Lunara: The Sagittarius Quadrilogy

By Wyatt Davenport

In books six, seven, eight and nine of the series, two hundred years after the MSA were defeated, discrimination is still rampant on Mars.

Earthling Robin Acadia has never been fully accepted into Martian society. She's been living with the prejudices since her Martian father's death as a child, but she never imagined Martian One would push Mars towards complete segregation from their Earth brethren.

With Mars and Earth's tensions growing, she finds help from famous billionaire Kirkon Tibor, who has made tremendous scientific discoveries over the last twenty years, but none greater than his next discovery. To right the wrongs against them, their mission pushes them to find the secrets left behind by Chloe Jones and her mysterious legacy.

Naomi Ravenswood has been living the good life on Mars as an Earth spy. But her fortunes turn quickly when she makes a tragic mistake on her latest mission, jeopardizing her cover and threatening her investigation into a mysterious group attacking Martian and Earth colonies

Kirkon Tibor has taken the Protector and its crew into the far reaches of the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy. His bane will soon be revealed and his worst nightmare will come true. Desperately he attempts to keep his secret long enough to fix his mistakes.

Meanwhile, Robin Acadia discovers that her life isn't quite as expected. When her estranged best friend faces grave danger, she must act to save her, all the while fighting herself and the others around her determined to use her to meet their goals.

Finish the LUNARA adventure with the final four books in the series.

Includes four ebooks:
Robin Acadia and the Martians
Naomi Ravenswood and the Earth War
Kirkon Tibor and the Sephians
Seth Smith

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wyatt Davenport
• Release date: Mar 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311422309

Wyatt Davenport

Wyatt Davenport was born in 1977 in Kingston, Ontario, and grew up in London, Ontario, and Atlanta, Georgia. He currently lives in Seattle with his wife Colleen and their two Siberian Huskies. An avid fan of science fiction and fantasy, Wyatt is inspired by authors like Timothy Zahn, Michael Crichton, Robert Aspirin, and J. R. R. Tolkien.

Book preview

Prologue

Parker McCloud held the CommUn to his mouth. For the moment, he’s in paradise.

That was the last thing Seth heard before Chloe took over his mind.

The horror and grief overwhelming Seth only moments before were erased in an instant, replaced by an all-consuming rapture. Every thought he’d ever had of a happy life with Chloe seemed to be true in this moment, even if he knew it wasn’t real. Chloe’s vision guided him through a life he’d always wanted. Alexandria was playing with her toys in front of a fireplace, he was in a cabin stocked with wood furniture, and when he looked out the window, a lake stretched for miles. Trees lined the perimeter.

He was on Earth, where they had always wanted to be.

Chloe, he said, what happened?

She didn’t answer him. He looked around for her. Though he couldn’t see her, her presence was tangible. He moved to the kitchen door, but stopped short of it.

Father, Alexandria said, can we go on the lake today?

Yes, he found himself saying, after our chores. He didn’t know what the chores were, but he felt an urge to do them. What do I have to do? No matter; he’d spend the day with Alexandria and Chloe.

I’ll go make my bed, and then we’ll go. A young Alexandria ran into her bedroom.

The scene flashed again.

This time Alexandria was older, in her teens. She stood before him with a flower in her hair.

Daddy, she said with a huge grin, I passed my piloting test. I can fly to school myself now. Beaming, she held up the datacard with her license on it.

Seth took it. You were able to do the high-winds landing?

Of course, she replied. I always pass that. Where’s Mom? I want to show her.

She’s…she’s…I don’t know, Seth said, but he felt Chloe was near. She’s up in the bedroom, maybe.

The scene flashed again.

This time Alexandria was a young woman at the top of the stairs. Her hair was strung with ribbons, and her dress was silky white. She was getting married.

Stop it, Seth said. I know what you’re doing, Chloe.

She isn’t doing anything you don’t want, Daddy, Alexandria said. She’s showing you what you have to look forward to if you care for me.

Stop shifting, Seth said. What does she want? What’s Alexandria’s destiny?

Alexandria slowly descended the stairs. You figured it out, didn’t you?

I think so, he replied. I know that taking care of Alexandria is important to your…her wishes. It’s about Earth, isn’t it?

Yes, Alexandria said. I’m going to help you on Earth, and then you’ll be ready to find out what happened to Mother and save humanity.

Chloe said the future isn’t set, he said. How can I trust her prophetic wishes?

You’re too smart for your own good, Father, Alexandria replied. "Yes, you’ll attempt to save humanity, and you might fail. There’s a familiar person and a stranger in the SDG who’ll help you. They’ll bring your abilities to full potential and provide you with the means to save our solar system."

The Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy, or SDG, was a small spiral of stars that formed a dwarf galaxy on the relative bottom of the Milky Way.

When will I know they’re here? Seth asked.

I’ll provide you with longevity so you can be patient. Their life will be obvious to you, and you’ll know who they are. Both of them will touch your mind like I will…like Mother did.

Seth shook his head, confused and excited. Do you have to be so vague?

Mother guides with vagueness, so you’ll focus on raising me and not obsess about fulfilling the mission. I’m the most important concern for you. Be patient. They’ll come to you.

Chloe, can’t you come back to guide me?

Chloe’s dead, Alexandria said. I’m your family now.

The rapture of Chloe’s final gift took hold again. He didn’t know how long it would last, but he hoped for an eternity.

More than two hundred years later…

Chapter 1

All eyes are on you today, Kirkon, Amanda Tibor said from her comm station.

Kirkon Tibor forced a smile. And failure would allow everyone to see my backside.

As his sister continued to read off the preflight statistics, a dignified trio of observers stood impatiently waiting for his show to start. All were fixated on the probe hovering two thousand kilometers ahead of them. It filled much of the zoomed viewscreen. Stars glowed around it, and the bluish-white halo of Uranus hovered coin-sized to the port side. Within the next minute or so, the observers would know if he was a failure or not.

One of the observers, Admiral Derek Poole, a thickset man with a short crew cut, had the biggest foot on the project—and on Kirkon’s neck. He was a straight military man, and on more than one occasion had threatened the existence of the Quantum Hyperspace Project. His partners were Vice Admiral of the Outer Planets Laura Reed, who would do anything to impress Admiral Poole, and Martian representative Yolanda Swankland, who seemed to be the practical sort—probably because she wasn’t military.

Kirkon Tibor tried—with little success—to ignore them, as this was the single defining moment of his career and his corporation’s existence. His family’s company, Space Propulsion Inc., had developed, thanks to his genius, the first working hyperspace drive in history. It was a simple matter of using electromagnetic rings to open the fifth through eleventh dimension in the fabric of space, whereby any ship, size independent, could slip through and appear anywhere in the universe in a matter of moments.

And a moment to him was about a day in Earth time. He thought in terms of speed of light, and going seventy thousand light years in a matter of a day was a moment. To Admiral Poole, it was an acceptable amount of time.

Kirkon thought they should be more grateful. Thanks to him, it took a yacht only one hour to get from Earth to Mars and six hours from Mars to Jupiter. Not that the admiral would ever acknowledge his accomplishments. For whatever reason, the admiral had it in for him, and Kirkon decided it was best to never allow the admiral the opportunity to criticize him.

Dark energy field accelerating, Amanda said. Gravitophotons pairing. Ring is almost at full acceleration.

Excellent, he muttered. He stared out at the probe as it began to shine with a sort of soft white glow that wasn’t unpleasant to the eyes and didn’t make him want to look away. It was expected and soothing. How long until we reach the free float of subspace?

By your calculations, forty seconds, she replied.

My calculations and my reputation. Forty seconds until vindication.

The ship began to shake, and he knew it was the antigravity playing tricks on the compensators, as they were close enough to the probe and to Uranus to cause them to be active.

An alert claxon roared, startling him, but one of the bridge hands quickly suppressed it. Sweat pooled under his shirt, making the whole affair more uncomfortable. Unconsciously, he shifted his weight. The musky smell of the bridge was starting to get to him, and since the bridge didn’t normally accommodate so many visitors, the air had become stale. He was noticing every little annoyance now. He really was nervous.

Perhaps seeing him wane, Amanda looked back at him with a confident smile. Their eyes locked, and he knew what she was thinking. You’re a genius. Those were her usual words when he impressed her, and without a doubt, after four years of research, she knew their efforts were about to come to fruition. Everything was progressing perfectly.

She gave him a quick thumbs-up.

Amanda Tibor was his sister, and they were the great-great-great-grandchildren of famous Lunaran Atalo Groves. Since their parents’ deaths twenty years ago, she’d been the chief programmer for his experiments in the field of propulsion. She was also the vice president of the company, and his lieutenant. She was there when the quickdrives were upped by fifty percent; she was there when quickdrives turned into shockdrives; and now she was sitting beside him for the unveiling of his quantumdrive system.

In a crude, patronizing sort of way, she was his good luck charm.

But she was also there when his wife and daughter had all but perished in a shuttle accident. She’d investigated the incident and concluded that faulty wiring from Copper Dynamics was to blame. Suffice it to say, he had canceled all contracts with them. Fifteen years ago and counting, Amanda had been his closest, and perhaps his only, confidante.

Are we far enough away? Admiral Poole shouted at him.

Kirkon ignored him. He wasn’t about to let Admiral Poole seed him with any doubt. He had placed markers every one hundred kilometers out to a million kilometers from the foci of the probe. He wasn’t worried, and if the admiral was uncomfortable, he should’ve shuttled out with the rest of the nonessential crew.

Instead of acknowledging Poole, Kirkon nodded to Amanda, and she nodded back. Then he turned to view the spectacle. This was their moment. Everything was set. He only had to watch his triumph or failure now.

A single pinpoint flashed like a pale emerald against the stars around it.

Then, in a moment’s flash, pops sounded, and the sudden darkness on the bridge elicited a chorus of screams and wails. Kirkon stood still in stunned disbelief, but realized an instant later that it was most likely the electromagnetic pulse that had knocked out power to the ship. He had expected it…but not this far out.

What else is wrong? he muttered.

Don’t give up yet, Amanda said.

With flickering effort, the emergency lights dimly lit the bridge. Admiral Poole stared acidly at him, and all Kirkon could think to do was to shrug his shoulders. The rest of the bridge scrambled to figure out how to restore power to the ship. The soft touch of Amanda’s hand pressed against his forearm. He turned to her.

I had the foresight to power down my portable before the jump, she said, opening the screen to the minicomputer. It wasn’t affected.

Excellent, he replied. What’s the report?

I’m getting readings from the markers that are thirty thousand kilometers out and beyond.

Good, he said. What about the probe?

"Atlantis I. Nothing yet. But I don’t have the software on this portable to track its movements to the SDG."

The SDG was seventy thousand light years from the sun and the source of the meteor cluster from Earth’s past. For that reason, it had been the focus of his attention when he decided he had enough information and gall to test his theory for the quantum drive or hyperdrive.

The meteor cluster was a phenomenon that had caused humanity’s exodus from Earth to Mars. For whatever unknown reason, every meteor in the cluster was destined for Earth, which made it unique, strange, and predictable. The predictability had been the driving force of Lunara. The death of the cluster, which was the single source of metalor in the solar system, had driven the cost of his hyperdrive into the billions. Ships had been remolded with nonmetalor parts, and colonies were razed to recycle the precious element. Metalor had special traits that were still a mystery, and those mysteries and traits made it the most prized resource known to man and the driving force behind his hyperdrive system.

The mystery of metalor stirred his curiosity to no end. The SDG was the only place he was interested in going. He wanted to discover its answers and those of Chloe Jones. He had been obsessed with Chloe Jones since he was a child, and he became even more so when his wife and daughter, now in a comatose state, almost died on one of his new ships. In the few letters to Sarah Cortez that were recovered from the archives of the Great War, Chloe Jones had expressed an intense kinship with a few star systems in the SDG and the meteor cluster.

His goal was to get there to heal his wife and daughter.

Sir, the computer is rebooting, he heard a deck hand say to Admiral Poole. We’ll have energy core recovery in ten minutes.

Ten minutes until he learned his fate.

In the end, it took Kirkon Tibor one full day to find the probe, as he wasn’t able to track it the way he had thought he could through the fifth to eleventh dimensions. It was exactly where he had predicted it to be—ten million kilometers from the star Alpha One in a star system on the closest edge of the SDG. His experiment was a success, and even Admiral Poole had garnered enough gumption to give him a handshake—albeit a quick one.

For Kirkon, it was a step closer to a manned mission to the galaxy—an adventure he had sought since his completion of college at the age of ten, through the assignment within the R&D Center on Mars at twelve, through the joining of his father at Space Propulsion Inc. Every class, every assignment, and joining the company had been about getting to the SDG and Chloe Jones’s secret.

Data streamed into his console. So far, he had plotted four planets—all simple gas giants like Saturn—and several more planets were on the other side of its sun. The metallicity of the star indicated that the planets on the other side could be rich with resources, but with the probe being retrofitted with the large hyperdrive, the sensor equipment was no better than on a light fighter.

Kirkon, Amanda said from behind him. We should send the signal for the probe to return. I want to be sure of the energy levels.

He started. Kirkon didn’t want the probe to come back. He wanted more data. He wanted to find metalor or a civilization that had sent them the cluster…but she was right. There wasn’t going to be a discovery in the first test. It would come in time.

Kirkon swallowed hard. I agree, he said. Call it back and have it come to the same location.

I’ve already made the calculations. She smirked.

Through the stress, he allowed himself to smile back. He stood and made his way across the bridge to where Admiral Poole was speaking with one of his subordinates. It appeared to be an idle conversation.

Admiral Poole, he interrupted, we’ve started the sequence to retrieve the probe. It’ll be here tomorrow at this time.

Understood.

Mr. Tibor, Vice Admiral Reed said, there was a theory about tracing within subspace that return trips would take only a fraction of the time.

Vice Admiral, he said. Jinx, he hated formalities and designations. He knew what she was talking about, and it had to do with the dimensional shift that occurred during subspace and the ability of the navigational systems to replay the jump in reverse to cut down on the travel time. It was akin to leaving bread crumbs in a forest to track your return home. But on a first test, there were too many bugs in the system to eat up the crumbs. Path tracing is only a theory thus far.

So was your hyperdrive only a day ago, Representative Swankland interjected. I read the classified reports, and this was built into the probe, was it not?

Prudent and thorough, the traits of a Martian. Many thought having these traits was born out of the diligence placed on surviving in the harsh atmosphere of the red planet. He disagreed and thought it came from the raw nature of Martian history: prudent to cover all political matters and thorough enough not to forget how the people would react to every detail. All matters were covered.

It was, he admitted. But it wasn’t scheduled to be used on this test, which was also in the report. On purpose, Vice Admiral Reed had brought up the Path Tracing to raise doubt in the minds of the other observers, namely Representative Swankland. He had no doubt of her role as skeptic in addition to faithful servant to Admiral Poole. They wanted him to fail so they could commandeer the project for their profit.

So it isn’t a theory, Reed said, pretty much on cue with his thought.

The jab annoyed him. It was still a theory, and Amanda and he had added it as an afterthought—almost to impress the admiral that significant progress was being made. The programming was barely tested.

As per the mission objectives, we want a complete test of the navigation systems on this run, he said, confident this would subdue her. We’ll test the path tracing another time.

Do you have doubts it will work?

None.

He caught Representative Swankland’s eye. She was perhaps the person he had to impress the most. She would report back to the Martian Assembly. There would be a lot of weight behind her words to the safety commission, too. The electromagnetic pulse could be an area of concern as it reached farther than he had thought it would and could hamper the practicality of the drive system. After all, shipping costs could rise with such timely efforts to travel to one’s jump point.

So why not test it on this run? You’ve already proved the navigation systems work.

It isn’t that, he said. It’s about the communication across stellar distances.

I would like a demonstration of the jump back, Admiral Poole said. Test Path Tracing so we can have complete data for the speaker.

The speaker agreed to my mission parameters—

Kirkon! Amanda shouted from across the bridge.

He turned immediately and saw her waving her hand for him to come. Gladly, he obliged. Anything to get away from having to answer the path tracing question. He hurried over to the other side of the bridge.

Kirkon, Amanda whispered, urgency showing in her eyes. The probe is gone. I can’t find it.

You mean you already sent it into subspace? We can’t communicate in subspace.

That’s just the thing. I didn’t do anything yet. I was still inputting the commands.

Keep looking.

Is there a problem, Tibor? Admiral Poole called.

I don’t think so, he replied, with a heavy throat. We’re inputting the command sequence, and Miss Tibor needed the security code.

He had lied to the admiral. Even though his experiment was a success, it could turn into a huge failure if they couldn’t return safely from the other side of a jump. He had to hope the probe would return.

He turned back to Amanda.

Why did you say that? she whispered.

Never mind. Find the damn thing.

I can’t. It either jumped itself or it exploded.

Exploded. It can’t jump itself. You know that. You programmed it to signal a jump to Alliance Command. He glanced over at the command messages. They’ve received nothing.

I know, I know, she said, as her hands played the console like a piano. It was of little use, though. The probe was lost, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it. Not at these distances.

What was the last reading from the probe?

I checked, and it doesn’t make sense, she replied. A gravity spike came—

He cut her off. He knew what it was from the random numbers scrolling across the screen. Move this information to my private drive, and then erase until a point where nothing appears to be wrong, he said. He couldn’t have this anomaly on the record. It would delay the entire project by five years at the minimum.

We might get caught, she said.

Since when do you worry? Do it, Amanda. He heard footsteps come up behind him and turned to find Admiral Poole standing there. He positioned himself between the admiral and Amanda’s screen.

Something the matter? the admiral asked.

Actually, we lost the probe, Kirkon answered. He didn’t want to admit it, but there wasn’t much choice. He couldn’t make the probe reappear on their end again, so he would have to spin a story that would make it appear that it was neither his fault nor the theory’s fault, and that it wasn’t mission critical for a future mission.

Lost it! the admiral exclaimed. He went rigid.

This caught Representative Swankland’s ear from across the bridge. Her face soured.

Kirkon winced. It isn’t a problem with the probe. His mind was crawling around his skull, searching for something that couldn’t possibly be his fault. Bingo! Do you remember how Alliance Command wouldn’t give me the midgraded fission reactor?

I vaguely recall, the admiral muttered.

Kirkon knew that the admiral remembered it with perfect clarity. It had been a sticking point that he had lost and the admiral had won. Or so the admiral had thought. He would have to spin this story to show that the admiral had been at fault. It was a two-fold victory, if he could pull it off.

Well, as I argued, the mission took three hundred more percent than we had figured. I’ll go over the data to figure out why. Actually, Kirkon planned to distort the data to make it appear so.

And what does that mean? The admiral crossed his arms.

It means, Kirkon said, with a purposeful bite, that the probe ran out of power on the startup sequence, and it’s drifting in the SDG. He hoped his anger didn’t sound contrived.

Let me see, the admiral said. He pushed past him toward Amanda.

Kirkon bit his lower lip. He had forgotten the admiral’s expertise—at least, according to the military—was fission reactors. It was the reason he was assigned to the project in the first place.

As you can see, Amanda said, the power levels bottomed when I started the command sequence.

Where?

She waved her finger across the screen. There. There. And there.

Admiral Poole stared at the screen for a long moment, then turned toward Kirkon and looked him square in the eyes. My report to Alliance Command will be ready by the time we return to Mars.

Admiral Poole had lost. Kirkon smiled from within.

So we’re leaving? Kirkon said. Not that he wanted to stay and have the admiral breathing over his shoulder, going over the data. He said it to play the part of an eager scientist, when in actuality, he had other priorities—namely, getting the data, manipulating it, and getting Swankland to approve the manned mission.

The admiral replied with a grunt and walked away.

When the admiral was out of earshot, Amanda whispered into Kirkon’s ear, Why did you make me do that? It’s not like you to lie.

No, it’s more like you. As usual, you did fine, he said. We can’t have Mars seeing a problem with the project. Our share price would be cut in half, and they’d take the tech away from us. If we hold the data to a point, the next stage will be imminent.

I don’t like it. Mars has its ways of finding out.

You’ll thank me when we’re preparing to depart for SDG within the year, and our share price doubles.

Her eyes widened. Another galaxy within the year?

I wouldn’t have it any other way, he replied.

Chapter 2

Robin Acadia opened her eyes, slowly and with great pain.

The doorbell rang in the darkness—an annoying and loud ring. She stumbled to find the switch to the overhead lights and turned them on. The light shone brighter than she expected, and she closed her eyes immediately, causing her next step to become a pitfall. Her ankle twisted as she stepped on a bottle and sent it against the wall. Her curses drowned out its ping.

Her apartment in the Martian colony of Zephyria was its usual mess, except this time it was littered with wine and beer bottles and not its accustomed clothing and food wrappers.

What happened last night?

Susan Flowers, she muttered. Another ill-advised weekday party that ended with a workday hangover. Susan had just returned from a deep space haul. As usual, Robin and Susan celebrated by giving long parties and by chasing many men. Ugh. That tall blond guy. He left in a hurry. It was a ritual she was tiring of, but Susan seemed to enjoy it, and she couldn’t blame her. Susan had been boxed into a freighter for the last three months with the same people.

Robin’s best friend had always been an abrasive influence on her. Robin had little in the way of friends, and Susan provided what her mother called variety and spice. Plus, Susan saw past Robin’s one fatal flaw. Robin had come from separated parents: her father from Mars and her mother from Earth. This wouldn’t have been so bad had her father not died when she was four, and her mother insisted they stay on Mars. For someone not well-off to begin with, two earthlings on Mars meant a problem.

The Treaty of Lunara, signed fifty years ago, was explicit in its wording about earthlings who lived among Martians. All citizens of Mars, which native earthlings weren’t, were guaranteed employment, fresh food, and shelter. For native earthlings, there would be no government support. Recent tensions between Earth and Mars had left the planets on the brink of hostilities. She didn’t know where she would land if the two sides ended up in combat, but with so much at stake, she doubted that it would ever happen.

The ring sounded again. Is that Susan? No, not this early.

Robin wore a loose nightshirt. With a kick, she pulled on her pants to hide her legs and staggered as the dizziness of last night’s drunkenness still remained. She opened the door with closed eyes. Hello?

Miss Acadia? the boy said.

She opened her eyes to the hazy image of a teenager—all of fifteen at most.

I’m from Cargo Corp Courier. This document is for you.

What is this? She searched her mind for answers.

Slowly, her haze lifted enough for her to reach for the package. Her electronic thumbprint rippled across the document’s cover into the chiming CommUn of the courier. Her identity was confirmed.

The courier left without so much as a Good day or a Happy Victory Day. She looked over at her kitchen. The time read 6:91 Mars Solar Time (MST), and the date was indeed Victory Day. Not that anyone celebrated the holiday anymore. Much of the MSA doctrine and technology had been implemented into Martian society over the last two hundred years. Everything that had been fought over during the Great War had been almost for naught. A society that had preached for unity had become capitalistic and totalitarian, wrapped into one unanimous government known as the Central Alliance. The direction of her government worried her. It was moving away from her principles and rejecting her heritage.

She groaned as she saw the sun peek over the Martian horizon. Across the landscape, the reds were painted a shade darker. Shadows cast in the craters hid the greens of algae pits. At this time every day, there was an hour window where Mars was in its original reddish form, and she cherished this moment.

As she enjoyed the view, her mind drifted. The vision of the girl from her dreams floated before her. The girl was thirteen or fourteen years old, and she’d haunted Robin’s dreams almost every night for the last few years. Robin thought it was her as a child, but with each passing dream, she was more and more convinced it was someone from her schooldays she couldn’t remember. She figured she’d never understand why she couldn’t escape this girl, but her psyche was obsessed.

Her alarm buzzed. She had less than thirty minutes to get to work, and her mind would take three times that long to clear. She headed to the bathroom. On her way, unconcerned by it, she threw the document on the table. It was probably another letter from her mother.

She stripped off her clothes and caught her image in the mirror. Though her green eyes were puffy from the previous night, her jet-black hair remained relatively straight. With a turn, she checked out how Susan’s karate lessons had toned her body. She had never cared much for her pear-shaped waist because it made her entirely non-Martian. But she had been gifted with ample breasts, which many of the taller, sleeker Martian women envied. A part of her thought that if she could share them with the women of Mars, she might be a bit more accepted into society. Instead, jealousy mixed with prejudice to keep her on the outside.

She knew that part of being a woman was criticizing oneself and constantly trying to improve one’s physical faults, but this morning, seeing her face so droopy was entirely too sobering. Partying wasn’t a solution to retaining beauty, especially up against Martian women.

Martians and earthlings were slightly different in overall averages. Martians tended to be taller, skinnier, and more intelligent. Earthlings were shorter and pudgier, with a larger portion of them being workers instead of academics. It was a product of almost four hundred years of a split society.

Robin showered and cleaned her teeth for the long, head-pounding day ahead.

She had a busy day planned. Surreptitiously, she had finished a review of the SDG. The Martian Astrological Society hadn’t sanctioned it, but she didn’t really care. It was what she wanted to do. She had become an astronomer because of the meteor cluster that had been directed at Earth, and she was a believer in Chloe Jones and her abilities.

The ringing of her CommUn broke the silence of the room.

Who is it? she said. A familiar face appeared on the screen. Mom, I got your package.

I didn’t send a package, her mother said.

Robin’s eyes widened. You didn’t?

I was calling to see if you were awake.

Why? Robin asked.

You need to show up to work, her mother replied. It isn’t good to be unprofessional, and at such a young age, it’ll follow you.

I’m twenty-seven, and I can handle Professor Roberts. I have for six years.

Still, you don’t want another reprimand.

I like the pretty reds in my personnel report. I’m going for a Martian landscape across the top of the page.

At this rate, you’ll have it. You know those personnel files are public domain.

I know, and I told you to stop reading them. I might be a government employee, but I don’t need to take guff from you about it. My superiors give me enough of that.

I see, her mother said.

You should get a part-time job, Mother. Keep you busy during the day.

I have enough to do.

That was a lie. Robin knew her mother’s health was getting progressively worse, and it was a combination of inactivity and old age. Just be careful with yourself. I’m headed to work now, so be comforted.

I will when you arrive…on time, she said. And watch out for those Martian One fanatics. They’re roaming Mars and disturbing things at various events.

Robin rolled her eyes. Martian One was a group created to unite Mars under the pretense that Martians should only have children with other Martians. Martians should only live on Mars. And Martians shouldn’t interact with earthlings, other than over communications units or at trading ports on distant space stations. Basically, Martian One didn’t want earthlings on Mars. Luckily, her mother had moved to the retirement community on Phobos, so Robin wasn’t worried about the group bothering her. Phobos had the reputation of being where Martians went to die, and everyone found it entirely depressing.

I’m Martian, Robin said. They won’t hurt me. Can I go now?

Watch your back. Maybe wear higher heels.

I can’t hide my height. I’m a little shorter than the Martian girls, and my boobs are bigger. So what? They’ll learn to live with me here.

They’re growing in strength.

Martian One will be crushed under the almighty credit. Fear not. Mars can’t afford to lose Earth’s business. I’m going now. Robin disconnected, and then turned toward the document. If my mother didn’t send it, who did?

She picked it up and read the label: University of Mars: Astrological Society. Why is work sending me anything? she muttered.

Even with the biases against earthlings on Mars, Robin’s smarts had landed her a job at the university under the Earth-Mars exchange program. Since Earth had been rediscovered, Martian academia never had been one for prejudice, as their curiosity and the need to conduct experiments on Earth predicated civil relationships between the academic institutions on the planets.

But it made little sense for them to courier a package when they could just hand it to her in thirty minutes. She opened it and began to read silently.

Dear Miss Acadia,

Based on your most recent occupational review, we have decided to terminate your employment, effective immediately. Enclosed is a contract for you to sign to continue your benefit program. Also enclosed is the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy review paper as published with the Astrological Society.

All the best,

Professor George Roberts

She flipped to the SDG review paper without a pause to review her benefit sheet, as she knew she didn’t qualify for it. She had worked on the review for the last two years and had been looking forward to presenting it to Professor Roberts. This would be her break into the world of private sector analysis.

Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy: A detailed charting of our closest galaxy.

Yes, yes. Glee surged through her as her title was printed in bold font. Her eyes scrolled down to the bottom of the cover page, which read, By George Roberts, Chair; Department of Astronomy; University of Mars.

What? She slammed the table, almost breaking her knuckles. She caught her image in the mirror. Her green eyes flared for a brief moment. He stole my report!

She was out the door, heading down the hall with half a shoe on each foot and one arm in her coat.

Robin reached Professor Roberts’s office, shrugged off his secretary, Miss Turner, and entered his office without a knock. Her anger had risen immensely on the train ride to Trivium Port.

Professor Roberts, she shouted. What’s the meaning of this? She shook the report in his face.

I’m glad you enjoyed my paper, he said, so nonchalantly that she was taken aback. She looked at him curiously, hoping he was playing a joke on her. It hadn’t dawned on her that he might not have published the paper yet.

So this is your way of proving a point to me, she replied. I thought you had stolen my work.

My work has won me a fellowship with the Astronomy Society. I’ll be leaving for Uranus by the end of the week. Your lack of effort has gained you unemployment.

"So you did steal my work," she said. She took a menacing step toward him, her eyes glaring.

Professor Roberts nodded faintly, went to the door, and closed it. "The SDG report is wonderful, and there is a sudden interest in it around Mars. I’ve taken the work and given it to myself. It is the property of the university."

"But it’s my work."

You’re inexperienced and troubled—not the sort of person who should be working for the corporations. I’ve read the report, and it’s straightforward enough that I shouldn’t take long to get up to speed. You should have been more prudent with your files.

Robin emerged from her disbelief with a stubborn stare. She looked at him as though he were a stranger. It’s like you don’t even care.

Young lady, you did Mars a favor, but I’ll take over from here. Your insubordination with your current work has earned you that.

Earned? she said. Let’s assume that I go along with this. What do you expect me to do?

Nothing, he said from the other side of his desk. Your work is done.

She fell silent and lowered her eyes, lest he see the hurt she felt. Uncomfortable, she waited for him to say something further.

Eventually, he did. You’re angry, but I don’t understand why this is a problem for you. It’s clear that you have no interest in the current project, so I relieved you.

That isn’t the point, and I don’t give a jinx about the job. It’s about the SDG report. My life’s work.

As I said, you’ve served your purpose to Mars. I’ll take over.

She was astonished. Did he think she was naïve and stupid enough to agree to this? Of course he didn’t, or else he would’ve asked her. But he had sent the report to her quarters. Why? It couldn’t be about gloating.

Why did you send the report to me? It makes no sense for you to steal it.

You’re a disgrace to your job. Your record is a handful thick, and it isn’t made up of commendations. It’s made up of reprimands and incident reports.

She was almost in tears but held them firmly within her. He must have seen how those words shook her, because he looked away from her.

You didn’t answer my question, she said. Why did you send the report to me?

To remind you of what your wild ways have cost you. I care for you, Robin, or else I would have fired you long ago. But I’m not about to let an opportunity slip away because Martian Command is worried about you.

Martian Command was the military protector of Mars and the might behind Martian arrogance. It controlled Mars and the outer planets and was headed by the speaker himself, which meant it was controlled by the corporations. Its main function, aside from protecting from an attack from Earth, was to control the space lanes from the thirty to forty deep space stations around the various planets and belts. Why would Martian Command worry?

You would fail every psychological test and cost us this prize.

Because I’m from Earth?

Partially. Mars isn’t on the friendliest terms with Earth, and the MSA doctrine that Martian One is professing is making it harder to defend your actions.

The MSA has been long dead. Robin couldn’t believe MSA principles could be any justification for this treatment. The MSA’s two-year rule over the solar system had expanded Mars’s reach throughout the system, their genetic engineering of the food supply had become commonplace on Mars to this day, and they had united the majority of Mars for the first time. A united Mars was a more powerful force.

Robin’s eyes narrowed at the professor. So the MSA rules the university now?

You’re a risk, he said without hesitation. Mars doesn’t like risks or bravado.

Doesn’t like bravado? The days of Parker McCloud aren’t that far behind us.

The Martian Command requested SDG info. I found the report, and they wanted an expert on the subject for experiments around Uranus. They needed me.

Robin’s brow furrowed. Martian Command is interested in the SDG? That makes no sense. It’s a domestic organization. Going beyond the Kuiper Belt isn’t its place. It’s seventy thousand light years away. Martian Command wanted my report?

No, he said quickly.

He was hiding something. He had misspoken, but he wasn’t about to do it again. She edged toward the desk, putting herself within reach of him.

He suddenly rose to his feet and moved close to her. Now, I caution you to forget about the SDG report and take a surveying job on Earth. I’ve put in a good word for you there.

She smelled his stale breath. He was nervous.

I’ll come back to reclaim my report, she said. You may think you’re clever, or your delusions may tell you that I’m feeble, but I’ll find out what you’re doing.

Don’t try, he said. It’s best you forget. Trust me.

She stalked out of the room, her steps quick, without a backward glance. She wanted him to know she was hurt and angry, and most of all, she wanted to leave him wondering what her next move would be. She would figure out why he wanted her report and why Martian Command wanted it. It wasn’t like him to be so malicious. Something was up.

Chapter 3

Shouldn’t I be the one worrying about what Martian Command will find out? Amanda Tibor said as she grabbed Kirkon’s pants from the bedside drawer.

Kirkon grunted, rolled out of bed, and stood shirtless in pajama pants. He had never much liked his tall, lanky frame, but he had been told many times by his sister that his deep blue eyes and combed-back blond hair made him handsome. Neither his physical appearance nor the luxuries of wealth mattered to him. His drive had always been to get to the SDG.

When he pined for it, he could always find a willing woman, but he had never had a girlfriend since his wife and daughter’s accident. Relationships simply held no interest, and he wasn’t sure his sister would allow him to have one, anyway. Her deep scrutiny of everything he did put a damper on his social life. She became overcritical and attempted to tear apart any reputation the woman had. Ten years ago, she ripped into one of the heiresses to the Algae Farmers Corporation and basically turned the family into farmers instead of farm owners. Her ruthlessness when it came to him was legendary, but only to him. On the outside, Amanda projected a stolid image of a professional woman. No one came close to seeing the viciousness behind the image.

A part of him thought that Amanda saw herself as his wife. After all, she dressed him and pushed him out the door each day.

Get up and brush your teeth, she barked.

On second thought, maybe she was his mother. As he wandered to the bathroom, he noticed the tight-fitting cargo pants and his long-sleeved thermo top laid out on the bed. It was his usual attire for brainstorming sessions at the office. Relaxed and casual was a lot better for thinking than a stuffy tie. He left that to his lawyers and engineers.

Once again, Amanda knew what he wanted. She was his sister, a top employee, and a beautiful middle-aged woman. She looked like her ancestors on the Grove side of their family, though her mean streak could be traced to their father’s side. Atalo Grove, her great-great-great-great-grandfather, had an entire section of Lunara named after him and was a hero of the forgotten Great War. She definitely had his amber-brown eyes and dark brown hair. Like Kirkon, she never held much regard for relationships in her life, and because they were inseparable, many on Mars assumed they were together in some incestuous relationship. He balked at those insinuations, sickened by the thought.

Mars didn’t understand that they were inseparable because Amanda was the only person in the solar system he trusted. If she left him, he would be lost, incapable of dealing with Mars. She also had a knack for coaxing out his genius and translating his ideas into business acumen. Luckily, his passion for the SDG was also her passion. Her weakness, which she’d never admit, was him. She worshiped what he could do with a schematic and steered all her energies into furthering his goals. They needed each other.

By the time he changed and was in the hovercar, Amanda had brought him breakfast to eat on the way into the office.

I gave another one million credits to Martian One, she said.

Good. He shifted into the back of the hovercar. I’m told they’re signing petitions to have greater Martian control over Mars. Restricting immigration.

I’m worried they’ll start more than a petition and perhaps hurt our image.

Come on, Kirkon said. Tensions are high, but Earth will cede.

His sister nodded. You’re probably right. They hid under the shield for decades.

I worry about Poole. It’s been days since the test, and he’s still nosing around our data.

Do you think he suspects it was falsified? Amanda asked.

I don’t see how. I created the data myself, and it’s airtight.

There’s so much data to go through. I think we had one hundred terabytes of info flow through the connection before it was disconnected. How can you be sure it lines up?

He waved his hand dismissively. Amanda worried too much about things she didn’t understand completely. I applied an adaptive algorithm on the data. I used existing data to create the false data. I just supplied a few starting point variables to alter it to our reality.

I understand your concepts, she said, but adaptive algorithms have been known to go viral on themselves, corrupting the data into an unreadable mess and creating false realities.

Not mine, he assured her. He understood her worry, though. Poole had found out something he didn’t like about Kirkon’s explanation, and Kirkon would spend today trying to figure out what. Poole and his cohorts were scheduled to visit this afternoon, and Poole was preparing his questions carefully to further his investigation.

Fine, Amanda said, frustrated. You take care of Poole.

I’m not sure I can…completely. He would never say he couldn’t to anyone in public, but Amanda had a way of getting the truth out of him. He saw something he didn’t like, and he’s like a dog on a bone with the information. I need to figure out what so I can twist it.

And if you can’t? she said. I’m not going to see this company fail because of some errant data. Jane and Kari would be ashamed if you failed because of your panic.

Kirkon’s anger rose toward his sister. His family’s accident was a source of guilt between the two. It had happened on one of his new ships. It had clearly been a malfunction, but his sister somehow thought it was their fault. Coming back to the present problem, he said, I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.

Okay, she said with no confidence behind her tone. It’s been three weeks since we returned from Uranus. Are you going to tell me what you saw before the probe disappeared?

No, he said. I’m still analyzing the data.

I’m your sister, and there are no secrets between us. You knew what it was exactly when you saw the data. I’m part of your conspiracy, so tell me what you know.

Guilt pulled on Kirkon. He had made her lie to Admiral Poole, though he had been sure she would do it, so he had some obligation to tell her what he knew. Yet, he hated telling anyone such a juicy secret. It was something big.

A comet?

He wanted to prolong her agony. Something a bit more metallic.

Iron chuck asteroid filled with metalor? she said quickly.

A bit more than that.

A bit more metallic than an iron chuck asteroid? She fingered her chin. No way!

No way. Ugh, Earth expressions. He detested earthlings. He considered them inferior and weak, but to Amanda’s credit, she’d kept an open mind about them because she said they might be useful to the corporation someday.

He nodded.

So it’s a starship. Whose is it?

He rolled his eyes. If I knew the dealings of alien cultures, I would’ve briefed you before sending the probe.

Amanda’s eyes widened. This could scrap the entire mission. We aren’t prepared for first contact. Do we even have mission parameters for first contact?

We already knew the meteor cluster came from somewhere with intelligence. The stream of meteors was too perfect to be a coincidence.

So why didn’t you mention it to anyone before the probe was sent?

Kirkon respected Amanda’s intelligence, but sometimes she didn’t see his angle. They would scrap the entire idea of hyperspace travel if it could lead any civilization back to the terran system. It’s the elephant in the room no one wanted to speak about.

Amanda let out a long breath. Leading a hostile civilization back to Mars isn’t the best way to ensure our ultimate survival.

Exactly! So I kept my mouth shut about it.

They looked out the window. In the distance, Trivium Port shifted into view. The port had a massive set of landing pads that stretched some five miles along the surface, leading to the central colony built into the side of a cliff. In Chloe Jones’s day, the port had six landing pads, but today there were an estimated five hundred, with each used almost on a continuous basis. The port was the central trading center in the solar system. If earthlings were accepted anywhere on Mars, Trivium Port provided a safe place for business. It was one of the reasons he didn’t care much for going into the office, but his transportation company had to be headquartered at Trivium, so he put up with it. He had built his mansion well outside of Trivium to avoid as much interaction with people as possible.

Finally, Amanda turned back to him. You’re afraid Martians will be treated like earthlings if an alien race overruns us?

So progressive of you. The earthlings we left behind were left for a reason. They’re inferior to Martians. Aliens and Martians will be different.

Amanda laughed at him. I know you don’t believe it. You’re too smart to believe everyone from Earth is worthless and inferior.

I know you’d never date an earthling, so why do you protect them?

It makes practical sense, she said. But Seth and Alexandria fought to save them from Mars, so it makes me think they’re needed somehow. They have a place among us, and their credits are as good as the credits of Martians for the corporation.

Kirkon shook his head. Seth’s fatal flaw is protecting Earth. Survival of the fittest has a valid place in society. I funnel money to Martian One for various reasons, but mostly I don’t like Earth tourists.

You don’t believe that, Amanda said. I know you care about Earth because of Chloe. Don’t put up a false exterior for my sake.

I don’t—

She cut him off. So what do we do about our current alien problem? We can’t show up in the SDG with scientific equipment and have several alien ships targeting us.

It’s by pure chance we picked the one planetary system the aliens occupy, he replied. I could’ve picked from dozens of systems, and I found the one with an alien ship running patrols.

How do you know they don’t occupy all dozen?

I don’t, really. I was just self-loathing at my bad luck. They could overrun the entire SDG. We’ve no way of knowing their technological level or how long they have been space travelers.

I think it’s terrific luck. We know what we’re dealing with.

Kirkon nodded thoughtfully. That’s an advantage. The data is promising, too.

Amanda looked at him with wide eyes. So are we brainstorming the alien starship today?

Kirkon pushed his head back into the headrest as the car slowed to a stop. I guess. I wanted to talk about the hyperdrive’s power usage, but it can wait. I’ll spend the morning going over what Poole may know.

I’ll come up with some scenarios if he does try to take the project from us.

Worry about the starship, not about Poole, he said, wanting to cheer her up.

Come on, then. She opened the door and hurried to the office.

Kirkon slowly made his way to the front doorway of his headquarters, wondering if telling Amanda about his discovery had unleashed a monster. She seemed excited by the prospect of interacting with the alien ship. It terrified him to no end.

Chapter 4

Robin looked at the computer screen again.

We are sorry, but your qualifications don’t match our needs at this time.

Yeah, she muttered. How many astrophysicists do you have applying? She knew the answer was probably not that many because it was a narrow field of study. It was that marker she had put on herself of earthling that had destroyed her chances. She simply wanted an opportunity to interview, and she wasn’t even getting that far. Her bank account was fast approaching zero credits, and Susan had warned her about missing her rent. It wasn’t a lecture she looked forward to hearing again.

The door chimed and, as if on cue, in walked Susan. She never seemed to wait for Robin to answer. Hello. Any luck today?

Nope.

That’s okay, Susan said with a cheerful hop. I talked to my captain again. You’re welcome aboard for the star charter position. Pay is crap, but you get to do some of what you trained to do.

Susan was a nurse on a deep space freighter. She was entirely Martian, with a lean, muscular physique, a beautiful face, and flowing light ash-brown hair down to the small of her back. She always dressed with low-cut tops and short skirts. She loved being a tease.

I’ll pass on the job, Robin said, but secretly, she thought about accepting the assignment. It meant six months of touring the Kuiper Belt. She would be in charge of charting the large objects and making sure the ice train didn’t hit any of them. It was decent work, but as Susan said, the pay wasn’t exactly great. It did include a bonus package if they hit any large pockets of water or resource finds.

You’re going if you don’t hear anything in two days. I told the captain so. He already has you on the manifest. He likes earthlings. He calls them funny and entertaining, so you had better have some good jokes for him.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Susan chuckled. I never got that one. Earthlings. She shook her head. What’s so funny about that?

Don’t look at me. I grew up here. Robin put her hands up as if she was innocent of a crime. I don’t understand them, either.

Did you get anywhere with Roberts?

Susan, she said, anger building within her, "they locked me out of the building. I went up to his office again, and he had me barred. Guards had my picture, so I wasn’t allowed within fifteen feet of the place. I don’t understand it. I didn’t do anything that wrong. So I created a report on the SDG behind everyone’s back. It was just a report on a system that nobody cares about. It wasn’t like I was creating a superweapon or something. It was a star chart."

He obviously wants it for something.

He’s taking it to Uranus for some Martian Command thing. I guess they’re using it. I can’t imagine for what.

You can think about it in the Kuiper Belt. Pack some personal items and plenty of games and puzzles. It can get boring even with over a hundred crew members. Some of the boys and girls are worth socializing with. Everyone is immunized, so you don’t have to worry about anything that way.

I’ll think about it, Robin said. We have a race tomorrow. Ackley sent me a reminder, but it’s odd that MASHER didn’t send me anything. MASHER was short for Martian Surface Hovercar Racing. It was an amateur competition for about fifty Martian hobbyists. Robin was a driver on the circuit in her spare time. Her father, when he was alive, was big on the circuit, and his reputation had gained her access originally. Her ability to stay with the pack had kept her in the races, and she’d even won a few, earning some extra credits. She could use a win tomorrow.

Wanna hit the clubs tonight? Susan asked. You need to take your mind off Roberts and the SDG. Have a little fun so you aren’t so uptight.

Okay. But first, I want to show you why the SDG is so important to me. She grabbed Susan’s hand, and they walked toward the trains.

The tower on the western edge of Zephyria was a glittering playground for astronomers. The supercomputers contained within were hooked into hundreds of different telescopes scattered around the solar system: one in orbit above Mars, one over Ares in direct counter orbit, and even one past Saturn. To simulate a nighttime environment of ground-based classic astronomers, the lights of a few scattered computer screens lit the darkened communal room of the Martian planetarium. Robin and Susan looked into the sky through the transparent steel roof above.

We came all the way to the other side of Zephyria colony for this? Susan complained.

Our telescope is pointed toward there. Robin tilted Susan’s head up and to the left.

What was so important to show me?

There. Robin pointed her finger toward a cluster of stars. That’s the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy.

Susan narrowed her eyes. Fine. Where?

Look into the telescope.

Susan looked at the monitor in front of her. In orbit, the thousand-eye telescope adjusted one of its lenses to their query. Susan leaned in. A twist of her mouth let Robin know she wasn’t impressed.

It’s a bunch of stars, Susan said. I don’t see any meteors coming out from it.

You’re not going to see meteors from light years away, Robin explained. You see a bunch of different colored dots. I see a tapestry of amazing star systems. She tapped on the screen. The screen zoomed to a closer view. Those red dots are half a million red dwarf stars clustered together. They’re circling themselves, creating almost a subgalaxy within the galaxy.

It’s pretty, but how’s that better than flying over Saturn?

It tells us a lot about gravity patterns, Robin said. My formulas can be used for the Oort Cloud to help miners locate heavier objects.

How does that help? Iron chunks are plentiful.

But what if you see an iron chunk that weighs a lot less than it appears in volume? What would that tell you?

It’s hollow?

Robin tapped on her hand. Or that there’s metalor in the asteroid.

Because we can’t detect metalor all the time, Susan said, realizing what she was telling her. Can you plot the metalor asteroids in the Oort Cloud? We’re rich if you can.

In theory, yes, but it’s only a theory.

Even if there was a chance, Roberts probably found out and is trying to take it from you and start a company.

I still have the formulas and the report, Robin said. What good would it do him? It’s not like the knowledge is hidden.

Susan picked at her chin. You have a point there. But he does have the capital behind him. We’ve got nothing.

‘We’ve got nothing’? Robin exclaimed. Are we starting a business?

Why not? One metalor asteroid and we can retire…and I can find my own Martian man instead of always looking for someone to take care of me.

Like Kirkon Tibor?

Tibor. Susan’s eyes glazed over. A woman can dream…

You’ll never even meet him, let alone marry him.

You never know, Susan said, pushing her cleavage together.

That’ll get him, Robin said dryly. Why are you looking for someone to take care of you? You do so well on your own as head nurse and navigator. You’re practically an officer on the long-haul voyages.

Don’t forget I can pilot, too, Susan said. I just like the easy life. Seems like waking up at noon and sitting along Lake Miranda is a good day to me.

Kinda like when we were kids. Lake Miranda was a fun place.

Susan nodded. I guess I never escaped the comfort of being a kid. That’s probably why we’re still such good friends.

"What does that