Cities of Mars: Free Space trilogy, #3

Chapter 1 – A City Away

Bob Churnod watched the bleak Martian landscape zip by through a grimy train window. Mountains and canyons and rock-strewn plains... it was all the same, really. Just useless land. Even the air was useless, what little of it there was. Only one thing in sight had any real value, and that was the sun. It was setting, and the sky, normally a pale orange during the day, had turned blue in the west. Bob had never been to Earth, but he knew from pictures and video that the colors were the opposite there: the sky was blue during the day, but turned red or orange at sunrise and sunset.

The train was southbound, so the day would be longer than the previous one. That was good. He always liked coming home. The north polar cap was depressing, and the best part of his job was heading back towards the equator with a trainload of ice. Ice mining was a Martian necessity, of course, and it was steady employment, but he never really got used to the loneliness and stark environment. And the dark. That was the worst part. But his two-week shift was over, and now he'd get a whole week off to recuperate.

He risked a glance at the guard. The man looked as bored as Bob felt. He sat in his sturdy plastic compartment, arms folded across his chest, and watched the miners through the transparent partition with half-closed eyes.

In some ways, the return voyage was the most dangerous part of being a polar miner. The men were at the ends of their ropes. Tempers were raw, patience was nonexistence, and violence was not uncommon. They were all technically free citizens, but they were treated like criminals anyway out of necessity. The shift was never truly over until a miner made it home safe and sound.

Bob shifted his gaze to the other miners. Some were seated, but others were on their feet, standing in the aisle. Standing and walking were allowed, encouraged even, since unused legs tended to stiffen up, but it still made for a delicate situation. A few miners huddled nearby, murmuring to one another and casting furtive glances at the guard. One of the men was Jerome Warski, a known troublemaker. He was a tall, lanky sort, with a quick temper and a quicker fist. He despised the rigid environment of the American Sector on Mars, and he wanted more than anything to defect to Nerio, the city for all nations but of none. The Nerians wouldn't have tolerated him for long—they were very tough on crime—but that didn't seem to matter to Warski. He brought the subject up virtually every day, and it was a wonder the cops hadn't picked him up for sedition. It was probably just a matter of time, though, and Bob wasn't keen on getting lumped in with him, so he tried to keep his distance when possible.

Unfortunately, Warski wasn't content to keep any sort of distance. The man was slowly making his way forward towards the guard. Just a little step every now and then, hardly enough to attract the man's attention. But he was definitely closing in, and the hairs on Bob's neck stood out. Something was going down.

Bob darted his eyes around, looking for an escape route or a hiding place or anything that would get him away from whatever was going to happen. There was nothing. He was on a train car full of miners, and there was simply nowhere to go. It was the last day of the trip, which meant the sleeping quarters had been cleared out and locked down as a theft preventative measure. They were now all stuffed in the embarkation car, waiting to get off. Any breach in the car's construction would cause a deadly loss of atmosphere, but claustrophobia still took its toll, and frazzled men didn't always make rational decisions. Sometimes they tried to break through windows. Sometimes they tried worse things.

That's far enough, Warski, barked the guard. He was safe from the men, locked away in his clear polymer cage, but an altercation would mean additional paperwork, so he had a vested interest in keeping the peace. He moved his hand to the sedative lever. Return to your assigned seat. Now.

Warski stopped, shrugged, and grinned. Just getting a little exercise. No harm meant.

Bob glanced up at the ceiling, expecting the nozzles to fill the car with sedative gas at any moment. He'd been gassed before, as had most of the men, and it wasn't fun. There weren't any permanent effects, but it left him with a hangover that lasted for two days. When you only got seven days off between shifts, two days was a big deal. He shut his eyes and hoped the better angels of Warski's nature got the upper hand.

Don't worry, Warski said to the guard. I'm going. He turned and shuffled back the way he came.

Bob exhaled with relief, and he resumed looking out the window. The American Sector, or AmSec as the government acronym went, was visible now, a few shining interconnected domes glinting dully under the Martian sun. They had a slight orange tinge due to a thin film of dust. The train headed straight for AmSec's docking and distribution area.

Several tunnels led away from the domes like spokes from the hub of a wheel. They connected AmSec with the domes of the other national cities as well as with Nerio, the one place not under the jurisdiction of any Earth government. His eyes drifted to it, the grandest city-state on the planet. It had started out as a collection of domes, like the other cities, but now those domes were mostly flat-roofed. The Nerians were constantly upgrading the place.

Like many Americans on Mars, and probably many people from the other national cities, too, Bob longed to go there. The foundation that ran Nerio had rules, of course, but it mainly left the people to themselves. He'd give almost anything to defect to it. Ice mining paid very well, but it couldn't provide the things he wanted most out of life.

A ruckus caught his attention, and he turned. A man was staggering forward, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and holding his belly. A dark stain blossomed on his coveralls, and his fingers were red and trembling. He raised his other hand towards the guard.

Bob looked for Warski. Sure enough, there he was, watching the wounded fellow with murderous eyes. He must have stabbed him on his way back. That was the whole point of Warski's little exercise, Bob realized. It was just an excuse to pass by his intended victim, to get close enough to stick him with the knife.

The guard cursed and reached for the lever.

Bob sighed. The next two days would not be fun. He thought of his wife, Gloria, and the stress that his gas hangover would add to both their lives. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to her, but that was life in AmSec. The gas hissed, and the last thing he saw before losing consciousness was one of the domes of Nerio, teasing him cruelly through the haze.

Chapter 2 – Arrival

Dale Kinmont stared out the observation window of the God's Eye Nebula. Mars loomed like an angry red eye, befitting its god of war namesake. Ellis Island Space Station, the United States Government's port-of-entry to the American Sector on Mars, had already zoomed past. Port Weir, the privately-owned station and international port, was approaching. It was an impressive facility and would soon obscure the planet from view.

Nearly there, Zack Kinmont said from behind him. He laid a hand on his nephew's shoulder. Then the real work begins.

Dale nodded absentmindedly. He didn't care about that. Well, he did, but not at that moment. All he could think about was Annora.

She'll make it, Zack said, as if reading his mind. The doctors here are the best in the solar system. Everything here is better, actually. Mars is wonderful. Not like Earth at all. You have to see it to believe it.

I hope you're right.

The distance closed, and Port Weir became the only thing in sight. It was a monstrous space station, bigger than any other Dale had seen, with rotating sections to simulate gravity and a variety of docks for every vessel type. Several Earth cultures had permanent communities there, and the station was full of amenities to cater to them. Every few minutes, a craft would dock or depart—some for the surface, others for another planet. Of all four planets' space stations, Port Weir seemed the biggest and busiest.

Come on, Zack said. We're going to dock soon. Let's get ready. He walked off, his sticky boots ripping away with every step and filling the air with their racket.

Dale turned from the window and followed him towards the airlock. His own boots added to the chorus.

They arrived at the inner airlock door and waited, joined by a steadily growing group of passengers. The ship continued to slow—it was barely moving now. The local Martian tugs gently nudged it into the proper vector. A few minutes later, the thuds and thumps of docking occurred. The ship sealed itself to the station, and then the vessel's outer door opened. The computer affirmed that the seal was good, and the inner door unsealed and slid open. A medical crew was waiting in the airlock.

Excuse us, please, the EMT in front said, bustling his way inside. The passengers parted to let them through.

Dale and Zack were already out of the way, and they watched the medics hurry into the ship. There were six of them, and they carried some medical gear that Dale couldn't identify. They disappeared down the corridor, filling the air with a cacophony of sticky-boot racket.

The other passengers began to disembark, but Dale and Zack stayed put. The crowd filtered out, and soon the two of them were alone.

A few minutes later, the medics reappeared with Annora. She was strapped to a sled and encased in some sort of semi-clear plastic cocoon. She was unconscious, of course, and her skin seemed way too pale, though that could have been a trick of the light. The sled had wheels, but they weren't in Port Weir's simulated gravity yet, so the medical crew simply floated her by hand through the ship's corridors. There were readouts and tubes and all sorts of things attached to both her and the sled. It gave her the semblance of a robot.

Dale pressed his lips tightly together. He had no idea what any of that stuff was, or what it was doing to her. All he could do was put his faith in the doctors and hope for the best.

The crew hurried past and carried her into Port Weir. Just like that, she was gone.

Dale lowered his head and sighed.

Come on, Zack said. She's out of our hands now. Worrying about her won't accomplish anything. And we've got other people depending on us. Nat Leland is still out there, and it's up to us to do something about him.

I'm ready. Dale sucked air into his nostrils with a hiss. He turned to Zack and looked him in the eye. I've never been more ready for anything.

Good. Then follow me.

They headed into the station.

* * *

You're sure we don't need armed guards? Dale asked as he walked down the corridor. It wasn't terribly crowded, but there were enough people coming and going to give him pause. He had already been shot at on two different space stations. He didn't want to add a third to the list.

We're fine, Zack replied. He nodded and smiled to a passerby. Like I said, Mars isn't like the other planets. Not at all. In Nerio and here on Port Weir, the people tend to be very independent. They certainly don't care much for Earth or its politics. We've got enemies on the planet, of course, but they're just government bureaucrats, not Leland's employees, and they'll stick to AmSec.

I hope you're right.

AmSec is where Leland and the government are most comfortable. There's also the matter of jurisdiction to consider. The feds won't risk an international incident if they don't have to.

Makes sense.

This is it, Zack said, gesturing with one hand and turning off the corridor. This is our ride.

They arrived at another dock. This one berthed the little shuttle in which they would soon leave for Red Sky, Tanaka-Chandra's space construction station.

Dale was a bit disappointed. He had hoped to see more of Port Weir. But Zack was right. It was time to get to work. It was time to skip over, something he had never heard of, but apparently referred to travel between space stations. He entered the boarding area for the shuttle.

There was a small crowd already there, waiting to skip over to Red Sky. They all seemed to recognize Zack. They weren't star-struck, though. They greeted him with casual waves and brief salutations, as if they were all old friends. One in particular, a tall woman in a gray business suit, walked up to them. She had a stern face that was more handsome than pretty, but also a dazzling smile full of perfect teeth. She had blonde hair that she wore up in a sort of bun. Everything about her gave off an aura of professionalism and competence.

Dale, Zack said, looking at him but gesturing to the woman, I'd like you to meet Eliza Solberg, Vice President of Martian Operations for Tanaka-Chandra Enterprises. Eliza, this is my nephew.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kinmont, Eliza said in a clipped, formal accent. I've heard a lot about you. She held out a hand.

Likewise, Miss Solberg. Dale shook her hand. But please... call me Dale.

Ya, I will. And call me Eliza.

Eliza's my right hand, Zack said to Dale. She's Nerian to the core. Born and raised right here on the red planet. She practically runs the company's Martian operations single-handedly. I'm glad you finally get to meet her.

You're just in time, gentlemen, Eliza said. The shuttle is about to board.

As if on cue, a voice spoke from the public address. Attention, outbound passengers. Red Sky shuttle has docked. Please allow inbound passengers to disembark before boarding. Thank you.

The door opened, and the shuttle's passengers filed into the station. When the flow slowed to a trickle, the travelers in the waiting area began to stream into the passageway.

Dale, Zack, and Eliza followed them.

* * *

Several minutes later, Dale gazed out the shuttle's window and got his first look at Red Sky Station, the heart of Tanaka-Chandra's shipbuilding operations.

It was much smaller than Port Weir, and there were no rotating sections to simulate gravity, but it was still very large. Dale estimated its size to be close to that of Phosphorus Station above Venus. Red Sky had a much more industrial look to it, with exposed pipes and trusses and pressure vessels. Frankly, it was ugly. It looked like something a drunken welder might cobble together. But what it lacked in aesthetics, it made up for in purpose.

An interplanetary passenger liner was being assembled in the main shipyard. Enormous robots moved massive modules into place. Other robots welded or Chandrapoxied ship components together. A few workers in spacesuits zipped around on thrusters, inspecting the work, but almost all of the tasks were automated. It was sometimes difficult to tell where one machine ended and another began. The overall impression was that of a ship seemingly constructing itself.

Fascinating, isn't it? Zack asked.

It's incredible, Dale said. I've never seen anything like it. I mean, I always knew how the ships got built, but knowing and seeing are two different things. It's not just images or video from millions of miles away. It's actually right here in front of me.

She'll be ready for space trials soon. I've had crews working round the clock since we left Solar Terminal. But we'll discuss all that in my office.

Okay. It truly was an awesome sight, and he couldn't take his eyes off the ship.

Chapter 3 – Preparations

They docked with Red Sky and disembarked. Some of the other passengers shook Zack's hand before heading off to their workplaces. The air was soon full of the ripping sounds of their boots.

Dale covered his ears. Those sticky boots are horrible. I've only worn them for short periods at a time. I can't imagine having to live in the things. How do all the workers deal with the racket?

Most of us use electronic plugs, Eliza said. She turned her head and pointed to her ear. There was a device wedged in there, barely visible. They're tuned to the particulars of the sounds the boots make. They cancel the noise out, but allow other sounds unimpeded. You'll want to get fitted for some if you intend to stay on Red Sky for very long.

Huh. I might just do that.

Eliza led them into the station. Her office was closer than Zack's, so they went there instead. She opened the door and held it for her guests.

Dale glanced around the office. It was small, but neat, and it gave an impression of order and efficiency. A pair of armchairs faced a cheap metal desk. Behind the desk was a large swivel chair, and behind that was a thick window. He walked over to the window and looked down. A sliver of Mars was visible below, shining bright and orange against the black backdrop. The surface was decorated with circles, polygons, ovals, and lines—the domes, tunnels, roads, and railroads of the settlements.

I've got all the data at hand here, Eliza said, gesturing to the screen on her desk. Please have a seat at the desk, Mr. Kinmont.

Zack sat in the swivel chair and began skimming the figures on the screen.

Dale pulled his gaze away from the window and walked around the desk. He and Eliza sat in the armchairs facing Zack.

I'm not happy with the progress of the ship, Zack said. He frowned at the screen. I'd like to speed it up. Your thoughts? He looked up at Eliza.

It won't be easy, she said. Or cheap. We're already on three shifts.

I think we can strip out a few things. Zack nodded at the data. The galley, for instance. No need to construct that. We'll just use the hibernation pods.

Not possible, I'm afraid. There aren't any pods available for installation. The manufacturer had some issues. Delivery was delayed.

How long?

Six months.

Zack swore softly. Then that's out. I guess we'll have to pack food after all. Dehydrated meals, I suppose. Packets that only require water to be added. That sort of thing.

Eliza made a face. That won't be popular.

We'll call them rations. The passengers will be going to defend Hesperus, after all, so they might as well start thinking of themselves as soldiers.

Are we sending employees to fight? Dale asked.

I'll get to that in a moment. Zack looked at Eliza. One month. I want the ship ready to go in one month. Pay whatever overtime you have to. Cut short the space trials. And forego any components that aren't absolutely necessary to get those men to Venus alive. Time is worth more than money, so spend whatever you need to meet the deadline.

Eliza nodded. Ya. Understood.

Now... about soldiers. He leaned back and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "We'll need men, obviously. No women, though. Conditions will be crowded, and tempers will be short. It's several weeks to Venus, and having a mixed group is just asking for hormone-related shenanigans. After all, these are civilian recruits we're talking about here, not professional soldiers. Now, to answer Dale's question, I'm not going to start conscripting my employees. I belong to the Free Space Party, not the 'Slave Army' Party. So that means volunteers. Earth is off-limits, Hesperus is already preparing for its own defense, and Crater is in Nat's pocket. That limits our recruiting to Mars. Fortunately, we have the people here to fill our needs. We should be able to successfully recruit an army to defend Venus against Nat's bunch."

And what about Mercury? Dale asked. I'm not giving up on them. And I owe them. I'd like to go back, and I want some guys with guns with me. Can we defend Venus and capture Mercury at the same time?

That depends. Zack gave him his famous half-smile. How good are you at recruiting?

Me? Dale blinked. I don't know the first thing about it. I figured you'd be doing it. You're the CEO, after all. You're in charge of this whole operation.

"But you're the Hero of Hesperus. Zack cocked an eyebrow. That's what will rally the people. I saw the way the Hesperans looked at you in those weeks after the revolution. I heard the things they said to you and the things they said about you when you weren't in earshot. They loved you, Dale. They admired you. You're a natural leader. You're just not comfortable with leading yet. But if you can step outside your comfort zone, and send out a call to arms, then I think Mars will respond. I think you'll get your volunteers."

I tried something like that in Crater, remember? Dale grimaced. I thought everyone there would jump at the chance to follow me. But they didn't. Their revolution failed, and a lot of them died. And it was all for nothing. I was arrogant. You said so yourself, and you were right. I can't make that mistake again.

Zack shook his head. Like I said before, Mars isn't Mercury. The two planets are about as different as they can be. The people here are not psychologically defeated like the Hermians were. There's a real can-do spirit here, especially among the Nerians, but in the national cities, too, to some degree. You're not convinced yet because you've never seen Mars for yourself.

I don't know...

Trust me, Dale. Zack gave him an earnest look. Have faith in my judgment. Give recruiting a try. You might be surprised.

Eliza looked at Dale. You can do it. I trust your uncle implicitly. If he says a thing is so, then it is so.

Dale looked at her, and then back at Zack. After a moment, he sighed. All right. I'll give it a shot. But I have no idea what I'm doing. I'll need help writing speeches and stuff.

Zack smiled. I think I can help with that.

Dale gave him a grateful look.

Now that the recruitment issue is settled, Eliza said, there's the matter of armament. The men will need guns. I suggest seeking out a deal with Bellona Firearms.

Sounds good, Zack said. "We'll have big orders to fill, and they've got the capacity. They might be the only dealer with the capacity. They're as Nerian as Nerian gets, though, so they might need some persuading. Don't delegate this one. I'd like you to personally meet with their CEO."

Ya. Will do.

I'd also like Dale to go with you.

Dale's eyebrows shot up.

Eliza gave Zack an uncertain look, but shrugged. You're the boss.

And now, Zack said, I'd like to speak to Dale alone.

Of course. She rose from her seat. I'll start making the arrangements. I'll contact you when I've made an appointment with Bellona.

Thank you.

She left the office.

Dale watched the door close. When it clicked shut, he turned to Zack. Why do I need to go talk to the gun guy? Eliza seems capable. She can probably handle it by herself.

She's very capable. And of course she can handle it. That's why I want you to tag along. You can learn a thing or two from her. He leaned forward. "I won't always be around to help you. And neither will Eliza. You should try to learn as much as you can from us