Losing Mars (Saving Mars Series-3) (27 page)

Pavel fumbled in the outer pocket of his jacket and removed a wafer. One by one, he watched all his favorite vid clips of space exploration: the first lunar landing, the first remote video transmission from Mars, the first steps taken upon Mars by humans. He especially loved that one for the astronaut’s inability to speak the speech that had no doubt been composed for the broadcast. Instead of speaking as she took her first steps upon the red planet, she had laughed uncontrollably, unabashedly, overwhelmed by the greatness of the experience of setting foot on another world.

The speech had come later, but no one remembered that vid. No one had been inspired to sign on for future missions based on the speech. But her laughter—that had launched a generation of Mars settlers to seek the stars.

Pavel sighed and flicked his wafer off. He would not follow those pioneers. Mars was lost to him now. But if he negotiated well with his aunt, it would not be lost to Jessamyn.

The more Pavel thought of it, the more it seemed he had made the right choice. At his aunt’s side, he could influence her, persuade her. He could stand as an advocate for the world he’d come to love because of Jessamyn. These thoughts filled him with a sense of noble purpose. He was where he was supposed to be.

Nevertheless, his heartbeat sped as he heard the arrival outside of his aunt’s vehicle. Strange how the sounds he hadn’t heard for months were all so easily recognizable. Felt so immediately familiar.

He stood in the foyer as he knew Zussman would have stood to welcome Lucca home from an exhausting evening.

“Hello, Aunt.” His voice, though soft, echoed in the vast and imposing entry.

For a moment, her posture reminded him of that of a Yuccan citizen upon encountering a rattlesnake. The same frozen alertness to danger, the same instant assessment of its immediacy. Her bodyguards trained weapons on him. He’d expected this and raised his hands in a slow arc, wide to either side of his body.

“I’m not here to make trouble,” he said.

Lucca gave a swift and silent sign to the men at her side. They relaxed their weapons but not their watchfulness.

“But how lovely to see you, dear boy,” drawled the Chancellor. “I was expecting you, originally, to arrive with your little friend and the impersonator. I was very disappointed when Gaspar arrived without you.” She removed a pair of white gloves, long and immaculate, holding them out for a moment before she seemed to take note of Zussman’s absence.

“I told Zussman to go to bed,” said Pavel. “Allow me to help you with your wrap.”

The weapons instantly snapped back to tracking Pavel’s head as he approached his aunt.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said the Chancellor to her guards. “It’s my nephew. I’m certain he promises to be good. Leave us.”

The guards hesitated a split-second.

“I said
, leave us
!” Lucca’s voice echoed magnificently in the foyer. She passed Pavel her gloves and wrap as she ascended the tall flight of stairs leading to the first floor. “Come with me, nephew. We have much to discuss.”

As Pavel expected, she led him to her office.

“I had other plans for the remainder of this evening,” said Lucca as she seated herself behind an expansive desk made of tempered glass. “But they will have to wait, I think.” She smiled and Pavel remembered how little smiles became her. She indicated a seat opposite her desk.

Pavel kept his hands locked behind his back and refused the seat she indicated.

“I have an offer to make you, Aunt.”

Her smile faded. “How charming. An offer.” She extended a hand, waved it airily. “Pray, continue.”

“I know you have my … my friend Jessamyn Jaarda,” said Pavel. “I want to offer my life in exchange for hers. Let her go free and I will serve you, exactly as you asked of me the day I turned eighteen. For the rest of my life.”

She leveled her eyes to catch his. When he was young, they’d done this as a game. He’d never been able to win the little competition of
who-will-blink-first
. But now he was grown. He was no longer a boy she could torment with games she’d perfected long ago. This time, after a long minute where neither blinked, neither looked aside, his aunt released his gaze to direct her eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh, Pavel,” she said, adding nothing to the utterance for several moments. “Do you know, you’re very like my father.” Her brows dropped and drew slightly closer.

She looked wistful. Pavel had anticipated several possible responses to his offer on the part of his aunt. This was not one of them.

“I never met my grandfather,” he replied. “I’m told I’m like my father.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” said Lucca, waving her hands as if to sweep the conversation or her own nostalgia aside. Then she brushed a manicured finger over a call button. “Zussman? You’re needed in my office.”

The butler’s voice answered, drowsily deferential, “At once, Madam.”

Pavel scowled, irritated by his aunt’s assumption that her butler should be at her beck and call at all hours. Of course, Pavel was placing himself in exactly the same position. Voluntarily. Perhaps Zussman had his reasons for doing so as well.

“What of my offer?” asked Pavel.

“I can’t say I’m inclined to accept it, dear boy.”

Pavel felt a low level of anger rising in his belly. He suppressed it. He needed to keep an even temper with his volatile aunt.

“I think you ought to accept,” he said calmly. “As you’ve told me, and as those observing my volunteer hours noted, I will make a fine physician. I can serve you in ways you haven’t even imagined. You and I are one another’s only living relations—”

“Enough, boy,” said his aunt.

Pavel felt himself flushing. He wished she wouldn’t make a point of calling him boy. It was done to irritate him, of course. He must not let himself become irritated.

His aunt spoke again. “All of your talents and skills are at my disposal already.”

Pavel shook his head. “I will only serve you if you let her go.”

“No, dear boy, I rather think you will serve me in any case.”

Upon hearing Zussman’s familiar tread, Pavel kept himself from responding. The butler might be old, but he was capable of defending Lucca, and Pavel did not intend to create a scene where the old man would have to choose between the two of them.

“You called, Madam?” asked the butler.

“Zussman,” replied the Chancellor. “I believe you are looking forward to retirement. What is it—less than a year now until I lose you?”

“Yes, Madam. Seven months until I fourbody, Madam.”

Lucca smiled. “You have plans, I assume. Will you advertise for a companion? Set up yourself up in a cozy cottage in Crete? Ibiza?”

“I had thought to try the Azores, Madam. A bit more off the beaten path, as they say.”

Pavel noted the man’s discomfort as the Chancellor questioned him upon matters personal.

“An excellent choice,” said Lucca. “I hear the Azores are lovely for most months of the year.”

“Yes, Madam.”

The Chancellor turned her gaze upon her nephew. She spoke slowly, enunciating each word with unusual care. “It would be a pity, would it not, nephew, if our dear Zussman were unable to enjoy his retirement?”

Pavel had expected something like this, but he found it difficult to contain the rage his aunt’s threats induced. It was even more intolerable to hear her make them in Zussman’s presence. Pushing past the sensation of anger, he found himself clenching his hands into tight fists and crossing to his aunt’s desk.

“What do you want, Aunt?”

Zussman stepped protectively toward his employer, but he did not move to threaten Pavel.

She fixed her eyes upon her nephew’s. “To begin with, I want you to assist at a transfer tomorrow morning. The Head of Global Transfer will be performing the rebody. It is important to me that nothing goes amiss.” She turned to her butler. “That will be all, Zussman. I wish you the best with all your plans, of course.”

Pavel’s eyes flickered briefly to where the butler stood. He watched as Zussman executed a neat bow. The old man’s face had taken on a tinge of sickly gray.

Waiting until the door closed behind Zussman, Pavel spoke in calm tones to his aunt. “I’ve already promised you my loyalty and my service. There was no need to threaten the old man.”

“Ah, but there was, my dear boy,” replied his aunt. “You promised your loyalty conditionally, requesting from me something I am not inclined to give. I am merely demonstrating that, despite your protestations, you will do what I request without my acquiescence to your offer.”

Pavel prepared to play his trump card.

46

COLD FIRE

An hour passed while Jessamyn waited under heavy guard. She’d been removed from the Chancellor’s sleeproom, or whatever that place had been, to something that resembled a prison cell. The second hour raced by, and the third seemed to pass in seconds and not minutes.

As the minutes following the third hour passed, Jess fell into a shivering that she was unable to stop. It was humiliating. She vowed she would not shake when the Chancellor came for her, but she knew it was a hollow promise. Her body would do what it wanted, regardless of her wishes. A fourth hour passed and Jessamyn no longer shook.

Instead, she felt once more the cold fire of the resolve that had filled her as she’d flown with Gaspar from Yucca. She asked herself what Mei Lo would do in this situation. It was a sobering question: Mei Lo would never allow Marsian security to be breached. The Secretary would find a way to end her life rather than allow truths to be tortured from her.

The thought provided Jessamyn with a resolution to act as Mei Lo would act. Her tiny room was bare of anything that might be put to self-destructive purposes. If Lucca meant to torture her for truths, however, Jess supposed that would mean sharp objects. And Lucca was overly confident in a way that led to carelessness. In Brian Wallace’s small cottage on the Isle of Skye, that carelessness had led to Jess plunging a scalpel into the Chancellor’s hand. Another opportunity such as that might yet arrive. Already this evening, Lucca had spent time in a room with Jess unshackled, however temporarily.

The next time the Chancellor made an error of judgment like that, Jess would be ready to act.
You’ve lost your own freedom
, she told herself grimly.
You will not, by prolonging your own life, be the cause of the loss of Marsian independence.

47

CARROT OR STICK

Pavel cleared his throat. "Let us return to my initial offer," he said to his aunt. "You must know I would not have come here unless I could provide you with additional incentives to set Jessamyn free."

Something flickered in Lucca's eyes, snake-like.

Pavel continued. "I was concerned you might make things difficult, so I have ensured that, should Jessamyn not arrive among friends within twenty-four hours, certain sensitive information about you will be disseminated to the news feeds. Information gathered from over thirty of your current and former employees. Taken together, it is rather damning, I'm afraid."

"I see," said Lucca. His aunt's expression had hardened into one that many might mistake for calm.

Pavel did not make that mistake.

"Would you like to reconsider and allow Jessamyn to go free?"

"My dear Pavel, do you think this is the first such storm I've had to weather? The first time my name has been dragged through the media mud?"

"I think this would be a scandal even your public relations team would find challenging. I think there would be an inquest into your recent election at the very least."

"It all sounds highly inconvenient, nephew."

"And it can all be avoided if you release the girl."

Lucca rose and activated a holographic image of Earth. She returned to her seat and gazed at the green and blue globe. "There are more important things at stake than your infatuation with a girl from another world, Pavel. The very safety of Earth is at risk. The two billion people in my care stand to face hunger, war, and poverty because of the actions of a handful eking out an existence millions of kilometers away."

"Jessamyn is not here to wage a war."

"Pavel," said Lucca, half a smile upon her face. "Oh, Pavel." She shook her head.

"I'm telling the truth. Grab the
Equidima
and ask me again. Jess just wants to get home."

"There’s no point in interrogating you. The girl has told you nothing of any true value. She's played you, Pavel. But make no mistake: she won't play me."

"Then you will be exposed, Aunt. By this time tomorrow, your name will be reviled around the world."

"Do you really think a setback like expulsion from office can stop me?"

"It will take years for you to regain the credibility you'll lose."

Lucca nodded. "It might. If I had a sentimental attachment to this body, to this identity."

Pavel reeled from the revelation; his aunt was claiming she would jump bodies. Why hadn’t he thought of this? It was so obvious a solution, for someone as amoral as his aunt. And what good would it do to accuse whoever Lucca became? Who would win that battle? His aunt would beat him, as assuredly as she was doing right now. Pavel’s shoulders sagged forward.

His aunt was not going to release Jessamyn.

Lucca interrupted his thoughts. "Do you remember how I used to explain my job to you, when you were young?"

Pavel’s voice was flat as he repeated the words she'd fed to him as a boy. "You said the world was like a vast garden and that you were the head gardener, directing others to keep out the weeds and the weevils." He sank into the seat he had refused earlier.

"It was a very good analogy,” said his aunt. “I stand prepared to give up anything, to make any sacrifice, in order to preserve the beauty and order of this garden we call Earth."

Revulsion kept Pavel from responding.

"My dear boy, I always have an exit strategy for contingencies like the one you think you can threaten me with. I will not release the girl.” She paused for a moment to let the words sink in. “You have, however, shown yourself more resourceful than I gave you credit for. There will always be a place for resourceful thinkers within my inner circle."