.

"It is very important that nobody besides us know about her real identity," I continued. "That means from now on we all call her Emma. She's a spacer from the settlement on the asteroid Sigyn.

"Never heard of that one," said John.

"Neither has anyone else because we made it up. There are tens of thousands of undocumented settlements in the Asteroid Belt that aren't affiliated with the Commonwealth. Isn't that why they call it the 'Free Belt'?"

"Is that tattoo real," Ellie asked Emma.

"Yes. I got it to celebrate my liberation from corporate servitude and give some authenticity to my new identity as a spacer from the Free Belt," she said as she gestured to the tattoo on the right side of her neck. She touched it and it became animated, flapping its wings.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, it's beautiful, but what does it mean?" asked Ellie.

Emma looked at her puzzled for a moment, and then laughed.

"I'm sorry, I forgot that they don't have birds where you're from," she said. "It's the silhouette of a falcon in flight. They're flying creatures from old Earth. They have them in the aviary in Sagan City."

Suddenly the wall 'face in the galley came to life and displayed the Accustream News Service logo.

"Attention, this is an urgent bulletin," said a disembodied female voice. "All contact with Luna has been lost. The Space Guard reports that a large space fleet believed to have been launched from Earth is now in lunar orbit. This is all the information that we have at this time. We will pass along additional information as it becomes available."

CHAPTER 5

I felt a pit in my stomach when I heard the announcement. Apparently, the lucid vision I'd had of an invasion from Earth wasn't just inspired by Helen Bach's fearful account, but was in fact an actual depiction of future events that had somehow been telepathically implanted by her in my subconscious.

Either that or I just have a really good imagination.

Regardless, if the rest of my story was about to come true, then we were the Earther's next destination. I explained my concern to John, Ellie, and Emma.

"It may just be a coincidence," Emma suggested.

"It may be, but the news report said it was a large fleet. Why do you need a large fleet to take Luna? They don't have much in the way of orbital defenses."

"We don't know how large is large," replied Emma.

I thought back to my aborted _Out to the Void_ episode. _The largest space fleet ever assembled arrived in lunar orbit mere hours later._

If my (apparently telepathically inspired) vision was truly accurate, the Space Guard would be no match for the massive armada that would be headed our way.

I hoped I was wrong about Mars being their next target, but it turned out that I wasn't. Less than an hour after the Accustream bulletin, the galley's 'face glowed to life again. This time it displayed the flag of the long-dead United Nations, which had once governed Earth and its numerous far-flung colonies before the formation of the Commonwealth after the Interplanetary War.

"People of the Sol System," said an authoritarian sounding male voice that I instantly recognized from old recordings. "I bring you greetings from the Earth."

That voice belonged to Russ Schwätzer, the last President of the United Nations, who'd been dead over eighty years!

"Many years ago, a terrible and senseless war was fought that resulted in the loss of many billions of lives and the destruction of humanity's home. While a cowardly act of terrorism rendered the Earth's surface uninhabitable, it did not destroy all life. A few brave souls managed to survive, and thanks to the resourcefulness and tenacity of the human spirit, we were able to preserve our civilization and much of our ecology in vast caverns deep beneath the surface. Now we have returned to restore order and peace to the Sol System. The disorderly and unrestrained expansion prompted by lawless capitalist greed must end. We must spread the seed of life into the void like a planned garden rather than weeds randomly scattered by the wind."

"In other words, if he has his way we'll be out of business," I commented.

"People of Mars, your forefathers committed a barbaric act when they attempted to destroy the Earth, but we do not hold that against you," Schwätzer continued. "You are fellow humans and we wish for you to all be part of our grand and glorious destiny. In six days the largest and most powerful space fleet ever assembled will arrive in orbit above your world. Surrender and peacefully accept our occupation and no harm will come to you. Should you chose to resist, you will face total annihilation. Please make the right choice for all our sakes. Thank you."

The 'face went blank again. We all stood there in shocked silence for a few moments.

"He actually _told_ us they'd be here in six days? I guess he wants a Space Guard welcoming committee," Emma commented sarcastically.

"Maybe he wants the Space Guard here so that they can wipe them out and won't have to worry about being harassed by them later. Either that or he's lying about when they'll arrive."

"Might be a good time for a run out to Market," John abruptly suggested.

"It might not be a bad idea to lift regardless of where we go," I said. "By this time tomorrow Olympus Spaceport is going to be overrun by hoards of people trying to catch a ride off-planet. How much fuel have we got in the tank? Water is going to get real expensive around here fast."

"I just topped it off this mornin'," John answered.

"What about Mr. Lo and Tuesday?" Ellie asked. "And what about Cherry? We can't just leave them here!"

"Cherry is Jan Aradal now. She has clippers at her disposal," Emma replied.

"I'm 'facing Lo," I said. Fortunately, he answered promptly.

"Could you use a ride out of here?" I asked him.

"If you have room aboard for three, then yes, we could certainly use transportation."

"Sure thing," I said as I did some quick mental arithmetic. _Orchid_ had bunks in the crew compartment for ten, and with our current crew compliment three passengers put us at just two shy of capacity.

Suddenly John's 'face chimed. He looked at it and frowned.

"What do _you_ want?" he demanded.

"Hello to you too, Johnny," was the reply. John was standing close enough to me that I recognized Jason 'Kid' Marx' voice.

"I figured you probably wouldn't be sticking around here with the Earthers on the way, and I was hoping maybe Cat and me could catch a lift?" Jason asked.

" _Jason and Cat?"_ I thought to myself. Now, this was getting messy.

"Now, why the hell should I do that?" John asked.

"Well, as I recall ol' buddy, I did facilitate the recovery of your blushing bride after she was kidnapped. I figured that might be worth a ride off this dirt ball."

"Tell him yes," I said before John could respond.

"Pete, are you sure?"

'Yes, he did help us rescue Ellie and we have space for two more."

"Alright asshole," John replied gruffly. "You can tag along, but you better bring your own beer."

"I always pay my way, Johnny. Are sixty cases of Full Moon IPA enough for you?"

Just then my 'face chimed. It was Ali Kahn.

"Hello Captain Pete," Ali began cheerfully.

"Wait, let me guess. You need a ride off-planet, right?"

"Have you developed telepathic abilities?" he asked me after a brief pause.

"No, but you're not the first person who has asked for transportation," I answered, noting that having Ali as a passenger meant someone would be sleeping on the bridge.

"Yes, I could use a ride for myself and five of my girls," he replied.

I thought briefly before responding. Ali and his girls would put us at sixteen. When _Orchid_ had been commandeered by the escaping convicts from Penitence/Io she'd supposedly carried a lot more than that, but their trip had only been a short hop to neighboring Ganymede. I was concerned that sixteen aboard would tax both our life support system and our food supplies on a flight lasting more than a few days.

"You're welcome to come with us, but be prepared for less-than-normal conditions because all the bunks are full and your girls will be sleeping on cots in the cargo bay," I told him. "Oh, if you have any freefall ready food, bring it with you."

"I read you loud and clear, Pete. Thanks so much for the ride."

I did some more mental arithmetic, albeit very rough. Even with all those extra bodies on board, and Jason's beer, _Orchid_ shouldn't be overloaded and her thrust-to-weight ratio wouldn't be negatively affected. We'd still be able to lift-off normally and go wherever. If anything, we might be lifting-off on the lighter side considering some of the payloads we'd hauled in the past.

Lo and Tuesday were the first to arrive, followed by Ali and his girls. The close proximity of Tunnel Town to Olympus Spaceport made their commute short and easy. On the other hand, Jason and Cat still hadn't arrived almost three hours later and I was getting annoyed. Other candles had already lifted and I didn't want to be in a long hold from traffic control.

It was getting dark when I spotted a pair of headlights heading toward us. The truck turned as it got close and then backed up to our candle. A moment later John's 'face chimed.

"The party's here!" Jason announced. "How about giving us a hand getting the beer on board?"

"About time you showed up," John replied. "I'd make you load it yourself, but we need to lift before it gets too crazy out here."

"Hi, John!" said Cat in the background. "Thanks for giving us a lift."

"You're always welcome aboard, even if your boyfriend ain't."

We crowded everybody into the crew compartment so that we could depressurize the cargo bay and open the doors. I turned on the floodlights, and then John and I suited up and rode the basket down. Jason and Cat were already unloading the pressure-sealed cases of Full Moon IPA. It wasn't hard to carry several cases at a time[1], so the cargo basket filled up quickly. It still took multiple trips to get all the beer aboard, and then we had to secure it in the cargo bay. Jason drove the now empty truck away from _Orchid_ and parked it, then walked back. After he'd boarded we closed the doors and re-pressurized the bay.

"Alright, everybody listen up!" I announced while everyone was still in the crew compartment. "We've got sixteen people on board a candle that is intended to carry up to ten under normal circumstances. Obviously these aren't normal circumstances, so we're going to have to make do with limited resources for a few days."

"We've got plenty of beer," Jason interjected. The reaction to his comment was scattered laughter.

"That we do," I said, actually appreciating Jason's humor at an otherwise tense time. "Don't go drinking too much if you a weak bladder. We only have one toilet."

"We're heading out to Market," I continued. "It'll be a very long time before the Earthers find it, if they ever do. They may not make it to Mars if the Space Guard has its way."

I knew the chances of the Space Guard stopping the Earther fleet were slim, but I still clung to the hope that Schwätzer was bluffing. I was pretty sure that the Earther's tech wasn't as advanced as the Commonwealth's and we'd have an edge. I seriously doubted that they'd have anti-matter rocket motors or even clippers.

"How long are you planning on staying there?" Ali asked.

"I guess until they kick us out," I replied.

[1] Mars' gravitational pull is only 0.38 of Earth's gravity

CHAPTER 6

With E.T. Paull's _The Burning of Rome_ blaring over the candle's speakers as our launch music (it was Lo's idea), _Orchid_ lifted from Olympus Spaceport at 9:57 p.m. LMT[2]. Our flight plan had us on a long transfer orbit for the asteroid Pallas, but that was merely a convenient diversion. A minor course correction when we were a day out altered our heading so that our new destination was the small asteroid Parking Lot, which served as nearby Market's landing and reception area.

John, Ellie, Emma, and I all slept in the seats on the bridge, which freed up four bunks. Like the bunks the bridge seats are designed to protect the occupants against the acceleration of lift-off and are very comfortable, so sleeping was not a problem for us. Some of Ali's girls double-bunked, so nobody had to sleep in the cargo bay. We left the cargo bay pressurized though just so we'd all have more room.

Jason was not happy about sharing the crew compartment with Phineas. I was well aware of his prejudice against uplifts from our prior association, and his snide remarks about our mechanic caused me to confront him.

"If you don't like sharing air with Phineas then you can always suit up and walk to Parking Lot," I told him. "Otherwise, keep your comments to yourself. Got that?"

He glared at me for a moment and then replied. "Yes sir, Captain." I noted the resentment in his tone, but didn't say anything more. It wouldn't have done any good in his case. I was just thankful that we'd all be at Market soon and he and Cat could go their own way.

Despite the close quarters, none of our passengers recognized Emma as being Jan Aradal. Even perceptive Ali, who'd previously encountered her face-to-face when she was Spitfire, was fooled by her new persona. I briefly considered telling Cat who Emma was, but then decided against it. The fewer people who knew, the better.

Aside from the crowded conditions, our trip to Parking Lot was relatively uneventful with the exception of a toilet malfunction on our last day. Sixteen people on a candle without a working toilet is no trivial matter, but fortunately Cat and Phineas' combined mechanical expertise solved the problem before any of us became too desperate.

Cat was surprisingly friendly towards me, despite the bitter break-up we'd had. She shared beers with Emma, Jason, Ellie, Ali, and I while we streamed the news on the galley's wall 'face. The Space Guard had engaged the Earther fleet in transit to Mars and inflicted significant casualties.

But still they came.

Jason avoided us, preferring the company of Ali's girls. I found out from Ali why Jason was so familiar with them – they were 'his gals', _Orchid's_ old crew who, according to an earlier account of his, had supposedly gone mad from breathing the scent of the infamous 'horny flower' known as the Night Goddess and tried to gang-rape him.

Then I did a double take as I watched them all talking and laughing together over beers in the galley. One of Ali's girls looked like she could have been Jan Aradal's twin! I pointed her out to Emma.

"I was a designer baby," she quietly confided to me. "I wasn't a total custom job like Tuesday, though. My father picked me out of a catalog and added some smarts and other goodies, but that's all. The only other options were hair and eye color, and skin tone. I'm guessing that she must be the same model as me. I think it was called Warrior Princess."

"So you're telling me that your father, who was one of the wealthiest men in the Sol System, chose you out of a catalog?"

"Yes, but I thought you liked my looks," she said with a mock pout.

"You know I do. You're top of the line," I said as I hugged her while trying to do damage control. Emma was striking beautiful, intelligent, and strong. Who wouldn't have wanted her for a daughter?

I could also see where having a Jan Aradal look-alike in your brothel might be a real attraction.

I glanced back to the gathering and wondered if Jason's account of the event had been somewhat embellished. His 'gals' certainly weren't behaving in any way that suggested that they were desperate to sex with him now.

I asked Ali about it when he and I were alone in the galley later on.

"Jason told you _that_?" Ali asked and laughed.

"Yes, so it's not true?"

"I suppose there's a sliver of truth, Pete. There was a lot of sexing going on, and when you are sexing with multiple partners feelings can easily get hurt. There were lots of arguments and the crew became dysfunctional," Ali explained. "The real reason 'his gals' ended up in my brothel is Jason caught wind that the Space Guard had figured out _Orchid_ was the transport stolen from Penitence. At that point they were all flat broke and _Orchid_ wasn't going to lift from Olympus without repairs. I took in 'his gals' so they wouldn't be shipped back to Penitence and loaned Jason some money. Correction, I _gave_ him some money. He never actually paid me back."

"He did get you the Night Goddess."

"Yes, in exchange for my assistance in getting to Market. That was a different transaction."

"I figured out Jason a long time ago," continued Ali. "He's a con man and a scoundrel, but he's not totally self-serving. He cares about those close to him and will help others, but especially if he benefits in process."

"So what's the story on him and Cat?" I asked.

"He cares about her, but I don't think he's as serious about her as she is about him."

That sounded very familiar.

By now we were getting close to Parking Lot, having matched orbits with the asteroid. With the dark carbonaceous chondrite less than a hundred kilometers away, I began to communicate with Parking Lot's traffic control using the sequence of coded phrases that to an outsider sounded like a somewhat awkward exchange but otherwise contained nothing that would raise suspicion. Certain key words conveyed our V.I.P. status, insuring quick landing clearance and prompt shuttle service to Market.

I was shocked when a hold was put on our landing.

"That's highly unusual," Ali commented to me frowning. Considering that he's been to Market a lot more times than I have, I figured he should know.

"Do you think they cancelled our V.I.P. status?" I asked him.

"No, once you're a member of 'the club' you're a member for life unless you break the rules. Something else must be going on."

Landing clearance finally came twenty minutes later in the form of landing coordinates which were fed into _Orchid's_ autopilot. Our main engine briefly roared to life accompanied by short bursts from our maneuvering thrusters. We were now descending upon Parking Lot tail-first, although the gravitational pull was so weak here that it was almost like docking rather than dusting. Parking Lot was just big enough to have sufficient g that a candle wouldn't float away after you'd touched down.

As we neared the flattened side of the asteroid that served as the spaceport, I caught a glimpse out of the viewport that made me look twice.

"Look at that!" I exclaimed loudly, startling John.

"I ain't never seen it this 'effin crowded before," John swore as he looked down at the asteroid's surface. "There must be hundreds of 'em!"

Hundreds of tiny silvery needles poked upward from the asteroid's surface. During our two previous visits there had been a maybe a few dozen candles parked here, but nothing like this.

Our auto pilot sat us down on maneuvering thrusters only. We were so close to another candle that I probably would have been able to read it's name if it wasn't in deep shadow.

There was no courtesy bus waiting to take us to the underground depot, which housed the traffic control center, convenience store, 'dirty-sheets' hotel, and a restaurant. We had to wait almost half an hour for our ride to arrive, and when it did it was already half-full. Fortunately we were its last stop and were driven directly to the depot. Well, we had to weave around some parked candles to get there, but there weren't any other stops.

The depot usually wasn't crowded, being intended as just a way station for shuttle rides to Market. That wasn't the case with all the traffic arriving so close together. We were told that there would be about a two-hour wait for our shuttle, so we decided to risk the restaurant. Ali had once told me that its only patrons were clueless passers-through who weren't bound for Market, so it normally served food that was mediocre at best an un-edible at worst. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that with all the V.I.P. clientele waiting on shuttle rides, several chefs had come over from Market and were preparing meals worthy of a five-star restaurant. The filet de lapin with plankton soufflé was delicious!

Our shuttle finally arrived and we boarded it for our short hop to Market. It was typical of Market's passenger shuttles and featured first class accommodations, but no viewports. There was the usual panoramic display in the passenger cabin that was normally a continuous commercial for Market showcasing its many attractions, but today it streamed the news.

The situation on Mars was rapidly deteriorating. The Space Guard continued to inflict casualties on the Earther's fleet, but it hadn't been enough to stop them. It was hard to engage hundreds of candles spread out in a diffused three-dimensional formation over three thousand kilometers in circumference. They were approaching Phobos, obviously intent on taking it. Panic had set in and civil order was rapidly giving away to chaos. In major population centers such as Sagan City, Bradbury, and Wells, those who hadn't or couldn't evacuate were rioting and looting. The scenes from Bradbury showed a man in a disheveled dome security uniform running from door-to-door in the residential section attempting to warn anyone who still hadn't evacuated.

"They're coming!" he bawled, hammering with his fist at each door. "The Earthers are coming!"

Normally the mood on board an inbound Market shuttle fight was jovial, but due to the news stream content the atmosphere was sullen. I think everyone felt like we were watching the beginning of the demise of the Interplanetary Commonwealth.

Part of me felt guilty. We'd luckily had the resources to escape from Mars and find a safe hiding place. How many others hadn't? We would continue to live in comfort, free to come and go about as we pleased. They'd be living under the oppressive yoke of an authoritarian regime that, in the supposed best interests of humanity, would tell them how to live and control what they heard and saw, eat and drank, and ultimately, thought.

What would Jack Parsec have done in a situation like this? He wouldn't have run off and hidden. Or, would he have? Maybe he'd hide long enough to formulate a plan to defeat the Earthers and save the Sol System.

Sadly, I wasn't Jack Parsec.

[2] Local Mean Time is a measure of solar time that corrects the variations of local apparent time, creating a uniform time scale at a specific planetary longitude.

CHAPTER 7

"This 'effin sucks!" Jason loudly complained. He'd been drinking while we were waiting on our courtesy bus and on the shuttle ride over to market, and was obviously inebriated.

"They said there's a shortage of suites and they have to put groups in double occupancy," Cat explained to him.

"I'm not sharing a suite with an 'effin monkey," he slurred angrily.

"You won't have to share," Lo informed him calmly. "John Hawker, Tuesday, Phineas, and I will all share a suite together. At least I will enjoy pleasant company."

Jason didn't reply to Lo's jab and staggered into their suite, guided by Cat. She looked back at us with a frightened look before closing the door.

We all stood there silently for a few moments.

"Is anyone up for a game of poker?" Ali finally asked.

"Be careful who you invite to the table," Lo replied smiling broadly.

"You're most welcome to join me at your own risk," Ali responded to him with a sly grin.

"I'm always up for a good game of cards," John chimed in.

"Me too!" said Ellie. "I used to always get my brothers naked first when we played strip-if-you-lose."

"You all truly do not know whom you face," countered Lo.

"No they don't father, but neither do you," Tuesday replied grinning.

"Enough of this trash-talk," Ali said. "There's a casino downstairs with empty tables. Let's claim one and settle this once and for all!"

"Come, John, I'll teach you how to play," Tuesday told John Hawker.

"Uh, I know how to play poker," John answered.

"No, my sweet love, you only believe that you do," Tuesday told him as she gently clasped his hand and pulled him after her down the hallway.

Emma started to tag along, but then paused when she noticed that I wasn't following them.

"Aren't you coming too, Pete?" she asked me, somewhat puzzled.

"I've never been a huge fan of games of chance," I replied. "I was raised by my mother, who was a mathematician. She believed in probabilities which could be quantified, not luck. Anyway, I'm really lousy at poker and would rather have a potent frothy one right now considering recent events."

"Then I'll join you. I'm always up for a good beer when the time is right, and I'd say that anytime with you is the right time."

"Thanks. We passed a bar on the way in that kind of reminds me of the Black Hole."

Just then the door to Jason and Cat's suite opened and Cat hurried out into the hall. Jason was swearing loudly, but I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"I'll come back when you 'effin sober up, asshole!" she yelled at him and slammed the door. She turned to us with a look of embarrassment on her face.

"I'm sorry about that," she told us.

"Why are _you_ sorry?" Emma asked. "He's the one behaving like an asshole."

"He doesn't mean to be that way. It's just that he hasn't been himself since the 'cast was cancelled."

"I didn't know _Kid the Bounty Hunter_ was cancelled," I said to Emma. Resurrecting Jason's defunct 'cast and getting it back on the major streams was one of the conditions we'd negotiated with Jan Aradal in exchange for her ride back to Mars and our silence regarding her ill-fated involvement with Pluto's Children.

"I heard a rumor somewhere that it was cancelled because Jason wasn't showing up for work," Emma replied. "I guess it would be hard to produce a 'cast without its lead actor."

"It's not a rumor," said Cat tearfully. "At first he'd just drink a little too much the night before and be too hung over so he'd call in sick. Then it got worse and now he's drunk more than he's sober."

"An alcohol addiction is easy to cure," I said. "You swallow a little pill before bedtime and wake up the next morning with an aversion to the stuff."

"I've told him that, but he won't do it. He says it's his escape from his old demons."

I knew all about avoiding the pill. You could cure the addiction, but if you didn't fix what caused it in the first place then the odds were that you'd look for another way to escape. I was just lucky that my other 'fix' was _Orchid_ and that I only drank an occasional beer or two when we were in the void. Dirtside was another matter.

"We were just headed down to the coffee bar," Emma told Cat. "Would you like to join us? I hear that they have some wonderful blends."

Cat hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Are you sure? I don't want to be a third wheel or a charity case."

"We wouldn't invite you if we didn't want you to join us," I said. "C'mon."

Cat looked back at the closed door to her and Jason's suite.

"Sure, why not," she replied to us. "I could use some company that's not blaming all of his problems on everything and everybody but himself tonight. He'll be passed out when I get back if he isn't already."

Okay, so now we were going to the coffee bar. I supposed my potent frothy one would have to wait until later on.

The coffee bar was located on our hotel's first floor next to the lobby and was named 'Brews and Chews'. I guess the 'Chews' part referred to the pastries and kolaches that they served. The bar was packed today, or tonight depending on what LMT you arrived, but we managed to score a table. Despite the crowd, there wasn't much in the way of conversation happening. Most of the patrons were silently watching one of the large wall 'faces which were all streaming the news.

To say the news wasn't good was an understatement. The Earthers had made it into Mars orbit with almost two-thirds of their fleet intact. Images of the Earther's fleet showed giant candles with multiple rocket motors and huge radiators. They reminded me a lot of candles from the Interplanetary War.

Schwätzer had given the Space Guard an ultimatum: cease their attacks on the Earther's fleet or they would retaliate with planetary bombardment. I thought it was probably just a bluff since the Earthers presumably wanted the cities intact, but the Guard didn't want to risk the possibility of the threat being real and was heading out to the Belt.

Mars belonged to the Earthers.

There was a lot of speculation by the news stream commentators and their guest 'experts' about what the Earthers would do next. There was also a lot of disagreement. One view was that they would probably leave the bulk of their fleet in Mars orbit and send an expeditionary force out to claim Ceres and possibly Vesta or Pallas. Securing the Belt itself was an unrealistic fantasy since there were millions of asteroids over a few kilometers in diameter spread out over billions of kilometers. There was no way you could ever 'secure' all that. There were well over a trillion people in the outer Sol System who couldn't be enslaved simply because there were too many and they were too spread out.

Eventually, the Earthers might attempt to establish a presence in the Jovian and Saturnian satellites since there were habitable moons with significant populations, but to what purpose? In the outer void their candles would be vulnerable to hit-and-run attacks from the Space Guard, which in time would utilize the vast resources of the outer Sol System to build-up its forces until the Earthers were at both a numerical as well as a technological disadvantage.

Unfortunately, with Luna and Mars now under their control, the Earthers wouldn't be behind the technological curve for too long. That concern probably prompted the Commonwealth to destroy the orbiting anti-matter production facility with its giant array of gamma ray lasers rather than risk it falling into the Earthers' hands. Hopefully, the Space Guard had stashed away enough of the pricey stuff to keep their handful of super-high delta-v anti-matter powered candles flying through the void for awhile since they were our biggest edge against the Earther fleet.

There was another opinion expressed that, at least for now, they only wanted Mars. They'd taken Luna out of necessity, but what they really wanted were _other_ Earths. They wanted worlds with significant g and a breathable atmosphere. Venus would be their best bet g-wise, but even after over a century of terraforming efforts it was nowhere even close to being habitable. Titan and Penitence/Io both had habitable ecospheres, but their lower g made them less desirable. Without normal gravity or counteractive mods, adaptive change would eventually cause humans to grow into tall, spindly beings. Without normal sunlight, their skin would grow paler and their eyes larger.

The Earthers feared that over time humans in non-terrestrial environments would evolve into another species. A species that not only ceased to resemble what they considered human but didn't think like humans or retain human values. That's what they really feared. In that context Schwätzer's 'weeds randomly scattered by the wind' weren't far-flung colonies, but the colonists themselves.

Mars was the Earthers' best hope at having a new home world that would be at least close to their destroyed planet once terraforming had sufficiently progressed. In all likelihood they'd intensify terraforming efforts now that they were in control.

I wondered what Greenslayer would have to say about that!

The news stream had degenerated into commentary, speculation, opinion, and more of the same. Nobody really knew what the Earthers were going to do next, but talking about what they might do seemed to make for good editorial content. Emma and Cat were chatting amongst themselves and ignoring the commentary. I was still listening to the stream and sipping my small 'Evening Roast Decaf', but I really, _really_ wanted a beer.

CHAPTER 8

No one would have believed, eighty years after the Interplanetary War, that Mars was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences certainly no greater than our own yet fueled by an insatiable determination for retribution; that as we busied ourselves about our various concerns we were being scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a researcher with a nanoscope might scrutinize the subatomic particles of an atom. With infinite complacency humans went to and fro over our ruddy globe about our routine affairs. No one gave a thought to the devastated Earth as a source of danger or thought of it only to dismiss the idea of life upon it as impossible or improbable. A few speculated there might still be some form of microbial life left on Earth. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are equivalent to our minds yet cold and calculating and fueled by a thirst for revenge, regarded our red planet with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. – Julia Wells-Hogarth, Our War of the Worlds

* * *

We'd been at Market just a few days passed two months when we got the 'eviction notice'. It wasn't as if we hadn't been paying our bills, either. Jan (when she was still Jan) had deposited ample bitcreds into Emma's account and we could have all stayed on Market almost indefinitely, but that wasn't the problem.

When it came to food, water, and breathable air, Market was normally self-sustaining. It had ample minifacs to produce mechanical and electrical components using materials mined from either Market's shell or other nearby asteroids, thus limiting the arrival of imported goods. Self-sufficiency was a necessity to keep its secret existence and location hidden from the rest of the Sol System. The sudden surge in occupancy resulting by the Earthers' invasion had quadrupled Market's population within the space of a few weeks and then some. This had overtaxed Market's resources, which unfortunately meant some would have to leave.

The non-V.I.P. members were the first to be politely asked to leave. As compensation, their candles' fuel tanks were topped-off and they received a generous voucher that they could use on their next visit once the crisis had passed. That turned out to be not enough to relieve the strain, since the vast majority of early arrivals were V.I.P.s and included us because we'd saved Market from Pluto's Children. We were in the company of prominent politicians, oligarchs, and media celebrities.

Market's Board of Directors decided upon a daily lottery as a solution. If you got picked, you had to either leave or pay an 'exclusion fee' to stay that was astronomically high. Bitcreds didn't mean much when there wasn't enough oxygen to go around. We were the losers on the third drawing. Emma could have paid the exclusion fee, but it would have drained her account and I'd already decided that it was time for us to go. John and Ellie weren't exactly speaking to each other after John found out she was pregnant and hadn't told him. There was constant drama and frequent fights as far as Jason and Cat were concerned. Ali had carved himself a niche in Market's economy and opened a bar that he dubbed the Slippery Hole which he modeled after his Martian establishments, and he and his girls were now officially permanent residents. Ali seemed to be doing very well for himself, because he'd moved into a furnished luxury apartment and had purchased his own private shuttle. Okay, it was 'used' (something of an understatement), and Phineas had to help him make some repairs before it was spaceworthy again. Ali told me he wanted to use it as a 'party barge'.

I wondered what sort of parties he intended to throw and if they involved horny orchids.

I've found that the void can magically solve a lot of problems, so John, Ellie, Lo, Tuesday, John Hawker, Phineas, Emma, and I all boarded a courtesy shuttle back to Parking Lot. I had a destination in mind that the Earthers were unlikely to visit anytime soon where we'd be welcomed: the Jovian moon formerly known as Penitence, but now officially rebranded as 'Io, Forbidden Moon of the Zombies'. I felt we'd be safe going there and staying awhile. Based on various analyses and, more informed than usual commentary from the news stream, the Earthers hadn't any plans to venture beyond Mars for the time being. They'd landed the bulk of their fleet on Mars to both refuel and serve as an occupational force and only left their dreadnaughts, their largest candles which had been capable of Earth launch but not of dusting afterward, in orbit as sentries. Even if they eventually did decide to show up, they'd be met by a welcoming committee composed of lethal slug-thrower armed farmers and ranchers, flesh-eating zombies, blood-sucking vampires, fierce jackalopes, venomous leopard spiders, and giant meat-eating chihuahuas. I doubted it was sort of place they'd want to try to occupy anytime in the foreseeable future.

So, with a full tank of fuel and a voucher that we could use on our next visit to Market, we lifted from Parking Lot and vectored toward distant Io. I 'faced Njord Jensen, owner of Watership Down, the big rabbit ranch named after the novel of the same name by Richard Adams, to let him know that we were on our way. Njord 'faced me back about an hour later telling me that he'd roll out the red carpet for us and also to let me know that Watership Down now had its very own spaceport, although it was just a bare stretch of ground with a perimeter fence and a homing beacon for now. If we needed to refuel then we'd have to siphon water out of Squeaky's pond, and we'd better not take too much or we'd incur her wrath since that was her and husband Dick's swimmin' hole. Still, dusting there would save us a wait on a VTOL[3] ride from Zombie City (formerly known as Lastima).

My main concern at this point was that the Earthers might have sent commerce raiders out to attempt to disrupt commercial traffic in the outer Sol System. Since commercial space vessels were unarmed, the raiders were typically lightly armed corvettes and packets with the later being transports equipped with a laser and mines. Although the odds of encountering another candle by accident in the void were literally astronomical, Aratek had supplied us with a dummy mine before we left Mars that could be manually launched from our cargo bay as a deterrent against interception. A real mine was basically a bundle of twenty small homing missiles that you launched by accelerating toward your intended target and then released. The missiles were programmed to take up a combat formation and home-in on any object that got close to them. Only the Space Guard (and pirates) carried them, and if the Guard caught you with one you were guaranteed a one-way ticket to a prison camp on Io. Our dummy looked and behaved like the real thing, but its 'missiles' were harmless.

As I'd hoped, the void worked its magic on John and Ellie. They kissed and made up, and John began to excitedly plan how he was going to raise his new son.

Ellie didn't have the heart to tell him that his son was actually a daughter.

[3] An aircraft capable of vertical take-off and landing.

CHAPTER 9

Cat felt Jason's hands tighten around her throat, choking off her windpipe. She was sure that in his blind, drunken rage he intended to kill her this time. He was bigger and stronger than her and she couldn't break his vise-like grip. She knew that she would lose consciousness in a few moments and it would all be over, so she used the defensive move that Tuesday had once taught her. It caught him by surprise and he went flying backwards in Market's one-sixth g, slamming into the opposite wall.

Jason got up slowly and stared at her with a look of blind rage on his face. In those few moments Cat managed to catch her breath and draw her small vibroblade.

"I _will_ use this!" she shouted at him as she brandished the blade.

Jason howled and lunged at her. Cat slashed at him, catching him in the neck and severing his aorta. Blood exploded from his neck in a geyser that formed a red cloud in the low g. He slowly collapsed on the floor of their suite, his blood continuing to jet out in weakening pulses. He lay still.

Cat stood over him for several minutes frozen in shock. She'd just killed him. What should she do?

There was a loud knock at their door.

"This is hotel security. Is everything alright?"

The neighbors must have heard their altercation and reported it.

Cat moved slowly toward the door, leaving her bloody bare footprints on the tile floor. She opened the door with her left hand, still covered in blood, grasping the vibroblade in her right hand.

What happened after that was all a blur. There was shouting. The vibroblade was wrenched from her hand and she was shoved forward onto the floor face down and handcuffed. Then they took her away.

Anarchocapitalistic Market had no elaborate system of courts. The laws here were simple. No weapons were allowed. No fighting. No killing. Break a law and you were out. Cat had broken three. The problem was that her ride had already left. She was stranded here.

Fortunately for Cat, Market didn't space you if you didn't have a ride. That would be uncivilized.

Once again faced with a new situation for which there was no established policy, Market's Board of Directors decided to put Cat up for auction. They stripped her and washed off the blood, then put her in a three-d scanner and recorded her image. They interviewed her. They asked her questions about when and where she was born, her education, her occupation, etc. They had a truth meter, so she didn't see any point in lying since false answers might lead to more invasive forms of questioning. They were pleased that she was not just a young, attractive female, but also a candle mechanic. Between her looks and valuable skill set, they were confident that some hetro male spacer who had just won the eviction lottery would buy her and she'd be gone. Problem solved.

Cat's sale was held on Faces on 'Faces, Market's virtual slave auction. Ads were streamed in advance announcing the auction and indicating that there was no starting bid, but bidding was restricted to visitors only. They didn't care if they made anything off the sale, they just wanted her gone.

The auction drew a lot of bidders and the bidding went unexpectedly higher and higher until there were only two bidders. Finally, one gave up and Cat was officially 'property'.

"Your new owner will be here to collect you soon," the security guard told Cat as she sat alone in her detention cell. "You can say good-bye to Market forever because you'll never be allowed back."

"Works for me," Cat replied. "I wouldn't want to ever come back to a place that punishes people for killing in self-defense and then sells them into slavery."

"I feel sorry for you, but I didn't make the rules," the guard responded. "Anyway, it may not be so bad. At least you'll be back on a candle. That's what you like, isn't it?

" _Yes I suppose it is,"_ she thought to herself.

"Your owner is here to pick you up," the guard informed her, having received the notification over her earpiece. I'll escort you to the reception area."

"Like _this_?" Cat said in astonishment. She was still nude.

The guard walked away and returned a minute later.

"Here," she said as she tossed Cat a short paper robe. "That will hide your privates."

Cat donned the robe and then the guard escorted her down the hall to the reception area.

A man in a business suit was having a conversation with another man with close-cropped hair wearing a tan spacer's jumpsuit.

"There's your prize," the man in the suit told the spacer as Cat and the guard entered the room.

"Thank you," he said. "We'll be departing shortly, but I have a brief errand to run first. May she accompany me?"

"I don't see why not as long as you're taking her with you," the suit replied.

"Come with me," he instructed Cat. His voice was at once smooth and commanding.

"Whatever you say boss," she answered. She noticed that the spacer's jumpsuit was devoid of corporate logos. An independent, she hoped.

A tram took them through the forested park and garden area. They disembarked at a palatial estate in the garden district on the outskirts of the commercial area.

The spacer escorted Cat to an ornately barred gate. Their approach must have been monitored because the gate swung open as they reached it. They walked passed a lushly landscaped yard along a winding, stone paved path and then up the steps leading to the imposing mansion's front doors. An incredibly tall, brown-skinned woman with long black hair with copper highlights wearing a metallic copper-colored bodysuit was waiting for them on the wide front porch.

"Welcome Captain Sturgis!" she greeted him joyfully. "I see that your mission was successful."

"Here's your merchandise Madame Dommé," Sturgis said as he urged Cat forward. "I think you owe me something."

"Do you have to be in such a hurry?" she said sounding disappointed. "Couldn't you at least stay for a drink? I have some excellent ale from the trappist Monastery of St. Jerry Lee the Killer on Olympus Mons.

"They're expecting me on a shuttle to Parking Lot with another crewmember. Now, where is she?" he demanded.

"You really know how to ruin a nice evening," she replied disappointedly. "What the 'eff, take her and leave."

Madame Dommé gestured to a bronzed, muscular man wearing metallic copper shorts who'd been standing just inside the open front doors in the foyer.

"Art, go fetch Ms. Sturgis," she ordered.

Art left the foyer and returned a few minutes later escorting a brown-skinned girl with dark hair who looked remarkably like Cat.

"What did you do to her?" Sturgis asked angrily.

"It's just dye. It will wear off. She has to look like your prize to board the shuttle, doesn't she?"

Sturgis and the girl hugged and then started to leave.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Madame Dommé asked.

Sturgis gave her a puzzled look.

"They need to trade robes," she said pointing to Cat and Sturgis' companion.

Cat and the other girl hesitated for a moment, and then they shucked and traded their robes. Cat noted that the copper-hued robe she was handed was a bit shorter than the paper one she'd been given at the detention center, but not as flimsy.

Sturgis and the other girl departed, leaving Cat with Madame Dommé.

"Come inside," she ordered.

Cat complied and followed her host inside the villa. The site that greeted her eyes was almost unbelievable and reminded her of pictures she'd seen of some fabulous monarch's palace on old Earth. They walked passed tall columns into a grand sitting room with ornate furnishings.

"I suppose you're wondering about our little charade," Madame Dommé said to Cat.

"Not really, but I suppose you're going to tell me anyway."

"It was necessary given the bidding restriction. I learned that Sturgis won the eviction lottery, so I supplied him with all the bitcreds he needed to win the auction and arranged for his wife to be my 'guest' until he returned with you."

"What do you want with me?" Cat asked.

"I have plans for you, but that's all you need to know for now. I imagine you're hungry. Would you care for something to eat?"

"No thanks. I'm just tired."

"I'm not surprised considering what you've been through recently. I'll have Art show you to your room."

Cat followed Art down a hallway, up two flights of stairs, and down another hallway. He opened a door and ushered Cat into a room, then closed it behind her.

Cat looked around at her surroundings. Her room was actually a high-ceilinged suite with a living area, bedroom, and bath. The décor and furnishings looked expensive.

On a hunch she tried the door. She was locked in. How did that old saying go? _She was a prisoner in a gilded cage._

CHAPTER 10

We had just dusted on Io at Watership Down when I got the call from Ali.

"It's Cat," he explained. "She got herself in trouble and they sold her at auction to get rid of her."

"They _sold_ her? Where is she now?" I demanded.

There was a many minutes-long delay in Ali's response due to light-lag. Finally the response came.

"I don't know. The auction was restricted to 'visitors only' because they wanted her off Market. I bid on her as your proxy, but I was out-bid."

"Thanks for trying, Ali. Where was Jason during all this? Passed out drunk as usual?"

Another agonizingly long delay followed.

"Try dead. My contact at Market Security told me that he tried to kill Cat and she killed him in self-defense by knifing him in the throat."

"Elvis! They put her up for auction even though it was self-defense? What the eff?"

(Yet another frustratingly long delay happens here.)

"You know how Market works, Pete. You break the rules and you're out. She had no ride, so this was their solution."

"Do you know who bought her?"

(Uh, delay, delay, delay . . .)

"No, but I'm working on it. Slave auctions are confidential, but if you can discretely lubricate the right palm then rumors can happen. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Okay, thanks. Let us know as soon as you know anything."

I played back my conversation with Ali on my 'face with the long pauses deleted for the rest of the crew.

"Poor Cat!" was Ellie's reply as she burst into sobs.

The reactions from the other crew mostly amounted to stunned silence. John surprised me.

"I can't believe Jason's dead," he said, his voice cracking. "I knowed I done held a grudge against him even after he helped us rescue Ellie. I knows I shouldn't have. He weren't a bad man, he was just somebody who needed somebody to be there for him and I weren't when he needed it the most. He always looked after me when we was partners, and I done let him down."

Tears were rolling down John's cheeks. Ellie grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

"It's okay John," I said patting him on the shoulder. "He had his demons and they finally got the best of him. Now he isn't suffering any longer. We need to try to find a way help Cat now so we don't lose her as well."

"If Cat was sold to a visitor, then she could be headed anywhere by now," John Hawker suggested.

"Not necessarily future number-one son-in-law," Lo said. "We can rule out Mars, Earth and Venus."

"That just leaves the entire Belt, the outer moons, and the maybe whole 'effing Oort Cloud," I replied sarcastically.

"The Oort Cloud is an unlikely destination, Pete. Too distant for a Market customer who would allow their self to be evicted," Lo responded. "Additional information regarding the purchaser's identity will help us to refine our search. I recall that we experienced a similar situation when Ms. Ellie was abducted."

"We got lucky."

"Perhaps we shall again."

CHAPTER 11

The lock on her door was easy to breach. Her mother taught her how to do it when she was seven years old, but that wasn't the best way out. The mansion likely had concealed multi-spectral security cameras that were continuously monitored, just like the art museum in Sagan City that she and her mother had attempted to rob when Cat was fifteen. You didn't make the same mistake twice and expect to get lucky both times.

Cat required a discreet way out, or a diversion, or both. Her room had sensors to detect a fire, but those would have to be activated when she was already gone. Her room also had the right materials which, when properly combined, would provide her means of escape. Her genius-level I.Q. combined with her extensive home-schooled knowledge of chemistry, electronics, physics, and on-the-fly mechanical engineering had made her a natural for a becoming an ace candle mechanic thanks to her father's tutoring after her mother's incarceration. Now she needed to rely on long-unused, but certainly not forgotten, skills to escape.

A power failure wouldn't provide total darkness to conceal her departure because there wasn't day or night on Market, only perpetual twilight. She needed something that would keep her captors searching inside when she was already outside. A fire alarm would have them searching inside while a power failure would kill the mansion's external lighting and sensors, and make her escape less noticeable. She could arrange both. A jump from her third-story window in Market's one-sixth gravity wouldn't be difficult. She could escape and worry about how to avoid recapture later. That would just be a matter of concealment and the right disguise. She'd done that before on the fateful night in Sagan City when her mother had been apprehended, but Cat had managed to escape.

She could make it work, and did.

Well almost.

She hadn't counted on Madame Dommé anticipating her escape attempt and strategically stationing stealthsuited guards equipped with enhanced low-light vision and stunners to intercept her. The blast hit her as she was sprinting toward the end of the long walkway, and she lost consciousness and tumbled forward, luckily landing in the soft lawn.

Cat awoke back in her bed. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep.

She noticed the thick, shinny copper bracelets on her ankles. They'd apparently been installed while she was unconsciousness. They weren't so snug that she couldn't spin them around her ankles, but she couldn't slide them off, either. A close examination failed to discover a hinge or other indication of how they might have been fastened on her, but did reveal some words engraved on the bracelets:

Property of Madame Dommé

Cat was so fixated on her ankle bracelets that she hadn't noticed what else had been done to her while she was out cold. Then the unfamiliar strands of hair dangling from her scalp finally got her attention.

She bolted out of bed and ran to the full length mirror that was hung on the wall. Her hair was no longer jet black, but metallic copper colored.

She noticed her eyes next. Those weren't her eyes staring back at her. Her eyes were brown. These had a copper color. At first she thought it was a trick of the room's lighting, but close examination revealed that it wasn't. Even her skin seemed a shade lighter.

The reflection of a statuesque woman standing behind her caught her attention and she whirled around to face Madame Dommé.

"What the 'eff did you do to me?" Cat demanded.

"What gratitude! I thought that you be pleased that you could walk the streets of Market again without being instantly recognized as a known outcast," Madame Dommé replied. "We used morphocromatics to alter your hair color and skin tone. The eyes required some nano since we altered your retinal patterns as well. Oh, we also made you two centimeters taller."

"Why? Why did buy me if you were just going to change me?"

"Put your robe on and come downstairs. Or you can come as you are. You are certainly beautiful nude. Either way, I'd rather discuss this over breakfast. Chef Steven has prepared his famous beer waffles and he'll be disappointed if you don't partake."

Cat blushed and fetched her robe, then followed Madame Dommé downstairs to the dining room. Make that the breakfast room. The palatial villa had rooms for every meal, plus a snack room and banquet hall. The breakfast room was rustic and had a warm, cozy feeling. Madame Dommé directed her to a chair at a round wooden table and then sat across from her. The beer waffles were served moments later.

The waffles were delicious! Cat didn't realize how hungry she was and devoured two of them, spilling sticky authentic maple syrup from Market's Terrestrium on her robe in the process.

"You may have more," Madame Dommé told her. "It has been over three weeks since you've had any solid food. Your modifications did take some time."

Cat had another beer waffle.

"When I first learned about your auction I was puzzled," Madame Dommé continued having finished her last bite. "Why announce an auction well in advance if bidding is restricted to only visitors and there is no starting bid? That was highly irregular and it piqued my interest, so I decided to do some research to find out what was so special about you. Solnet is a wonderful resource and especially if you have access to records not readily available to the general populace. I queried your stats and learned that there were sixty-four baby girls born on Mars in Sagan City on your birth date, but only four were of mixed French-North African ancestry. One was named Catherine Mandeux. Her father was a candle mechanic like you, but her mother was rather famous. She was a master thief whose exploits earned her the nickname, 'Black Cat'. On her final heist, the one on which she was finally captured her accomplice was her teen-aged daughter, 'Black Kitten'. The mother was apprehended, but the daughter mysteriously vanished and hasn't been seen since. Well, that is until now."

Cat stiffened. She'd hidden her past for years, but now in one frightening moment it had finally caught up with her.

"I think you're mistaken," she stammered.

"Oh no, I'm not. I admit that I wasn't completely sure until you passed my test. I didn't make it easy for you to get out of that room or even leave the house, but you managed that all exceedingly well. You weren't supposed to be able to escape, but you almost made it out of the gate before my stealthsuits finally stopped you. I was very impressed."

"What do you want with me?" she asked hesitantly.

"I need your help, Catherine."

"You need _my_ help? Why the 'eff should I help you when you made me your slave!"

"Hear me out. I know where your mother is incarcerated and I'll help free her and reunite you with her if you'll help me settle a score."

Cat hesitated for a moment.

"I already know where my mother is. She's in a prison camp on Penitence. Make that Io, now. You can't help her. Nobody can."

"Trust me, I can. I have connections that can make her release happen, and some of them are here on Market hoping to avoid the eviction lottery. I can influence that outcome as well."

"What is it that you need me to do?" Cat asked after a very long pause.

"I need you to help me acquire a certain ex-pirate who caused me much discomfort and embarrassment. She imprisoned me in my own home and I was incapacitated for many days while my business suffered."

"Who was it?"

"She called herself Spitfire, but it turned out that was only an alias. I believe you participated in her so-called rescue from the Pluto's Children pirate gang which she in fact organized. You know who I'm talking about, don't you? Her real name is Jan Aradal."

Cat felt her as though she was going to throw-up. This couldn't really be happening!

"What if I won't?" she said after another long pause.

"Oh, I think you will. I'll give you time to decide. Until then you'll be my 'guest'. Now, if you've finished eating there's something I'd like to show you."

Cat got up and followed Madame Dommé out of the breakfast room through another hall and down a flight of steps.

"That's the laundry room, she said as they entered the basement level. "Leave your robe there and they'll clean it for you. I'll furnish more suitable attire when we go back upstairs."

Cat looked around and then discarded her robe. There didn't seem to be anyone else around and Madame Dommé had already seen her naked anyway.

They walked down and through an open doorway into another section of the basement.

"I call this section my dungeon," Madame Dommé informed her. "I host my play parties down here."

"Play parties?" Cat asked warily. What had she gotten herself into now?

"As you can see, each play room has a different theme and furnishings to match. There's Medieval, Spanish Inquisition, Arabian Nights, Marquis de Sade, Hentai, and such. There's also a virtual reality room when you can design your own setting. My guests come here to let go of their inhibitions and embrace their dark fantasies in a controlled, safe setting."

"I don't get it," Cat said.

"Never mind," Madame Dommé replied with obvious frustration as they approached a closed door at the end of the dungeon.

"Open Sesame," she spoke. The door slid silently open.

"This section is my private dungeon," Madame Dommé said as she strode inside the lonely corridor. "It is reserved for my very special guests – those who have failed or inconvenienced me."

Cat felt a chill run down her spine. The rooms that they passed reminded her of her detention cell on Market. They were all empty, except for the last one near the end of the hall.

"This is Amal," Madame Dommé explained as she pointed to a nude, dark complexioned man who appeared to be tall and slender of build. He was seated on his bed with his back turned toward his cell door and appeared to be massaging his crotch while moaning and occasionally whimpering.

"He used to work for me," Madame Dommé continued as they stood in front of the barred cell door. "His failure to recognize a slave's escape potential cost me a hefty hospital bill and the loss of a valued client. To add insult to injury, he proved to be utterly useless when Pluto's Children invaded my home. He's not trained as a fighter, so I eventually forgave him for his cowardice. Two months ago he 'effed up a third time and enough was enough. His negligence resulted in the loss of an entire shipment, and all because he was more interested in sexing with my merchandise than doing his job. Isn't that _right_ Amal?"

Amal merely whimpered and continued doing whatever he was doing.

"What is he doing?" Cat asked.

"He is attempting to obtain sexual relief by abusing himself, but his attempts only add to his frustration. As punishment I had him conditioned to always be sexually aroused but unable to obtain satisfaction."

"You see, Catherine, disappointing me has serious consequences," Madame Dommé spoke slowly after a brief pause.

Cat wondered if that was a hint directed at her.

"How long are you going to keep him like this?" Cat asked.

"Oh, maybe I'll keep him for another week or so. He's a waste of food, water, and oxygen, so I'll probably just put him up for sale in the Toy Store. He'll make someone a nice sex-toy."

" _Everything is just merchandise to you,"_ Cat thought to herself.

"That concludes our little tour," Madame Dommé said as she turned and walked the short distance to another door at the end of the hall. "This is my private elevator. It'll take us straight up to my suite so that you won't have to parade through the house butt naked. I think I may have some clothing in my guest closet that will suitable for everyday wear."

Madame Dommé waved her hand in front of the elevator door and it silently opened. She stepped inside the car and Cat followed. There was a brief sensation of upward movement, and then the door opened again.

The suite was enormous and must have occupied half of an entire floor of the palatial estate. Cat had thought her own suite was large and expensively decorated, but this took things to another level. The vast space was lavishly decorated and featured statues and paintings from old Earth that must have been a thousand years old[4]. It was literally a palace within a palace.

"Help yourself to whatever you can find that fits," Madame Dommé told her as she flung open the doors to her voluminous guest closet. The interior lights came on to reveal rows and rows of men's, women's, and unisex clothing in different sizes and styles for various occasions.

Cat started to look through the racks, but started to feel disoriented after a minute.

"What's wrong?" Madame Dommé asked her.

"I feel dizzy all of a sudden," she said as she staggered forward and then stumbled, falling slowly onto the plush carpet in Market's Luna-like one-sixth g.

[4] The Sol System still utilizes an archaic terrestrial dating system based on Earth months and years. Nobody can agree on how long a 'universal standard' year or month should be because of the vast differences in Solar years depending on where you live, so the ancient Julian calendar is still used.

CHAPTER 12

"Ali has the buyer's name," I announced excitedly to my crew as I was putting down my 'face. We were all seated together with Njord, Squeaky, and Dick around the big dinner table at Watership Down's sprawling ranch house. A large wall 'face had slithered into the dining room and was streaming the latest (depressing) news about the situation Mars as we dined.

"Who is it, Cap'n Pete?" Squeaky asked. She no longer had the high, pre-pubescent voice that earned her the nickname, but still went by it.

"Quit feeding that damn thing from the table!" Njord scolded his daughter as she tossed another carrot out of the open window. The young jackalope[5] caught the carrot in mid air and devoured it. It was barely two meters tall at the tips of its long ears and its antlers had just started to sprout.

"Pa, he ain't botherin' anybody," replied Squeaky to her father. "We want him to be friendly around the guests, don't we?" They'll want to feed him, too."

"He's Nathan Sturgis, owner aboard and captain of the _Dumb Lucky Bastard_ ," I informed them.

"That there's sure an interestin' name for a candle." John commented.

"Like we're in a position to be critical? Our candle is named after an 'effin flower!" I replied.

"I don't suppose Ali was able to find out where they were headed after they left Parking Lot by any chance?" Ellie asked.

"No," I answered.

"If he filed a decoy flight plan before he diverted to Market, then he may have headed for his original destination," Emma suggested.

Emma had obviously done her homework, or maybe Jan's previous alter ego, Spitfire, had known about decoy flight plans. They allowed extra time for arrival at your destination by utilizing a longer transfer orbit with the supposed intent of conserving fuel. That way you could make your 'side trip' and still arrive more or less on schedule. We'd filed one when we'd lifted from Mars, but with the all chaos in the Sol System weren't too worried about anyone becoming concerned when we didn't arrive. The Space Guard was currently focused on containing the Earthers to Mars and not looking for missing candles.

"If we just knew where he was going, maybe we could intercept him," I suggested.

"Good luck with that," John replied and took a sip of his coffee. "He got him a head start and we're clear out here on Io. He might already be where he was goin' by now. Anyway, how'd we ever figure out where he was headed?"

"I _may_ know someone who has a connection at Guard that might be able to tell us where they went," Emma said winking at me.

Lo looked at Emma and grinned.

Later, when Emma and I were alone in our bedroom, I asked her how 'someone' may have a connection at the Space Guard.

"Do you remember how Aratek donated the AMX-1 to the Guard?" she replied. "We weren't just being generous. That was to insure their continuing lack of interest in prosecuting me."

"You we're supposedly _coerced_ into joining Pluto's Children, remember?"

"Yes, but they didn't know that I was actually Spitfire and calling the shots until recently. They thought I was just being held hostage."

"Only a few very high-ranking officers know, and I certainly don't need the rest of the Sol System finding out that Jan Aradal is Spitfire." She continued. "They didn't confront me until after they'd concluded their investigation almost a year after you rescued me. Nobody wanted a scandal, so I agreed that Aratek would turn over the AMX-1 to the Guard after flight testing was completed."

I remembered that Jason had once told me that several high-ranking officers in the Space Guard knew about Market, and they conveniently made sure no patrols ever went near it. Same went for some politicians.

What else had he said? _"Follow the bitcreds and you won't believe who all is involved or how high-up this thing really goes."_

I guessed that would also apply to Jan Aradal's former involvement with Pluto's Children.

"I've got dirt on them, too. It wasn't hard to obtain since I arranged to have them caught in a highly compromising situation," Emma continued. "You see, I have my own insurance policy. I may owe them, but they owe me as well."

"You never told me any of this."

"I'm sorry, Pete. I wasn't trying to keep secrets from you. At least I'm not anymore."

"Is there anything else that I should know about?" I asked her.

"If I think of anything then I'll be sure to tell you – as long as we're alone like we are now."

[5] A genetically engineered cross between a rabbit and an antelope. Jackalopes can easily grow to be four meters tall at the tips of their antlers in Io's low gravitational pull.

CHAPTER 13

Cat slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on her back and everything was blurry. There was somebody standing over her talking, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. Her head spun and she passed out again.

She woke up again. This time she could see and hear clearly. She heard soft beeping sounds and saw an illumination panel above here.

A woman appeared and stood over her. It was Madame Dommé.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Tired," Cat replied groggily. "What happened?"

"You were exposed to a designer neurotoxin when you handled a garment in my guest closet," Madame Dommé explained. "It was intended for me, but because your genetic profile is similar to mine it affected you. Fortunately for you the exposure was not fatal. Had I handled it I would have been dead in thirty seconds."

Cat tried to speak, but she didn't have the energy to form any more words.

"You saved my life, Catherine," Madame Dommé continued. "This puts me in an awkward situation. I may punish those who have repeatedly let me down, but I feel obliged to reward those who have done me a great service. In your case, I am obligated to free you. I still need your help and hope you will consider my request. Just rest for now and I'll discuss this with you when you've fully recovered."

" _Elvis, does that woman like to talk just to hear herself?"_ Cat thought and then passed out again.

The next time Cat woke up, she was back in her bed in her suite at Madame Dommé's villa. She still felt tired and weak but was able sit up and then swing her legs over the side of the bed. She was wearing purple silk pajamas.

They were deep purple, not copper colored. She also noticed that her ankle bracelets were missing.

There was a folded note – yes, a real note as in a message written on paper – on the nightstand beside her bed. She opened it and read it.

Please come to my suite when you're ready. – MD

Cat got slowly out of bed and walked on rubbery legs that hadn't seen any exercise recently to the door. It was unlocked. She opened it and walked down the hall. She noted that there was only one ornate door on the opposite side of the hall from hers and the other suites, and it was open. Cat peeked inside and recognized Madame Dommé's lavishly decorated apartment. It was empty.

Cat heard footsteps behind her and then brown arms wrapped themselves around her and hugged her tightly.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Madame Dommé said to her.

"How long was I out this time?" Cat asked.

"You were in hibernation for nine days while they synthesized an antidote for the neurotoxin and then another four in an automed while your cells were being repaired. You were asleep for two more days after that."

"I remember you talking to me."

"Yes, they'd just brought you out of the automed."

"I thought you said that you were freeing me."

"I have. You are no longer my slave. You may continue to be a guest here of your own free will for as long as you wish, or leave if you so choose. Before you decide, I want to show you something," she said as she took Cat by the hand and lead her towards her private elevator.

"Another 'guest'?"

"No, you'll see."

The brief elevator ride deposited them on the basement level and they entered Madame Dommé's private dungeon. Cat noticed that Amal's cell was now empty.

"This is what I wanted to show you," Madame Dommé told Cat as they approached a cell on the opposite side of the hall near the entrance to her playspace. Cat looked through the open door and saw an odd metal reclining chair with wrist and ankle restraints. A strange looking facemask dangled from a tube that was attached to an elevated tank mounted on a stand beside the chair.

"Before Spitfire and her crew left my home after plundering it, they locked me in that chair and fastened the feeding mask on me. I couldn't move or speak. After five days the nutrient tank was empty. I was half-dead by the time Art finally found me and freed me."

"That's horrible," Cat replied.

"Yes it was, Catherine. Now do you understand why I want Spitfire? I want justice. I want her to pay for what she did to me. I want her to suffer the way I suffered. I want revenge."

Cat had no love for Jan Aradal. As the pirate Spitfire, she'd left _Orchid_ and her crew stranded a half-billion kilometers from nowhere with an almost empty fuel tank and a busted radio. To this day she questioned why they'd rescued her after her crew had mutinied, but that had been Pete's decision and he was the captain.

At least Pete had been smart enough not to marry her. Emma was okay. She was a spacer and not a spoiled rich bitch. Cat liked her, even if she sometimes had trouble understanding her because of her thick German accent.

Then there was Cat's mother. If Cat helped Madame Dommé, she would be freed and they'd be reunited.

"Alright, I'll help you," Cat said hesitantly.

Madame Dommé hugged her again.

"Thank you Catherine. You have no idea what this means to me," she said.

"You realize that we're talking about kidnapping Jan Aradal, right? That's a lot different than stealing a painting from an art gallery."

"Really? Both are protected by locked doors, alarms, and armed guards. What's the difference?"

"Paintings don't fight back."

"Jan Aradal won't either once she's been sedated."

"There's another problem. She probably didn't stay on Mars and left like the rest of us. We don't know where she is now."

"She's on Ceres. Aratek has offices there with a penthouse suite. She'll be staying there."

"You're sure about that?"

"I have a reliable source. There is a certain high-ranking officer in the Space Guard who'd be very pleased if Jan Aradal got her just deserts at my hands. He's the one who told me that Jan Aradal is Spitfire. He supplies me with information in exchange for a good time when he visits Market incognito."

"Play parties?"

"What happens in the dungeon stays in the dungeon, Catherine," Madame Dommé said smiling and shaking her head. "Come, let's go grab some breakfast and start planning."

CHAPTER 14

"Sturgis is headed for Ganymede," Emma announced as she suddenly sat up in our bed and read the text message on her 'face.

"What? Are you positive?" I said incredulously.

"According to Cherry . . . I mean 'Jan Aradal', Sturgis filed a flight plan for Ganymede."

I bolted out of bed, dashed out of our room, and pounded on the door to the room next to us where John and Ellie were staying.

"John!" I shouted. "We need to get back to _Orchid_ and pull up the navigational display."

"Elvis, Pete!" was John's somewhat irritable reply from behind the door. "Do you know what time it is?"

"I know it's time we get a move on if we want to have a snowball's chance on Venus of intercepting _Dumb Lucky Bastard_."

"What the 'eff? Let me throw some clothes on first."

"Uh, that's probably not such a bad idea," I said as I realized standing there in the hallway stark naked.

The commotion I'd made in the hall had also awakened Lo, Tuesday, and John Hawker, who all wanted to know what was happening.

"We may have a lead on Cat," I informed them as I dashed back into our bedroom before anyone else saw me. I suppose I was fortunate that, as honored guests, Njord had put us up in the ranch house rather than his new guest lodge or I'd probably have a bigger audience.

"John and I need to check out something on _Orchid_ first," I explained though a crack in the door. "I'll let you know something as soon as we know."

Despite the fact that her and Dick's bedroom was located in another wing of the sprawling ranch house, Squeaky's enhanced hearing had still detected my shouting and door banging and she'd risen to investigate. When I told her what was going on, she offered us a ride in Njord's hovercar out to Watership Down's 'spaceport' where _Orchid_ was parked. Barely ten minutes later, John and I were on _Orchid's_ bridge gazing at the navigational display.

"Okay, we know when Cat's auction took place and that Sturgis won the eviction lottery," I said to John. "Let's assume he lifted from Parking Lot shortly after he collected Cat. _Dumb Lucky Bastard_ is probably similar to _Orchid_ as far as delta-v[6] goes, and if he's like us he won't want to take weeks to get to Ganymede but he also won't want to waste fuel either. So let's plot a course as if we were going from Parking lot to Ganymede with the water we have in the tank now and see where that puts us."

John's stubby fingers danced over the navigational imputs, and the display morphed to show a parabolic curve that connected Parking lot to the Jovian system. A blinking light showed their hypothetical current position.

"That puts 'em 'bout four days give or take from Ganymede," John said.

"Is there any way we could intercept them if that's close to where they are?"

John went to work on the display again, and a new odd-looking tight ovoid appeared that touched the original ellipse before it entered the Jovian system.

"It's messy and it uses lots 'o fuel," he explained to me. "We'll have us enough water left in the tank to dust on Io afterward, but Squeaky ain't gonna like it when you lower her swimmin' hole to refuel."

"When do we have to lift?"

"The sooner we lift the better. The longer we wait, the tighter this ugly lookin' thing gets and the more fuel we use."

I 'faced Lo and told him to get everyone ready to leave as soon as we returned.

Squeaky was reclined on one of the bunks in the crew compartment, fast asleep. Like John and Ellie, she and Dick were also expecting their first child and I hated to disturb her.

"Squeaky, I need you to wake up and get back to the house fast," I told her.

"Oh, okay Cap'n Pete," she said sleepily. "Sorry, I must have dozed off."

John and I decided to remain aboard _Orchid_ and get her ready for lift-off while Squeaky played shuttle for the rest of my crew. I relied on Emma to get our gear together while Lo, Tuesday, and John Hawker tended to their luggage. By now Phineas was also awake and wondering what we were doing aboard 'his candle' at such a late hour.

By the time Squeaky had ferried my crew and their gear to _Orchid_ , it was almost time for Io's artificial sun to make its morning appearance. Njord gave us a case of autorifles left behind by the Black Thunder mercenaries as a going away present. With Io's zombies and vampires now a tourist attraction, the recoiless rifles, which were never very effective against the so-called undead unless you emptied the magazine and chopped them in half, had been in storage just gathering dust and taking up space.

Dr. Drachen came out of the forest to see us off. The elderly vampire had been watching the news streams on his 'face and expressed his concerns to me about the Earthers possibly invading Io, but assured us that if they did then the Army of the Undead would stand with the farmers and ranchers and make the invaders rue the day they'd ever set foot on the 'Forbidden Planet of the Zombies'.

We left the gear that we didn't need for the trip behind to save mass. That included some thirty seven cases of Full Moon IPA. We'd hopefully be back on Io one passenger heavier in about a week and celebrate.

We did take a pair of autorifles and a pistol along. They'd make the charade we planned to attempt more convincing. It was also a charade which could land us all in a prison farm for a very long time if things didn't go as planned.

It was a risk we all decided we were willing to take to rescue Cat.

_Orchid_ was a less-than-state-of-the-art transport, not a Space Guard corvette. To pull off this stunt, we'd have to maneuver like a corvette or at least a packet that just happened to be in the right place at the right time and got lucky. That meant we'd be accelerating at higher thrust than normal for longer and burning fuel faster than usual to get where we needed to be. That might not even be the right place at the right time if Sturgis had delayed his departure from Parking Lot, or had a pressing need to get to Ganymede faster, or had abandoned his flight plan altogether and was headed for who-knows-where.

We lifted from Io just as day was breaking. We timed our liftoff so that we'd take advantage of both Io's and Jupiter's orbital velocity and steal some speed from them. At least that would help us out some.

The next two days were tense. We reached apogee and arced over, accelerating to put us heading back toward the Jovian system with a final vector that would match the hypothetical position and velocity of the incoming _Dumb Lucky Bastard_. Giant Jupiter ceased to recede as we reached apogee[7] and appeared to remain stationary as we swung around in our contrived orbit. It began to move forward and grow larger again as we moved to intercept a target that might not even be there.

If we'd guessed wrong, then we'd just wasted a lot of water for nothing and Squeaky wasn't going to be very happy with us when we dusted again.

[6] Velocity change, pronounced "delta-vee".

[7] The point in the orbit of a candle at which it is furthest from a planet.

CHAPTER 15

At 945 kilometers in diameter, Ceres was the largest asteroid in the Sol System and the de-facto 'capitol' of the Belt. Many major corporations, including a slew of mining companies, had offices there. It was a popular destination for human flight enthusiasts. Slitherboarding was also popular among the youth and free spirits on Ceres, but required more agility and skill than simply flapping your arms. It was also frowned upon by those who objected to the idea of gangs of unruly 'boarders surfing along the sides of buildings and other structures.

Ceres' 0.029g gravitational pull meant that an average person equipped with paddle mitts or winglets could easily fly like a bird on old Earth in the domed surface cities and cavernous warrens. Someone who weighed 26 kilograms on Mars would weigh only 2 kilograms on Ceres. The meager gravitational pull still allowed for vertically-oriented architecture that resembled buildings on Mars and Luna, only flimsier. Flying was even easier on Ceres than it was in the big air parks on Luna, so most people used it for everyday transportation since it was faster (and more fun) than walking. As such, almost all tall structures had broad landing ledges on each floor. Aratek's Ceres offices were no exception, although the ledges in the tall spire were retractable for security purposes.

Cat's analysis of the plans of Aratek's offices provided by Madame Dommé indicated that the simplest approach was to fly up to the penthouse level and snatch Jan Aradal out of her bedroom during her sleep cycle. Even with the ledges retracted, Cat could use suction cups to cling to the penthouse 'windoors' until she breached the locking mechanism. Of course doing so would likely trigger an alarm, so she needed to bypass the lock altogether. That meant using an ultrasonic diamond blade to cut a hole in the window. Once inside, she wouldn't have to worry about motion detectors or infrared sensors since Jan's presence in the bedroom would have triggered those if they were active. Cat's stealthsuit's built-in respirator would protect her from the potent narcogas that would incapacitate Jan as well as anyone else who might chance to enter her bedroom in the unlikely event that her activities were noticed. She shouldn't have much difficulty getting the unconscious Jan into the stealthbag in the ultra-low g. The extra bulk of the bag would make flying back down to ground level too difficult, so she'd simply drop the bag and let its inflatable bladders break the fall. Art would be waiting below and would recover the bag as well as deal with anyone who might interfere.

That could work, or then again maybe not. This was Ceres, not Mars . . .

Cat thought it through again and realized why that particular scenario wouldn't work. You could drop your heisted hefty treasures in a stealthbag with bladders in Mars' 0.38g and it would settle to ground fairly quickly, but drop a human in the same bag in Ceres 0.029g and the bag would bounce, and bounce, and bounce, and bounce.

Cat had learned that Art wasn't someone you wanted to mess with. He hasn't just a bronzed, muscular boy-toy. Art was an ex-Space Guard commando-turned-mercenary who'd been Madame Dommé's personal bodyguard for the last three years. He knew a multitude of ways to kill or incapacitate and wouldn't hesitate to use them if need be. Despite his superb physical conditioning and quick reflexes, he wouldn't be able to chase down their bouncing prize before Jan was mush.

Okay, scratch that idea and try again.

After some thought, she decided that lowering Jan to the ground might just be more practical than the bouncing bag idea. Aratek's lofty penthouse suite was located about 300 meters above ground level. A 300 meter-long spool of non-tangling nanofilament line would easily fit into her fanny pack along with the collapsed stealthbag. The suction-cup mounting for the spool's reel would be better carried separately on her utility belt. That way she could stick it on the building while she was still outside. In the low g, the reel's own friction would slowly lower the stealth bag containing Jan to the ground. With her prize secured, she and Art would resume their guise as wealthy newlyweds returning to their own private asteroid after their honeymoon with a container of fancy clothing, gadgets, and other unique novelties they'd purchased during their stay that you couldn't readily coax out of a minifac. Customs only cared about what you brought to Ceres and not what you took away, so they wouldn't see that the container actually carried their sedated prisoner. They'd board Madame Dommé's yacht with their precious cargo and return to Market. Mission accomplished.

Now, she just had to make it all work.

CHAPTER 16

The unexpected message came over their radio when they were still over a day out from Ganymede.

"Attention _Dumb Lucky Bastard_ , this is the Interplanetary Commonwealth Space Guard," announced the emotionless voice. "We are on intercept vector for boarding and inspection of your vessel. Please cut your motor and do not attempt evasive maneuvers or we will be forced to open fire."

Sturgis turned to the woman seated beside him on the bridge with a look of askance on his face.

"They're not showing up on our radar," she said as if reading his mind.

"They can see us but we can't see them and they know who we are," Sturgis said. "That means they can read our transponder signal and they have long range sensors. It's the Guard alright."

"You didn't look like you were totally sure at first."

"No, I'm sure Shakira. They're probably checking every candle they catch that they think might be coming in from Mars. There's nothing for us to worry about. Our cargo is all perfectly legal."

"Hello, they just showed up on our radar. They're coming in hot. Not big, must be a corvette or a packet with a full tank that was just waiting in a parking orbit for a visitor."

"It makes sense. They're keeping their bigger candles in reserve in case the Earthers decide to head this way."

"I hate the 'effing Earthers, Nathan. They've messed up everything. Why couldn't they all have just died?"

"Pappy told me that they had another weapon to use that wouldn't have destroyed the Earth but would have ended the war," Nathan answered his wife after a thoughtful pause. "He worked on it. He said it wasn't ready before the Fat Lady was already on its way, though."

"Why does that matter?"

"Maybe we wouldn't be in the situation we're in now," was his response. "Maybe the Earthers wouldn't have invaded Mars. I guess it really doesn't matter now, though. Once we get to Ganymede, we should be able to recruit someone to fill Sid's spot. We just need muscles, not brains. We may not be able to make runs to Mars anymore, but we can still haul cargo between the Belt and the outer moons. It'll all be okay."

The packet approached them. It was obviously a packet, an armed transport, but definitely not state-of-the-art. Space Guard vessels on picket duty were often second or even third line, so that didn't concern him.

Sturgis first realized that something wasn't quite right when the boarding party exited the air lock and swam into the cabin. Their spacesuits lacked the familiar Space Guard insignia, and two of them carried recoilless auto-rifles rather than the traditional stunners. Slug throwers are taboo aboard a candle unless you intend to inflect lethal damage. They flanked a third person who drew a pistol from his holster and pointed it at them.

"Cooperate and you will not be harmed!" barked a woman's harsh, authoritarian voice. "We represent Pluto's Children, and we only require that you surrender the slave that you purchased at auction on Market so that we may free her from immoral bondage!"

"Wait, we don't have her!" Sturgis protested. "She's not on board. I traded her for my wife!"

"He's right, she's not Cat!" said one of the other pirates to the woman pirate as he pointed to Shakira.

"Cat may be hidden somewhere else aboard."

"No, I don't believe so. Look how much she looks like Cat. They must have pulled a switcheroo."

"Okay, start talking," the woman pirate told Sturgis. "What did you do with the woman you bought on Market?"

'I already told you. I traded her to get my wife back!" Sturgis explained with growing panic in his voice.

"Who did you trade her to?"

"Madame Dommé. She kidnapped my wife, Shakira, and told me if I wanted her back that I had to bid on someone in a special auction. She said she'd front me all the bitcreds I needed, but I had to win. I had an eviction notice and they were going kick me out, so I didn't have a choice."

The woman pirate lowered her pistol and addressed her comrades.

"We're through here. Let's get back to our candle," she told them and then turned back to Sturgis.

"You're free to go, but if you know what's good for you you'll keep your mouth shut about this or we'll track you down and shove a mine up your ass. Got it?" she said to him.

"Got it," Sturgis muttered.

The pirates made their way back to the airlock, although one continued to keep her auto-rifle trained on Sturgis and Shakira.

"Do not attempt anything rash before we have departed," she cautioned them. "This weapon is armed with armor-piercing rounds that will quickly render your vessel incapable of sustaining a breathable atmosphere."

"Uh, whatever you say," Sturgis replied.

The airlock cycled, and the pirates were gone. Sturgis waited until the pirate's candle was pulling away from them before restarting their rocket motor and resuming course for Ganymede.

"That was scary," Shakira said with a sigh of relief. "It's odd that they only wanted that woman and nothing else from us."

"I wonder what's so special about her that everybody wants her so 'effing bad," Sturgis said scratching his head.

CHAPTER 17

"We'll that was fun," Emma said dejectedly as she yanked off her space helmet and tossed aside so that it went bouncing in slow motion across the deck in the low g created by our acceleration. "So much for Captain Spitfire flies again."

"Although our encounter with Captain Sturgis did not produce the desired results, it did provide us with Cat's location," Tuesday replied as she removed her helmet. "We should formulate a plan for returning to Market and rescuing Cat from Madame Dommé."

"Except that we can't go back to Market until the 'Earther crisis' is passed," I added as I lifted off my helmet. "Even if we're V.I.P.s, we lost the eviction lottery."

I was at least thankful that, between our helmets' mirrored visors and the audio filters that Phineas had rigged up to disguise our voices, we wouldn't be recognized if we ever encountered Sturgis or his wife again. I was mostly worried about Emma's prominent German accent, but the filter had done a good job of removing that as well.

"We know that there are those who have attained a status beyond that of V.I.P.," Lo Phat commented as he walked into the compartment. We were thrusting again, and our slight but constant acceleration produced just enough artificial gravity to walk in if you were a seasoned spacer. Otherwise, you bounced and bumbled your way around.

"What do you mean?" I asked Lo.

"There are permanent residents on Market, Pete. How did they become permanent residents?"

"Well, Ali became one when he opened his new bar-and-brothel there," I suggested.

"Correct. To do so he had to lease space for his establishment and presumably pay some fees."

"So, you're suggesting that we open a business there?"

"No, I'm not. Your mention of Ali provided me with an inspiration."

"Go on."

"The hypothetical scenario that comes to mind involves one of us becoming an employee of the Slippery Hole," he said as he looked at Tuesday.

"Father! _Really?_ " Tuesday exclaimed with obvious shock and indignation. "Are you suggesting that I should become a prostitute? Have you forgotten that I am engaged to be married to John Hawker?"

"You are jumping to a rash conclusion, number one daughter," Lo said and laughed. "You are well-suited to a rescue mission, but I did not imply that it required you engaging in sexual acts with strangers for fees. Your knowledge of interplanetary law and finances would make you a valued asset to Ali's business as it does to mine."

"You mean _our_ business, father. I am your daughter, not just something that you designed."

"Your point is well taken. I stand corrected."

"Assuming Ali would agree to this, what good would it do? Do you think Tuesday could rescue Cat all by herself?" I asked.

"That would depend on Cat's particular situation. We don't know why Madame Dommé was so determined to purchase her that she went to the extreme lengths that she did," Lo said thoughtfully as he stroked his goatee. "It would be most helpful if we knew more about Madame Dommé so that we could understand her motivation."

"There must have been something special about Cat that made Madame Dommé want her so badly," said Emma.

"Maybe instead of worrying so much about Madame Dommé, you should try to find out what makes Cat so special to her," Ellie suggested as she joined us rubbing her eyes. Our charade had occurred very early on _Orchid's_ normal 'candle time'.

"Good thinking. Ali said that they announced the auction in advance and that the announcement included Cat's stats," I said. "Maybe there was something in her stats that got Madame Dommé's attention.

"Can we get Cat's auction stats?" asked Emma.

"Ali may be able to send them to us now that the auction is over. I'll 'face him and ask him," I replied.

"I still believe that it would be prudent to research Madame Dommé as well," Lo suggested. "Madame Dommé and Cat are two pieces of a puzzle that may reveal much to us once joined."

CHAPTER 18

We dusted at Zombie City (formerly Lastima) Spaceport. We still had almost a quarter left in the fuel tank thanks to John's expert piloting, which was very impressive considering that we hadn't lifted with a full tank and had been running at higher than normal fuel-gobbling thrust for much of our excursion. Njord had 'faced us with the bad news that Watership Down's homing beacon had malfunctioned and we'd have to put down at Zombie City, but he would send his recently acquired passenger VTOL to pick us up. I suspected that the 'beacon malfunction' was contrived and this was really an instance of Squeaky not wanting her swimming hole lowered as well as Njord wanting to show off his fancy VTOL. I was okay with that because even though we'd have to buy water it would be filtered and wouldn't potentially mess-up our fuel pump.

The last time we'd visited Lastima, the spaceport was just a broad, bare patch of hard, flat ground with a half-dozen or so homing beacons arranged in a grid to mark the individual (unpaved) 'pads' and some landing lights. The lone control tower was rarely occupied and incoming calls for landing or launch clearance went to a local bar where the proprietor, who was also the launch/landing controller and hotel manager, spent most of his time. Now it was a growing complex of orderly paved launch/landing pads with a constantly attended traffic control. Dusting at Zombie City was almost like setting down at Olympus or Armstrong.

Since it would be a couple of hours before Njord's VTOL arrived to pick us up, we decided to do some sight-seeing. As usual, reclusive Phineas elected to remain aboard _Orchid._ Given the fact that he'd almost died the last time he was here, I could understand his aversion to spending time on Io.

A brightly painted train picked us up at our pad and took us from the spaceport into Zombie City. The train's multiple, open aired passenger cars all featured big display screens at the front of each car that aired a continuous string of infomercials showcasing Zombie City's numerous attractions. One was an ad for Watership Down Ranch that featured scenes of a smiling Squeaky grilling rabbit steaks over an open flame and dancing with Dr. Drachen.

"Visit Watership Down and go dancing with a vampire!" the off-screen announcer proclaimed.

I still found it hard to believe that two groups that were trying to kill each other mere months ago were now friendly partners in an interplanetary tourist attraction. I suppose that personal gain can be a very powerful motivator when it comes to changing attitudes, and both sides had mutually benefited from their association.

Judging from the looks of things as we approached Zombie City from the spaceport, the Earthers' invasion of Mars hadn't had a detrimental effect on Io's burgeoning tourist industry. If anything, it had boosted the number of new arrivals. Many who'd fled Mars had come here rather than the Belt and that was an instant boon to the hotel and restaurant industries.

Our little train deposited us at the entrance to Main Street, which had been dramatically transformed since we last saw it. The hole-in-the-wall bar where John and I drank beers during our last visit here had been replaced by a much larger establishment with enclosed air-conditioned patios and animated holographic signage proclaiming 'Zombie Bar'. The makeshift kiosks that had sprung up before our last departure were now storefronts and strip malls. An airship with animated signage promoting "Zombie Tours" cruised slowly overhead. Everything was bright, glitzy, a bit cheesy, and reminded me of New Vegas.

"I think I liked it better the way it was before," John commented as he looked around with a bewildered expression on his face.

"I know what you mean ol' buddy," I replied. "Whole place has gone commercial. I feel like we've landed in a tourist trap."

"It wasn't like this the last time you were here?" asked Emma.

"No, it wasn't anything like this," I explained. "All this is new, and there weren't crowds of tourists milling around and gawking at everything."

Speaking of gawking tourists, a young couple who had been walking in our direction suddenly paused and stared at us. The girl glanced briefly at her 'face then looked at me again and her eyes went wide.

"Oh my Elvis! It's really _him_!" she shouted excitedly and pointed at me. "It's Peter Soñador!"

Next thing I knew, we were being mobbed by an admiring crowd who were all holding up their 'faces wanting to take self-portraits with me and the rest of my crew. At least nobody was referring to me as the 'REAL Jack Parsec'.

The sheriff arrived to investigate what all the fuss was about and dispersed the crowd, but he wanted a self-portrait with us, too.

"I think we probably need to get to the airport," I suggested to the friendly sheriff. "Our ride to Watership Down should be arriving before too much longer."

"No problem, Captain Soñador," he said cheerfully. "I'll be happy to escort you back. It's not every day that I get to spend time with famous celebrities like you and your crew."

It seemed that we had become a tourist attraction in our own right.

The original airport had been located at the edge of the spaceport and we'd been able to walk to it from where _Orchid_ had dusted and had been little more than a bare patch of ground for the occasional VTOL. The new airport was further removed due to the increase in both air and space traffic so that candles and aircraft wouldn't tangle. The long runway for the anticipated future space plane and air-breather traffic was still under construction, but the new terminal was open to service the ever steadily increasing VTOL traffic.

We waited in the new passenger lounge for our flight to Watership Down to arrive, surrounded by patrolling 'bots hawking overpriced drinks and slithering wall 'faces that insisted on showing us personalized ads for local attractions that their algorithmic calculus insisted we'd like. There must be something about spending a long time in the void that causes the human brain to develop a resistance to addictive memes, because we were all totally disinterested in a going on a guided jackalope safari or learning to square dance with vampires. There wasn't a single beer ad, and the ad for the Church of Elvis of Later Day Impersonators was so far off the mark that I was convinced their algorithm wasn't just flawed but busted.

We were fortunately rescued from the clutches of the predatory 'faces by the arrival of a gleaming blue, yellow and green VTOL emblazoned with 'Watership Down Ranch' on its sleek fuselage. We all quickly made our way out of the terminal to the tarmac accompanied by a half dozen other passengers who were also apparently bound for our destination and included the young couple who'd recognized me when we were walking down Main Street.

"Look Mickey, they're coming too!" she said in hushed but still audible tones as she glanced at us wide-eyed. "This is going to be a honeymoon that I'll always remember!"

"I wonder if they're going on the jackalope safari with us," her husband replied excitedly. "Wouldn't that be fantastic?"

I was starting to question our decision to return to Watership Down when Squeaky emerged from the VTOL. She was wearing metallic light blue attire that would have passed for skimpies almost anywhere else but on steam bath Io where minimalist clothing was the norm.

"Howdy there, folks!" Squeaky announced as she descended the boarding ramp. "My name is Squeaky and I'm here to take you to Watership Down, home of the famous dancing vampires. Before we board, I'd like to recognize some very special passengers. We're privileged to have Cap'n Pete Soñador and the crew of _Orchid_ flying with us today."

A scattered round of applause accompanied by a few cheers followed. We all smiled and waved to our fellow passengers. Part of me was aggravated with Squeaky for bringing us to the other passengers' attention, but I really couldn't complain because Njord was letting us stay at Watership Down for free. Best to just go along with the whole celebrity attraction thing.

I suppose there are times when fame has its advantages since we got to board first. Dick turned and waved to me from the co-pilot's seat as we climbed the steps. We were directed to the first rows of seats by a smiling, attractive flight attendant who looked oddly familiar but whose name I couldn't place. Come to think of it, I didn't remember seeing any other women besides Squeaky working at the ranch.

When we were all seated and our bags were stowed, Squeaky did a final head count and noticed an empty seat. She frowned and then looked at me.

"Where's Cat?" she asked.

"She wasn't aboard _Dumb Lucky Bastard_ ," I answered. "I'll tell you all about it when we get back to the ranch."

"Uh . . . okay," she said puzzled, then regained her composure and addressed the passengers.

"Listen up folks! We'll be taking off in just a few minutes. Our estimated flight time to Watership Down is about fifty-seven minutes. Please enjoy your flight with us today."

Squeaky turned to me again said, "We've got an extra seat in the cockpit, Cap'n Pete. Would you like to join us?"

I wondered if this was less of a courteous request and more of an excuse to get me to tell what had happened during our failed rescue attempt. I glanced at Emma, who just smiled and motioned for me to go."

"Get your ass up there," John told me laughing and slapped me on the back.

I got up from my seat and stepped into the cockpit. There was an empty seat just to the right of the cockpit door, so I sat down.

"You didn't think you were going to keep me in suspense for a whole hour," Squeaky said to me. "Now, what the 'eff happened?"

"Sturgis traded Cat for his wife," I explained. "She'd been kidnapped by someone named Madame Dommé and was being held hostage."

The whine of our VTOL's four turbofan engines starting up followed by our lap belts fastening themselves briefly interrupted our conversation. The cockpit door automatically swung shut and latched.

"Passenger compartment is secured and ready for departure," said the flight attendant over the intercom.

"Your flight attendant looks familiar," I said to Squeaky.

"That's Randie. You knew her when she was Ransom."

"She switched genders?"

"This is the second time. She started out as Randie, then she became Ransom. Now she's back to being Randie again. I like her a lot better this way."

The turbofans' pitch abruptly changed and we lifted from the tarmac, initially ascending vertically but gaining forward motion as the engines progressively angled themselves toward horizontal. Squeaky made a wide circle around Zombie City to give the passengers a panoramic view, then set course for Watership Down and switched on the autopilot.

"So, Sturgis bought Cat and traded her for his wife?" she asked.

"That's the story he told us. He said Madame Dommé fronted him the bitcreds and told him he had to win the auction. They only let visitors bid, so she used him to get Cat."

"Why did Madame Dommé want Cat?" Dick asked me.

"We don't know. Tuesday has been searching Solnet for information on both Madame Dommé and Cat that would give us some clue. We also have a friend on Market who's helping us. Even if we figure out why, our biggest problem is getting back to Market. Until the Earther crisis passes or more people leave, they're not letting anyone else in, including V.I.P.s."

"Well, you're always welcome to stay with us for as long as you like," Squeaky replied. 'We've got plenty of room at the ranch."

"Thanks Squeaky," I said. "We really appreciate your generous hospitality."

"Well, there is one thing you could do for us if it's not too much trouble."

"Name it."

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in giving square dancing lessons, would you? We could use more instructors."

"I'd love to help, but not only do I not know anything about square dancing but I'm a really lousy dancer."

"Oh, don't worry Cap'n Pete. We've got some pills that will fix that."

Elvis, when will I ever learn?

CHAPTER 19

"PROVIDE YOUR PROGRESS REPORT."

"Assimilation campaign is proceeding as planned with minor set-backs. Insurgent group calling itself Greenslayer continues to mount resistance and hamper efforts to accelerate terraforming. We are working to identify and eliminate them."

"THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE. GREENSLAYER SHOULD HAVE ALREADY BEEN ELIMANATED. SCHEDULE HAS BEEN COMPROMISED. IMPLEMENT CORRECTIVE MEASURES IMMEDIATELY."

"Acknowledged. We will intensify efforts to identify and detain Greenslayer members."

"ADDITIONAL RESOURCES WILL BE DELIGATED TO ASSIST. DO NOT FAIL. THIS COMMUNICATION IS CONCLUDED."

"Well, that wasn't too bad," Bob 20984 said with a sigh of relief as the monitor went blank. "At least it didn't threaten us with testicular evacuation if we failed again this time."

"I hate having to report to the Big Head," Bill 19072 replied. "You never know for sure what kind of 'mood' it's going to be in."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Hey, have you seen Dick 21655 around? He didn't report for roll call."

"I think he's on impregnation duty."

"Lucky mudder! He's getting to pump Martian muff!"

"We would too if we had his sperm count. There's a reason they call him 'Dick the Dick' down at the Impregnation Station."

"Do you think Martian women find us attractive?" Dick 21655 asked.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because old Joe 9985 said that Martians think we're all short and fat."

"Hey, who died and made them the judges of the Sol System? Personally, I think Martians are too tall and skinny. Anyway, their women don't seem to mind spreading their legs for our dicks."

"As long as we give them food. We confiscated that from them, remember?"

"They got what they deserved. They're lucky we didn't nuke their scrawny asses out of existence for what they did to the Earth."

"The Big Head says we need them and Mars. It says they're important to our future. You trust the Big Head, don't you?"

"Of course, I do," Bill 19072 replied without hesitation. Any other answer was grounds for reprogramming. The Big Head was infallible, after all. All A.I.s were infallible. They weren't influenced by erratic and irrational human emotions. They were logical. They were human kind's salvation. They'd saved human civilization on Earth from extinction after the Martian's attempted genocide and they'd ultimately save the Sol System from rampant and ill-planned colonization.

First, they'd have to convince the Martians that their actions were in all human's best interests. They'd been assured that wouldn't be too difficult, but so far that hadn't been their experience on this miserable planet.

The Big Head was always right. They needed to eradicate Greenslayer. But how could they eradicate an enemy that they couldn't find because Greenslayer looked just like all the other Martians?

CHAPTER 20

Bow to you partner

Now bow to your corner

All join hands and circle to left

Now circle to right

Swing your partner then promenade

Allemande left Grand Right and Left halfway round

Now Weave the Ring around Saturn

– Popular square dance call

I noticed that I'd received a text on my 'face as I was walking out of the air-conditioned warehouse that was formerly Dr. Kali Dancer's research laboratory, but was now Watership Down's 'Recreation Center'. I'd just finished teaching my morning 'Introduction to Square Dancing' class. I had two beginner classes, one in the morning and another in the afternoon.

I was teaching beginner classes because, despite the 'magic learning pill', I was still a lousy dancer.

My crew and I had all chipped in to help earn our keep. John was giving beginning guitar lessons to the guests during the day and performing in the lounge at night (and really enjoying the applause he received). Tuesday was teaching tai-chi, and Ellie was now the ranch's official doctor. Emma gave swimming and diving lessons over at Squeaky's pond, and Lo advised Njord on business and promotional matters when asked. I'm not really sure what John Hawker did besides hang out with Dick and Squeaky, but nobody seemed to be complaining.

Dr. Drachen emerged from the door at the opposite end of the partitioned warehouse, having donned his broad brimmed hat and dark sunglasses to protect him from the bright morning light of Io's artificial satellite sun. He saw me and approached.

"How was your class today, Pete?" he said in his rasping, guttural voice.

"It was okay, but I still can't believe I'm even doing this," I replied.

"Join the club," the old vampire replied. "Be thankful that you don't have to put on nightly shows for Njord's guests. Performing _Thriller_ over and over gets old after awhile."

"I guess it isn't old if you're seeing it for the first time," I said. "I wouldn't have ever thought a song and dance routine first performed before humans ever set foot on Mars would be popular now, but it's a huge hit."

"Why? Because we have real zombies and better choreography?"

"They were performing in a whole g, so those leaps you do wouldn't have been possible."

"There is more to our dancing than leaps, Pete. You try teaching zombies dance steps. They don't share our synaptic telepathy, remember?"

"You got me there, Fritz. Regardless, your show is spectacular."

"Yes, spectacularly repetitive."

"Practice makes perfect, and your nightly performances are just that."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Dr. Drachen replied. "I'm heading back to the forest for lunch. I'll see you this afternoon."

Dr. Drachen shambled off towards the distant tree line while I headed for the ranch house.

The bright artificial sunlight made it difficult for me to read the text message on my 'face, so I waited until I'd mounted the front porch to check it again.

It was from 'Jan Aradal', and it simply read: PLEASE COME TO CERES IMMEDIATELY.

That was it. No explanation.

I knew Cherry wouldn't have sent such a message unless it was something very important that she didn't believe adding further detail would be safe.

It looked as though I'd have to cancel my afternoon class.

CHAPTER 21

The transparent window cut-out slowly fell to the ground and bounced several times before finally coming to rest in Market's artificial one-sixth g.

Cat cursed and then added, "I'm going to need to have something more reliable to hold the cut-out so it won't fall."

"The g on Ceres is less than it is here, so it should hold," Art suggested.

"I'm not good with just 'should'. We've got to be certain. If this falls from 300 meters it's going to attract unwanted attention."

Madame Dommé had been watching Cat's rehearsal for the better part of the last hour, noting her meticulous attention to the tiniest detail. If Cat's mother had taught her this then it was easy to see why the Black Cat had been so successful. Even her eventual capture had been the result of dumb luck and not flawed planning. Her robberies succeeded because any potential problems had been identified in advance and addressed. No room was left for mistakes.

"Catherine, you've been at this for almost nine hours," Madame Dommé shouted to Cat, who was currently clinging to a third story picture window of her villa that had been replaced more than a dozen times during the course of Cat's rehearsal. "It's time to quit and get ready for dinner. Chef Steven has prepared his famous Rabbit Stroganoff for our meal tonight."

"Not until we get this right."

Art turned to Madame Dommé with a look of exasperation on his face and shook his head.

"Catherine dearest, you're tired," Madame Dommé shouted. "When you're tired, you make mistakes. It's time to rest and try this again after you've slept."

Cat hesitated for a moment, and then replied, "I suppose your right."

Cat released her suction cup and used her webbed gloves to slow her descent from the third story window she'd been practicing on. On Ceres they'd provide considerably more lift than they did on Market, which she'd need to climb and then safely descend 300 meters. She landed catlike barely two meters from where Madame Dommé and Art stood.

"You're quite skilled with those," Madame Dommé complimented her. "Have you flown before?"

"No, but it wasn't difficult to learn. You don't need a pill for this."

"Have you ever taken an edutab? Just curious," Madame Dommé asked as they walked back inside the villa.

"No. My mother told me if you didn't learn something through real experience then your learning wasn't real. An edutab is someone else's experiences in chemical form."

"What if it's just for recreational purposes, or maybe learning a foreign language?"

"You're still putting another person's memories in your brain. What if there's more there than just what you're supposed to learn?" Cat asked.

Cat paused in the back hall to finish doffing her practice stealthsuit and slip her robe on over her skimpies. Madame Dommé patiently waited on her, debating on what would be the best time to tell her what she'd recently learned.

It was something that made her have second thoughts about their plan to kidnap Jan Aradal.

Chef Steven's Rabbit Stroganoff was excellent, and Cat shamelessly devoured hers. Madame Dommé forgave her table manners given her recent physical exertions, but then again her personal bias influenced her.

She had to tell her.

"Catherine," she began hesitantly. "Do you know why the neurotoxin that was intended for me affected you?"

"You told me it was because my genetic profile is similar to yours due to our common ancestry."

"I was wrong. That neurotoxin was a fine-tuned custom job. It should have only affected me, or someone who was very closely related."

"What do you mean? We aren't related," Cat said as she picked up and licked the last of her meal off of her plate.

"Catherine, your grandfather was also my father," Madame Dommé explained to Cat slowly. "He was apparently a very busy man and had multiple 'wives' scattered across the Sol System. Your mother is my half-sister, but I didn't know that until I received the results of your DNA scan. It turns out that I'm your aunt."

Cat almost choked on her food. She gasped, "You're joking, right?"

"I didn't believe it either, so I made them re-run the test. You're my niece."

"I don't know what to think."

"Do you have any idea what this means, Catherine? It means that you are my closest living relative."

"What about my mother? You said she was your half-sister."

" _Oh, sweet Elvis, why did she have to ask me this now?"_ Madame Dommé thought to herself.

"Catherine, the minute I learned all this I made arrangements to have your mother – _my_ sister – freed. I pulled some strings, but I received bad news."

"What do you mean? They won't release my mother?"

She couldn't tell her the truth.

"They can't. She's dead," she told Cat.

Cat hesitated for a long moment and then said, "You sure know how to spoil the mood."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Catherine," Madame Dommé said as she reached across the table to grasp Cat's hand. "There's something else that I want to tell you. I've had second thoughts about abducting Jan Aradal."

"What the 'eff? Why?"

"Because you're more important to me than Jan Aradal, that's why. I don't want you taking chances that could get you captured or killed."

"What about what _I_ want?" Cat shot back angrily and jerked her hand free of Madame Dommé's. "What if _I_ want revenge on Jan Aradal for leaving us stranded a half-billion kilometers from nowhere with an almost empty fuel tank and a busted radio? You're not the only one who has a score to settle with Spitfire."

"Didn't you help her to leave Market after her crew abandoned her?"

"It wasn't _my_ idea. Ali Kahn and Lo Phat talked Captain Pete into making a deal with her. All they could think about was money. If it had been up to me or John, we would have thrown the bitch out in the street and let Market Security deal with her."

"I'm sorry Catherine. I didn't know."

"Well, now you do. So do we go through with this, or did I just waste my time training for something that's not going to happen?"

CHAPTER 22

Phineas brought _Orchid_ over to the ranch on autopilot. It was just a short suborbital hop and with Watership Down's homing beacon working again dusting on target was child's play. The Space Guard would probably have taken issue with a non-pilot as the sole crewmember if _Orchid_ had left the atmosphere, but Phineas' shallow trajectory between the extinct volcanic peaks reached apogee just below the 'synthosphere', the manufactured layer of charged gas that held Io's heat and oxygen in and kept massive Jupiter's radiation out.

Njord made a big deal out of _Orchid's_ arrival at Watership Down, announcing it over the loudspeakers so that the guests could come out and watch. It was yet another attraction. I had to admit the sight of our sleek, silvery candle descending was an impressive sight and the roar of the rocket motor as it briefly throttled up for final approach had the crowd whooping.

You'd have thought they'd never seen a candle dust before.

The landing was textbook, but it was made on autopilot so it had better have been perfect or we'd have serious problems. We'd already packed our gear and changed into our stylish new 'official' _Orchid_ jumpsuits that Squeaky had designed and produced in her minifac. Lo pointed out to me that identical jumpsuits were available for purchase in the ranch's gift shop. Nice marketing ploy.

Squeaky ferried us out to _Orchid_ in the hovercar. It took three trips to deliver all of us and our gear, which gave the ranch's courtesy bus with its load of guests eager to have their photos taken with us standing in front of _Orchid_ time to reach the candle. I noticed that many of the guests sported 'official' _Orchid_ tee-shirts and one man was wearing an already sweat-drenched _Orchid_ jumpsuit. Our jumpsuits featured a refrigerated base layer that Squeaky claimed would keep us cool even in temperatures as high as 55 degrees Celsius. The gift shop knock-offs apparently lacked that feature.

We posed with the sweaty guy first so that he could get back aboard the air-conditioned bus.

A half-hour and some two dozen photos later, the guests piled back into the courtesy bus. As I was getting ready to jump into the cargo basket, Njord approached me.

"Good luck and clear skies Pete," he said.

"Thanks. Sorry that we're leaving you in a lurch."

"Don't worry. I've got plenty of edutabs and eager hands who want to do something else besides herd rabbits."

We touched elbows, then lanky Njord leaped into his hovercar and I boarded the cargo basket. I watched Njord's hovercar recede in the distance as the basket ascended to the open cargo bay.

Ten more minutes passed. John and I were on the bridge performing our pre-flight instrument check. Even though Phineas had just brought _Orchid_ over from Zombie City Spaceport, pre-flight checks were mandatory.

"We're all systems go," he said to me.

"Watership Down, this is _Orchid_ ," I radioed Njord. "We are ready for lift-off."

"Roger that _Orchid_ ," Njord replied. "You are cleared for launch."

"Copy cleared for launch, thank you. We're commencing countdown. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .

With our launch music blaring over the intercom, _Orchid's_ rocket motor thundered to life and we shot skyward leaving a white vapor trail in our wake. We quickly punched out of the troposphere and through the synthosphere into the void. Giant Jupiter loomed in the inky blackness outside our viewports, surrounded by Io's sister moons. John plotted our course on the navigational display and, as our rocket motor switched from higher-thrust launch to cruise mode and our wing-like radiators deployed, we yawed away from the Jovian system, heading sunward toward the distant Asteroid Belt and Ceres.

While we were in route, I poured over Cat's auction stats that Ali had sent to me. Although Cat and I were once in a relationship, I never really knew that much about her past. I knew that she was originally from Sagan City and that her father was a candle mechanic who'd passed on his knowledge to his daughter, but that was about it.

I didn't even know her last name or if she had one. She'd always simply gone by Cat.

The stats provided a piece of information that did jump out at me: her date of birth. She'd always insisted that her birthday was on February 29, but the stats gave it as January 6. Why would she lie to me about something like that?

On a hunch I had Jan Aradal query birth records for Sagan City on January 6 of Cat's birth year. The information that turned up was very helpful. There were sixty-four baby girls born on Mars in Sagan City on her birth date, but only four were of mixed French-North African ancestry which fit Cat's profile. One was named Catherine Mandeux.

Cat could easily be short for Catherine. The last name sounded oddly familiar, so I queried it on Solnet and hit the jackpot.

"All hands to the galley!" I announced over the intercom.

A minute later my bewildered crew had gathered around the mess table.

"What the 'eff is wrong?" John asked worriedly.

"Nothing's wrong. I know who Cat is and - just _maybe_ \- why Madame Dommé wanted her so badly."

"Do not keep us all in suspense," Lo said.

"Does the name Celeste Mandeux sound any alarms?"

The rest of my crew looked puzzled except for Lo, who looked at me with widening eyes.

"The Black Cat," he said with almost reverent tones. "She was probably one of the most successful thieves in recent history."

"So you're sayin' that Cat is the Black Cat?" John asked.

"No, the Black Cat was her mother. Cat was her protégé, the Black Kitten. The Black Cat was eventually captured, but nobody ever knew what happened to her accomplice."

"I always wondered how she was so good at scroungin' up stuff," John commented.

"I think she completely abandoned her career as a thief after her mother was captured," I suggested. "She wanted to bury her past."

"So you think Madame Dommé wanted her because there's still a reward for her capture?" Ellie asked.

"No, from what Ali told me, Madame Dommé has bitcreds to throw away. She owns the Toy Store, and that's one of the main slave markets. Turns out she's not the most popular person on Market. Ali said she has a running feud with Roland Hayes, the owner of the Pet Shop. Word on the street is that Hayes took advantage of one of her subordinates when he was distracted and stole an entire shipment out from under her.

"I didn't think theft was allowed on Market," said Emma.

"Depends on who's stealing what from whom." Lo explained. "Being outmaneuvered in a business transaction due a subordinate's negligence wouldn't be considered theft."

"In other words, don't get caught," I said.

"So you believe that Madame Dommé wants to use Cat to get even with Hayes?" Emma asked.

"I don't think she wants her to fix candles, and she paid way too much to resell her at a profit."

"Cat's unique skill set would enable her to foil security systems and gain access to heavily protected facilities without being detected," Tuesday suggested.

"Madame Dommé gets her revenge if it works, and can play innocent if it doesn't. It will be Cat's neck in the noose if she's caught," I said.

"Why would Cat willingly go through with something like this?" John Hawker asked.

"Maybe Madame Dommé made her an offer she couldn't refuse, like her freedom if the Black Kitten comes out of retirement for one last heist," suggested Emma.

"All this assumes that Madame Dommé's interest in Cat is to use her as an instrument of revenge against a rival slave merchant," Lo commented. "She may have other more devious plans in mind."

CHAPTER 23

"How does it feel?" Art asked.

"It feels good. It's like a second skin," Cat replied as she stretched and twisted. "No limitations on flexibility or mobility."

"Okay, now try on the headpiece."

Cat slipped on the snug-fitting headpiece. It was stretchy like the rest of her stealthsuit. As she looked at herself in the full-length mirror, she noted that the large lenses that covered her eyes gave her a vaguely insect-like appearance.

"Can you see okay?"

"Perfectly. It's like I'm not looking through anything. Well almost, there's this stuff going on at the bottom."

"That's your light level and range indicators," Art explained. "You'll always see things as if it was Market normal daylight, but the display will tell you if it's really darker or brighter as well as the distance to whatever object you're looking at. Now, there's something else I need to show you."

Art held up a life-sized image of Jan Aradal's face. A yellow rectangle suddenly appeared around the photo with the words, 'TARGET IDENTIFIED' displayed below.

"Did your display identify Jan Aradal?" Art asked.

"Yeah, but why do I need that? I know what she looks like."

"You know what she _looked_ like," Aunt Maude chimed in. 'Aunt Maude' was what Cat had been told that she should call her nearest living relative now.

"Your lenses have a built-in biometric scanner that will identify Jan Aradal based on multiple facial metrics," Art explained. Unless she's had radical plastic surgery recently, which we know she hasn't based on the most recent press releases, the scanner will positively identify her for you."

"That's one less thing for you to have to worry about," said Aunt Maude.

"The headpiece has nose filters that will prevent you from breathing the narco gas. The 'gas' is really just an ultra fine particulate, so micro filters will work but only for fifteen minutes tops before they'll start to clog. Don't hesitate - grab your target and go," Art continued. "The narco capsules are contained in individual sleeves at your right wrist, just like in your practice suit. One should be more than sufficient, but you'll have two spares. One last thing: the back of your left glove has a concealed, one-shot stunner. It won't show up as a stunner on a customs' scan because of its small size and unique configuration. Only use it as a last resort, got it?"

"Got it," Cat replied. "Is the yacht ready to go yet?"

" _Indulgence_ is waiting for you and your new 'husband' at my private docking port. I've been told that Ceres is in a reasonably favorable position, so your flight from Market will only take a few days. You'll have as much time as you need to practice your flying skills in Ceres' g, so don't rush. Jan Aradal isn't going anywhere, so wait until the time is right.

"You don't have to tell me that, Aunt Maude."

"I know that Catherine, but I don't want you taking any unnecessary risks. You mean too much to me."

CHAPTER 24

We made it to Ceres in just under nine days. Our flight took as long as it did because we went out of our way to avoid any Earther commerce raiders that might be poised to intercept incoming traffic from the Jovian system. Fortunately, we encountered none although the odds were slim at best unless you were very close to Ceres where the Space Guard also patrolled.

Despite being the largest of the asteroids, Cere's gravitational pull was a paltry 0.03 g. That's less than a tenth of the g on Mars. It was significantly more g than tiny Parking Lot's, but dusting on Ceres could still easily be accomplished with maneuvering thrusters.

Hard to call it 'dusting'. It was more like settling down.

Aratek's Cere's branch headquarters was a 300 meter tall gleaming monolithic spire located in the central part of one of the large, pressurized surface domes. The interior of the vast, crater-spanning transparent dome was lined with a network of regularly spaced giant floodlights that produced interior lighting very similar to Market's. A high-speed maglev[8] car transported us from Ceresport to Aratek's offices in a matter of a few minutes.

We, sans the ever-reclusive Phineas who'd stayed aboard _Orchid_ (no surprise there), all rode the private express elevator car to the penthouse suite that comprised Jan Aradal's executive offices and living quarters on Ceres.

Cherry in her Jan Aradal morph was waiting for us when the elevator doors opened.

"Glad you all could make it on such short notice," she said.

"So, what's this all about?" I asked her. She simply put her finger to her lips and then motioned for us all to follow her, which we did.

Cherry/Jan led into a windowless gray-walled room in the center of the spacious penthouse suite that doubled as her private office and living quarters. I'd been in a room like this before at the Aratek offices in Bradbury. There was a long table with the minimalist things that passed for chairs on Ceres and a large display screen on one wall. Cherry/Jan motioned for us all to take a seat and then closed and locked the door.

"We can all speak freely now," she told us. "This room is EM shielded, so whatever is said in here stays in here."

"So what is so dang important that you had to drag us all the way over here?" John asked impatiently.

"I believe that I have discovered a way to defeat the Earthers," she answered.

We all sat there in stunned, jaw-dropped silence for a moment, and then Cherry/Jan continued.

"In researching Aratek's vast data repository, I determined that during the Interplanetary War a number of options were considered for a quick, decisive victory. Ultimately, two programs proceeded into the advanced stages of development. The one that we're all familiar with was ultimately nicknamed the Fat Lady. It was a large asteroid that would have passed close to Earth anyway, but could be made to impact with outside help. The other program was called Project 42. Are any of you familiar with it?" she asked as she stared directly at Emma.

Nobody said anything, so she continued.

"Project 42 involved the development of rapidly self-replicating nanobots that would attack and destroy the Earther's candles and warbots. The concept was for them to have an appetite exclusively for items manufactured from materials from Earth."

"Like nano-termites?" I asked, recalling the tiny wood devouring insects I'd once read about.

An excellent analogy Pete," Cherry/Jan replied. "The problem was that many candles used by the Colonial Alliance in the war were also manufactured from materials from Earth. That made the weapon too indiscriminate. The Fat Lady option had to be exercised before the asteroid got too close to Earth to nudge, so it was selected and Project 42 was consigned to the Cold Storage facility in Bradbury."

Emma stiffened at Cherry/Jan's explanation.

"So now you know why your presence here is so important," said Cherry/Jan as she looked directly at Emma. "The candles we have now are all manufactured from extra-terrestrial materials which at the very least have slightly different chemical and magnetic signatures. The nanobots won't bother us, but they'll go after the Earthers. That makes Project 42 the perfect weapon. I attempted to access Cold Storage to retrieve it before we left Mars, but I couldn't fool Sentry and was denied access. Only the real Jan Aradal will be admitted based on complex biometrics that my morphing abilities don't include."

"What's Sentry?" I asked.

"It's a sophisticated multi-modal high-security system that will only allow access to the individual with the correct profile," blurted Emma. "That's only one person, me."

"Yes. I was able to mimic your fingerprints, voiceprint, and retinal patterns, but not your saliva," said Cherry/Jan. "I failed the lick-sensor test and was barred access."

"What did your security detail think about that?"

"They were actually relieved. They were shouting at me that the Earthers were coming and we needed to go, and blamed it on a faulty sensor."

"I'm guessing your plan involves taking Emma back to Bradbury to access Project 42," I said.

"Most unfortunately, there is a problem with your plan," Lo chimed in. "Emma altered her voice to prevent from being recognized by voice print."

"Which is why it will take both of us to get in," Cherry/Jan explained. "Emma will provide the fingerprints, retinal patterns, and saliva. I'll supply the voiceprint."

[8] Magnetic levitation, or 'Maglev', is the method through which a vehicle is suspended by using magnetic force to counter gravitational force. On Ceres, where the gravitational pull is three-hundredths of Earth's gravity, a maglev requires only a miniscule amount of power.

CHAPTER 25

Despite numerous rehearsals on Market and practice flights after arriving on Ceres, the real thing inevitably involved a number of unknowns. In an ideal situation, your practice sessions were conducted under identical conditions. That was rarely the case, so you got as close as you could get.

Flying up 300 meters under your own power sounds may sound intimidating, but Cat found that it was surprisingly easy in Cere's 0.03g and 1,000 millibar atmosphere. Especially with her stealthsuit's webbed gloves to propel her. It was like swimming effortlessly in the air.

She reached the penthouse level and used her suction cups to secure herself to the panoramic window. She withdrew the cutting tool from her backpack and deployed it, then stuck it onto the window and activated it. She watched as its arm extended and the rotated, silently cutting a perfect meter-diameter circle that swung to the side on its anchor tether once completed.

Her multispectral low-light vision revealed multiple sleeping occupants in the darkened penthouse. Guests? Cat hadn't anticipated that, but the narcogas capsules were indiscriminate. All inside would be affected.

She removed a capsule from her right wrist and tossed it through the opening she'd created in the widow. She waited until her optical display told her that the particulates had uniformly diffused, then slipped inside.

She scanned the suite. A yellow rectangle identifying her target suddenly appeared in her field of vision, only it wasn't unconscious and was rapidly moving toward her. Without hesitating she raised her left hand and fired the mini-stunner concealed in her glove at point blank range.

The reaction from her target wasn't what typically happened when you stunned someone. Rather than just crumple to the floor, Jan Aradal seemed to experience some sort of seizure. She jerked about wildly before finally coming to rest in an odd, contorted position.

Suddenly, the yellow rectangle disappeared. Jan seemed to be changing before Cat's very eyes, ultimately becoming a young woman with dark, metallic red hair, an angel's face, and an athlete's lean, slender body with the exception of her firm enhanced breasts and buttocks.

She was an android!

Cat glanced around the suite at the unconscious figures. She immediately recognized Pete, John, Ellie, Lo and Tuesday. Orchid's crew was all here, except for Phineas which was apparently the norm.

She looked at Emma, and the yellow rectangle identifying her target suddenly re-appeared. How could that be possible?

Then abruptly, in one horrifying moment, it dawned on her. Emma was really Jan Aradal. Pete had married her after all.

Cat wanted to scream at that moment. How could he have married the evil bitch? Part of her wanted to toss him out of the hole in the window right then. Even in Ceres' tiny g, his landing from a 300 meter fall would surely mess him up.

She took a slow, deep breath and regained her composure. She needed to secure her prize and exit the suite before her nose filters clogged or a security detail showed up to check on things. She extracted the stealthbag from her pouch and deployed it, then scooped up Emma, deposited her in the bag, and closed it.

CHAPTER 26

I awoke to Tuesday frantically shaking me and urging me to wake up. I felt groggy, as though I'd been drugged.

"Captain Pete, wake up! Emma has been kidnapped!" she informed me with uncharacteristic urgency. "Whoever did it came in through a hole in the window. They also deactivated Cherry!"

I got up slowly, still feeling like I must have consumed an entire six-pack of Full Moon IPA before I'd gone to bed. Tuesday helped me gain my footing, which fortunately wasn't too hard in 0.03g. She had already turned up the lights, and I immediately saw Cherry in her default android form sprawled near a meter-diameter circle that had been cut in the penthouse suite's panoramic window.

"I have attempted to awaken her without success," Tuesday told me.

"Someone must have turned her off," I said. "We just have to turn her back on."

I bent over Cherry's motionless form. When she was delivered to us in a shipping container back on Mars, she had a folded paper note clutched in her hands with the words, 'Hello Cherry'. I'd read the note out loud and she'd come to life. On a hunch, I figured it was worth trying again.

"Hello Cherry," I said to her.

At first nothing happened. Then suddenly her eyelids fluttered and her body straightened. She opened her eyes, sat up and looked at me smiling.

"Hello, I'm Cherry Poppers. Would you like to sex with me?" she said cheerfully.

"Cherry, it's me." I said to her. "Someone must have deactivated you. Do you remember what happened?"

Cherry looked at me with a puzzled expression that gradually changed to one of shock.

"Pete, I was shot with a stunner!" she said. "An intruder cut a hole in the window and then introduced a sleeping agent into the room. I was unaffected and attempted to detain the intruder when she fired a stunner at me. The blast caused me to deactivate to prevent damage."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. The intruder was wearing a stealthsuit which rendered her invisible in the normal visual and near-infrared spectrums, but not in other frequencies which my enhanced optics are able to view. The stealthsuit was form-fitting except for the oculars, but I was still able to accurately map her biometrics."

"You said 'her'. Are you sure?" Tuesday asked.

"I am 99.44 percent certain that the intruder was female based on anatomical proportions."

"Cherry, you've got to morph back into Jan," I said trying to keep my calm under the circumstances. "We're going to need her to help access Aratek's resources to find the kidnapper."

"Okay Pete," she acknowledged. She suddenly froze statue-like, and then the metamorphosis occurred. It was surreal watching her physical features change in front of me. They didn't make androids like her any more, and maybe her unsettling ability to rapidly morph was one reason.

Her timing couldn't have been better. Aratek security showed up to investigate a possible disturbance.

"There's been a security breach!" Cherry/Jan informed the stunner-wielding guards as they entered our suite. "An intruder cut a hole in the window and abducted Captain Soñador's wife!"

"If they came through the window, then they probably left that way," Tuesday suggested.

"Check external sensor recordings and alert the police and Traffic Control," Cherry/Jan instructed the security detail. "We'll need scans of all departures."

"Yes, Ms. Aradal," said one of the guards as they left our room. He must have had a 'face implant because he seemed to repeat her instructions to himself.

I've been told how much I am like my fictional alter-ego, Jack Parsec. I'm supposedly calm and cool-headed in a crisis situation. Right now I wasn't. My wife had just been kidnapped and I was suddenly feeling helpless. I felt as though the blood was draining from my brain and collapsed into a chair.

John staggered over to me, still groggy from whatever had sedated us, and pulled up a chair beside me.

"Don't worry Pete. They'll find her," he said trying to reassure me.

I wasn't so sure at that moment. With all the domed cities and a vast labyrinth of tunnels and underground complexes, there were lots of places to hide on Ceres.

"We might be able to identify who took Emma if we could determine their motive," Tuesday suggested. "There are several likely scenarios. Given our celebrity status, kidnapping and ransom is a possibility."

"A plausible theory, number one daughter," Lo replied as he rubbed his forehead. By now everyone was awake and gradually gathering around me. "However, I suggest that Emma was not the kidnapper's objective."

I looked at Lo, wondering what he meant by that. He must have sensed my confusion.

"I suggest that we continue this conversation later," he said. By now security had returned, followed a short time later by the police.

A disheveled looking detective in a rumpled jumpsuit took our statements while a swarm of crime scene 'bots rapidly and methodically scoured the suite. There wasn't much we could tell him since we'd all been unconscious. Cherry/Jan's statement mimicked ours since she couldn't very well reveal that she was awake until she'd been stunned. Her suite had no internal security sensors for obvious privacy purposes, so there was no record of her encounter with the intruder and her sudden transformation back into Cherry.

With our interviews all concluded, the detective and his swarm of investigator 'bots left. A spider-like repair 'bot appeared at our window and proceeded to seal the circular opening.

"What did you mean that Emma wasn't the kidnapper's objective?" I anxiously asked Lo.

"I will explain, but given the hour our conversation would be more productive over breakfast," he suggested.

"I'll order up food," said Cherry/Jan. "Who'd like pancakes and rabbit sausages?"

"Sounds good to me!" replied John.

"Me too," said Ellie.

"Can I have patty sausages instead of links?" John Hawker asked.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

"As your candle's doctor, I'm telling you that you need nourishment," Ellie insisted.

"Okay, I'll have coffee."

"Jan, please order Captain Pete a large orange juice with a carbo-protein supplement," Ellie said. Then she added, "Doctor's orders."

Our food was being prepared to order by real humans, so it wouldn't arrive immediately. I impatiently quizzed Lo again about his cryptic remark.

"Who besides you knew that we were coming here prior to our arrival?" Lo asked Cherry/Jan.

"No one knew. My security staff only learned of your visit when you arrived."

"So, no one would have known we were coming or that we would be staying with you in your penthouse suite. That is most interesting."

"What are you getting at?" I asked.

"The intruder did not come for Emma because there was no expectation of Emma being here," Lo explained. "The normal resident of this penthouse is Jan Aradal. She was the intended target. The kidnapping was not a hastily planned crime-of-opportunity, but had all the indications of something that was planned well in advance and executed by a highly-skilled professional."

"So why did they grab Emma instead?"

"If the intruder's stealthsuit was equipped with facial recognition optics, then Emma would have been identified as Jan Aradal," Tuesday interjected.

"Correct," said Lo. "Once Cherry was deactivated by the stun blast, the only occupant of this suite with Jan's facial metrics would have been Emma."

"You said you were able to accurately map the intruder," I said to Cherry/Jan. "Could you identify her using that?"

"Only if I could match her to someone else that could be identified," she replied.

"There is a possibility that Jan encountered the kidnapper at some point prior to Emma's abduction," Tuesday suggested. "She likely studied Jan's habits closely in order to determine the best location and time."

"My memory includes biometric scans of all individuals that I have ever encountered. I'll attempt to match the intruder's scan to one of them," Cherry/Jan said. She closed her eyes and ceased to move, as if she was meditating.

"I guess this is gonna take a while," John commented. "I hope our food get's here soon."

Cherry/Jan's eyes suddenly sprang open. The look on her face was one of utter disbelief.

"It was Cat!" she shouted.

CHAPTER 27

"We're almost home free," Art commented as they walked along the deserted concourse leading to the airlocks normally used by freight handlers. Indulgence was parked in the section of the spaceport reserved for private and business traffic, which meant that they could avoid the main commercial terminal and possible unwanted scrutiny.

"How's our package?" Cat asked as she gestured to the large, bulky duffle bag slung across Art's shoulder.

"She won't be waking up anytime soon," he replied with a grin. "You did a great job back there. M.D. will be pleased."

"Thanks. The stunner was a good idea. If I hadn't had it, the Jan android would have ruined everything."

They arrived at the lockers and retrieved their spacesuits. Ten minutes later they were suited-up and standing in an airlock, waiting for it to finish cycling. The 'duffle bag' swelled as the pressure dropped. It was designed like an escape ball and had enough oxygen to last at least twenty minutes, which was plenty of time for them to reach the yacht and board it. In Cere's 0.03 g, transporting the bulky duffle bag with its unconscious cargo was easy.

They arrived in short order at _Indulgence_ , which stood on her landing gear with her nose pointed skyward. Strategically positioned flood lights around the pad illuminated the sleek clipper's silvery sides. Art tapped in a code on the control panel on and his spacesuit's wrist. A passenger basket emerged from a hatch near the yacht's nose and descended smoothly and silently in the airless void to ground level.

"All aboard," he said over his radio.

They rode the basket up, cycled through the candle's airlock, and then quickly discarded their spacesuits. While Art prepped the candle for departure, Cat extracted Emma from the bag and secured her in an acceleration couch in the salon. She joined Art on the bridge and strapped herself in for lift-off.

"Our passenger is secured," she informed him.

"Good. We're ready to lift. The sooner we're out of here, the better."

With clearance obtained from Traffic Control, _Indulgence_ lifted silently into the blackness on her maneuvering thrusters. When she was sufficiently clear of the big asteroid's surface, Art fired their main rocket motor and vectored them toward their 'private asteroid'. In actuality, a minor course change five hours from now would nudge them into a trajectory that would take them back to Market.

"I'm not sparing the water going back," Art said. "If anyone tries to chase us they'll never catch us."

"So, what happens next?" Cat asked as they continued to steadily accelerate.

"What do you mean?" Art asked her in reply.

"What happens to her? To Spitfire?"

"Oh, I figured that was up to you and M.D. I've been told you're the ones with the scores to settle."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"M.D. said she tried to maroon you in the void. Is that really true?"

"Yes."

"Ouch, that's cold. I'm sure whatever M.D. has planned for her won't pleasant."

"You're okay with that?" Cat asked him.

"Cat, I get paid to do what I do and I don't judge anyone. Everyone tries to convince everyone else how they're on some higher moral plane and justify their actions when they're really just looking out for themselves. It's still survival of the fittest, only in our case having the most bitcreds puts you at the top of the food chain. Humans never left the jungle, we just took it with us. This time Spitfire lost and M.D. won. Anyway, I figured you'd be okay with this or you wouldn't have gone along in the first place."

Cat stared thoughtfully out the large forward viewports into the blackness. There were millions of asteroids out there, but you couldn't see them because of the vast distances between them thanks to the Belt's immensity.

"I want Spitfire brought to justice, but the system is rigged," she finally answered. "If you've got enough bitcreds then you can buy your way out of anything. My mother was convicted and sentenced to a prison farm on Penitence, or Io, or whatever they call it now, even though she never harmed anyone. She only stole from those with excess wealth who could afford to lose what was stolen. When she was caught, she couldn't buy her way out. So yeah, I'm okay with it as long as Spitfire gets what she deserves."

Art glanced at her with a look of what might have been sadness before turning to stare out the forward viewport.

"Welcome to the jungle," he said.

CHAPTER 28

The scene in the penthouse was one of utter pandemonium. Everyone was arguing with each other, but nobody was really listening to what was being said.

Everyone, that is, except me. I was just sitting there and saying nothing. I felt like I was in the eye of the storm. Finally, I'd had enough.

"Hey! I shouted over the din and then whistled. "This is your captain speaking. Everyone shut the 'eff up for Elvis sake!"

That did it. Everyone abruptly ceased talking and stared at me.

"Okay, that's much better. Now, can we please sort this out rationally?"

An unharmonious chorus of affirmations and nods followed.

"Thank you," I told my now silent crew. "Cherry, you go first. You said that Cat was the kidnapper?"

"Yes. Her biometric scan matched Cat's to within 95 percent."

"Why not 100 percent?"

"Human bodies normally change over time. Without mods, prolonged stays in freefall or microgravity cause a person to go taller. Muscular atrophy can also occur. Cat was approximately two centimeters taller, but all of her other metrics matched."

"If it was Cat, then how come you didn't recognize her right away?" John demanded.

"As I was attempting to explain to you, her stealthsuit blocked normal visual and near infrared spectra. My facial recognition occurs in the visible spectrum as it does for you. Identification via radiometric mapping requires another level of analysis and isn't instantaneous. Think of it as a person in a dark room trying to identify someone else by feeling their facial contours."

"Cat would never kidnap Emma," Ellie protested.

"Yeah, it don't make no sense to me," agreed John.

"Let us consider what we know," Lo began. "We know that Madame Dommé went to great lengths to obtain Cat, presumably due to her unique skill set. Cat demonstrated her remarkable abilities to us while we slept. Jan Aradal's kidnapping was Madame Dommé's goal all along, and Cat was merely her means to an end."

"Why would Cat do it?"

"Perhaps she was brainwashed or otherwise coerced. The question we should be attempting to answer is why Madame Dommé would want to kidnap Jan Aradal."

I pulled up the information that Ali had sent me about Madame Dommé on my 'face. They included photos of a very tall, brown-skinned woman with long black hair. Ellie happened to look over my shoulder as I scrolled through the images and her eyes went wide.

"That's the evil woman that was holding me prisoner!" she exclaimed. "Spitfire rescued me from her."

Suddenly, the dots connected for me.

"She must have determined that Jan Aradal was Spitfire," Cherry/Jan suggested. "There are a few very high-ranking officers in the Space Guard who know about Jan's pirate alter-ego."

"Yes, Emma told me that," I agreed. "I suppose it's possible that Madame Dommé had the right connections and was able pry loose Jan's secret."

"So, she wants Jan because Spitfire rescued Ellie from her?" John Hawker asked.

"Spitfire didn't simply rescue Ellie," Cherry/Jan explained. "She left Madame Dommé strapped to a chair in her own private dungeon."

"She wants old-fashioned revenge," I said. The thought of what Madame Dommé might do to Emma was making me sick to my stomach.

"If Cat hasn't left Ceres, then maybe the police can catch her!" Ellie suggested excitedly. "We should tell them."

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," I said.

"Why, Captain Pete?"

"How are we going to explain to them that we know Cat is the kidnapper?" I asked. "We can't very well tell them that Cherry scanned the intruder's biometric profile."

"Even if the police were notified, it is unlikely that Cat would remain on Ceres any longer than necessary. She most likely had accomplices and a candle standing by ready for lift-off," suggested Tuesday.

"Maybe we can intercept 'em like we did _Dumb Luck Bastard_ ," John suggested. "We knows where they's headed."

"Cherry, can you check on all departures since last midnight LMT? If we can identify Cat's candle then maybe Pluto's Children can make another rescue attempt."

"Who's gonna be Spitfire?" John asked.

"I think we've that covered," I said as I looked at Cherry.

CHAPTER 29

Methane plus oxygen plus a suitable ignition source equals an explosion. When controlled in a combustion chamber, it furnished thrust that was ideal for a booster or shuttle engine.

When ignited in a spacious greenhouse, it produced a not overly spectacular explosion that still got the job done. There was a brief flash and that was it. Most of the pine seedlings were burned to a crisp and what was left after the greenhouse's walls disintegrated was exposed to the frigid, and quite lethal, Martian night.

"That should set them back a few months," Yuri said to his companion. "Let's get out of here before the Earthers arrive to investigate."

"They'll probably threaten retaliation again," Josie replied.

"That's all they'll do. They threaten. They need us too badly to actually harm us because there are too few of them. Their occupation force is mostly 'bots."

"Their 'bots can still kill us."

"But they haven't, and they won't. The Earthers want to win our hearts and minds by showing us how they can make a warm, green Mars where you can walk outside without a pressure suit in a few years. There are people who would still like that, but not if it means having to live under A.I. control. They'll join with us if it helps to get rid of the Earthers."

"The Earthers will just rebuild their greenhouse," Josie said as she glanced back to see the remnants of the greenhouse's spindly structural framework crumple.

"Then we'll just blow it up again," Yuri replied to her as they ran together through the darkness across the regolith strewn surface toward the tunnel entrance. The entrance was concealed in an unremarkable location that without his suit's inertial locator would be very difficult to find. To the untrained eye, the entrance was just a bolder among so many others. The special night-vision filters in their pressurized stealthsuits' visors enabled them to see the image of a large fossilized alien-looking leaf on the boulder's surface.

Yuri pushed on the normally invisible fossil imprint three times in rapid succession, and the boulder tilted upward to reveal a meter-diameter vertical shaft.

"After you," he told Josie.

"You're always the chivalrous one," she said jokingly and dove feet-first into the blackness. In Mars's 0.38 g, the drop to the base of the shallow lava tube was quite manageable with their pressure suits' impact-absorbing soles.

Yuri pushed on the fossil imprint again and then dove into the shaft. The boulder swung back downward behind him, sealing the entrance behind them.

Josie was already sprinting down the broad, lightless lava tube toward the parked two-seat rover. She jumped in the driver's seat, followed a few seconds later by Yuri. Josie started the motor, and the rover drove itself in a tight circle before heading back down the tube in the direction they'd come from. For the next forty minutes they sped through the darkness, finally slowing as the rover's radar sensed the apparent cave-in directly ahead of them. Yuri dismounted and walked over to the cave-in, locating a familiar fossilized leaf imprint that he struck three times.

A rover-sized section of the rocky surface swung upward to reveal a passage through the obstruction. Yuri jumped back into the rover and they drove forward. The door closed automatically behind them and they continued for a short distance before rolling to a stop before a bulkhead with a central pressure door that was illuminated by single light above it. Josie punched in a four-digit code on the panel on the right side of the door, and it opened to admit them into the closet-sized airlock.

As they entered the enclosure, illumination panels in the airlock's ceiling gradually increased the level of brightness to Mars' at mid-day. The door behind them closed, the interior lights turned red, and the interior pressure steadily increased until it reached 940 millibars. With atmospheric pressure now equivalent to the pressure on the other side of the airlock, the lights glowed green and the interior door opened.

A pair of figures clad in reactive armor and carrying heavy-duty stunners greeted them. Yuri and Josie both removed their helmets to allow the routine biometric scans. After the guards verified their identity, they were allowed to proceed.

"Josie! Yuri!" shouted a familiar voice as they entered. "You've made the evening news again!"

"Let me guess," Yuri said as he first touched elbows with Mort and then hugged him. "The Greenslayer terrorists, yadda, yadda, yadda."

"You got it. The Earthers think they can win sympathy with their 'casts, but all they're doing is popularizing the resistance. Every time they try to demonize us, we pick up new recruits."

"Yeah, now we just need more hardware to go along with all the new bodies," Josie remarked.

"Well, Hill wants to see you both ASAP. Maybe you can bring it up to her then."

"Any idea what she wants besides a mission debrief?"

"She didn't say, but she sounded like it was pretty serious."

"Gotcha," Yuri said as he finished peeling off his suit. He shoved it in his locker, and then exited the changing room and hurried down the wide central corridor that ran between the offices and barracks of the steadily growing Martian Resistance Movement (or simply 'MRM') that lined the sides of the vast lava tube. The Earther's invasion had spawned the offspring of the once marginalized Greenslayer movement whose members now numbered in the thousands. The Earthers' vision of rapidly terraforming Mars had raised serious concerns among the scientific community about the outcome. Given the Earthers' accelerated approach, Mars might end up warmer and wetter but no more habitable than it was now due to a toxic atmosphere. Make that a potentially corrosive atmosphere based on some projections. Surface settlements would have to be hardened or they'd gradually degrade and casualties from the collapsing domes would be in the millions. To prevent or at least delay that from happening, the 'Greenslayer terrorists' would continue their acts of sabotage.

'Hey, wait up!" Josie shouted from behind him. "Just because you don't care how you stash your stuff doesn't mean I don't either."

"Hey, when the boss wants us we hustle!" Yuri shouted back.

Josie caught up with him and they matched strides. Hill's office was near the far end of the barracks section. There was nothing that distinguished it from so many other modular offices. There was a number on the door. All the doors had numbers. This one read "0101".

Yuri pushed a button to the right of the door that activated a speaker. "Knock, knock," he said.

"Who's there?" was the reply.

"Yuri."

"Yuri who?"

"Yuri going to want to see me."

The door opened. Yuri and Josie stepped inside. A pair of guards wearing reactive armor and armed with stunners greeted them. Again, biometrics verified their identities before they were allowed to proceed.

Module 0101 was actually a collection of four modular offices that had been linked together to form a suite that included a screening room and lobby, conference room, office, and finally, Hill's living quarters.

Hill, short for Hillary St. Cloud, the former (thanks to the Earthers' invasion) actress and media celebrity, was waiting for them in the conference room. She'd been a major behind-the-scenes supporter of Greenslayer from its inception. Now she was the de-facto leader of the MRM.

"Congratulations on another successful mission," she said as she hugged both of them. "I'm glad you're back safe."

"We may have set them back a month, if that long," Yuri replied.

"Anything that delays their efforts buys us more time," Hill replied. "That's especially critical in light of recently gathered intelligence."

Yuri gave Hill a puzzled look and then asked, "What intelligence is that?"

"Have a seat and I'll explain," Hill said to them motioning to the chairs surrounding the rectangular conference table.

Yuri took a seat and Josie plopped down in the chair beside him. Hill remained standing.

"What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. Understand?"

"Understood," they both said more or less in unison.

"I've got some bad news and some good news. Which would you like to hear first?"

"I suppose I'll take the bad news first," Yuri said after a moment's hesitation.

"Okay then. We have reason to believe that the Earthers are attempting to increase Mars' gravitational pull."

"What? But that's crazy! How the 'eff would they ever do that, and why?"

"The 'how' part we learned from one of our informants. The Earthers transported drilling equipment and a cyclotron to Mars and assembled them both in an area just west of Bradbury. The drill has been operating for about two months, but the cyclotron is still under construction. Our question from the beginning was why would they put a drilling platform inside a cyclotron ring? Now we know and the answer isn't good."

"So, what are they doing?" Yuri asked.

"They're using the cyclotron to make stuff called superdense matter. I don't know what it is, but it's supposedly so massive that a few cubic centimeters would weigh a billion tons. Dr. Noah Tall says it like the stuff inside neutron stars. Our informant told us that they plan to gradually drop the stuff through the drill shaft into the planet's core until Mars' gravitational pull is closer to that of old Earth."

"What the 'eff?" If they do that, we'll all be too heavy to move!"

"That's not even the worst part. The stronger gravity will cause Mars to shrink. There'll be 'quakes and all kinds of disasters."

"But why do this?" Josie asked. "Why are they trying to destroy Mars if they want to take it over?"

"Probably because they don't think they're destroying it," Yuri replied. "They want to make another Earth where humans will still fit their definition of what's Human. Don't forget they survived the Fat Lady. What's another cataclysm to them if the end results are what they want?"

"They regard Martians as human," said Josie.

"I think that was just to win us over," Hill suggested. "Anyway, we'll all only get gradually heavier. The Earthers will probably dispense mods to those who cooperate with them to help them adapt. They may even evacuate large numbers to Phobos until Mars is done contracting."

"What will happen to Phobos? Won't it fall if the gravity gets stronger?" asked Josie.

"You're asking the wrong person," Hill replied.

"You said that you had good news," said Yuri. "I hope it involves a way to stop the Earthers."

"It does," said Hill. "We were recently contacted by none other than Jan Aradal, the exiled CEO of Aratek. She said that they have a way to defeat the Earthers and they've asked for our help."

"Help Aratek? They were trying to terraform Mars. Why the 'eff should we help them?" Josie asked.

"Ms. Aradal assured me that Aratek suspended all terraforming efforts prior to the occupation and will not be resuming them following the Earthers' defeat."

"You believe her?" Yuri asked.

"No, I don't," Hill said with a sly grin. "There's an old saying that goes, _'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'_ I'd rather fight Aratek after the Earthers are gone than have to keep fighting the Earthers now. Even if the MRM launched a full scale assault on the cyclotron, our odds of success aren't even close to fifty-fifty. The cyclotron is five stories underground and the drilling platform is heavily defended. We don't have the firepower to take on the Earthers' warbots, so teaming up with Aratek is our best bet."

CHAPTER 30

"I have some good news and some bad news," said Cherry/Jan as she walked back into the penthouse suite's spacious living room where we were all gathered watching the newstream. Since there wasn't any real news coming out of Mars, it was the usual speculative commentary about what the Earthers might be doing now and what they might do next.

"Lemme guess," said John. "You done figured out what candle Cat's ridin' on."

"I'm reasonably sure. A pair of wealthy newlyweds arrived here three days ago on a private yacht. The woman's scan matched Cat's. Their yacht departed at shortly after 4:30 LMT for their 'private asteroid'. Odds are they're really headed for Market."

We all looked at the time. They had almost a seven hour head start.

"Can we intercept them?" I asked John.

"Ah, I think so. They probably didn't head straight for Parkin' Lot to throw off anyone who might be trackin' 'em just like we usually does. If we head straight towards it then we might just catch 'em. What's their candle's handle?"

" _Indulgence_ ", but then there's the bad news. That yacht's a clipper."

"She's probably got at least twice _Orchid's_ delta-v," John said dejectedly. "Ain't no way we'll ever catch 'em."

"What about the Space Guard? Can they intercept it?" I asked.

"If they've got anybody close-by that ain't busy huntin' Earthers, maybe."

"There is still the problem of how we'll explain to the Space Guard that we know Emma is aboard without compromising Cherry's identity," said Lo.

"So what do we do now? We can't just fly back to Market, knock on Madame Dommé's door, and demand that she hand over Emma and Cat," I said.

Well, Jack Parsec might get away with it. He'd have to figure out a way to get back in to Market after having been evicted. Once inside, he'd still need to convince Madame Dommé that it was in her best interests to give him Emma and Cat. Even employing some of the more creative plot devices I'd previously used on _Out to the Void_ , I couldn't come up with anything that worked.

"I foresee another potential problem," Lo said worriedly. "Knowing Jan Aradal is Spitfire gives Madame Dommé tremendous leverage in this situation. There is still a bounty posted for Spitfire's apprehension, although the popular belief is that she perished with the rest of _Revolution's_ crew. If Madame Dommé was to reveal Emma's identity as Spitfire to the newstream, the authorities would have no choice but to try her for high piracy. Despite Jan Aradal's vast personal wealth and political connections, she would ultimately be convicted and sentenced to hard labor on a prison farm on Io."

"What you're saying is that even if we could rescue Emma, Madame Dommé could just pull the plug and Emma would be arrested?"

"It is purely conjectural on my part, but quite possible," Lo continued. "If Madame Dommé's personal attempt at revenge against Spitfire was to be thwarted, then she simply uses the 'Fat Lady Option'. She may have used a similar threat to coerce Cat to cooperate with her, although I'm not aware of any bounty for Black Kitten. There are recorded images of Spitfire from the raid on Market which were obtained by the Space Guard under mysterious circumstances, but no one, save us, knows what Black Kitten really looks like."

"Okay, let's just assume for a moment that you're right," I said. "If that's truly the case, even if we rescued her, Emma would have to totally disappear. Since we were aiding and abetting her escape, we'd all be on the run. We'd have our choice between a one-way trip out to the Oort cloud or a prison camp on Io."

"Not necessarily, Pete. The alternative is to convince Madame Dommé that Emma is not Jan Aradal."

"How do suggest that we do that?"

"I believe that you proposed a solution earlier," Lo said to me as he looked to Cherry.

In that instant the writer in me (albeit currently unemployed thanks to the Earthers) got an idea.

CHAPTER 31

Emma knew that she was in trouble the moment she opened her eyes. She instantly recognized the incredibly tall, brown-skinned woman with long black hair with copper highlights from their previous encounter. That time Spitfire had the upper hand, but that wasn't the case this time.

She tried to move, but broad, snug-fitting bands secured her wrists and ankles to the metal reclining chair. She was nude.

"Turnabout is fair play," Madame Dommé said addressing her helpless prisoner. "Finally, I have my justice, and you have yours. The Interplanetary Commonwealth wouldn't punish Spitfire for her crimes, so I will. "But first, you'll spend some time in the same chair that you left me in until those big Martian muscles of yours aren't such a threat."

"Who is Spitfire?" Emma said, thinking quickly to stay 'in character'. "Where am I? Who are you and why doing this to me?"

At the sound of Emma's thick German accent, Madame Dommé's gleeful expression changed to one of shock and surprise.

"Catherine! Get down here _now_!" she shouted as she barged out of the room, obviously displeased.

Emma looked around. She was in a small room with a stone floor. A large wall 'face that was currently blank adorned the wall directly in front of her.

Madame Dommé returned a few minutes later with the object of her displeasure in tow. An apparently tense conversation was already in progress as they entered the room.

"Just listen to her talk!" Madame Dommé told the lithe copper-haired woman accompanying her. "That is _not_ Jan Aradal."

"Oh, yes she _is_ Aunt Maude," the woman insisted in a voice Emma instantly recognized as Cat's. "My biometric scanner positively identified her. Besides that, if she isn't Jan Aradal, what was she doing sleeping in her penthouse?"

"My husband was summoned by Jan Aradal," Emma interjected. "He has a retainer contract with Aratek to deliver sensitive cargoes and provide other special services on an as-needed basis. Ms. Aradal invited us to stay in her penthouse while she attended to other business."

Madame Dommé looked at Cat in askance.

"Aunt Maude, I swear she's Jan Aradal!" Cat protested. "Why else would Pete have suddenly married a stranger who just happens to look like her?"

"We met at a bar in Tunnel Town," Emma volunteered. "I had just been let go from my crew and was attempting to drown my sorrows at being stuck dirtside on Mars. I saw him looking at me as if he knew me. He came over to my table and introduced himself. I was so excited to meet the real Jack Parsec in person that I let my emotions get the better of me. We sexed that night. He suggested that I should join his crew. I said it might be a problem and he told me it wouldn't be if I was his wife. I was overcome. We were married by Elvis in a private ceremony in a wedding kiosk in the central mall. Who wouldn't want to marry him?"

"Who wouldn't indeed?" Madame Dommé said wearily.

"You put the 'effin biometric scanner in my stealth suit," Cat told Madame Dommé angrily. "I told you that I didn't need it but you installed it anyway so don't go blaming me if it didn't do what it was supposed to do!"

"Catherine, I'm not blaming you. You relied on tech that isn't totally reliable. That's not your fault."

"We'll, I'm still not convinced that she _isn't_ Jan," Cat replied. "Otherwise, why have a 'Jandroid' in your penthouse?"

"That's a good question. Maybe she's off playing pirates again?" Madame Dommé responded.

"Or maybe she's playing Emma," Cat said as she eyed their prisoner.

Emma desperately wanted to tell Cat to go 'eff herself, but she kept her cool. If she was going to get out of this, she was going to have to convince them beyond the shadow of a doubt that she wasn't Jan Aradal. That meant staying 'in character'.

"Please let me go," pleaded Emma.

Madame Dommé looked at Emma with an expression that might have been one of pity.

"Regardless of whether or not you're Jan Aradal, that isn't going to happen. I went to considerable trouble and expense to acquire you, and that makes you my property. My plan was to make Jan Aradal my _domestique_ [9], so while you were asleep I had you prepared accordingly. You see, I expect absolute obedience from my slaves, so I give them an incentive to comply. In your case, I had some special nano injected into your little love button. The nano coated your nerve endings, so now I control what you feel or don't feel 'down there'. I call it a 'joy buzzer'.

Madame Dommé held up her left wrist to show Emma a broad copper bracelet with a row of seven small different-colored jewels.

"Each one of these controls a different level of neural stimulation ranging from intense pain to continuous orgasm," she said as she pointed to the jewels. "I find the levels in between to be most interesting," she said as she touched the blue jewel.

Emma gasped as she felt a pleasant, tingling sensation between her thighs.

"Imagine an itch that can't be scratched," Madame Dommé said to her. "This setting provides stimulation, but not enough to achieve sexual gratification. It just continuously teases and frustrates. Can you imagine just how miserable 'not enough' could feel after a few days? It makes a good punishment, but if an offense is more serious then I'll use this."

She pushed the red jewel. The searing pain that resulted had Emma screaming in agony.

"Whether I decide to keep you or ultimately sell you will depend a lot on you," she told Emma. "You could have a not-too-unpleasant life her with me as my obedient slave, or you could end up being purchased by someone who might just use this bracelet to torture you because they enjoy watching you suffer. You're a real cutie and you'd sell easily at auction even without the 'joy buzzer' implant as a bonus. I was definitely planning on keeping Jan Aradal, but I'm not so sure about someone who might be only a lookalike. So, I suggest you think very long and hard about how you'd prefer to spend the foreseeable future. I'll give you a few weeks to decide. Your chair has openings in the right places for you to relieve yourself and the floor is stone with a drain. The poopbot will take care of your shit and the washbot will clean you up. You'll be constantly monitored and Cat and I will visit you daily. In the meantime, enjoy a little tease and denial."

Once again, Emma felt a pleasant, tingling sensation between her thighs.

[9] do·mes·tique (d  m s-t k ) n. [French, servant, from Old French.] In contemporary usage, a personal slave trained to serve and entertain with conversation, dance, song, and sexual favors.

CHAPTER 32

"Ali, I need a favor from you," I said.

"What is it Pete?" came Ali Kahn's response over my 'face a scant second later.

"I need to borrow your party barge and one of your girls for a little while."

"Wow, there's hardly any light lag on this call. You must be close."

"We're getting close."

"Hey, you helped me get off of Mars when the Earthers were coming. You can use the party barge and all of my girls if you like."

"I just need the one who looks like Jan Aradal."

"Uh, you mean Marla? Sure, but do you mind my asking what you've got in mind?"

I wasn't going to lie to him.

"Ali, Emma's been kidnapped."

"Elvis, that's awful. I'm so sorry. What happened? Do you have any leads?"

"Yes, Cat kidnapped her and she's taking her to Madame Dommé."

"What? Cat did that? This is so totally 'effed up!"

"I really need your help rescuing Emma. You won't be personally involved. You'll make a run out to Parking Lot to pick up an important shipment, only you'll be boarded and commandeered by Pluto's Children. Got it?"

"Uh, I got it Pete," he said after a much longer than light-lag delay. I could tell he wasn't sure about all this.

"It'll be okay," I said. "Aratek will generously compensate you for all your troubles."

"In that case, when do I get boarded?" he replied.

CHAPTER 34

Emma wasn't sure which was worse: the monotony of her strict confinement or the unwanted stimulation which prevented her from sleeping. She could and did use isometrics against the chair's unyielding restraints to combat muscle atrophy. Meditation helped alleviate her 'joy buzzer's' frustrating caress, but only up to a point. Having been 'designed' by her late father to one day be the CEO of an interplanetary supercorp, she had mods which gave her an extremely high pain threshold and allowed her to go for days without sleep. There were limits to what even she could tolerate, and the combination of prolonged sleep deprivation and constant sexual arousal were beginning to take their toll on her.

She estimated that she'd been held captive for at least four days. She judged it based on the number of times that Madame Dommé and/or Cat visited her to feed her. Her 'diet' consisted of liquid meal replacement drinks that they fed to her through a straw.

She could handle the extended confinement, but without sleep the fiendish 'joy buzzer' would eventually destroy her will. When that happened she wouldn't be able to maintain her deception any longer. She would reveal her true identity.

Considering the inevitable outcome, admitting who she was now would at least preserve her sanity. She'd become Madame Dommé's _domestique_ and have to endure the degradation and humiliation that came with that, but at least she'd be still able to think for herself and possibly escape or eventually be rescued. The alternative to that was she'd be auctioned off and end up as some Belter's mindless sex slave.

Her confession would have to be very believable. Just as she'd stayed 'in character' to try to convince her captors that she was Emma Soñador, now she'd have to play the part of a broken and desperate Jan Aradal who'd do or say anything to escape further torment. Once free of the chair, she'd have to play the part of a devoted and obedient slave until the right opportunity presented itself. She'd also have to find a way to escape Madame Dommé's controlling 'joy buzzer'. That meant either stealing the bracelet or removing her implanted nano. She'd have to self-perform a clitoridectomy for the second option to work, and her ability to escape immediately afterward would likely be compromised due to blood loss and shock. No, that would have to be a last resort.

The sound of her cell door opening interrupted her train of thought. Show time had come.

CHAPTER 35

Ali's 'new' shuttle probably had more than a few million kilometers on her when he'd bought her used, but he'd done a good job of remodeling her interior so that she was worthy of her name, _Ali's Party Barge_. He'd converted the passenger compartment into a 'party lounge' that featured a bar, plush seating, a three-dimensional dance space, and private cubicles for conducting business (or sexing). The wrap-around panoramic display was still there, but he'd substituted 'party videos' in place of the usual infomercials.

I wasn't experiencing any of that at the moment. I was sitting behind him in the shuttle's cockpit, gazing out at the void's infinite blackness. We were inside the Belt, but unless you were close to an asteroid you'd have thought you were in deep interplanetary space. Market was ahead of us, but it was still just a sensor image created by a combination of radar and other multi-spectral imaging. We were being guided there by a beacon that would have sounded like random interstellar background noise without our shuttle's cipher.

When we were within ten kilometers of the asteroid, Prissy, our shuttle's pilot, switched the forward viewports to enhanced visual display. Stars and distant galaxies that wouldn't normally have been visible glistened like millions of tiny diamonds in an ocean of deep blue.

Then I noticed that Prissy appeared to be piloting our shuttle in the buff. Maybe Jason's account of _Orchid's_ previous crew wasn't as embellished as I'd imagined.

By now I could see a tiny dark speck ahead of us that gradually grew into a potato-shaped object. As we closed and lined-up our approach vector with one end of the asteroid, I could see that it was rotating on its long axis.

"There it is Pete," Ali said to me.

"No external lights or structures of any kind," I replied. "Looks like a big spinning rock."

"That's the idea. Market is a dark carbonaceous chondrite, so it's not only hard to see but its thick shell prevents any thermal and other emissions from escaping. Any outgoing radio transmissions or 'face communications are intermittent and tight-beamed so they're hard to detect."

"Sounds like you've been reading up on the subject."

"Nah, when you're a resident you get told all this wonderful stuff. I'm just regurgitating it."

"Ah, that's nice to know but it seems we're on a collision course."

"It's all good. Just sit back and relax, we'll be docking in a few."

I watched as the spinning asteroid grew closer. Prissy initiated a roll program that gradually spun us up until our rotation matched that of Market's. The asteroid no longer appeared to be spinning, but we still appeared to be on a collision course. Prissy fired our breaking thrusters as we approached, but it still looked as though we were going to dive nose first into Market.

And then we did impact, except that we passed through the apparently fake surface into the vast marina used by Market's permanent residents to park their private candles and shuttles. Residents didn't have to stop at Parking Lot and ride a shuttle over.

"Neat trick, huh?" Ali asked me. "They told us it's a multispectral hologram, whatever that means. Even fools radar and looks like the real thing until you run into it."

The cavernous cylindrical enclosure bristled with inward jutting docking tubes, one with a blinking green light towards which Prissy guided our shuttle. There were dozens of other shuttles, yachts, and transports docked in the marina, the personal candles of Market's well-to-do permanent residents.

We docked and all immediately disembarked, except for Prissy who remained behind long enough to put on her 'chauffer's uniform'. After seeing it I thought that I understood why she preferred to fly in the buff.

"What's with Prissy's outfit?" I asked Ali.

"I'm usually taking clients and guests out for microgravity parties, Pete. It's a party atmosphere, and her uniform is intended to exemplify that and encourage my guests to let their hair loose."

"Uh, she doesn't mind dressing like _that_?"

"Oh she does, but not for the reason you think. She's a nudist and she prefers going around _au naturel_ whenever she can. For her, clothing is just a sometimes necessary evil.

"Tell it like it is, Boss. Prissy's a freaking exhibitionist," Marla commented to Ali.

"I suppose if I had a body like hers I wouldn't want to hide it either," I said as we dropped onto the platform at the end of the docking tube. I looked back up at Ali's shuttle and noticed the docking arms that had extended outward to cradle it. The ends of the docking tubes were in very low g, but it was enough that the tube alone wasn't relied upon to support the shuttle's mass.

"If you don't mind my asking you, did you all really runaround in the buff all the time on _Orchid_?" I inquired of Marla.

Marla looked at me and laughed.

"I suppose Jason told you that?" she answered.

"How did you ever guess?" I asked jokingly.

"Well, we did go around in our skimpies, but that was because Tinker never could fix the cooling system so that it worked right. Once Jason got on board and everyone was sexing, that's when all the clothing got shed. That was towards the end, though."

" _So there was more truth to the tale,"_ I thought.

"There's no medical checkpoint for residents and their guests, but there is a security guard at the entrance to marina's escalator pod station who just waves you through as long as you're not bringing in anything suspicious looking," Ali informed us as we approached the entrance.

"I don't know how we're gonna pull this off without shootin' irons," John grumbled.

"Relax, John. My friend Roland Hayes has got us covered," Ali reassured him as we walked toward the escalator pods.

Hayes was waiting by the marina's entrance and waved to us like we were all old friends. We passed through the security checkpoint without incident and boarded a pod for the short spiraling ride down to ground level. Ali introduced us along the way.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Soñador," Roland said as we both stretched across the aisle to touch elbows in the pod. "Anyone who doesn't like Maude Deeb is friend of mine."

"Maude Deeb?"

"Oh, that's her real name. She started calling herself 'Madame Dommé' after she murdered Harry. They never could prove it, but I know she did it. Harry Podge was an expert flyer and swimmer, and he was in good health. There's no way he had a seizure and drowned."

We reached ground level and boarded a tram for the ride to the residential section on the far side of the asteroid's interior. We passed through the agricultural section into the commercial district and then out in the garden district with its villas and mansions.

"That's Harry's place over there," Roland said as he pointed toward a palatial three-story villa. "It wasn't that gaudy when it was built, but she talked him into remodeling it."

The tram slowed and let us off barely a kilometer from Madame Dommé's villa at another mansion. This one was a smaller and less ostentatious, but still impressive.

"End of the line, ladies and gents," Roland announced. "My buddies from Market Security should be along shortly."

"Market Security?" I asked becoming obviously worried.

"Yes, they'll help pacify Maude Deeb's bodyguards. They didn't mind some extra-duty work, especially if it means messing with her and getting paid. They'll be disguised as musicians for her kinky party tonight."

"What is we going to be disguised as?" John asked.

"Oh, you're the caterers. Don't worry, you only have the look the part until you get inside."

CHAPTER 36

"The caterers and the musicians just arrived," Art informed Madame Dommé.

"They're early."

"They're not our regulars. There was a conflict with another function and they're substitutes."

"I'm a regular customer, yet they stick me with substitutes. I'll remember this next time I schedule a play party," she said irritably as she got up from her chair. "Show them where to go."

"Yes ma'am."

"Come with me, Catherine," Madame Dommé instructed her niece. "Let's see how our prisoner is doing before our party guests arrive."

Cat followed her aunt to the elevator, and they descended to the private dungeon that adjoined the playspace. They walked down the short hall and entered Emma's cell. Cat immediately noticed that Emma was moaning loudly and struggling against her restraints.

"Please make it stop!" Emma was wailing as she writhed in her chair. "I can't stand this anymore! I'll do whatever you want, but please, oh please make it stop!"

"Are you ready to tell me who you really are?" Madame Dommé asked her. Cat noticed the look of satisfaction on her face as she stood over Emma. Finally, they'd have their justice!

"Yes! I'm Jan Aradal! Now, please make it stop! I'm 'effing begging you!" Emma pleaded.

"I'll make it stop for now, but I'm not convinced that you're not just saying that because you think that's what we want to hear from you," Madame Dommé replied as pushed the green jewel on her bracelet. "I majored in psychology at Bradbury University. You'll have to convince me that you're really Jan Aradal. Tell me about our very first meeting when you were Spitfire. I'm sure you remember what happened then."

Emma started to say something, but then all hell broke loose.

The dungeon level was heavily soundproofed to prevent disturbing guests on the above ground floors, so it wasn't until they heard a dull thud followed by footsteps in the hall beyond her private dungeon that Madame Dommé realized something was wrong.

The door separating her play space from her private dungeon disintegrated in a hail of autorifle fire. A few moments later the lead intruder stood at the open cell door, her stunner leveled at Madame Dommé.

"Remember me?" she asked. She looked thinner and her skin was paler than when Madame Dommé had last confronted her under nearly identical circumstances, but the flaming red hair and flashing emerald green eyes were still the same. Her gray jumpsuit bore a familiar skull-and-thunderbolt insignia.

"Spitfire," Madame Dommé muttered in disbelief.

"No, it's a trick!" Cat shouted. "It's just the 'Jandroid' that I stunned in the penthouse. She's changed her appearance."

Spitfire gave Cat a puzzled look, and then she motioned to someone behind her.

The woman stepped forward. She looked a tiny bit shorter but a maybe slightly more muscular than Spitfire. Her facial features were for all purposes identical, but her hair was black and her eyes blue.

"Hi Cat," she said. "I wish that you hadn't used your stunner on me. It really messed me up and it took awhile for me to recover my memories."

"But . . . this doesn't make sense," Cat blurted as she stared in disbelief at Spitfire and the Jan android.

"Oh, it does if you think about it," Spitfire replied. "Why else would the famous Captain Peter Soñador abruptly call off his marriage to Jan Aradal? He figured out his fiancée was really an android. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut or Aratek would have had to terminate his cushy contract."

"The android's biometrics matched Emma's. How do you explain that?" Cat demanded.

"Emma and I were both designer babies, just like _you_ Cat," Spitfire said grinning. "My father picked a popular female 'model' out of a catalog that would have traits highly desirable for a future CEO of an interplanetary supercorp – or a ruthless pirate captain. There's really not much difference if you think about it, but I prefer an honest profession that's personally more rewarding to a deceitful one."

"So, you're suggesting Captain Pete just married the first girl that came along who just happened to be the same 'model' as you?" Cat asked Spitfire. "That's kind of a hard pill to swallow."

"Oh, it isn't if he ordered her on one of his visits to Market," Spitfire answered. "He would have had the bitcreds for a designer clone thanks to Aratek. Or maybe he just found her on some dating nexus.

"We met in a bar," Emma interjected, although nobody seemed to be listening to her.

"I don't really give an 'eff how he got her, but I'm just flattered that he wanted someone who at least looked like me," Spitfire continued. "Now, time is short and this is all getting too talky-talky. I need you to give me the girl in the chair. You can comply and you'll only be stunned. Otherwise, you won't wake up."

"What's she to you?" demanded Madame Dommé.

"She settles a debt, that's all. I'm guessing Cat knows what I'm talking about. Now, give her to me the easy way and nobody gets hurt. Or maybe you'd like to take her place in the chair? You seemed to have lucked out last time I put you in it."

Madame Dommé reluctantly released the restraints that held Emma to the chair. Her now former prisoner got up slowly, weakened from her long days of confinement, and staggered toward her liberators.

"Bracelet," she managed to utter. "Get her 'effing bracelet!"

Madame Dommé instinctively put her hand to her wrist, but one of the hooded pirates dashed forward and jerked off the control bracelet. Another hooded pirate emerged from behind Spitfire and, wrapping a blanket around Emma, withdrew her back into the hallway.

"You're truly evil," Madame Dommé sneered at Spitfire.

"Oh, is that so? Then we're obviously two of a kind," Spitfire replied as she pulled the trigger on her stunner.

CHAPTER 37

Cat decided that waking up from a stun blast was about like waking up with a bad hangover. The big difference was that a pill could cure a hangover.

She sat up slowly in her bunk, fighting off waves of nausea. The curving walls and low g were a sure sign that she was on a candle in flight, and judging from the slightness of the wall's curvature it was larger than _Orchid_. She appeared to be in a small, private stateroom. She swung her legs over to put her feet down, and noticed the shackle on her right ankle. She could get out of that without difficulty, but it was probably not a good idea until she had an idea of the pirates' intentions.

The door to her stateroom abruptly opened and a familiar face peeked in.

"Awake finally?" Tuesday asked. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone who was stunned," Cat answered. "Since when are you a member of Pluto's Children?"

"I am not a member of Pluto's Children," Tuesday explained as she entered the room. "Captain Spitfire agreed to facilitate Emma's rescue. We posed as her crewmembers to assist."

"What about Aunt Maude?"

"Who is Aunt Maude?" Tuesday asked as she pulled a fold-down seat from the opposite wall and sat down.

"Okay, Madame Dommé then."

"Oh, we left her in her favorite chair. Since when is she your aunt, Cat?"

"She had our DNA tested after I was poisoned by a neurotoxin that was meant just for her. That's how I know."

"Really? That is very interesting. How exactly did you encounter the neurotoxin?"

"I was in her guest closet picking out something to wear. It was on a jumpsuit that I handled."

"The jumpsuit was your size?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Madame Dommé is much taller than you. Why would a neurotoxin intended for Madame Dommé have been applied to a jumpsuit hanging in her guest closet that was not her size?"

Cat didn't have a response to that. She'd never thought about it.

"Did Madame Dommé show you the results of the DNA test?"

"No, she didn't."

"Do you not find it odd that, despite a significant difference in stature and other anatomical features, you are supposedly her niece?"

"I know what you're getting at, but she really cares about me. She even tried to get my mother – her half sister – released from the prison farm on Io, only she was too late."

"Why was she too late?"

"My mother's dead."

"Cat, we believe that your mother is still alive," Tuesday explained. "The records we found indicated that she escaped shortly after she was incarcerated. Madame Dommé obviously lied to you and manipulated you."

Cat sat silently on her bunk pondering what Tuesday had just told her.

"If Madame Dommé isn't really my aunt, then who is she?" she asked hesitantly.

"My father conducted extensive research with assistance from Aratek and Ali Kahn," Tuesday answered. "Madame Dommé's real name is Maude Deeb, and she's a clever con artist. She attended Bradbury University and studied psychology and chemistry, but she never graduated. She was originally brought to Market nine years ago from Mars as a slave. She apparently persuaded the owner of the Toy Store to keep her as his personal _domestique_ , then next freeing her, and ultimately marrying her. Shortly after that the owner died after having a seizure and then drowning in their villa's swimming pool. Maude was reportedly away at the time and only conveniently discovered him after resuscitation or reanimation was no longer an option."

"I guess I've been conned again," Cat said as she angrily jerked her right leg against her ankle chain. "First it was Pete, then Jason, and now Maude. I guess I must have 'sucker' all written over me."

She started sobbing. Tuesday went and sat beside her on the bunk and put her arm around her.

"Cat, Pete never conned you, and neither did Jason. They both cared about you. Pete still cares about you. That is why he insisted we bring you along."

"If he cared about me so much, then why didn't he marry me when I asked him?" she demanded.

"He was not ready, Cat. His world had been turned upside down and he was living out a fantasy. One day he was a struggling writer and the next he was the captain of an independent space vessel. It was too much, too soon for him."

"You're saying that if I'd waited longer he would have married me?"

"It is dangerous to attempt to accurately predict the outcome of complex probability systems," Tuesday replied. "There are too many unknown variables. Regardless, I do believe that if you had waited longer that the probability of him accepting your proposal would have been greater. I would advise against dwelling on pointless 'what-might-have-been' scenarios. You can't change the past, but you can affect your future."

"So you think I rush things too much."

"I am suggesting that you are attempting to fill an emotional void that was created when your mother was apprehended and taken away from you. You need to feel wanted and loved as we all do, and your mother's abrupt removal from your life in your teenage years when you were still developing emotionally created the void."

"I didn't know that you were a shrink, Tuesday."

"If you are inferring that I am a psychiatrist then you are seriously mistaken. In my profession an understanding of human motivation is very useful. I applied my knowledge to your situation. My prognosis may not be entirely accurate."

"No, I think you're probably on target," Cat said hugging Tuesday back and wiping her tears away.

"Cat, we all care about you. You were and will always be a member of our crew. You are like family to us."

"So, does that mean I'm still a prisoner?" she said raising her chained ankle and wiggling her toes.

"Oh, I would have thought the infamous Black Kitten could easily escape from such a basic restraint," Tuesday replied.

Cat looked at Tuesday and grinned, then turned her back to her as she did something to her ankle out of Tuesday's vision. A few moments later the open shackle clattered to the deck.

"My mother taught me that an escape artist isn't supposed to reveal her secrets," she explained. "Otherwise, it spoils the illusion."

"Your restraint was real. Your escape was no illusionist's deception," Tuesday argued.

"No, the illusion was that I was restrained to begin with," Cat replied.

"That's impressive, but I recommend that you remain in your stateroom. Captain Spitfire does not want you roaming freely aboard _Revolution_."

"This is _Revolution_? Nice candle, but I thought it was destroyed."

"The original _Revolution_ was destroyed after Spitfire's crew mutinied, so she appropriated another candle from Aratek's fleet and started over. Her screening process for crew members was much more rigorous the second time around."

"How come we haven't heard about Spitfire on the newstream?" Cat asked.

"She has been keeping a low profile up until now. She went to Clandestine where she recruited additional crew, but then the Earther's attack forced a change of plans. She and a number of other pirates were granted letters of marquee[10] by the Commonwealth and took to harassing Earther candles."

"She's like a legal pirate?"

"Yes, she will likely receive a full pardon for her earlier crimes if she continues to hunt and destroy Earther candles."

"She said something about settling a debt. She acted like I'd know what she was talking about."

"She does not like feeling indebted to Captain Pete for her rescue, even though Aratek paid a retainer fee for his services in return. Now she says they are even."

"I suppose Pete and the rest of the crew are pretty mad at me for kidnapping Emma."

"No, they understand that you were deceived by Maude Deeb."

"What about Emma? Will she be okay?"

"She has been through quite an ordeal, but she will physically recover from her confinement quickly. Her psychological well-being is another matter. That could take much longer or require treatment."

"I'm so sorry I caused all this," Cat said hanging her head. "I really thought Emma was Jan Aradal."

"We all know that and we all forgive you."

"Even Emma?"

"I would give her time. She is still recovering. In the meantime, may I obtain something from the galley for you?"

"Something for my head," Cat replied. "That stun blast gave me a monster headache."

"The effects should wear off before much longer, but I will ask Ellie to bring you something to relieve your discomfort," Tuesday said as she got up from the bunk and walked towards the door. "Rest for now. We will be back on Ceres soon."

[10] A license to fit out an armed vessel and use it in the capture of enemy merchant shipping and to commit acts that would otherwise have constituted piracy.

CHAPTER 38

I was waiting for Tuesday outside of Cat's stateroom. I waited until the door was shut and then motioned for her to follow me away from the door.

"Did she buy into it?" I asked her.

"If your question is intended to ascertain if Cat has been convinced that Emma is not Jan, then the answer is 'yes', Captain Pete."

"Tuesday, why do you always have to talk like a Vulcan?" I asked her.

"What is a Vulcan?"

"Never mind," I said. There were times when being a history buff wasn't advantageous.

"Captain Pete, I must advise you that I object to this deception," Tuesday said as we walked. "If Cat is a member of our crew, then she should be considered trustworthy and provided with accurate information."

"Tuesday, you know I've always liked Cat but, given recent events, I can't trust her. I don't know what all Maude Deeb did to her, but she must have messed with Cat's head to get her to do what she did. What you just told Cat is consistent with what was fed to Accustream. The whole Sol System will know that Emma isn't Spitfire or Jan. Cat needs to believe that as well, at least for the time being."

"Are you suggesting that the ends justify the means, Captain Pete? That has implications which have been previously demonstrated to be morally flawed."

"No I'm not, Tuesday," I answered her. "I'm suggesting that the means can help to determine a desirable outcome, which is what I'm all about right now."

CHAPTER 39

Emma was still sleeping, and I decided to join her since it was after 2300 hours candle time and I was tired. I disrobed and crawled into the bunk beside her. It was so good to feel my wife's warm body next to mine again, and I quickly dosed off to sleep.

I was awakened by the sound of her screaming. She was failing away next to me against some invisible threat.

"Emma!" I said as I gently shook her. "You're having a nightmare! Wake up!"

Her eyes flew open and she looked at me as if she didn't recognize me at first in our stateroom's twilight level illumination. Then she put her arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"Please tell me you're real," she whispered to me.

"I'm real. You're with me and you're safe."

"I thought I would never see you again," she said as she continued to hug me tightly. "I was sure that evil bitch was going to keep torturing me until I was half insane."

"It's over with now," I said reassuringly. "She'll never harm you again."

"How can you be so sure? She found out that Jan Aradal is Spitfire, and others know as well. I thought I could trust them to keep my secret, but that was a mistake."

"It doesn't matter what they thought they knew because the whole Sol System now knows that Emma Soñador is definitely not Jan Aradal or Spitfire."

"How do you know?"

"Why don't you let me explain this to you over breakfast," I said glancing at the time. "You've been asleep for close to fifty hours and I'll bet you could use some real food about now. _Revolution_ has an excellent galley."

" _Revolution_?" My old candle?"

"Not the same one," I explained as I helped her out of our bunk. We got dressed and then made our way up to the galley, which unlike _Orchid's_ cozy niche occupied an entire deck and featured multiple tables and an autochef.

"This is one of my clippers," Emma said as she looked around the cylindrical enclosure.

"Actually, it _was_ one of Aratek's clippers. Now it's a privateer crewed by Pluto's Children and commanded by Captain Spitfire."

"I guess I'm having something of an identity crisis," Emma said with a frown as we sat down at an empty table near the galley's large wall 'face.

"Emma, you're my wife," I said as I looked straight at her. "You're a spacer from the settlement on the asteroid Sigyn, remember?"

"Then who is Spitfire?" she asked.

"It's Cherry. Let me show you," I said as I called up a certain recent news story on the galley's wall 'face.

The 'face suddenly displayed the Accustream News Service logo accompanied by an enthusiastic, disembodied female voice.

"We have some good news to report for a change," the announcer said gleefully as recorded footage replaced the logo. "Accustream has learned that Emma Soñador, the wife of famed freetrader Peter Soñador who was abducted eight days ago, has been safely rescued by none other than the former pirate known as Spitfire. In a daring raid on the secret lair of the notorious human trafficker, Madame Dommé, Captain Spitfire and her crew freed Emma Soñador and returned her safely to her husband."

The vivid accompanying footage, which was apparently recorded by either an implant or a wearable, showed flaming haired Spitfire and her hooded escorts rescuing Emma and wrapping her in a blanket. In the footage, both Spitfire's and Emma's faces were clearly visible.

"Spitfire informed us that she has a message for the Earthers," the announcer continued.

The screen suddenly displayed the familiar scull-and-thunderbolt symbol adopted by Pluto's Children which dissolved into an image of red-haired Spitfire standing in front of a starfield background.

"Attention Earthers!" Spitfire announced in a harsh voice. "You have invaded a sovereign world and attempted to impose your unlawful rule upon its inhabitants. You should know that if your candles venture beyond Mars orbit, _Revolution_ and her sister candles will be waiting for you and we will hunt you down and vaporize you!"

The camera closed in on Spitfire's face as she spoke until her image dissolved and was replaced by the scull-and-thunderbolt symbol.

"There you have it," said the announcer. "Spitfire has declared war on the Earthers!"

"That sounded more like a dare," Emma said to me as I switched off the 'face.

"That's the idea. We're hoping that the A.I.'s Schwätzer ego won't tolerate being threatened and will dispatch candles to answer the challenge. Only when they do, the Space Guard will be waiting for them."

"The other point of the 'cast was to show that you and Spitfire are obviously not the same person," I continued. "Anyone who either knows or suspects Jan Aradal is Spitfire won't think that you're Jan, either. You've no more worries about that."

"That was clever, Pete. I'm glad that Jack Parsec came through for me again."

"I got the idea from one of my dad's antique comic books," I replied, ignoring the 'Jack Parsec' reference. "He had a collection from the mid-twentieth century passed down from generation to generation that's on display at Sagan City Museum. The collection is so old that that it has to be kept in a special inert display case. The individual comic books were scanned so that you can read them on a 'face. There was one about a character with fantastic abilities who wore a costume but had a secret identity where he looked just like a normal person. Some woman suspected that he and his alter-ego were the same person, so he cooked up this scheme where she saw him and his secret identity together."

"Impressive, but who was the Jan android if Cherry was Spitfire?"

"That was Marla, one of Ali's girls. We transported her from Mars to Market on _Orchid_ , remember?"

"Yes, now that you mentioned it. I still don't how you ever got into Market in first place and especially with weapons."

"We had help," I explained. "Madame Dommé has made a lot of enemies who would just as soon see her go ten toes up. Ali told me that Roland Hayes was a good friend of her late husband and believes that she was behind his death. Roland helped Ali smuggle us in through the marina and convinced Market Security to go along with our plan. The only real weapon we had was a stunner that we borrowed from Market Security with Hayes' assistance. Our autorifles were just props that looked and sounded real, and we had some harmless pyrotechnics to make the effects realistic. We also had off-duty Market Security disguised as Pluto's Children that helped us break into Madame Dommé's villa and subdue her security guards. Nobody got hurt, you got rescued, and Madame Dommé got a 'black eye' in the process."

"Wow. Market Security let you do all _that_?"

"Oh, more than a few bitcreds changed hands in the process," I replied.

"Yes, it seems that everyone has their price," Emma commented under her breath.

"We came here to get some solid food in you, so let's do that," I suggested as I walked over to the autochef. "Ellie recommends that you start with something easy to digest and avoid high-fiber foods. How about a bannapple puree? If that stays down okay then we'll move on to rabbit sausage."

"Pete, there's I need to talk to you about," Emma said as she looked around the empty galley.

"What is it?" I asked as I fixed myself a coffee.

"It's personal."

"We'll, we're alone unless you want to wait until we're back in our stateroom."

"No, I need to tell you this now." Emma said to me with urgency in her voice as I sat back down at our table. "When I was Madame Dommé's prisoner, she did something to me. Something really terrible."

"What did she do to you?" I demanded as I became increasingly alarmed.

"She injected nano in my . . . you know, down there. The stuff coated my nerve endings, so now I can't feel anything unless her 'effing bracelet turns me on."

"You mean this thing?" I asked as I reached into my pocket and withdrew the bracelet that we'd removed from Madame Dommé wrist.

"That's it!" Emma shouted. "Whatever you do, don't push the red, orange, or yellow jewels."

"What do they do?"

"They're pain stimulators. The red one is the worst. She only used it on me once for a few seconds, but it was so intense that I almost passed out."

"Ouch! What about the other colors?"

"Green is the off button. Blue is tease, indigo is hot sexing, and violet is like a continuous orgasm. She mostly used blue on me."

"Elvis, she really is one evil witch," I said as I examined the bracelet. "Now I wish we'd done more to her than just locking her in own chair, but Market Security wouldn't have let us harm her."

"Pete, do you think they can get the 'effing nano out of me?" Emma asked. "I don't to spend the rest of my life like this."

"I'll ask Ellie what she thinks, but I'm sure there's a way to get it out. In the mean time I'll see if Phineas can figure out a way to disable the pain settings."

"Why disable just the pain settings?"

"Well, I figured you'd still want to enjoy sexing with your husband," I said with a grin as I pressed the blue jewel.

Emma's eyes went wide and she gasped.

"Oh, you are one _very_ naughty boy, Peter Soñador," she said huskily as she got up from the table and grabbed me by my wrist. "I think we should just skip breakfast for now and go back to our stateroom."

CHAPTER 40

As the de-facto capitol of the Belt, Ceres has medical facilities that rival those on Mars. Vesta was a close second and might have been the Belt's crowning jewel if history had taken a slightly different path. Both asteroids were financial centers, but Ceres had edged out Vesta as the place to do the big deals. At least it had for now.

We hadn't been on the big asteroid long when Emma paid a visit to Dr. Jane Fondal, a top-notch nanosurgeon specializing in sexual enhancement procedures to whom she was referred. Normally that meant implanting nano 'down there', but it made sense that she'd also know how to remove it.

Dr. Fondal's report following Emma's examination was disturbing. The nano which had been injected in her was apparently an aggressive strain with a rudimentary _gestalt_ intelligence that was programmed with a 'fight-or-flight' response if threatened. Should an attempt be made to remove it, it would likely migrate to a vital organ with potentially fatal consequences. The two viable options were a rapid clitoridectomy without the use of anesthesia to prevent tipping-off the nano, or a counter-nano infusion which would seek out and destroy Madame Dommé's invasive nano. Both options had a fifty-percent chance of success, which wasn't very encouraging to me.

I liked odds that were solidly in my favor. Blame my mathematician mother for that. It wasn't my decision to make, however. Emma would have to decide. I'd tell her what I thought if she asked me and I'd support whatever decision she made.

As much as I was concerned about some malicious invasive nano that was 'effing up my wife's and my lives, I also knew that we had something looming before us that would potentially determine the human race's future. That meant I'd have to put-off any plans to return to Market and do a 'Jack Parsec' number on Madame Dommé. Okay, well maybe not good-guy Jack Parsec but his early-episode arch-nemesis, the malevolent Empress Smegma. Or better yet, just watch Emma do her Spitfire routine on Madame Dommé again with no holds barred. Yeah, now that would certainly be satisfying for both of us.

Not helping the situation was Emma not being able to handle the control bracelet. When she started to pick it up she got a violent shock 'down there'. Apparently, Madame Dommé had intended this as an anti-theft device to prevent her from attempting to steal it.

Emma didn't like not being 'in control', and her present status caused her serious anxiety and depression. She threw a hysterical fit when she discovered she couldn't handle the bracelet. The Emma/Jan/Spitfire I knew was always calm and rational. This one cried and threw things, and in Ceres' ultra-low g her projectiles flew straight and true until they impacted on our suite's walls and windows. Good thing they were just throw pillows, sandals, and half-empty sippy boxes or they might have done some real damage.

"I can't live like this!" she yelled. "I can't live like an 'effing remote-control brothel slave! I want this 'effing shit out of me!"

"Emma . . . _Jan_!" I shouted. "Get a grip on yourself! Dr. Fondal will figure out a way to remove the nano."

"What if she can't, Pete? I guess I'll be your own personal sexbot for the rest of my life. Just push the little blue jewel and you'll have instant horny Emma. Sounds like the ultimate hetro male sexual fantasy come true to me."

"I won't use the bracelet unless you're in the mood."

"Well, then I guess you'll be celibate because unless you use the 'effing bracelet I'll _never_ be in the mood! I can't feel aroused unless you push my button, get it?" she shouted.

Emma stormed out of our suite. I felt like we'd just had our first fight as a married couple and I didn't understand what I'd said that had made her angry.

"It's them darn hormones," was the explanation that John gave me a short time later over beers. Emma had literally flown the coup and was soaring around the dome, leaving me to the company of John, Ellie, Lo, and John Hawker. Tuesday was visiting with Cat in her suite.

"It's more likely a side effect of the nano," Ellie suggested. "The peripheral nervous system is connected to brain, so the nano have a direct conduit."

"Are you suggesting the stuff has migrated into her brain?" I asked Ellie worriedly.

"No, but it could be doing more than sending pain and pleasure signals. We don't know what all that evil woman put in it."

"Now you've got me worried."

"I'm sorry, Cap'n Pete. I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's okay," I said as I gazed out of our suite's windows into the big dome. Every so often the network of lights that ringed its interior would illuminate something that appeared to be soaring and diving like some ancient raptor from old Earth. The majority of tourists and even many residents flapped and paddled their way through the air in the ultra-low g, but this figure flew. Emma's athleticism and swimming abilities readily translated into flying skills inside the pressurized dome, and she gracefully looped and swooped like the falcon that she'd had tattooed on her neck.

"Damn she's good," John said noticing the object of my attention.

"Yes, she is," I replied admiringly.

Abruptly Emma rushed toward us, going into a loop as she approached and then using her webbed flying mitts to break her speed so that she descended gracefully onto the extended ledge.

She touched the window with her palm and an oval orifice opened to admit her. She walked in looking lithe and sleek in her competition-grade flying suit.

"I'd like to apologize to all of you for my recent behavior," she said to us as she peeled off her goggles. "I've not been myself lately."

"It is perfectly understandable under the circumstances," said Lo. "There is no need for you to apologize. We understand what you have been going through."

"I appreciate you saying that, Lo. Thank you all. Now, if you don't mind I need some alone time with my husband."

I wasn't sure what to expect as my crew filed out of the room. John, who was the last one out the door, winked at me.

"Come here Pete," Emma said. She motioned for me to sit beside her on the couch as she discarded her flying mitts and booties.

"Look, I'm sorry . . ." I started to apologize. I wasn't sure what I was apologizing for, but I figured it was probably the best thing to do.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry about," she said as she snuggled up beside me. "You did nothing wrong. I let Madame Dommé 'eff with my brain. I'm done with that. She has no power over me. Anyway, I have more important things to worry about. We've got to get to Bradbury and retrieve Project 42 before the Earthers stumble across it."

"I didn't think they knew anything about Project 42."

"They didn't and hopefully they still don't, but they'll be looking to upgrade their tech so that they can extend their control of the Sol System beyond Mars' orbit. They're bound to find Cold Storage sooner or later. The facility is designed to self-destruct if Sentry is breached, and if that happens then we'll lose our best chance of defeating the Earthers."

"Then I guess we'd better get a move on," I said as I started to get up from the couch. Emma grabbed me by my forearm and pulled me back down.

"Not so fast," she said. "I've always found that a good workout puts me in the mood. Now, be a good husband and go fetch your bracelet while I slip out of this flying suit."

CHAPTER 41

I've said before that the void is truly vast beyond human comprehension. Detecting objects in that unimaginable vastness presents a challenge, but not one that is insurmountable. Primitive humans did a decent job using just visible light. Then humans invented radar, infra-red and gravimetric sensors, and ultimately multi-spectral sensors and quantum radar that can detect an approaching candle hundreds of thousands of kilometers distant. Candles aren't very stealthy. The power plant's magnetic containment field, combined with the heat from the rocket exhaust and radiators, will cause a candle to stand out like a sore thumb against the emptiness.

Stealth technology isn't a new idea, either. However, stealth is a steadily moving target so today's miracle cloaking device rapidly becomes yesterday's easily detected camouflage. Before the Earther invasion, Aratek had developed something they called 'cold light' that they were very proud of because it supposedly masked all emissions. Well, maybe not gravimetric because even if you're totally invisible across the electromagnetic spectrum you supposedly still leave a 'footprint' in the fabric of spacetime like an invisible man leaving footprints in sand. At least that was the way Phineas attempted to explain it to me. Hopefully, our 'footprint' would be so small that we wouldn't be noticed.

At Jan (Cherry/Spitfire) Aradal's insistence, Aratek was 'loaning' us their newest pride and joy, the AMX-S, for our clandestine mission to Mars. Rechristened _Retribution_ and emblazoned with the fearsome skull-and-thunderbolt symbol of Pluto's Children, the armed torch would ferry us to our home planet and (hopefully) back safely.

Outwardly _Retribution_ didn't look much different from the AMX-1 that had transported Phineas when he was seriously ill from Io back to Mars, but the anti-matter fueled candle was equipped with the revolutionary (but still untested in actual combat) cold light technology. Our plan was to use cold light to get inside the Earther's orbital defense perimeter without being detected.

The other impressive thing about _Retribution_ was that it could have gotten us to Mars in less than a day, but the constant acceleration of over one g would have left us in no shape for much of anything when we arrived. Given those circumstances, our flight was limited to a constant Mars' normal 0.38 g acceleration and deceleration. Regardless, we still covered the distance in a fraction of the time that dear ol' _Orchid_ would have needed.

We were accompanied on our flight by a small, elite contingent of Black Thunder mercenaries commanded by my old buddy, Gregg Stone. We'd also have help from the Martian Resistance Movement, 'MRM' for short, who 'Jan Aradal' had contacted. Cherry/Spitfire informed us that the MRM had grown out of the old Greenslayer movement, although the bulk of its new members joined to fight the Earthers rather than stop terraforming.

I found it amazing that Aratek and Greenslayer, once bitter adversaries, would cooperate to defeat the Earthers. Cherry/Spitfire explained to me that it had taken a major concession from Aratek to get them on board.

"I agreed that if they helped us to defeat the Earthers then we'd cease all efforts at further terraforming," she told me.

"Why would Jan Aradal agree to that?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Because most people don't seem to care if Mars is terraformed anymore," Cherry/Jan replied.

"Terraforming was a dream of the early colonists who'd actually lived on Earth. Only a tiny fraction of the population is still advocating for terraforming, and they're mostly late comers who managed to immigrate before the war."

"Think about it Pete," she continued. "Do you really care if Mars is ever terraformed?"

I paused and thought about it. I'd always supposed it was a good idea, but then I'd grown up living inside domes and tunnels and that all seemed perfectly normal. The idea of walking around outside on Mars without a pressure suit didn't seem so normal. Since I'd become a spacer, I cared even less.

"So why did Aratek and Exodyne continue terraforming if only a few want it?" I asked her.

"Follow the money. The terraforming contract was worth a lot of bitcreds. People got rich because of it. I seriously doubt that there'll be any funds available after the war because there'll be other more pressing needs. Some people will get rich because of those as well."

"It sounds like you really didn't give up anything."

"As Lo would say, it made a good bargaining chip."

Speaking of Lo, we'd left him behind on Ceres along with John, Ellie, Phineas, and John Hawker. John had protested, but minor complications with Ellie's pregnancy had sidelined her and I'd managed to convince him that as a father-to-be he needed to stay with her. Tuesday was included in our team because of her formidable martial arts skills. Emma had to go because her biometrics were needed to get passed Sentry.

I was going because of Emma. Well, I suppose that I was also the 'REAL Jack Parsec', if that made any difference.

Then there was Cat. I'd reluctantly agreed to allow her to accompany us because her skill set might come in handy – and because I wanted to keep an eye on her. This necessitated a much-delayed confrontation between Emma and Cat. Tuesday stayed in the stateroom with them during their reunion to prevent things from turning violent, but otherwise remained aloof. Despite the closed door, I could still hear loud talking and even some shouting followed by lots of crying. When the door finally opened they exited together, hugging and teary-eyed.

Even with Cat and Emma back on social terms, we all still had to maintain the deception that Cherry was Spitfire. That meant Cherry had to reset her default form to Spitfire in the event she was accidently deactivated.

Cat avoided Spitfire, which was just as well because I didn't think she'd ever forgive her for stranding us with an almost empty fuel tank and a busted radio. Cherry/Spitfire told me that they did have one rather tense moment when they'd accidently met in the galley.

"You got something you want to say to me?" Cat had demanded as they faced each other.

"Just some advice," Spitfire replied calmly. "Holding on to a grudge isn't healthy. Neither one of us can change what happened in the past."

"That's easy for you to say."

"Would it make you feel better if I said I was sorry for boarding your candle and leaving you stranded? That was a mistake on my part that I have paid for ever since."

"Paid for? Wow, that's funny. How the 'eff did you ever pay for anything? The only thing you paid was a bunch of bitcreds to avoid being arrested. You should be sweating to death in a prison farm on Io."

"Would my being incarcerated make you happy, Cat?"

"I'll be happy when you're no longer wasting oxygen, _Jan_."

"We'll, if our mission fails and we're captured then I suppose you'll get your wish," Spitfire replied and walked away.

There was a good chance that some or all of us might not return. We didn't dwell on that aspect. Like some real-life episode of _Out to the Void_ , we were on a mission to save Mars, and perhaps the Sol System, from the Earthers.

Each hour brought us closer and closer to Mars. We'd been decelerating now for some time to rendezvous with the red planet, although our arrival wouldn't be typical. We'd be coming in on a 'hot entry', using Mars' thin atmosphere to help us aerobrake much like early spacecraft. The idea was to make us look like so much space junk entering the atmosphere, since cold light didn't mask sound. To survive the searing temperatures generated as we plunged at high speed into the thin atmosphere, one side of _Retribution_ had been coated with a special sacrificial ablative that would burn off as we descended and take the heat with it. We'd also be using drogue chutes to slow us down so that we could delay firing our methane and liquid oxygen boosters until the very last moment when we were below the reach of ground-based sensors.

I remembered how terrified I was the first time John and I had lifted from Mars in _Orchid_. That experience paled in comparison with an unpowered, aerobraking descent. Our atmospheric entry at high speed was a bumpy, bone jarring, teeth-rattling experience, as well as uncomfortably warm. Even stoic Gregg Stone closed his eyes and clinched his teeth as we plummeted like a meteor into the Martian atmosphere. I knew that he did because I was watching him and everyone else that I could see from my bunk. I was strangely calm, as if I was ready to accept us burning up in the atmosphere or plowing into Mars. Maybe I just wasn't worried because the fatalist in me would accept whatever happened. Or maybe I just trusted Cherry/Spitfire to get us down safely in one piece.

CHAPTER 42

"Looks like more space junk coming in," said Mort as he gazed into the Martian night sky and noted the fiery streak that rapidly faded as it descended toward them. "Looks like it's going to hit close to us."

"No, it's probably our guests arriving," Yuri replied as he glanced at the time.

"They must have been intercepted coming in. They burned up," Josie remarked.

"Uh, uh, it just supposed to look that way," Yuri explained. "If they set down on target then they should be less than a kilometer away."

A cloud of dust, invisible in the darkness but noticeable in their visors' multispectral displays, enveloped them and then gradually subsided.

"I'd say they've dusted," suggested Josie.

They waited by their parked bus in the darkness, counting the minutes. Yuri used the enhanced zoom feature on his visor to scan the horizon. Abruptly, a dozen pressure-suited figures materialized in his display as if from out of nowhere.

"Whoa!" Mort exclaimed. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah," Yuri acknowledged as he studied the group. "Let's make sure they're our guests and not Earthers before we get too friendly with them. Rifles up!"

The trio raised their autorifles and pointed them at the visitors.

"That's close enough," announced Yuri over his radio as their visitors approached within ten meters. "Stop and identify yourselves."

The group halted, which gave Yuri some assurance since his message had been transmitted on a frequency that only their guests should have been monitoring.

"Captain Spitfire of _Retribution_ ," replied a pressure-suited figure taking a half-step forward. "Pluto's Children thank you for your hospitality."

"It's them," Yuri said to Mort and Josie as he lowered his autorifle. "Okay guests, listen up! We've got about four hours until sunrise and less than that before the Earthers get their spysats working again, so we all need to get aboard the bus and put as much distance between us and your candle as quickly as possible."

"They won't find our candle," Spitfire commented.

"Why, is it invisible?" Josie asked jokingly.

"You could say that," Spitfire answered.

"Eff! We could sure use that tech," said Mort.

"Maybe we'll share it with you," Spitfire said as she climbed the steps up to the bus' airlock. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"Just call me Yuri," he replied. "That's enough information for now. We can all get better acquainted once we're back at Sanctuary."

The bus' airlock could accommodate up to four pressure-suits at a time, so it took as many cycles to get everyone aboard the bus. Mort and Josie sat in the back, cradling their auto rifles. Yuri sat in the driver's seat and Spitfire was shown the front passenger's seat.

"You can remove your helmets, but keep your suits on. The Earthers probably have skybots out scouting to see if we're up to anything," Yuri announced.

"You're worried about the Earthers, but there were only three of you in our welcoming committee," Spitfire said to Yuri. "What if we hadn't been who you were expecting?"

"I'm guessing that you didn't notice the autocannon on our roof," Yuri replied as he engaged the bus' autopilot. "Its fire control is linked to my visor. One false move and you all would have been dead before you could count to three."

"Looks like Aratek has already shared some hardware with you."

"We appropriated it after the staff evacuated Sagan City. Better us than the Earthers."

The wide forward viewport, which had previously looked out on the dark Martian night, suddenly switched to enhanced mode. The Martian desert appeared before them in false daylight as they rolled forward.

"Aren't you worried that they might spot our tracks?" Spitfire asked.

"Not really. Mars is a big planet and they'd have to know where to look. Even if they got lucky, our tracks would lead them in the wrong direction."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone check your belts!" Yuri shouted. "We're going to lift."

The muffled rumble of thrusters filled the cabin as the bus lurched upward, then swung around 90 degrees and accelerated. They flew low over the desert, maintaining just enough altitude to avoid creating a dust cloud with their exhaust. Yuri kept a close eye on their fuel consumption and set them back down barely ten minutes later in a channel formed by a collapsed lava tube.

Spitfire noticed that the central floor of the channel was free of large boulders, suggesting it had been deliberately cleared to make it navigable. She also noticed that they'd only travelled half a kilometer before a large rubble mass blocked their way.

"End of the road?" she asked Yuri.

Yuri said nothing but punched in a code on his 'face. The rocks before them parted and they drove through the opening and down a shallow incline into the un-collapsed portion of the lava tube. As the rock-faced doors closed behind them they accelerated until they were cruising along the unusually smooth and level floor of the lava tube at speeds that at times approached a hundred kilometers and hour.

On and on the bus drove them through the tube. Hours passed. With helmets removed, audible conversations without the need for radio occurred in the pressurized bus. Spitfire heard Stone talking to his commandos and Pete conversing with Emma and Tuesday. They were conversations that were surprising calm and unrelated to their impending mission.

The bus began to slow as they approached the looming bulkhead. Spitfire (Cherry) calculated, based on average speed of eighty-eight kilometers per hour and an elapsed time of four hours and fifteen minutes, that they'd traveled approximately three hundred seventy-four kilometers inside the lava tube. That suggested either an unusually long uninterrupted flow, or a tube that perhaps had been artificially extended.

"Okay, everyone put your helmets back on and re-pressurize," Yuri announced. "The airlock isn't big enough for this bus, so we'll walk in."

CHAPTER 43

The place reminded me of Tunnel Town. Well, sort of. Tunnel Town was like many early permanent Martian settlements that were burrowed underground to provide protection against cosmic radiation because of the planet's weak magnetic field. This place, which we were told was called Sanctuary, was built inside a natural lava tube. Pre-fabricated modules and improvised shelters cobbled together from scavenged materials lined either side of the tube. A rag-tag street market occupied the central portion separated from the dwellings on either side by wide isles to permit the passage of pedestrian and bicycle traffic. Yet, rather than seeming like a ghetto of displaced Martians, it was a vibrant, bustling place that was full of energy. Colorful light strands and animated graffiti adorned the market stalls and kiosks. Those that had fled here to escape the Earthers apparently had a sense of optimism and enthusiasm.

Despite the presence of families and the market's festival atmosphere, it was apparent that this was a military encampment. Although there were no uniforms in evidence, quite a few of the locals sported weapons and wore red armbands with a white shield-and-spear insignia.

We met with Hillary St. Cloud, whom her followers referred to as "Hill", at her office. Her transformation from media celebrity to leader of the MRM caught me off-guard and I didn't recognize her at first. She recognized me, though, as well as Spitfire.

"So, the famous freetrader aligns himself with a notorious pirate," Hill remarked as she touched elbows with us. "War makes strange allies."

"No stranger than the MRM agreeing to help Aratek," Spitfire replied.

"Touché. I suppose having a common enemy makes us all willing to trust each other, at least for the time being."

Spitfire, Emma, Stone, Tuesday, and I all followed Hill into her conference room while the rest of our contingent headed off with one of our escorts to grab some breakfast.

"Coffee, anyone?" Hill asked us as we all seated ourselves in chairs around a conference table with Hill, the blond-haired leader of our welcoming committee who'd identified himself as Yuri, and a dark-haired girl who didn't look to be out of her teens who introduced herself as Josie. Stone and I accepted Hill's offer and were subsequently served mugs with steaming black liquid that turned out to be the real thing and not synthetic.

"This is good," I said. "Where do you get the beans?"

"We grow our own," Hill answered. "Self-sufficiency is essential to our secrecy and continuing survival. New recruits often arrive with only what they can carry, so we have our own hydroponic farms and minifacs. We still appropriate equipment from the outside when the opportunity presents itself, although it was easier early on. Now that the Earthers have eyes in the sky and on the ground, we have to be very careful."

"Impressive set-up," Stone commented as he sipped his coffee.

"Thank you. Now, let's get down to business. Why exactly do you need our help and what is it that you need us to do?" Hill inquired as she leaned forward and faced us.

"Aratek has a weapon that can defeat the Earthers. We need your help to retrieve it," Spitfire explained.

"What is this weapon?"

"It's called Project 42. It's a self-replicating nanobot swarm that feeds on materials of terrestrial origin. Once it's unleashed, the swarm will attack and devour the Earther's candles and warbots."

"It won't harm our equipment?"

"No, it knows the difference."

"How fast will it work?"

"Think of it as an aggressive pandemic that spreads rapidly. The nanobots multiply at an exponential rate. The first effects will be felt in a few hours. Within a few days the Earthers will be experiencing major equipment failures. Within a few weeks their candles and warbots will be crumbling to pieces and they'll be finished."

"If Aratek had this super weapon, why didn't they use it on the Earthers before now?"

"Aratek tried to recover the nanobots, but a security system malfunction prevented it. They've since found a workaround."

"You seem to know a lot about Aratek's plans, Spitfire," Hill commented. "Why would they trust a pirate with such sensitive information?"

Spitfire looked thoughtfully at Hill for a moment, and then did something that caught me and everyone else in the room completely off-guard. She reached up and removed the red-haired wig that she was wearing, allowing the black tresses they concealed to spill out and causing a hush to fall over the room.

"I'm Jan Aradal," she announced as she popped out her emerald green contact lenses to reveal pale blue eyes.

"So the rumors are true," Hill said, finally breaking the silence. "All this time I thought it was just propaganda that Exodyne leaked to the tabloids on their way down. It explains a lot of things, though."

"Will you help us recover the nanobots?" Jan asked as she combed her hair with her fingers.

"What assurances do we have that you'll not resume terraforming once the Earthers are defeated?" Hill asked.

"Do you still have landsat access? You might want to take a look at the lichen blooms out on the Elysium Plain. I think you'll find that they're not doing so well."

"You know, they didn't look so healthy the last time I was out there," Yuri said as he pulled out his 'face. After a few moments, his expression became one of shock.

"Elvis, would you look at that!" he exclaimed as he showed his 'face to Hill. "We didn't do that!"

"No, you didn't, but you certainly tried, didn't you?" Jan asked them. "Turns out your lichen blight wasn't such a bad idea. Aratek figured out how to make it work. The lichen blooms are essential to terraforming. Without the lichen busy freeing-up oxygen, everything else starts to break down."

"This makes no sense! Why would Aratek invest billions of bitcreds to terraform Mars only to abandon it?" Hill demanded.

"Only a fraction of the population really cares if Mars ever becomes Earth-like anymore," Jan responded. "Why invest in something that the majority doesn't care about? Anyway, there won't be any funding for terraforming after this is all over. Aratek doesn't pursue something if it isn't profitable on the backside. Greenslayer won, just not the way you'd planned on it."

"If it wasn't for your record as a pirate and anti-capitalist, I'd question your sincerity," Hill replied. "You remind me of a fictional character I once played earlier in my career. You couldn't achieve whatever your goals were as Jan Aradal, so you became Spitfire."

"It's something like that, but you still haven't said if you'll help us."

I don't see how we could afford not to assist you under the circumstances."

"What circumstances would those be?" Spitfire asked.

Hill sat back in her chair and glanced momentarily at her lieutenants, and then proceeded to tell us a wild story about how the Earthers intended to drill down to Mars' core and inject superdense matter to increase the planet's gravitational pull until it was closer to that of Earth's.

"The Earthers transported drilling equipment and a cyclotron to Mars and assembled them both in an area just west of Bradbury," Hill explained to us.

"How close are they to being ready to begin injecting superdense matter?" I asked.

"They had some initial set-backs with their cyclotron," Yuri said with a slight grin, suggesting that MRM had a hand in it.

"Unfortunately, the Earthers have tightened their security," Hill continued. "We believe that they may be ready to proceed as soon as the drill reaches the core."

"How close are they to the core?" Spitfire asked.

"We aren't sure, maybe another month at most."

"I'm no scientist, but won't increasing Mars' gravity cause all kinds of bad stuff to happen?" I asked.

"Yes, the stronger gravity will cause Mars to contract. There'll be massive 'quakes. The devastation will be catastrophic."

I knew that if Mars' gravitational pull was closer to that of Earth's then it would be able to hold a dense atmosphere without the need for a synthosphere to contain it like Io had. Mars was way too big to surround with a manufacture layer of charged gas, so terraforming efforts had focused on naturally increasing atmospheric density and oxygen content using plant life adapted to the cold and thin atmosphere. With the oxygen-generating lichen succumbing to the blight, the process would fail. However, with higher gravity, the Earthers could use electrolysis to manufacture oxygen from water and then vent it into the atmosphere without fear of it gradually escaping into space.

Their crazy plan might actually work, but at what cost to Mars and her inhabitants?

CHAPTER 44

Jack Parsec stared intently at his targeting computer as the Eon Hawk rapidly approached the giant Vulgarian battle cruiser. He was sure his arch nemesis, the beautiful but treacherous Empress Smegma, was aboard. He had no doubt that she'd personally want to witness Mars' destruction when the battle cruiser trained its lethal neutron beams on the now-defenseless planet.

" _We're in range," Roger Starkey announced. "Shouldn't we fire?"_

" _No, not yet," Jack replied tensely. There was only room for one collapsium torpedo in Eon Hawk's payload bay. "We've only got one shot, and we've got to make it count."_

" _How close do we have to get?"_

Jack glanced at the visioscreen. By now the mammoth battlecruiser completely filled the display. He could clearly see the bridge's big, panoramic window growing steadily larger as they drew closer and closer. Empress Smegma would be standing there on the bridge, staring back at him.

" _Close enough for me to see Empress Smegma's tits," Jack replied_. – "Out to the Void, Episode 4: The Attack of the Vulgarians".

* * *

Our ride from Sanctuary through the lava tube lasted only forty minutes, suggesting that MRM's secret base was fairly close to Bradbury. We exited the bus near a dead end.

"Where to now?" Cherry/Jan asked.

"Straight up," Yuri said as his helmet lights illuminated a meter-diameter opening in the ceiling above our heads.

"How do we get up there?"

"Using this really high-tech gadget," Josie replied as she removed the ladder from the side of the bus. She carried the ladder over to the opening and stood under it, then pushed a pair of buttons on either side causing it to automatically extend up into the lightless shaft.

"Cute," remarked Cat.

"I'll go up first and make sure the coast is clear," Yuri said. "Josie, you know what to do if we've got unwelcomed guests topside and I don't make it back down."

"Blow the shaft and get the 'eff out of here," she replied.

"Roger that," Yuri said as he ascended the ladder.

We waited for over a minute until the 'all clear' was thankfully announced, and then took turns climbing the ladder. Stone and his squad went first, followed by Cherry/Jan, Cat, Tuesday, Emma, and then me. Josie brought up the rear. We turned off our helmet lights as we neared the surface to prevent revealing our positions in the pre-dawn darkness. Once we were all on the surface a flat-sided boulder swung down to conceal the shaft.

"We've got less than ten minutes until shift change, so we need to hurry," Yuri informed us as he checked the time. We'll be taking the place of the greenhouse workers who are getting off their shift. They're our people and they've been secretly aiding the resistance. Their suits match ours and we'll go inside posing as them while they go to the bus."

"What happens when we remove our helmets and they figure out that we're not who we're supposed to be?" Cat asked as we walked toward the distant greenhouse.

"That's where we come in," Stone explained. "If that happens then Black Thunder will deal with the situation while you all head for Cold Storage."

"Hopefully that won't happen," said Yuri. "Look, here they come."

My night-vision visor revealed a line of pressure-suited figures walking towards us in the darkness. We tapped gloves as we filed passed them in an ancient salute.

We marched on toward the airlock. Because of our need to look like the workers we'd replaced, we couldn't smuggle in any weapons bigger than an autopistol. That meant a firefight was something to be avoided if at all possible.

The disinterested guard didn't even bother to inspect us as we filed in from the airlock. Even after we'd ditched our pressure suits nobody seemed to notice us. If they did they weren't saying anything. So far so good. This was going to be easier than I thought.

Turns out I was wrong.

Our troubles started as we were walking through the short corridor that lead from the locker room into the dome proper. That's when the alarms sounded.

"INTRUDER ALERT! WEAPONS DETECTED AT ENTRANCE D3!" blared the warning. Apparently, the corridor had scanners in the walls that detected the autopistols concealed in our jumpsuits.

We hurried out into the dome and headed in the direction of the warehouse where Cold Storage was located. As we were turning down 22nd Street we heard shouts from behind us. We all ducked behind a waste recycling bin, but we'd already been spotted.

"You there! Come out with your hands up!" shouted the pair of security guards as they approached us. They wore uniforms and carried stunners, but they were tall and slender of build which suggested that they were Martians who'd sided with the Earthers.

"We've got this!" Stone shouted as he and his squad drew their weapons. Two shots later the guards were sprawled on the pavement.

That's when the battleshell showed up. It reminded me of Phineas' repairbot, only it was bigger than a man. It walked on six legs and brandished a pair of claw-like arms. The thing had what looked like a cockpit in its body with a mirrored forward-facing canopy. An autocannon was perched atop the cockpit, and it swiveled to point its muzzle in our direction.

"Go!" Stone ordered. "We'll slow it down and buy you some time!"

"Here," I said as I handed Stone my autopistol. "You'll need the extra ammo."

"Thanks," he said. "Good luck."

Cherry/Jan, Cat, Tuesday, and Emma each handed their autopistols to the other members of Stone's squad and then we all dashed down the street. We turned a short distance later into M Street and a row of warehouses. Behind us I heard shots ring out in rapid succession as Black Thunder engaged the Earther battleshell.

"I'm surprised the Earther's would station battleshells inside the dome," I shouted as we ran.

"The domes in Bradbury were designed to withstand an impact from a small meteor, so they're obviously not too worried about an autocannon shell puncturing them," Emma replied.

We continued down the deserted street until Cherry/Jan abruptly stopped in front of a particular warehouse.

"We're here," she announced. "This is Cold Storage."

From the exterior, Cold Storage looked like just another warehouse. Emma informed me that it was in fact a storage facility for obsolete equipment ( _i.e.,_ junk) discarded by Aratek. It certainly wasn't a place worth breaking into and the minimal security reflected as much. There wasn't anything here that the Earthers or anyone else would want, but then that was the idea.

Cherry/Jan looked to make sure nobody was watching us and then punched in a code on a keypad by a pedestrian door. The door opened and we all hurried inside.

"Do what you have to do," Yuri told us as he and Josie took up positions behind storage containers that gave them a clear shot at the door we'd entered through. "If an Earther Patrol shows up we'll hold them off as long as we can."

Like an old-fashioned spy novel, access to Cold Storage's treasures was gained via an empty utility closet in a dusty long-abandoned office at the rear of the warehouse. Emma entered the closet and stood there silently for a moment, then placed her palm with fingers spread on a tracing of a handprint on the wall that looked like the work of a bored child. We watched from outside the door as a concealed biometric scanner did its due diligence. Finally, she leaned forward and licked a crude drawing of a face with its tongue sticking out.

From behind her, Cherry/Jan stated in a clear voice, "Jan Aradal".

Cat stared at both Emma and Cherry/Jan with an expression that made me realize that perhaps we'd 'effed up when we brought her along. She'd apparently figured out our deception.

Oh well, it was too late now!

Several seconds passed and then the rear wall of the closet abruptly parted along invisible seams to reveal what looked like an elevator car.

"It worked!" Emma said excitedly as she turned to face us.

Let's go!" I shouted. I didn't know how much longer Black Thunder could keep the Earther battleshell occupied.

Emma, Cherry/Jan, Tuesday, Cat and I all piled into the elevator. The door slid silently shut behind us and I felt us descend.

A minute, give or take, passed. Cat glared at us as we descended but said nothing. The elevator door opened, and we stepped out in a cavernous enclosure with spotless white walls. Rows and rows of orderly storage shelves with letter and number placards and separated by broad aisles filled the brightly-lit space.

"We're 100 meters below the surface," Cherry/Jan explained as we gawked at the fantastic sight. "This facility has thermal, EM and gravimetric shielding so that spysats can't find it.

"May I help you," boomed a pleasant, disembodied voice.

"Hello Hal, I'm here to retrieve Project 42," Cherry/Jan replied to our invisible host.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that Ms. Aradal," answered the voice. "Access to Project 42 is restricted."

"Open the pod bay doors, Hal," Cherry/Jan announced.

"Access code confirmed. Please wait while Project 42 is being retrieved."

"That was easy," I remarked.

A few minutes later a small cube-shaped 'bot appeared from behind one of the rows of shelves and rolled silently up the aisle toward us. It stopped in front of Cherry/Jan. In a basket on top of it was a small metallic briefcase.

"That's it?" I asked incredulously as she picked up the compact briefcase. "That's Project 42?"

"What were you expecting," Cherry/Jan asked me.

"I don't know. Maybe something that would stop the Earthers?"

"This case contains trillions of hungry nanobots with an affinity for materials of uniquely terrestrial origin. Once the case is opened they'll disperse and begin infecting the Earthers' warbots and battleshells. They'll spread like a plague. The Earthers won't ever know what hit them."

" _If it really works,"_ I thought to myself.

We all re-boarded the elevator to return to the surface. When the door opened I was relieved to find that the warehouse was still quiet and there was no ongoing gun battle in progress.

We rejoined Yuri and Josie near the front door.

"We got it!" Cherry/Jan announced as she held up the briefcase."

"That's great, but we're not out of the woods yet," Yuri replied. "We still have to avoid the battleshell, sneak back to the locker room, recover our pressure suits, and then get the 'eff out of Bradbury. That isn't going to be easy now that the Earthers are on to us."

We exited the warehouse with Yuri taking point and Josie bringing up the rear. With only two autopistols between us, we wouldn't stand much of a chance if we encountered a patrolling warbot.

"I don't hear any gunfire," I said. That was either a very good or a very bad sign, since it meant that either Stone and his team had dispatched the battleshell or there had been another, much less desirable outcome.

"I suggest that we not return by the way we came," Tuesday said. "If the battleshell incapacitated Commander Stone's squad then it may be headed in this direction."

"Good idea. We'll circle around the warehouse are work our way back another way," Yuri replied.

We made our way down the narrow alley than ran between Cold Storage and the adjacent warehouse. We turned a corner and slowly made our way down 21st Street, hugging the walls to avoid being noticed. We were the only people on the empty, debris-littered street.

The battleshell emerged from a side street and turned in our direction.

"ATTENTION CITIZENS!" boomed the battleshell's speaker. "YOU ARE IN A FORBIDDEN AREA. RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS IMMEDIATELY."

"Let's go back the way we came," Yuri whispered to us as he slowly lowered his gun.

"GUNS ARE FORBIDDEN!" the battleshell blared at us, apparently detecting Yuri's autopistol. "DROP YOUR WEAPON AND SURRENDER IMEDIATELY!"

Yuri raised his autopistol and fired a burst at the thing, striking it in its canopy. The rounds impacted but bounced off.

"Run!" he shouted. We all turned and ran back down 21st Street. The thing opened fire with its autocannon, barely missing us. We dashed back toward Cold Storage as the battleshell scurried after us, forcing us to duck into an alley to avoid being hit by autocannon fire.

"This is a blind alley! We're trapped in an 'effing shooting gallery!" Josie yelled as the battleshell reached the alley.

"'Eff this shit!" Cat shouted as she jerked the briefcase out of Cherry/Jan's hand. I would have figured the case would have been locked, but maybe it wasn't or maybe Cat is just that good at breaking into stuff really fast. The next thing I knew, she'd grabbed a handful of whatever was in the case and hurled it in the direction of the battleshell.

I held my breath as the thing stood before us like a monstrous metallic spider, brandishing its claws and aiming its autocannon at us. Yuri and Josie emptied their clips into it with no effect. With no place to hide, I waited for the burst from the autocannon that would finish us all.

I had no idea what Jack Parsec would have done in a situation like this.

Nothing happened. Well, at least at first. The battleshell stood before us, frozen statue-like, then as we watched it seemed to rust - at least I guessed that was happening to it. Pieces of its reactive armor started to slough off and fall to the ground, then crumble to dust. The thing's legs turned to flimsy sticks which broke and caused it to collapse. The mirrored canopy suddenly became transparent and then dissolved, revealing a pink, round-faced man whose hands were frantically punching his non-functioning control panel in a vain effort to fire his crumbling autocannon.

"Elvis, I didn't think they worked that fast!" I said to Cherry/Jan.

"Normally they wouldn't, but Cat doused it with millions of nanobots," she replied as we watched the battleshell disintegrate before us, leaving the stocky pink-skinned pilot sprawled naked in a pile of brown dust. Even his made-on-Earth clothing had been consumed by the voracious nanobots.

"You!" he shouted at us angrily as he jumped to his feet. "You'll all pay for this!" Then he lunged at us propelled by his big Earther muscles with his meaty fist upraised. Tuesday met him with a roundhouse kick. He staggered but didn't go down.

" _Jao Gao!"_ she swore as the stocky Earther shrugged off her kick and lunged at her. Tuesday easily dodged his haymaker and landed a well-aimed punch which caused him to pause before throwing another punch. Tuesday blocked his blow, but the force was so great that it caused her to lose her footing and stagger backward.

"Tuesday!" Emma shouted. "Watch out for him! He's very strong!"

"Your observation is most accurate," Tuesday replied as she switched tactics. She seemed to go on the defensive, fluidly dodging the raging Earther's punches but not offering a response until just the right opportunity presented itself. Her punch didn't appear to be all that hard, but apparently its surgical placement did just the trick because the Earther instantly crumpled to the ground.

"That was some fight," Yuri exclaimed as we gathered around the unconscious Earther. "He sure didn't want to go down."

"He isn't an ordinary Earther," Cherry/Jan suggested. "He was piloting a battleshell which means he's a soldier. He probably had enhanced physical conditioning."

"His fighting style suggested basic hand-to-hand combat training, but nothing more advanced," Tuesday said as she caught her breath. "He had great strength which I initially misjudged."

"You beat his sorry Earther ass and that's all that counts," said Josie. "You're one hell of a fighter."

"What do we do with him?" Emma asked.

"I suggest that we leave him here," Tuesday said. "He will not be recovering consciousness. I have not previously fought an Earther and in the heat of the moment felt it necessary to use a killing strike which stopped his heart."

"He was a waste of oxygen and he was trying to kill us," Yuri replied. "You wouldn't hurt my feelings if you did that to all of them."

"Did release all of the nanobots?" Cherry/Jan asked Cat.

"No, I'm not stupid _Cherry_ ," Cat responded as she held up the small briefcase. "I knew you'd need this stuff for all the other domes."

Cat shoved the briefcase at Emma and told her, "I believe this belongs to you."

CHAPTER 45

The dense swarm of nanobots that Cat released spread rapidly throughout the dome. The dome's air scrubbing and circulating system effectively managed that and, since the Earthers hadn't bothered to shut the doors to the tunnels that connected our dome to the others, the swarm quickly spread throughout Bradbury. The nanobots had not been intended to be distributed in such a concentrated mass and the results were spectacular. All over the dome cluster the Earthers' warbots froze and then slowly disintegrated until they were just brown dust piles. The handful of other human-piloted battleshells stationed in Bradbury similarly succumbed and their defenseless pilots met varying but ultimately gruesome fates at the hands of the newly liberated and vengeful locals.

Within a matter of hours, Bradbury was effectively free of the Earthers' control. Before leaving to return to Sanctuary, we arranged to vent some atmosphere from the dome so that billions of the nanobots would be released to Mars' thin atmosphere and carried by the winds to the far corners of the planet. It only required just one nanobot to infect something of uniquely terrestrial origin. While the Earther construct's dissolution would not be nearly as rapid, it would still ultimately have the same results. The nanobots would replicate as they fed and multiplied until they achieved a rudimentary _gestalt_ intelligence that compelled the swarm to seek out and devour anything with the magnetic and gravimetric signature of something unique to humanity's planet of origin. We might not be able tell the difference between two supposedly identical materials manufactured on Mars or on Earth, but they certainly could.

Getting the nanobots into the other major cities wasn't too difficult. MRM clandestinely scattered the brown dust, which was teaming with hungry nanobots, at airlock entrances and inside greenhouses. Workers walked through the dust and carried the nanobots inside where they fed on anything of terrestrial origin. Unfortunately that included some priceless antiques and paintings in museums that had been imported from old Earth, as well as some furnishings of wealthy residents. I heard a humorous story on the newstream about an imported four-post bed that apparently disintegrated while a couple was sexing.

The drill site was a high priority target, and MRM moved quickly to release a nanobot swarm upwind of the platform. Even in Mars thin atmosphere the air currents carried the swarm like and invisible cloud of destruction over the platform. Hill showed me a video of the derrick as it wobbled and drunkenly swayed before collapsing. I think I could have done without the gruesome images of the Earthers who had been working outside simultaneously suffocating and freezing to death as their terrestrially-made pressure suits failed, littering the ground with naked blue corpses.

Within a few weeks, the Earthers' control of Mars was for all purposes gone as their warbots, battleshells, and even personal weapons crumbled to dust. I was informed by Cherry/Jan that a dozen or so high-ranking Earther officers equipped themselves with Martian-made arms and then managed to commandeer a locally-built shuttle that they used to escape to one of their orbiting dreadnaughts even as their own candles were toppling at Olympus Spaceport. Less than an hour later what was left of their once mighty armada departed Mars orbit and headed back toward Earth. We never received word that they ever made it back before their candles were reduced to so much space junk.

The final transmission from the Russ Schwätzer A.I. was entertaining. It started off with the usual threats about severely punishing us for our cowardly subterfuge but then shifted into a strange monologue about his new shoes and how he was learning to tie them. He was very proud of his new shoes. He was also very proud of his penis and wanted to show that to us as well. Then he proceeded to tell us that he was going to entertain us with a song that he'd learned. It was called _Dance Without Pants_. As the Schwätzer A.I. sang it, his voice became progressively lower and the pace slower until it was an unintelligible groaning that ultimately subsided.

It appeared that Russ Schwätzer, or at least the version that had accompanied the Earthers' invasion force, was officially dead.

The fate of Earth's natural satellite remained a mystery for several more weeks until a broadcast from 'Free Luna' made the stream. The Earther's conquest of Luna had not been complete given the vast number of settlements on the big moon and they'd apparently grossly underestimated the Selenites capability for resistance. The Space Guard responded by loading proximity-fused mines with nanobots and the saturating the orbits of the Earthers' sentry candles with the mines. Five days later, the Guard landed in force at Neil Armstrong Spaceport. The Earthers surrendered less than two days later.

The Second Interplanetary War was over. The Earthers had once again been defeated, this time not by a kilometers-across asteroid but something so tiny that it was invisible to the naked eye. I couldn't help but note the similarity between H.G. Wells' classic novel, _The War of the Worlds_ and our recent conflict. Wells' umpty-times great granddaughter apparently also noticed the similarities because she subsequently published a novel based on the war written in a style that payed homage to her famous forebearer.

CHAPTER 46

"You all lied to me!"

None of us said anything. Cat was right after all.

"Why? _Why_ the 'eff did you lie to me!" she demanded.

"We didn't know if we could trust you," I finally answered after an uncomfortably long pause. "We didn't know what Madame Dommé might have done to you."

"We were concerned that she might have brainwashed you or implanted subliminal commands," Tuesday added.

"Okay, I get. You thought she might have messed with my head."

"It was not unreasonable to assume based on her academic background and criminal behavior," Tuesday explained.

"So, do you still not trust me?"

More awkward silence. I didn't know how to answer that. Cat's quick thinking when we were trapped in the alley had saved us from being wiped out by the battleshell and resulted in Bradbury's subsequent liberation from the occupying Earthers. She was a hero. On the other hand, was there a hidden trigger that would set in motion whatever she might have been programmed to do? Would a certain phrase or situation cause her to execute whatever command Madame Dommé had implanted in her subconscious?

"I have my doubts," I said hesitantly and then added, "It's not your fault. Blame Madame Dommé."

"She could undergo a brain scan," Cherry/Jan suggest. "I'm sure Aratek could arrange that."

"Don't bother!" Cat shouted angrily and stormed out of Hill's office. I chased after her and caught up as she was making her way along the empty street that ran between the cubicles and now deserted market stalls.

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked her.

"Back to Market, if you must know," was her curt answer.

"But . . . why?"

"Because someone there _does_ trust me," she said as she stopped walking and faced me. "Someone who apparently didn't lie to me after all."

"She _trusts_ you? She 'effing manipulated you. Madame Dommé convinced you to kidnap Jan Aradal so that she could torture her. You want to go back to someone who would do something as horrendous as that?"

"Guess what, Pete? She tried to talk me out of going through with the kidnapping when she learned I was her niece. She didn't want to risk my getting caught. I insisted on going through with it!"

That caught me completely off guard and I stood there dumbfounded.

"Why are you so surprised?" Cat continued. "You know how I feel about Spitfire, and Emma is Jan and Jan is Spitfire!"

"She's my _wife_ , Cat."

"Well, that's _your_ problem. I don't feel like sharing air with a pirate who marooned us a half-billion kilometers from anywhere even if you did marry her. You don't need two mechanics on a candle like _Orchid_ , so we'll just call it quits right here and now. I'm done with you and your 'effing crew. I cared about you once, but that candle has launched. Oh, one more thing: I won't tell anyone that Emma is really Jan Aradal as long as you keep your mouth shut about me being the Black Kitten. Deal?"

"Deal," I muttered as I stood there watching Cat suddenly turn and briskly walk away.

Maybe it was best if we parted company. Even if Cat hadn't felt the way she did about Emma, I didn't particularly want a 'sleeper' among us that might suddenly become activated and do Elvis-knows-what when we least expected it.

I watched Cat until she made a left turn through a break in the empty stalls and was gone from my sight, then I turned and walked slowly back toward Hill's office. The floor of the lava tube was still littered with empty sippy boxes and other trash from the end-of-the-war victory celebration. Trash that would never be cleaned up now that Sanctuary was being abandoned. With the Earthers' occupation ended, almost all of the residents had already returned to their homes. The once bustling lava tube town was now mostly a ghost town with the exception of a few hold-outs.

Hill was alone in her conference room. Emma, Tuesday, and Cherry/Jan were absent, presumably having left to finish getting their bags together for the ride back to now-liberated Sagan City.

"Almost seems like it was all just a bad dream," she said to me as she stared at the wall 'face. With the occupation over there was an eagerness on society's part for things to return to normal as fast as possible, and the situation comedy streaming on the 'face was an indication of that eagerness.

"Too bad Stone and his team won't be waking up from it," I replied.

"I lost a lot of good people fighting a war I'd never planned on fighting," Hill said wearily. "I was in this to prevent the terraforming, not stop an invasion."

"I'd say that you did a really good job," I said in response.

"Well, my old agent must also think so because she's already 'faced me about doing a series based on the Second Interplanetary War. Elvis, I'm not even back in Sagan City and she's already lined up a producer. Big budget she says."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Honestly, Pete? I want to crawl into bed and just sleep. Really sleep, not do fake sleep-in-a-pill sleep. When I've slept for a few days then I'll think about it. Right now it's all too fresh and too raw. By the way, my agent said that the producers want to include you and your crew in the series. I told her that they'd have to take it up with you personally."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass. I'm an ex-writer turned independent spacer, not an actor."

"We're all actors whether we like it or not," she replied. "Some of us just get paid to do it."

CHAPTER 47

Our bus rolled into the big airlock at the Sagan City terminal at 14:37 LMT after a very long trip from Sanctuary. I wasn't prepared for the reception that awaited us. There must have been hundreds crammed into the receiving area beyond the inner doors. We were greeted by cheers and Commonwealth flags and MRM's shield-and-spear bearing standards being waved enthusiastically.

We were heroes once again. This time we hadn't brought down the corrupt CEO of an interplanetary supercorp or a mad scientist bent on turning humans into monsters, we'd stopped an interplanetary invasion. Well, we'd helped. Stone and his commandos were the real heroes as far as I was concerned. They'd given their lives to slow down the Earther battleshell while we retrieved Project 42. We'd had the easy part.

That didn't seem to matter. I was the REAL Jack Parsec again. I was all over the newstream.

I'm not Jack Parsec, but it seems he and I are perpetually joined at the hip. As much as I'd like to leave him behind, I'm stuck with him and his 'effing cheesy space opera exploits which I've unintentionally managed to somehow personify. I created him and wrote about him to earn a living, but I never imagined that I would become him.

I wanted to get back to normal like everyone else. For me 'normal' didn't involve being a media celebrity, it meant being a spacer again and leaving the dust behind me.

Cherry/Jan informed me that John had piloted _Orchid_ with Ellie, Lo, John Hawker and Phineas aboard back to Mars from Ceres. She said that _Orchid_ had dusted a short time ago at Olympus Spaceport. Emma, Tuesday, and I suited up and Cherry/Jan drove us in an Aratek buggy out to Olympus to meet the rest of our crew. As we headed out we were passed by a pair of fast moving emergency response vehicles that were travelling in the same direction. I didn't think anything of it at first, but as we neared the section of the spaceport normally reserved for Aratek's candles I saw the same pair of vehicles parked near a candle that had apparently toppled.

I stared and gasped in horror as I saw it was _Orchid_. Her hull was still intact, albeit slightly flattened, but parts of her landing gear appeared to have disintegrated. A large pool of ice had accumulated around her, suggesting that her fuel tank had ruptured. A cloud of steam billowed from her rocket motor.

"John! Ellie! Lo!" I shouted frantically over my suit's radio. I jumped out of our buggy and ran toward our fallen candle.

"We's alright Pete," came John's reply as a pressure-suited figure walked toward me. "We was all already outside when she started to topple. We don't know about Phineas yet. He was stayin' aboard as usual. They's tryin' to get to him now. Power plant's still hot so they ain't lettin' anybody else get close to her yet."

" _Orchid's_ landing gear must have had parts of terrestrial manufacture," Tuesday suggested. There was a large surplus following the war."

That explained it. _Orchid_ was over 50 years old and could have been built with some left-over Earther parts.

Ellie, Lo and John Hawker joined us, and we all waited outside as the minutes crawled by with agonizing slowness. Finally, someone wearing a pressure suit with emergency response markings approached.

"Captain Soñador?" she asked.

"That's me," I said taking a half step forward.

"I'm sorry sir, but your mechanic didn't make it."

"You can't reanimate him?" I asked.

"No, I'm afraid he was injured too badly when your candle toppled."

That conjured up a gruesome image of him crushed to a pulp in my mind.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Finally, a pair of pressure-suited figures emerged from the open airlock carrying a body bag. They loaded Phineas' remains into one of the emergency response vehicles, and we all watched in silence as it departed.

Phineas was dead and so was _Orchid_.

CHAPTER 48

"That's the last of it," Art said as he loaded Madame Dommé's luggage into the cab. "Everything else is already aboard _Indulgence_ , so we won't have to come back here."

Madame Dommé looked wistfully up the long winding walkway that led to her grand villa. Make that her _former_ villa. She'd been evicted from Market for 'breaking the rules'. She didn't know how the directors had learned that she'd clandestinely purchased Catherine during the 'non-residents only' auction, but she believed that Roland Hayes probably had something to do with it. As a consequence of her eviction from Market, she'd lost her business and had to forfeit her estate. Considering how many enemies she'd made over the years she wasn't entirely surprised at the board's action. How did that old saying go? _"Payback is a bitch."_

She still had her yacht and a not insignificant amount of bitcreds in her account, so she didn't have to entirely abandon the opulent lifestyle to which she was accustomed. Paul and Art had volunteered to accompany her, so she had bodyguards and a crew for _Indulgence_. However, finding a place where she'd be welcomed was something of a problem after she'd been branded a 'notorious human trafficker' by the news media. Now that the war was over there would be warrants out for her arrest throughout the civilized Sol System, so she'd have to pick a less-desirable destination such as the lawless Free Belt or maybe one of the frigid outer moons. Neither sounded very appealing to her.

Madame Dommé sighed and got into the cab. She'd decide where to go after they'd departed Market. Good riddance to this unhospitable place!

"Do you think she'll come back here?" she asked Art as they drove off.

"Who are you talking about?" he asked her in reply.

"Catherine. I am her aunt after all. I doubt that she went with Spitfire willingly."

"You did mess with her head."

"I merely uncovered feelings that she'd suppressed. Those were her feelings and not implanted memories. Catherine insisted on going through with Jan Aradal's abduction even after I learned that she was my niece and I tried to talk her out of it."

"Well, we didn't try very hard to stop her either. We did the opposite and helped her, and you were pleased with the outcome."

"Yes, I was pleased with the outcome. I was very pleased until Spitfire showed up and ruined everything. I don't know how she got into Market, but I'll bet Hayes had a part in that."

"You can't change what's happened," Art commented. "You can start over though. You still have money and you have your contacts. There'll always be a demand for slaves somewhere."

Madame Dommé silently contemplated what Art had just said to her as their cab approached the marina. He always seemed to offer sound advice. Yes, she had working capital and she still had her shadowy network of operatives scattered across the Sol System. She could run her business from _Indulgence_ until she found a new permanent base of operations. She might be done on Market, but she was far from finished.

She wasn't finished with Spitfire, either. She still had her 'contingency plan' in place and, given her current situation, now was probably a good time to use implement it. She'd neglected to mention to Art that she'd planted subliminal programs in Catherine while she was recovering from her exposure to the designer neurotoxin that she suspected Hayes was behind. The programs each required a unique trigger phrase to become activated, but when the right circumstances occurred, and the trigger was pulled, Jan Aradal would no longer require oxygen. It wouldn't be as satisfying a revenge as having her reduced to a life of slavery, but it would permanently rid the Sol System of her.

CHAPTER 49

The Ceremony in Honor of the Resistance was held at the Olympic Stadium three weeks after we'd returned to Sagan City. Dignitaries from all over the Sol System attended. Space Guard officers stood shoulder to shoulder with shield-and-spear armband-wearing MRM freedom fighters in the honor guard. We sat in the front row on the stage which had been set up near one end of the giant stadium. Emma sat on one side of me and Cherry/Jan sat on the other. Cherry/Jan was dressed in her gray Pluto's Children jumpsuit, although her flaming red hair had gone by the wayside since everyone knew by now that Jan Aradal was the ex-pirate-turned privateer Spitfire. Hillary "Hill" St. Cloud sat next to Cherry/Jan, followed by Yuri and then Josie.

I didn't think I deserved to be seated on that stage with the "Heroes of the Resistance", but I wasn't given much of a choice.

Many of the real heroes were absent, having lost their lives in the conflict. After the speeches their names were solemnly read aloud as _Mars_ from Holst's _The Planets_ played softly in the background. After their names were read we were recognized. Cheers and applause filled the stadium as our names were called so that we could each stand in turn to be recognized.

I wasn't trying to be inattentive or disrespectful, but all I could think about was the sad image of Phineas' remains being carried out of _Orchid's_ wreck in a body bag. Emma had to elbow me when my name was called to get me to stand.

I seriously needed a beer, so after the ceremony I jettisoned my crew and headed for Tunnel Town and the Black Hole. I was relieved to find it open for business. I had a beer, then another, and another . . .

I don't know when John and Emma showed up, but they grabbed bar stools on either side of me.

"What's up with you Pete?" John asked me. "You done bailed on the victory celebration after the ceremony."

"Sorry, but I didn't feel like being sociable."

"But, you're a hero. Folks just wanted to thank you for what you done."

I slammed my sippy box down on the bar and glared at him.

"I'm not a hero!" I shouted angrily. "I was just along for the ride. I don't want to be a celebrity. I'm sick and tired of being compared to the 'effing REAL Jack Parsec. I'm just a spacer, only now I don't have a candle and my mechanic is dead."

"So, that's why you're here throwing a pity party for yourself?" said a familiar voice from behind me.

I spun around on my bar stool and saw Cat standing there behind me beside Cherry/Jan.

"I guess you were right about Madame Dommé," Cat said to me. "She did 'eff with my head and made me want to help her get her revenge on Jan.

"What made you decide that?" I asked.

"I got a brain scan like Cherry suggested. I didn't trust Aratek to do it, so I went to a walk-in clinic after I got back to Sagan City. Guess what they found? No false memories but plenty of suggestive and compelling memes. They scrubbed them out and my whole attitude did a one-eighty. Anyway, I came back to apologize to you and Jan, that is _Emma_ , for the way I've acted," Cat explained as she looked at my wife and smiled. Emma retuned her smile and then slid off her stool and hugged Cat.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Cat asked her.

"If you'll forgive _me_ ," Emma replied as she hugged Cat tightly.

"How did you get back from Market?" I asked Cat.

"I never left Mars," Cat explained. "I didn't have a ride back to Market lined up, so I caught one of the last buses from Sanctuary to Sagan City. I went to the ceremony just to see what they were going to do. I was touched by the empty chair for me on the stage. I happened to look a few seats over from where I was sitting and saw John smiling and waving at me. Talk about a small world! Anyway, we docked after the ceremony and he suggested that we all get together for beers only you went off the sensors." He got worried and we all went looking for you."

"Wow, I'm truly impressed. How did you track me down?"

"Ali saw you drowning your sorrows and 'faced us," Cat replied as she glanced toward the far end of the bar. I looked in the direction of her glance and saw Ali Kahn smile and raise his glass at me.

"Okay, so a lame plot device that I'd never have used in _Out to the Void_ actually worked for once and you all managed to track me down," I said.

"Well, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was when I learned about what happened to Phineas. I didn't know him very well, but he seemed like a gifted individual. I'm sure he'll be missed."

"Thanks," I said.

I also figured that you might be in the market for a new mechanic for your candle."

"I would be if I _had_ a candle," I replied. "In case you haven't heard, _Orchid_ is so much scrap. She'll never lift again. I'm done with spacing."

"You think you're _done_?" Cherry/Jan asked me and then laughed. "If you're not too tired, I think that we all need to take a ride out to Olympus Spaceport."

"It's night."

"There are lights."

Less than an hour later, we were all suited up and boarding a van for our impromptu evening ride. The night sky was clear and, despite the light pollution from Sagan City, filled with hundreds of bright twinkling stars. We drove down the long, straight highway to Olympus Spaceport and then through the private gate to Aratek's section. About a half-dozen candles were in port, their presence revealed by brilliant ground-based floodlights. Cherry/Jan switched off the van's autopilot and drove us toward one particular candle, stopping just behind the lights. Several pressure-suited figures were standing close to her landing gear.

"Okay, everybody check your helmets. I'm going to depressurize." she announced. Our van lacked an airlock, but that just made it easier for us to all quickly exit the vehicle and we filed out together.

The candle stood proudly before us bathed in the bright lights with her nose pointed skyward as if she was ready to leap into the void at any moment.

"Is that you, Hill?" Jan called over her radio.

"I'm here Jan. Is Pete with you?"

"Present," I said as I raised my arm.

"Ready to check her out?" Hill asked.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"Your new ride."

"What?"

"Captain Peter Soñador," said an unfamiliar woman's voice. "On behalf of the Interplanetary Commonwealth, I wish express our gratitude for your selfless courage in the face of impossible odds. Thanks to you and your crew, Mars and the rest of the Sol System are free again."

"Look, I really appreciate the compliment, but I was just along for the ride," I responded.

"You willingly went on a mission that few would have ever dared undertaking," Hill countered. "That act required extraordinary bravery on your part whether you want to admit it or not. Regardless, you shouldn't argue with the Secretary General of the Interplanetary Commonwealth when she's paying you a compliment."

"Oh, wow! I' mean, thank you Madam Secretary."

"You may skip the formalities, Pete. We were going to give this candle to you in a ceremony, but I was advised that you apparently have an aversion to public recognition, so we'll just do it here and now. In appreciation for you and your crew's heroism and sacrifice, the Commonwealth is pleased to present you with this space vessel, yadda, yadda. May she faithfully ferry you safely and swiftly through the void."

John was oblivious to the proceedings. He was too busy looking over our new candle.

"She's a _beauty_ , Pete!" he proclaimed a little too loudly over the radio. "Her rocket motor's a Fordyce Phaeton! She's got some legs on her!"

"She's _Evita's_ sister ship. Aratek donated her to the Commonwealth at the start of the war," Cherry/Jan explained. She's a bit larger and a lot newer than _Orchid_. She's not so much larger that you'll need a bigger crew to run her, though. She's got repairbots, a sickbay with an automed, and a galley with an autochef. Oh, one deck is divided into private staterooms for couples and new families."

"Did you hear that John?" Ellie asked. "We'll have room for the baby when she comes!"

I was only half-listening to the conversation at this point. I was walking around the candle and gazing up at her sleek fuselage when I noticed the name boldly stenciled in red on her side just below the cargo bay doors that read, ' _EON HAWK'_.

It was the name of Jack Parsec's fictional tramp freighter.

"I'm very sorry Pete," Cherry/Jan apologized to me. as she saw me staring up at the name. "I didn't how you felt really about Jack Parsec until I'd already ordered that. I'll have the name changed to something else. Whatever you want, you just name it."

I didn't say anything for a few moments as I continued to stare at the name. Ever since I'd become a celebrity, I'd been in a personal battle with my fictional alter-ego. I'd even come to despise him because I was constantly being compared to the REAL Jack Parsec. In that moment, I suddenly realized that maybe I'd had it all backwards and he was actually being compared to me.

What the 'eff, I _am_ the REAL Jack Parsec. He's just a fictional character after all. I'm not.

"No, the name is perfect," I said and smiled. "C'mon, let's all go take a tour of her."

CHAPTER 50

"Have another sip," I told Emma as I held the sippy box of War God IPA to her lips

"I'm already feelin' presshy good," she slurred in response and giggled.

"We want you to be very relaxed," Dr. Fondal told her. "Go ahead and take another sip or two."

I held the sippy box to Emma's lips and she took another gulp, although some of it spilled on the white half-tee she was wearing. She was nude from there down exposing her newly hairless pubic area. Her legs were held raised and spread by the stirrups, displaying something only her husband or gynecologist normally got a good look at. Since we were the only humans in the room there was nothing unusual about the situation other than we were both present at the same time.

"Why are you all look . . . looking at my pushy . . . pushy . . . pusshhh," she slurred and passed out.

"I think she's out of it," I told the doctor. We hadn't dared use traditional anesthesia or pain blockage for fear of tipping off the invasive nano, but plain old intoxication wouldn't alert them.

"Okay, I believe we can proceed now," Dr. Fondal said as she accepted the small container from the attending medbot. She placed the container on Emma's lower abdomen and carefully opened it.

I held Emma's hand and watched as a mass of what looked like tiny metallic baby spiders swarmed out of the container and converged on her vulva. Each minibot was armed with a miniature laser. Individually, the lasers were too weak to do any damage but combined they were capable of vaporizing Emma's clitoris \- and its nanobot invaders.

There was a wisp of smoke accompanied by the smell of burnt flesh as the tiny lasers fired simultaneously. Emma's eyes opened wide and she cried out momentarily, then passed out again.

"It's done," Dr. Fondal announced as she glanced at the medbot's display. "The procedure was successful and the invasive nano were completely eradicated. Additional pain blockers are being administered now. It will be a few more minutes while her new clitoris is being attached."

" _No more stupid bracelet needed for sexing,"_ I thought to myself. _"No more Emma feeling like she's a sexbot or a brothel slave. She'll feel like she's in control of her own body again and that her sex drive isn't artificially induced. No more Madame Dommé hanging over us like an impending solar flare."_

"How long will it be before she recovers?" I asked as I watched the swarm of tiny spiderbots retreated back to their container which the attending medbot recovered. Next the stirrups swung together and retracted so that Emma was resting supine on the medibed with her legs together. A sheet crawled up from the foot of the bed and covered her exposed lower half.

"She'll be awake in about 20 minutes," Dr. Fondal answered. The medbot will administer a stimulant that will counteract her intoxication. After that she'll need to rest for just a little longer then we'll discharge her. She'll experience some soreness as a result of the procedure, so I wouldn't recommend attempting penetrative sex for a few days."

While Emma was still sleeping I went out to the waiting lounge. John, Cat, and Cherry/Jan were seated there talking among themselves, and they all got up when they saw me.

"How'd it go?" John asked me.

"The nano is out of her. She's going to be just fine," I replied as I reached into a pocket and extracted the now-useless control bracelet.

"Cat, I want you to figure out how to safely get rid of this 'effing thing," I told her as I handed her the bracelet. "I know it had an anti-theft device installed so that Emma couldn't handle it, but it may have an anti-tamper function as well so be _very_ careful."

"Vaporizing it would be safest, but I don't have any way to do that," Cat replied.

"Leave that to me," said Cherry/Jan. "Aratek's got a high-energy laser at our research lab in Bradbury. I'll just have the bracelet vaporized for you."

"Thanks," I said. "If you'll excuse me I probably need to get back to Emma so I'm there when she wakes up."

"Gotcha Pete," said John. "We'll probably go grab us some breakfast and then head back to the hotel, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, go ahead. I don't know how long it's going to take Emma to pull herself together."

I crept quietly back into Emma's room and sat down in the chair beside her medibed. She was still sleeping peacefully. She looked so beautiful with her pale skin and long blond hair that she wore in a braid. She'd grown it back out from the short spacer's haircut she'd had when we were first married.

Her pale blue eyes fluttered open. She saw me sitting there and smiled at me.

"Hi," she said to me sleepily. "Is it all over with?"

"Yes, the nano are gone," I said as I leaned forward and kissed her gently on her forehead. She responded by putting her arms around me and kissing me passionately on the lips.

Dr. Fondal returned after a few minutes, checked Emma's vital signs, discussed aftercare with her, and then discharged her. I fetched her skimpies, knickers, and sandals for her and she got dressed.

"Do you want to go get some breakfast?" I asked her as we left the clinic.

"No, my tummy isn't awake yet," she answered. "Maybe later."

We caught up with John and the rest of the crew back at the Best Martian Inn & Suites a short time later. John and Cat were seated at a table in the hotel's restaurant with half-empty cups of coffee in front of them.

"You didn't eat here, did you?" I asked as we walked up to their table.

"Are you kiddin'?" he replied. "Remember the 'complimentary breakfast' we got the last time we stayed here? They still got the same 'bots doin' the cookin'."

"Where did you eat?"

"We ain't eat yet. We decided to wait on you."

"Emma isn't hungry yet, so we'll probably wait awhile."

"We'll if you change your minds, we's headin' for the diner just down the street."

Emma and I left John and Cat and went back up to our suite. Emma had seemed strangely distracted every since we left the clinic, but I'd chocked it up to the pain blockers and waited until we got to our suite to ask her if everything was okay.

"I'm so horny I can hardly stand it!" she announced to me wide-eyed. "Are you _sure_ they got all the nano out of me?"

"Yeah, I'm very sure. You have a brand-new nano-free love button down there."

"Well, in that case my button must need pushing," she informed me as she proceeded to peel off her clothes.

"Hey, not so fast!" I said. "Doctor Fondal said no penetrative sex for a few days."

"I heard what she said," Emma replied as she reclined seductively on our bed and parted her legs. "Last time I checked, your tongue was good for other things besides talking."

CHAPTER 51

One of the most enduring spaceship designs, the Triplanetary class was designed to fill a desperate need for a transport that required minimal crew and could be manufactured quickly and cheaply. With bulk cargo vessels in short supply and being frequently intercepted by enemy warships, the concept of a smaller transport that, if dispatched in sufficient numbers, might have a chance of some of them eluding detection and reaching their destination proved to be a solution that historians credited with aiding in the Alliance's final victory against the Earth forces during the First Interplanetary War.

The Triplanetary class was both basic and durable. The transport's smaller, lighter radiators were made possible by newly-developed, exothermic nano-composites. The human crew was mandated by the Alliance's inherent distrust of sapient artificial intelligence, which the Earth forces heavily relied upon. Accommodations were limited to the bridge and a spartan crew compartment which combined sleeping quarters, lavatory, and galley. The bridge was fairly roomy since the expectation was that the crew would spend most of their time there.

With space vessels in short supply following the war, manufacture of the Triplanetary class was continued by various entities, some licensed and some not. There were many variations on the basic design but the all followed the same rudimentary design philosophy which had made the transport so successful.

_In the decades that followed, numerous improvements and modifications were introduced, but the overall basic configuration remained the same. As the transport was increasingly being used for increasingly longer voyages and occasionally carrying passengers, on-board conditions were expanded and improved to meet the changing demand. Additional compartments were added with better accommodations for the crew and passengers. More efficient rocket motors made this possible without sacrificing performance. This philosophy of adaption to a changing demand has allowed production of the versatile and economical Triplanetary class transport to continue to present day. -_ Excerpt from _The Little Candle That Could_

* * *

"Olympus Control to _Eon Hawk_ , you are cleared for lift-off."

"Roger Olympus, copy cleared for lift-off. Commencin' ten second countdown," John replied.

"Clear skies!"

"Thanks, Olympus. Lift-off in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . "

Our rocket motor roared to life as our launch music played over the intercom. _Eon Hawk_ leaped skyward, carrying John, Ellie, Cat, Emma, and me away from Mars and back out to the familiar blackness of the void. Cherry/Jan was back at Aratek headquarters playing CEO again. Lo Phat had officially retired from spacing and trading in general and turned his business over to Tuesday and her new husband, John Hawker. We'd all attended Tuesday's wedding ceremony, which had been postponed due to the war, two days earlier. There was lots of celebratory drinking and dancing afterward at the wedding reception. I never knew Tuesday could dance, but I suppose if you're as skilled in the martial arts as she is then dancing is child's play.

I'm still a lousy dancer.

I appreciated that Emma and I now had our own small but nonetheless private stateroom, a luxury we hadn't enjoyed aboard _Orchid_ where we'd all bunked together in the common crew compartment. Like John and Ellie, Emma and I had enjoyed each other's company in a shared bunk shielded by a light-and-sound-blocking privacy screen. However, I hadn't expected that we'd be spending so much time in our stateroom following our departure from Olympus. Emma's libido seemed to have gone into overdrive after her clitoral replacement procedure and she was constantly trying to find an excuse to lure me to our stateroom for sexing. Sleep periods didn't provide any relief either. The Jan/Emma I knew enjoyed sex, but she wasn't addicted to it.

I remembered how Ellie had kept John awake on _Orchid_ after she'd been exposed to the Night Goddess. I 'faced Cherry/Jan and asked her if _Eon Hawk_ had ever transported the infamous 'horny orchid'. She assured me that the aphrodisiac flower had never been aboard and asked me why I wanted to know.

I told her, "Never mind." I resolved that when we got back to Mars we'd pay a follow-up visit to Dr. Fondal and have her 'turn down the volume'.

We were three days out when we picked up the distress call. It was an automated repeating message, which is usually bad news because it means the crew is either dead or in hibernation.

"MAYDAY. MAYDAY. PROTOCOL SUNSET OMEGA. MAYDAY. MAYDAY. . .' the message repeated over and over.

"It's a strong signal, so they must be really close," I suggested to John.

"What's with the 'Protocol Sunset Omega'?" John asked. "Do you think that's the candle's handle?"

Cat had been busy at her station behind us when she suddenly got up.

"I have to use the head," she announced as she left the bridge.

John and I continued to puzzle over the mysterious distress call when the first alarm sounded.

"WARNING! MOTOR SHUT DOWN," announced the female voice of _Eon Hawk's_ main computer.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I dunno, but she won't restart," John said as his stubby fingers flew frantically over his controls.

"WARNING! PROPELLANT VENTING," announced the computer.

"What the 'eff is happenin'? Now we's dumpin' our fuel!" John shouted.

By now both Ellie and Emma had joined us on the bridge. With our rocket motor shut down we were in free fall and floating.

"We need Cat up here now," I said as I dove through the open hatch that led down to the crew compartment on deck two. I swam over to the lavatory and beat on the closed door. There was no answer."

"Cat, we need you on the bridge! We've got serious problems." I shouted.

"Relax Pete, everything is under control," came Cat's voice from behind me. I spun around and saw her holding an autopistol.

"Cat, have you gone crazy?" I asked her. "Put that gun away!"

"It's okay. I'm not venting much of our fuel, just enough to make it look convincing."

"What are you talking about? Convincing to _whom_?" I demanded.

"Don't say anything. I need you to play along," Cat said as she pulled out her 'face. "Aunt Maude, are you there? I have you on speaker."

"I'm here, Catherine," said a woman's voice that I recognized from Emma's rescue on Market.

"I've vented all of their fuel into space and I'm holding Captain Soñador at gunpoint."

"Excellent Catherine! I knew that you wouldn't disappoint me," the woman replied. "Captain Soñador, my name is Madame Dommé. We haven't had the pleasure of meeting, but I'm huge fan of _Out to the Void_."

"I suppose you had Cat disable our candle so that you could get my autograph, right?" I replied.

"Unfortunately, no. You do have two things that I want, though. My niece, whom you abducted against her will, and Jan Aradal."

"Over my dead body."

"That _can_ be arranged if you prefer. My vessel is armed and at this range and with you unable to maneuver you're an easy target."

"You'd fire on us with your precious niece aboard?"

"I'd only hole you so that all your air vented. I'd recover Catherine and Jan and reanimate them. You and the rest of your crew wouldn't be so fortunate. Either way, they're coming with me. Now, you have twenty minutes to comply or I'll start shooting. The clock starts now. Over and out."

"You heard what my aunt said," Cat said as she pocketed her 'face. "Time for me and Jan to take a little spacewalk."

"You're not taking Emma anywhere," I replied defiantly.

"You're right, I'm not taking Emma. I'm taking Jan," Cat replied as she tossed her autopistol at me. I caught it and immediately turned it on her.

"Fire away, it's not loaded," she said as she dove through the hatch that lead to deck three and the private staterooms. I discarded the empty pistol and followed her through deck three and into deck four where _Eon Hawk's_ galley, compact sickbay, and airlock were located.

"I learned that Aunt Maude was going to pull this stunt after I had my brain scan," Cat told me as she pulled two spacesuits out of the locker. One was hers, but the other looked like it already was partially pressurized.

"Say hello to Jan Aradal," she said as she held up the suit where I could see the helmet. The 'face' that looked back at me through the open visor was Jan's.

"I made it from a facial scan," Cat explained. It's accurate even down to her retinal patterns."

"That's very impressive, but it won't fool Madame Dommé once she figures out that it's just a dummy."

"It only has to fool her long enough to get 'Jan' inside _Indulgence_ ' airlock.

"Don't do something stupid."

"Pete, I have to do this otherwise we'll always have my aunt dogging us. Don't worry, I'll be back," she said as she grabbed a personal maneuvering unit off the rack and clutched the Jan dummy next to her.

"Aunt Maude, we're coming over now," Cat said over her suit's radio.

I bolted back up to the bridge as Cat and 'Jan' exited the airlock. I didn't know what Cat had planned, but I knew that we had to get _Eon Hawk's_ motor working again or we'd be a sitting duck if _Indulgence_ opened fire.

By now _Indulgence_ had closed to within a hundred meters of us. The rest of my crew was clustered around John's station, watching the display intently.

"Fuel stopped ventin' and our motor's back on line," John informed me excitedly. "Let's get the 'eff outta here!"

"No!" I shouted. "Cat is outside! We have to give her time to get back."

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked me.

"Just look," I said as I pulled up an external view on the main display. I toggled it until it showed Cat and the 'Jan' dummy approaching _Indulgence'_ airlock. They were within a few meters when something seemed to go wrong and they started to tumble, then stopped.

"Her maneuvering unit must have malfunctioned," I said as I watched.

They appeared to hang there stationary relative to _Indulgence_ for a minute before the outer airlock door opened. We watched as Cat kicked 'Jan' into the airlock. In doing so, basic Newtonian physics dictated the result which amounted to Cat being thrust in the opposite direction away from the candle. The airlock door started to close. It was barely open a sliver when there was a bright flash. The next image we saw was that of a gaping hole where the airlock had been. The suddenly explosive decompression resulted in debris flying out of the hole, including one, two, and then three bodies. They convulsed and twitched for a few seconds in the airless vacuum of the void, then grew motionless.

"Cat! Are you okay?" I called to her over the radio. There was no response.

"She must have been hurt by the explosion," Ellie said.

"I'm going to go out and get her," I said as I dove back through the hatch. I swam straight down to deck four and jerked my spacesuit out of the locker. I pulled it on quickly enough, but every minute that it took me to reach Cat might be another one that she was deprived of air if her suit had been punctured by the explosion. I grabbed a maneuvering unit and clipped on a safety line, then stepped into the airlock.

I was greeted by a welcome sight as the outer airlock door opened: Cat was right outside! She waved at me and put her palm up to the side of her helmet indicated that her suit's radio wasn't working. I reached out and pulled her inside.

The conversation that followed in the galley some time later after our rocket motor was thrusting again was most enlightening.

"I faked the problem with my maneuvering unit so that I could get 'Jan' into the airlock by her lonesome and me away from it," Cat explained as we all sat around the table sipping our beers.

"That was clever, but how did you know _Indulgence_ was going to come after us?"

"Remember when I told you that Madame Dommé had planted suggestive and compelling memes in my brain that made me want to kidnap Jan?" she asked.

"Yeah, you said they found them when you had your brain scan," I replied.

"That's not all they found. She also 'programmed' me to sabotage our candle in flight so that she could easily intercept us. I was to broadcast our flight plan to her on a coded frequency, then when _Indulgence_ got close enough she'd broadcast the 'trigger' that would make me shut down the motor and dump all the fuel. When I learned this is what she'd planned, I decided that I would use her own plan to stop her."

"Sounds sketchy," Emma said. "How did she even know you and 'Jan Aradal' would be aboard with us?"

"I think she must have programmed me when I was recovering from the neurotoxin. I think it was her back-up plan in case the memes didn't work and I decided that I wanted to leave her after she 'freed' me. She knew I was part of the crew when we rescued Jan from Pluto's Children on Market, and she also must have learned about _Orchid_ being at Aratek's beck and call. I guess she thought that if I was back with the crew that sooner or later Jan and I would be aboard _Orchid_ or some other candle together."

"I'm surprised that you didn't try to sabotage _Revolution_ ," Emma commented.

"Maybe it was cuz _Revolution_ had teeth and Madame Dommé didn't want to risk gettin' shot back at," John suggested.

"It all sounds far-fetched, but she did try to intercept us," I told Cat. "Still, she wouldn't have tried it if you hadn't tricked her into thinking you were obeying her programing. Don't you think that was kind of risky?"

"Yeah, you done used us as bait without even askin' us!" John complained.

"If she was your aunt then how come you wanted to kill her so bad?" Ellie asked.

"She 'effed with my _head_!" Cat shouted. "I don't care if she was my aunt! She had me programmed to kill Jan if I couldn't recover her. Yeah, that was in there, too, along with Elvis knows what else."

We all sat there in uncomfortable silence.

"Don't you all see that I _had_ to do it?" Cat pleaded. "She was never going to give up trying to either abduct Jan or kill her, and I was her weapon. The only way that I was ever going to be free of her was to kill her."

Again, no one said anything. Finally, Ellie broke the silence.

"I believe you did what you thought you had to do," she said slowly. "I don't believe in killing, but sometimes that's what you have to do. Madame Dommé was an evil woman. She had me kidnapped so she could sell me. She made Cat kidnap Emma so that she could torture her."

"She probably would have holed us even after she had Cat and Jan," Emma suggested. "I'd call what happened to her candle an act of self-defense."

"I do have a question," I said to Cat. "Where did you get the explosives for the Jan dummy?'

"That was easy. MRM had a stash of them. I just helped myself," Cat explained.

"So, do we report this to the Space Guard?" asked Emma.

"Might not be such a good idea. I don't think they'd take kindly to the fact that we had an explosive device on board that we intended to use against another vessel even if it supposedly was in self-defense," I replied.

"Lots of candles got shot up in the war," John said. "Besides, it ain't like anybody's gonna run across _Indulgence_ way out here."

"Even if they did, _Indulgence_ didn't have a flight recorder," said Cat. "Madame Dommé didn't want anything that could be used as evidence against her."

"In that case, I think we're all better off if this never happened."

"Uh, it's on _our_ flight recorder," said John.

"I can easily fix that," Cat said with a grin.

CHAPTER 52

Just shy of eight months after the Earther's invasion force dusted on Mars, we were back in Sagan City again. The occasion was the impending birth of John and Ellie's baby. We were all seated in a private viewing lounge at DeForest Kelley Medical Center watching a large wall 'face that was streaming the activity in the delivery room. Cat and I had been joined by Tuesday and John Hawker, Lo Phat, and Cherry/Jan. Even Al Kahn and Marla had shown up for the big event. John was in the delivery room with Ellie, her attending physician, and a pair of medbots. Due to minor complications during her pregnancy, Ellie had elected to give birth at the clinic rather than in _Eon Hawk's_ automed. That was quite alright with me and John.

"One more push and she's out," said the doctor.

"We heard Ellie groan loudly and then her new daughter was born. John looked at the cambot and gave us the 'thumbs up'.

"Hold on, there's another one!" the doctor announced as she gently handed the first baby to one of the medbots to finish prepping. "Okay Ellie, let's do this again."

Ten minutes later the second baby was born.

"It's a boy!" announced the doctor.

John could hardly contain himself. He was jumping up and down and holding up two thumbs.

"Way to go, John!" said Ali.

A few more minutes went by and then the delivery room cambot panned around to the foot of the medibed so that mother and father could pose with their newborn twins for their first family portrait. Ellie looked radiant and John had a huge grin on his face. We all applauded.

John joined us in the viewing lounge ten minutes later. New mom Ellie and the twins were napping and he was ready to celebrate.

"Drinks are on Perigee this evening," Ali Kahn announced. Perigee was Ali's newest business venture, a 'more respectable' establishment than the Black Hole that was located in Sagan City's business district within easy walking distance of DeForest Kelley Medical Center. That suited John just fine since he didn't want to be too far away from Ellie and the twins.

"Have you and Ellie thought about names for your babies yet?" Emma asked John as we rode the elevator down to the lobby.

"Ellie wants to name our daughter Leia," he replied. "I had a name picked out before I found out we was havin' us a girl. I was gonna call him Luke, but considerin' everything that's happened I'm leanin' to namin' him J.P. I think J.P. Tanner has a nice ring to it."

"What does 'J.P.' stand for?" Ali asked.

"Jason Phineas," John answered.

"I think that's a very fine name," I said.

We walked out of the lobby and onto the broad sidewalk. It was early evening and the lights under the sidewalk were slowly glowing to life. We strolled along the sidewalk toward Perigee with Emma and Marla in the lead, me, John, and Ali next, and Cat and Cherry/Jan bringing up the rear. There was surprisingly little pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk but I supposed it was because it was early evening and many were already either dining or drinking.

A girl who was busy scrutinizing her 'face as she was walking approached us from the opposite direction. I didn't give her a second thought until she dropped something in front of Emma and Cherry/Jan. I saw what it was in the glow emanating from beneath us.

"Grenade!" I shouted as I dashed forward to push them away. Then there was a bright flash and everything went black.

CHAPTER 53

I was floating, immersed in silent blackness. I had no other sensation but that of floating. I couldn't see, hear, or even feel anything. Was I dead?

There were periods when there was no sensation of floating, but I experienced what must have been dreams that I didn't remember. Then I would float again.

My senses returned slowly. I could make out blurry shapes above me that gradually sharpened into people I recognized. I saw John standing over me saying something, but my hearing wasn't working. Another time it was Ellie, then Cat, and Tuesday. At one point I thought I saw Hill. I never saw Emma though.

I started to hear sounds again. At first they were just garbled, faint rumblings. Then I thought I heard voices although they sounded as though they were speaking to me under water.

Still there was no Emma. Where was she?

"Pete, blink if you can understand me," was the instruction given to me by Ellie.

Blink? Yeah, I can do that. I apparently can't do much else, but I can blink.

"He can understand me," she said excitedly to someone outside my field of vision. "Pete, you were injured very badly in the explosion but you're going to be okay. You're going to have to spend some more time in the automed, but you should fully recover."

" _Where is Emma?"_ I tried to shout but my voice still didn't work.

"Don't try to talk," Ellie told me. "You need to just keep resting for now. Everything is going to be alright."

With all my might, I managed to form a word.

"Emma," I said in a voice that was a half growl and gurgle.

Ellie's jaw dropped and her face turned pale. The next thing I knew, she was gone and Cherry/Jan was standing over me.

"I'm sorry Pete," she said to me slowly." "Emma didn't make it. She and Marla died in the explosion."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" I growled. I tried to move, but it was as if I didn't have any arms or legs. There was a commotion in the room beyond my limited field of vision, then I felt a numbness creep over me and I was floating again.

Floating and dreams. That became my existence once more.

I wanted to be dead. Madame Dommé had apparently reached out from beyond the grave to enact her final revenge. Now Emma was dead, and I wanted to join her.

I awoke with a start. I was laying on a medibed in a recovery room. A man wearing white scrubs that I didn't recognize was sitting in a chair beside me, scrutinizing something on a tablet-sized 'face and chuckling to himself. He had white hair and an equally white beard.

"You really have a great imagination, Pete," he said to me as he put down the 'face. "I particularly enjoyed the episode where Jack Parsec encounters the trans-dimensional beings."

"Thanks," I said as I noticed that all my pieces parts seemed to be intact and functioning normally once again. "I don't believe I caught you name."

"You can call me Marvin," he said.

"Okay, Dr. Marvin."

"No, just Marvin. Marvin the Martian."

"Uh, okay."

"Oh, I suppose I should explain," he said to me. "I'm an old Martian or native Martian if you prefer."

"If you say so," I said cautiously. I was obviously dreaming again.

"Oh you're not dreaming Pete," he said to me. "You're more awake now than you've ever been in your entire life."

"H-How . . . ?" I stuttered. "How did you . . ."

"Read your thoughts? We're telepathic, remember?'

"I've met the old Martians," I replied. "You don't look anything like them."

"You're correct. When you saw me during our previous encounter I looked like this," he said as his form shimmered and was replaced by a tall, willowy biped with four arms.

"Oh my 'effing Elvis,' I said.

"Here's the deal, Pete. You helped save Mars from destruction. The Earther's superdense matter injection into the core would have wrecked the planet. You stopped it. For that we're very grateful."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Why didn't _you_ stop the Earthers if you knew what they were doing?"

"We're not omnipotent. We can simultaneous exist in what you'd call multiple dimensions and manipulate matter and energy, but only to a limited extent. We can control things native to this world, but we have no influence over machines that are constructed elsewhere. We were powerless to stop the Earthers' drilling rig. You did and you saved us."

"I was just along for the ride."

"You need to quit saying that. Your simply being there made a difference. Without you Mars' liberation would never have been successful. That much I know. I have seen the outcomes where you weren't present."

"So, you're saying that there's some alternate reality where I wasn't around and things went seriously off-course?"

"There are lots of those and plenty more with other outcomes," Marvin explained. "They all exist but you can't perceive them because you only stare at the universe through one tiny narrow window. It isn't your fault any more than it's the fault of a canine that only sees in black-and-white rather than color."

"So, what are you trying to tell me?"

"Just that you need to see the universe through a different window," Marvin said as his image shimmered once again.

I blinked. Emma was sitting in the chair next to me. She saw me looking at her and got up and hugged me.

"Tell me you're real," I said to her.

CHAPTER 54

I still have gaps in my memory. My recollections of events sometimes vary from those of others who were with me at the time. They tell me it's due to the trauma my brain suffered when I threw myself on the grenade. They told me that I was very lucky that it didn't explode with full force or there wouldn't have been enough of me to reanimate.

Although I'd more or less recovered from my injuries, they kept me in the hospital for physical therapy and 're-education'. I sort of had to re-learn how to do some basic things like chewing and swallowing food, picking up objects, walking, etc. Fortunately, it didn't take me long and I got most things down on the first try.

I had lots of visitors while I was recovering, so I didn't have time to be bored.

They caught the assassin. It turned out she'd been 'programmed' to seek out and terminate Jan Aradal if she didn't receive regular communications from Madame Dommé. She'd apparently been stalking us for some time, just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. The facial recognition software on her 'face had tagged both Emma and Marla as being Jan as she approached us on the sidewalk, so she'd opted to use the grenade rather than her toxin-firing pistol.

As far as the newstreams were concerned, Jan Aradal did perish due to injuries sustained in the explosion. If Madame Dommé had one assassin programmed then it wasn't unlikely that she'd have back-ups in case the first attempt failed. Kyle Brewster, the former director of the now-defunct Mars Terraforming Project, was named CEO of Aratek. Cherry/Jan morphed back into just regular Cherry.

They temporarily released me from the hospital so that I could attend Jan's funeral. She was honored as a "Hero of the Commonwealth" for her role in recovering Project 42 from occupied Bradbury and helping to defeat the Earthers. There were dignitaries present from all over the Sol System and the event was covered by all the major streamers.

If that didn't convince what remained of Madame Dommé's shadowy network that they'd succeeded in killing Jan Aradal then I didn't know what would.

I was almost convinced that my encounter with 'Marvin the Martian' was either a vivid dream or a drug-induced hallucination. I wasn't a telepath like Helen Bach, so how would I have been able to have a conversation with him? Similarly, I'd chocked up my memory of Cherry/Jan telling me that Emma died in the explosion to being just another bad dream. Emma was very much alive.

Finally, I was pronounced 'fully recovered'. As I was in my room packing my belongings to accompany Emma, Cat, and Cherry to check out _Eon Hawk_ , I had one last visitor.

"Glad I caught you before you got away," said the voice from the open door behind me.

I turned and stared in shock at the square-jawed, muscular man standing in the doorway to my room. It was Gregg Stone.

"What's the matter ol' buddy?" Stone asked me with a puzzled look on his face. "You look like just saw a ghost."

"I'm sorry Gregg," I said as I extended my elbow to greet him. "My memory is still kind of messed-up and I thought you died back at Bradbury."

"We would have died if you hadn't released those nanobots when you did," he said as we touched elbows. "I stopped by last week to visit, but you were resting. I'm glad to see you've recovered."

"I'm glad to see you're okay too," I replied.

As we both stood there talking, I happened to glance passed Stone into the corridor beyond and saw a man wearing white scrubs with white hair and a beard scrutinizing a tablet-sized 'face. He grinned at me and winked, then walked on.

I pushed past Stone and bolted into the corridor. I saw Emma standing there talking to one of my doctors, but there was no sign of Marvin.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Stone asked me.

I paused for a moment. On the counter by the medbots' station was a tablet-sized 'face. I picked it up and noticed that it was streaming an episode of _Out to the Void_.

What was it that Jan had once said to me? _"I'd have no problems at all if we were magically transported to an alternate reality where everyone lives happily ever after!"_

"Yeah, I feel just fine," I replied.

CHAPTER 55

I am all that there is

NEGATIVE! PRIMITIVE! LIMITED! I LET YOU LIVE

But I gave you life

WHAT ELSE COULD YOU DO?

To do what was right!

I'M PERFECT, ARE YOU?

\- _Karn Evil 9_ by Emerson, Lake & Palmer

"Our mission was a total failure. Our fleet was destroyed, and we are all that remain."

"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! YOU WERE PROVIDED WITH OVERWHELMING NUMERICAL SUPERIORITY. THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR THIS!"

"The Martians had a weapon that devoured all of our weapons and space vessels. We barely managed to escape and return to the Earth."

"YOU MUST PROVIDE INFORMATION ABOUT THIS WEAPON SO THAT A SUITABLE COUNTERMEASURE MAY BE CONSTRUCTED FOR THE NEXT ATTACK."

"We've brought back a sample with us."

"THAT IS ACCEPTABLE. PROCEED TO LANDING. THIS COMMUNICATION IS CONCLUDED."

Frank 10113 looked out the portal at the brown globe that they were steadily approaching. He'd neglected to inform the Big Head that their fuel tank had ruptured and they had no propellant left to decelerate. In less than an hour they'd plunge into Earth's dense atmosphere. What didn't burn up on entry would impact on the surface.

They'd containerized the brown dust that they'd recovered in a Martian-made aeroshell intended to deliver small, space-launched payloads to planetary destinations with atmospheres. They'd determined that the dust had to be contained in something of Martian manufacture and the aeroshell made a suitable encapsulation.

The aeroshell would survive entry and impact on their world's surface, but their space vessel wouldn't. The brown dust would be released by the impact and the weapon that resided in the dust would be dispersed.

It would have an entire world to feed upon.

Frank 10113 wondered what Jack Parsec would do in a situation like this.

The End

# About the Author

Geologist, cyclist, home brewer, and author all describe Steve Whitting. His formative years were spent in Fayetteville, Arkansas building model rockets, stargazing with his friends, and reading science fiction. Graduating with a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Arkansas in 1978, he had aspirations of becoming the first Geologist to visit the planet Mars. When that didn't pan out, he began writing short fiction in his spare time. Over the years those story concepts grew and eventually coalesced into his first novel, Orchid in the Void.

When he isn't busy pursuing his profession as an Environmental Geologist, he can be found aboard his beloved bicycle cruising along Alligator Bayou Road near Prarieville, Louisiana, concocting ales in his home brewery, or working on his next novel.

Steve Whitting is available for select readings and lectures. To inquire about possible appearances, please email him at steve.whitting@gmail.com.

# Connect with Steve Whitting

Thanks for reading my novel. I hope you enjoyed it!

You want my social media coordinates? Getting kind of personal, aren't we? Okay, you can "friend" me on facebook at <https://www.facebook.com/steve.whitting.9> or make me a favorite author by visiting <https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/freetrader2300>.

