Range Station Nine, Cydonia Mensae

‘I’ve never seen someone squander a first impression so quickly,’ said Robert. ‘My better judgement loses again. Goodbye, whoever you are.’ Robert turned to leave, but the man moved swiftly in front of the door, blocking Robert’s path.

‘You brought Redbourn with you,’ he said advancing on Robert, ‘and that one in particular.’

‘Forget about him,’ Robert said. The man was larger than Robert and possibly armed, but Robert clenched his back teeth and stood his ground. ‘You want to speak to me,’ he said. ‘Speak. Otherwise, you’re wasting time I can scarcely afford.’ The airlock door slid open. The man backed away and Robert silently released his breath as Markus entered the greenhouse. ‘Who are you?’ Robert asked with more confidence.

Markus raised his visor and glowered at the stranger.

Robert grinned. ‘Everything is fine – we were just getting to introductions.’

Markus studied the stranger top to bottom. ‘I must ask if you are armed.’

‘I’m not,’ the stranger replied.

‘Then I may search you,’ said Markus approaching the man.

The stranger glared back at Markus.

‘You could try to persuade him,’ said Robert with a sly grin, ‘but my bodyguard here is always trying to justify his brutish way by being a stubborn stickler of a man.’

The stranger shrugged and raised his arms. Robert’s grin widened as Markus removed his gloves and ran practised hands over the man’s Polyskin, taking certain care around the belt, cuffs, and boots.

‘Go and find something to drink,’ said Robert when Markus had completed his search.

Markus stood back and nodded to Robert as tapped his PX device. ‘Remember,’ he said.

‘My bodyguard,’ said Robert in explanation, ‘insufferable. But forget about him. Let’s talk, if you still want to talk.’

The stranger sat on a bench in the greenhouse and gestured for Robert to sit on one opposite. He waited for Markus to disappear into the darker space of the turf dome. ‘Why are we here?’

‘You invited me here,’ Robert said.

‘I mean “why are we here on this planet?” Why do almost one hundred-thousand people live on Mars?’

Robert sighed and sat on the empty bench. ‘Okay fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll humour you as I’ve come so far. Molecule B.’

‘Exactly, Molecule B is the self-replicating, potassium-based miracle that changed everything – batteries, super-conductors, micro-processors – everything. The Mars Treaty Organisation – originally set up to explore Mars – couldn’t cope with the demand so it split into Cydonia, iMicor and half a dozen other concerns – all locating and extracting Molecule B.’

‘I don’t need a potted history of the planet,’ Robert said.

‘Now,’ the man continued, ‘the two biggest companies are going to war over it.’

‘I’m aware of that too.’

‘Of course, you are,’ the man said, ‘you’re an integral part of it. What do you think is going to happen when we learn how to synthesise Molecule B on Earth – or to stop it mutating? Do you think there will be a Cydonia Corporation – or any kind of industry on Mars once the key product is useless?’

‘History lessons and hypothetical questions,’ said Robert. ‘This must be how they waste time in universities. But I can’t afford to waste time – I’m integral, remember?’

‘Molecule B helped improve the lives of millions of people, and now we’re about to go to war over it on a planet that was meant to have united them. It is both the best and worst thing to happen to humanity this century.’

‘Who are you?’ Robert asked him again.

‘My name is Micah Chan,’ he said. ‘I represent Mars.’

‘And what’s your closing statement, Micah Chan?’ said Robert. ‘What does your planet-sized client want from me?’

Chan leaned in. ‘We want Grace Mitchell out. Her policies have brought this planet to the brink of war, and we want her out. The company will elect a new board soon – now is the time.’

‘I see,’ Robert said. ‘And by “we”, you mean Mars? Mars wants her out?’

‘Mars is more than someone’s goldmine,’ Chan said. ‘The corporations don’t own it the people of Mars and Earth own it.’

‘The people of Mars,’ Robert repeated. ‘I think I’ve heard enough. He stood, but Chan rose to block him again. ‘Time to go, bodyguard,’ Robert called.

‘Resign,’ said Chan. ‘A public resignation from you – and other key board members – will weaken her before the election. She’ll lose the vote and then she’ll be forced to stand aside. We can lock her out of Cydonia City and iMicor will be forced to recall their forces before a shot is fired.’

‘You want me to resign.’ Robert said, ‘and other key members. Who else have you been talking to?’

‘We’re talking to everyone,’ Chan said, ‘Mitchell has been in charge for too long. If enough of us act, we can end it.’

‘And who would you prefer to be in charge?’

‘Oh no,’ Chan shook his head. ‘I’m not giving that away yet.’ He turned towards the airlock where Markus waited, arms folded. ‘Hand in your resignation. Do it quickly and do it publicly. Things will be infinitely better for you if you do. Don’t forget what I said, we’re talking to everyone.’ Chan rounded the Redbourn officer, keeping his eyes on the side arm and slipped through the open door. ‘By the way,’ he called back. ‘Ask Mitchell what happened to the satellites.’ Then he left the station.

Robert strode to the dome wall to watch the rover pull away.

‘Well that was an intriguing time-waste.’ Robert grinned but straightened when he saw Markus’ expression. ‘What is it?’

‘I’ve just heard from HQ – they’ve taken Naktong,’ said Markus.

                                     Naktong Vallis, Arabia Quadrangle

iMicor’s soldiers seemed either content to let Sarah escape, or happy to let her die. Sarah had walked for almost half an hour, stopping occasionally to glance back at the iMicor blimps that hung above the crater. She trudged on in the direction of a hill on the north horizon. The hill promised no protection but was the only notable feature on the monotonous landscape. Hunger and thirst nagged. I’m lucky, she thought. That’s what everyone tells me. If I get out of this, it will prove them right. And if things don’t work out for me, someone will pull some expensive strings to get me out of this mess. And I’ll be constantly reminded of it. I’m lucky, she thought. James and David trailed behind her, close enough to share a local channel.

‘They’re letting us walk?’ James asked.

‘They’re waiting for us to run back,’ said David. ‘How much battery do you have?’

‘A few hours,’ said James. ‘We all do.’

‘And when it’s nearly gone,’ said David. ‘All they’ll have to do is come and collect us.’ He called ahead, ‘Sarah!’

‘What?’ she snapped.

‘It’s over.’

‘Turn back then,’ she said.

‘We should all turn back,’ David replied.

‘Do what you want,’ Sarah said. ‘” We” don’t have to do anything.’

‘So, what’s your plan?’ David asked.

‘I’m going to that hill, and I’m going to sit on it. That’s my plan.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ David said. ‘You might want to die, but we don’t.’

‘I told you, turn back.’

‘We can’t leave you here,' said James, 'you know this.’

‘You going to drag me back? Try it.’

‘Do you ever think of other people? No wonder they call you…’ David broke off.

Sarah stopped. ‘No wonder they call me what?’ David stopped too and retreated a few paces. ‘What do they call me?' Sarah continued. 'Not talking? Good, keep your god damn mouth shut then.’

‘I’ve had it with this,’ David said. ‘Stay here. Go to your hill. We’ll come back for you when you’re choking on your own dioxide.’

‘Shut up, both of you,’ said James. He pointed south. The second blimp still idled but the three dust trails rose from the deck below it.

David zoomed in to the horizon. ‘What is that?’

‘Rovers,’ said James.

Sarah was staring into the distance when David turned and pushed past her.

‘Come on, then,’ he said. ‘I’d like to spend the last moments before my incarceration enjoying a beautiful view with good friends. In the absence of friends, you two will have to do.’ They reached the foot of the hill before the rovers gained on them. The pyramid-shaped hill was formed of layers of rock making a rough staircase that led to a peak about ten metres above ground level. Sarah started up the stairs in awkward, overstretched strides. She had reached a point about halfway to the top when something hit her lower back. She knew as she fell that her fortune had expired, and someone was shooting at her.

Sarah had observed stinger-rounds demonstrated in Cydonia City, but underestimated their pain. Though dulled by the Polyskin, the stinger lived up to its name. She fell forward cursing aloud. James had fallen too and was tumbling down the rocky ridge. David was trying to move, clutching the back of his calf. Something glinted in her vision’s corner. She turned her gaze to the top of the hill where the silver envelope of a low-flying drone caught the sun. She recognised the craft.

‘Cydonia Search and Rescue,’ she breathed. She scrambled up the hill towards it, fighting through the pain as the drone retreated behind the hill. A stinger round thumped the rock beside her. She swore as another struck her boot just as she reached the apex. Her ankle was a knot of agony and she cried out as she fell again. The rescue drone had disappeared, but someone stood over her now, boots on either side of her head. She recognised the camouflaged, armoured gloves and accepted the offered hand that hauled her to her feet. The Redbourn Security guardsman held an assault rifle in his other hand, another stood next to him firing down the hillside. The guardsmen led her down the opposite side of the hill and, when the pain in her ankle made her stumble, hauled her arm across his shoulders to support her weight. Sarah’s luck had held after all. Her people had found her.