Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Copyright
*Laughter* No worries, base. They won’t see this coming.
NINE
JASPER LED US IN A shuffling, shambling procession through the winding streets of Mars City. As night fell, people emerged: streaming from public transit, mingling in the alleys, opening doors and windows. The temperature, which had hovered in the midseventies, dropped about ten degrees in a matter of minutes. I knew the domes managed some temperature control; otherwise, Mars would be freezing. But obviously they left nature a certain amount of authority.
We stuck to the shadows, avoiding contact with anyone. The people of Mars were unpredictable. You had your ambitious and your loyalists, but mining was still a tough life, and very few chose it voluntarily. You had families with mouths to feed, people with no other options who couldn’t get a job with a better corporation on Earth. Sometimes that meant they had no real loyalty to Mars Mining, which played somewhat fast and loose with its workers’ safety and paid them a bare minimum: enough to keep them alive, but never enough to get off planet and seek employment somewhere better.
On the other hand, you had people who took the opposite approach, becoming fiercely loyal to the only corporation willing to hire them. Mars was tough, but things could be worse. You could travel months in stasis to Jupiter’s moons, where the life expectancy was ten years due to hard working conditions and frequent breakages in water filtration. Or, worst of all, you could be a government citizen, scrambling for odd jobs and relying on charity for your next meal. We couldn’t predict who we’d run into. Those who resented Mars Mining might help us. Those who worshiped them, though, well . . . I’d already seen what that looked like with my parents.
Lost in my train of thought, I followed Jasper around a corner. Suddenly, everything changed. Where once had been lean-tos and corrugated metal were now flashing lights and tall buildings of chrome and glass. I froze, not sure if we’d wandered into a different world. Well-dressed tourists lined the streets, talking, laughing, and drinking. This was the Mars I knew from vids: a world of high-class debauchery where Earth’s rich and bored traveled to unwind away from corporate laws. We’d left Mars Mining Incorporated behind and ventured into the territory of Tourism Rouge. That didn’t help us much, of course. Mars Mining policed the entire planet, since technically Tourism Rouge only operated with their permission. But hopefully they’d be reluctant to charge after us, guns blazing, in a crowded tourist district and incur the wrath of the only other corporation on the planet.
The others stopped too, gaping in openmouthed disbelief. A few steps ahead, Jasper realized we weren’t following. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
Mia shook her head. “We don’t exactly blend.”
She had a point. Everyone here carried that corporate air. They weren’t all dressed in finery, but even those in jeans had a well-tailored look, manicured nails, neatly styled hair. We all wore prison jumpsuits in various stages of disrepair—or in my case, an Omnistellar guard uniform. We hadn’t showered in almost a month. We were filthy and incredibly conspicuous.