Rebel Girl of Mars

By J. Kirsch

Welcome to Ren One, a bustling Martian colony home to a stubborn girl. Zayna has always seen herself as a plant and animal-loving geek with a tomboy's heart, but she's never really needed to use her adaptability...until now. When Mars is cut off from Earth, the ordinary descends into a high-stakes fight for dwindling resources as some grasp the opportunity to seize power. Zayna knows she'll need the help of her new boyfriend and ex best-friend-forever not just to get out of this alive, but to prevent her from losing the only family she has left. What she doesn't realize is that the clue to the future might not be inside the colony, but lying secretly within Mars itself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Kirsch
• Release date: Jul 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311306395

J. Kirsch

I'm an avid writer, traveler, and dog lover. I grew up in Chicago, IL raised by two librarians with a sincere love for storytelling, and the rest has been one long and mostly memorable adventure. I have published 3 novels, 7 novellas and more than 65 short stories. My stories have been featured on The Book Cave, received praise from award-winning authors, and become bestsellers on Amazon and Smashwords. I currently live in Spartanburg, SC, where I have the privilege of working with amazing people who love books and storytelling as much as I do.

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Rebel Girl of Mars

By J. Kirsch

Copyright © 2015 J. Kirsch

White Phoenix Press

All rights reserved. Smashwords edition

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Acknowledgments

I have to offer my deepest appreciation to everyone who has been there for me throughout the creative rollercoaster that is the writing and publishing process. Bree, thank you for being my voracious reader, ruthlessly honest critic, and priceless partner in crime.

I also would like to extend my sincere gratitude to everyone from my writing gang—Gail, Rick, Jim, Richard, Roger, Jerry, and many others who have helped me, whether through their wise words or rare talents, surpass anything I once dreamed possible.

PROLOGUE

The Grand Canyon of Earth was a child's fingernail scraped through sand in contrast to where we were.

Renascentia One was intended to be the first of a miraculous breed. They were supposed to build a second and third colony elsewhere on the Martian surface, but as is always the way with ambitious projects—budgets seldom go according to plan. Ren One, as we Martians called it, was a hidden gem deep in the Valles Marineris, a canyon so vast that it gouged an impressive scar across the reddish surface, stretching more than 2,500 miles long. Sheltered deep in this canyon, which my younger brother jokingly called 'the big butt crack of Mars,' and with a newly designed improved radiation shield, our little colony of 1,600 or so souls was humanity's first respectable footprint beyond home.

Under my father's watchful eye I'd come here, an 'adolescent girl full of so many uninformed ideas,' as he too often liked to remind me. And it wasn't easy being a bigwig's kid, having a microscope trained on me wherever I went.

Khalid Hussein, Vice Chancellor and Secondary Captain of the Colony, was the man I called Dad. As leader of the colony second only to Primary Captain Ramirez, people might have expected power to go to his head. But luckily my father just wasn't hardwired that way, and in the harsh environment of Mars the constant struggle for survival tended to weed out the luxury of ego-stroking anyway.

One might think I had it all, had everything a girl could want, being one of the privileged. I didn't.

Mine was a family ripped in two—separated by the gulf of space between Mars and Earth, where my mother and younger siblings still lived. When the colonization committee had been formed with my dad put on the team to lead it, all my siblings were very young—too young to make the voyage without serious harm from the in-transit radiation. I was thirteen, just barely old enough to go...and so, with an embarrassing, waterworks-filled goodbye and hugs tighter than a spacesuit's sealant, my father and I had made our farewells to Mom, Alexa, Jordan, and Samuel.

That was six years ago.

CHAPTER 1

Today began like any other, but I had no idea how my world was about to be turned upside down...and not just mine, but everyone's.

I woke up today, and like almost any other day I scrubbed myself clean with recyclable wipes and flung on my steam-pressed uniform before reporting to Hydroponics. Checking on the status of plants may not sound glamorous—gene-spliced onions, cabbages, radishes, the list goes on—but nutrition on Mars isn't something we took for granted. Dust was the only thing you could eat on the actual surface of Mars, and that was assuming the thin atmosphere and often plunging temperatures didn't kill you first. Food, shelter, breathable air...none of these were a given, not on the Red Planet.

On my way to Hydroponics I stopped at the Bunker—Dad's unofficial name for it, not mine. The conference room had a table with beveled glass edges and looked as coldly sterile as some of the faces that swiveled my direction as I snuck in. The Admin Group had its weekly meetings here, Admin being the equivalent of our colony's tiny government. These meetings were usually dry, boring, not to mention mind-crushing affairs. I could just as easily have sent Dad a message on my pocket-com, but I knew he appreciated seeing my face and providing at least a few seconds' relief from the petty debates that too often broke out.

I had to squeeze past Captain Ramirez to get to Dad. A jolt ran down my arm, not the fuzzy-warm kind, the unsettling variety. I tried to avoid shuddering as I passed his chair. His gaze roamed to my face for barely a second, and when we made eye contact I thought I saw some of that old look in his eyes. Too soon it was gone, covered up with that unreadable, bland expression politicians are so good at.

Dad looked up at me brightly. Despite his age he looked about a decade younger, his eyes crinkling with humor. I leaned down, popping open my pocket-com near his lap so he could sneak a peek at the words while I spoke.

I'll be back an hour late from Hydroponics. Just wanted to make sure you knew. We're growing a new sub-species.

Dad looked down at my pocket-com's screen.

Love you. I hope the Wicked Witch and Dr. Frankenstein don't give you too much trouble today. Try not to maul them too badly. He hid the smile, but I could see it in his eyes anyway. That was fortunate, because Katelyn Vail and Director Rieksen were at the other end of the large conference table and they probably wouldn't have appreciated my nicknames for them. They seldom saw eye-to-eye with my Dad—understatement of the century.

I gave Dad a peck on the cheek and scooted toward my escape hatch, consciously skirting the other side of the table so that I wouldn't have to brush past Ramirez this time. I could hear the tail-end of an argument as I made my way to the exit.

I don't see why we're even discussing this, Vail said. Rieksen nodded as if Vail's words were flush with eternal wisdom.

"We're discussing it because it involves the rights of every colonist, Dad said, unfazed. Security officers deserve some discretion in enforcing regulations, but that doesn't extend to purging postings on a community screen, even if it is inflammatory. The entire point of those community screens in designated areas is to give colonists the ability to vent, to organize, whatever they need to do to feel that they have a voice. The popularity of that voice isn't relevant here." Dad's tone had some heat on it, lashing across the table like a well-aimed whip.

Rieksen threw up his hands. I have to agree with Vail on this. You seem to be making a volcano out of a molehill, Vice Chancellor. My security officers' goal is to improve everyone's safety. Taking down postings that incite anger are well within those parameters.

No, Dad said, gaze hard as steel. Deciding which posts 'incite anger' and which do not involve a lot more than the clear-cut simplicity you want to portray, and we both know it. Your security officers will not attempt to censor the content of those community boards unless it involves a clear threat of bodily injury or harm to a member or members of this colony. Is that clear?

I had lingered near the door just long enough so that I could hear Rieksen get the drubbing he deserved. With a smile no one else could see I walked out and let the door shut behind me with its velvety hiss. Hydroponics, here I come…I wasn't looking forward to processing the human poop we used for fertilizer. Yep, when the hunk of rock you lived on wasn't exactly lush with vegetation or brimming with breathable air, you tended to reuse a lot of things—even things you didn't want to.

After my lengthy shift in Hydroponics I knocked lightly on Dad's quarters. Routines could be boring, yet they could also be comforting. Little did I know that my routines were about to be shattered forever.

Come in, Zayna.

How was it that he could always tell it was me, as if my knock had a particular tone, the way my knuckles struck the smooth sheen of the door?

What's cooking? I asked, but I already knew. He flipped a healthy dose of sautéed vegetables with scrambled eggs into a bowl. My stomach protested like an unruly kid, and I quickly began scarfing down the protein-laden goodness. Between bites I even managed a modicum of conversation.

How was Mrs. Reese?

I grunted an equivalent of 'good.'

Are the experiments with the new strain of corn going well?

Another positive grunt somehow escaped my lips between forkfuls of yummy-ness.

Did you see Skyler?

I rolled my eyes. Dad liked trolling for info about my love life, especially shortly before a face-to-face vid 'cast with Mom or relatives back on Earth. Skyler had been my boyfriend for all of two months. Things were still in this promising yet sort of awkward stage. There wasn't much to tell, and even if there was Dad would be the last person in the solar system I would tell it to.

Fine, be that way. Torture your poor father. At least I have three other children who love me, he grumbled with a teasing tone that somehow showed a loving affection that not even the biggest hug could convey. I gave him a peck on the cheek and went back to inhaling my food.

Just then the see-screen along the wall came to life with a green, glowing frisson of light and a soothing ping signaled that Mom was calling from Earth. Dad swiped his finger across to answer.

Mom's face, framed by curly dark hair that had yet to yield a speck of grayness, smiled at us with her familiar warmth. This morning tradition was the best part of her day, and that made me compulsively happy for her even if the constant contact seemed overkill at times. The five-minute delay as our messages zipped back and forth between two planets divided by millions of miles or kilometers no longer seemed as agonizing to me.

If it isn't my two favorite Martians. Zayna! How are you, sweetheart?

I cringed. Just last week we'd had a discussion about the word 'sweetheart' and how to eradicate it from Mom's vocabulary with genocidal fervor...especially where I was concerned.

Mom... I said, the exasperation clear on my face even if it hadn't already laced my voice.

She looked a little more hyperactive than usual, so I didn't press her. My eight-year-old brother Jordan peeked over her shoulder and stuck his tongue out at me before blowing me a kiss.

Big Sis is a sweetheart! he said, laughing as only annoying younger brothers can. Are your thumbs green yet?

I had tried explaining to Jordan that hydroponics was not the same as gardening, but he still told his classmates that his oldest sister was a 'gardener in space.' He liked to tease