A Rose from Red Dust
A Romantic SF Story by Holly_Gonzalez
Love at first sight—a sham glorified in every holo-flick. With the strike of a long-lashed eye, a femme fatale waylaid all hearts. Queue in angled lights, fog, a tragic score, the usual schtick. I didn't expect much from a new romantic thriller, let alone with an obscure actress in the lead, but my friends had insisted I see this movie.
"The Bootlegger's Bride". Dodgy title, loose premise of a back-alley H20 lounge and the deviant lives surrounding it. Mindless entertainment for the average Joe. I leaned back in my seat and prepared for the worst. Even mediocre holo-cinema was an excuse to get away from my office. Away from my brother's prying questions. An evening to myself, sans all disguises.
The opening credits rolled, and the scene panned over dim streets. A chilly night manifested within the glow of the Silver Sphere.
When Ethlyne Mayweather first turned her face to the camera, my jaw dropped. She was a goddess and seductress fused as one, triumphs and sorrows bound in an exquisite frame. Nuances swayed with her hips. Though her lines were trite, she delivered them with conviction and poise, and her talent carried the film beyond its realm.
I left the theater in a sort of daze.
"Good evening, Mr. Blane." My chauffeur nodded and opened the door of my hover sedan. "Did you enjoy the cinema?"
"It was remarkable." I tipped my fedora to him as I eased into the back seat. "Home, if you will, old sport?"
"Of course, sir."
Along the way, I accessed the Net and tuned to the film's official hub. Long threads of fan comments drifted through my wristcom's holo-display.
I added my own to the praise. "(User) CFBlane: What a splendid performance. Bravo from Secundis, Miss Mayweather." Spoken from my personal account. Castor Felix Blane, easy to decipher from the initials.
The usual deluge of replies ensued. Any message I posted on the Net became a sensation. The drawback of celebrity. Silas wouldn't approve of my interaction in public channels, but I didn't care what my brother thought now.
I was smitten with a rising star.
A few months later, when I learned Ethlyne Mayweather was filming a new movie on Mars, I wanted to meet her at any cost.
***
Sweat dripped into Ethlyne's eyes. The rumble of heavy machinery drummed into her skull. She dumped a shovel of raw Martian regolith into a trap. So much dust. She nearly choked. Mars was the dirtiest backwater she'd ever visited. She wiped her brow and forced herself to the end of the take.
Hover-cams drifted around her, recording every angle. Her manager had insisted this role would be her big break, but the only things breaking were her back and her sanity.
"And cut!" The director, Mr. Atwood, shouted through his megaphone. "Much improved, Miss Mayweather. That's a wrap."
Thank goodness.
Ethlyne groaned, set the shovel down, and walked off-camera. Brass-plated custodian units bustled around her in a whir of cogs and actuators, offering handkerchiefs and ice water and electronic praise. If only the director was as gracious as the robots.
She collapsed into her chair and sipped a glass of water. While Mr. Atwood argued with the lead grip, she glanced at the bedraggled extras who lounged nearby, waiting for their scene. Real Martian miners. Men and women who worked long and hard, doing what had nearly caused her to swoon. Tough, lean, their faces worn and uniforms smudged with grime, their reality wasn't a movie.
"Jess Of The Red World" was a fictional representation of the miners' plight, but they seemed happy to work for a major cinematic production. Like her, the miners were merely pawns in Mr. Atwood's grandiose scheme. The first holo-flick filmed entirely on Mars. A spectacle for the ages and a glimpse into the rustic, often dismal conditions here.
Mr. Atwood approached in his tall boots and jodhpurs, his flat cap turned backwards, a dark-lensed monocle over one eye. His grin was polished, but distant. "We'll call if for now. Get some rest, doll. You'll need it for the Everblue gala tonight."
Everblue. She'd nearly forgotten about the party. "Do I have to go? I'd love a night off after that last scene."
"You certainly must." Atwood loomed over her. "You're the star, and Everblue's our biggest sponsor. Stop loafing about the set and talking to horses. PR is a big part of your contract." He ran a finger over her dirty sleeve. "And this...great for the character. You're the very image of Jess, but wear something stylish tonight."
Ethlyne pushed herself to her feet. "Fine."
"That's the ticket." Atwood winked.
She sighed and walked away.
Sunlight beamed through the colony's shield dome high above. Bright, but casting little warmth. Mars was cold, barren, lonely. Not that she minded the solitude. She often preferred it. Her best friends had four legs, fins, and feathers, not two legs and fake smiles. How she missed her little country villa on Earth. The sooner this movie was finished, the better.
The current set centered around an ore refinery at the eastern side of Secundis, the largest surface colony on the planet. A semi-subterranean habitat, Secundis rested alongside a vast canyon called Valles Marineris and supported a population of about 500,000. Spartan and industrial. Vegetation and parks were scarce, and animals were even more rare.
Fortunately, one unique creature did exist here. In an secluded corner of the set, near the crew trailers, stood an aluminum corral. Ethlyne walked toward it and whistled."Ginger!"
A tall, cream-coated mare trotted to the fence, bringing a smile to Ethlyne's face. She ducked through the rails and patted Ginger's neck. "Did you miss me, girl?"
The horse snuffled at Ethlyne's hair and coveralls. Sweet brown eyes, mane and tail like plumed clouds, Ginger was slender as a racehorse but gentle as a child's pony. Not a real horse, but gen-gineered for the movie and customized to flourish on Mars. She was real enough for Ethlyne.
"You're my only true friend here." Ethlyne hugged the horse. "I love my job, bringing characters and stories to life in the Silver Sphere. I want to entertain people, but I need time for myself, too. Atwood doesn't understand."
Ginger tossed her head as if to agree.
"I'll tell you a secret. What I'd really like someday, after all this show biz, is a family. I had one once, when I was little. The Kaezer took me and my brother away from our parents during the War. After Black Sky Day. We never saw Mom or Dad again. Like all the other lost kids, we were sent to the ration camps for conditioning. Charlie was just sixteen...and the Pruessian troopers shot him when he refused to salute at a rally. The rest of my family was all gone by the time peace returned. I never found them." Her throat clenched, eyes misting. "You see, I've got nobody except you. Oh, and my chickens, my cats, and my pet goat at home. Everyone thinks I've got a lover hidden in a lofty tower somewhere. Some rich beau. It isn't true, but every now and then, I wish it was."
She cuddled with Ginger a while longer, let a few tears fall, and scurried away before someone caught her talking to horses again.
***
Ethlyne retired to her trailer and locked the door. Time to get ready for the party. A hot steam bath soothed her weary muscles. She would've loved a full soak, but bath time was regulated.
Water was rendered pure and safe by Everblue's miracle patent and rationed to the masses by the Administration of the United Worlds. At the end of the great War with the Pruessian Empire over a decade ago, Earth's rivers, lakes, and oceans had been tainted with a bio-weapon. Clean water was thus humanity's most valuable resource.
In a dim childhood memory, Ethlyne recalled a time when she'd visited the seashore and played without care in the waves. Those days were long gone. A dip in the sea nowadays brought agonizing death. Everblue's filtration process was vital, but also expensive and tedious. Steam washes and dry-sud products were now commonplace, the frugal consequence of life in a parched post-War solar system.
Once she was clean and relaxed, she rummaged through her wardrobe for an outfit. Something respectable, but trendy. No fringe or faux jewels. She chose a drop-waisted frock, dyed an icy azure hue that matched her eyes. Tiny beads formed parallel fans and swirls along the front. Her shoulders, legs, and back were exposed, swathed in layers of wispy chiffon. As a final touch, she pinned a headband with dangling pearl loops over her platinum bob.
A convoy of chartered limousines arrived to transport the film crew to Everblue's headquarters. Ethlyne rode alongside Mr. Atwood and tried to appear cheerful. She smiled and laughed and toasted along when they popped a bottle of champagne.
Three kilometers of nondescript buildings and narrow byways later, the limo climbed the side of the Secundis ravine. Atop the colony's highest ledge, the chromed steel and marble Everblue spire rose over a grid of mansionettes and hoity-toity businesses. The mega-corporation's distinctive water drop logo floated in a giant hologram high above.
At the valet port, the film crew poured out of their limos and strolled inside. Beyond the glistening doors, the foyer widened into a sumptuous audience hall. A jazz ensemble romped upon a bandstand, while the crowd tossed their heels, top hats, and plumed headpieces in time. Robots milled about with trays of drinks and refreshments.
The raised VIP platform bordered the opposite wall, roped off the main floor, and a fashionable group loitered upon it.
Atwood urged Ethlyne to follow. "Come. You must meet our host."
They climbed the terrace steps and greeted the socialites. Grins and handshakes assailed them, pleasant yet refined. A trio of vampish young women with sculpted tresses and barely-there frocks ogled Ethlyne. Narrow-eyed, they pressed long-stemmed atomizers to their painted bow lips and exhaled elegant vape clouds.
"Look here! Our guests of honor have arrived," said a handsome man in the middle of the well-to-do's. He stood and flashed a contagious smile, nodding once to Atwood. With a bow, he kissed Ethlyne's hand. His fingernails were manicured, palms warm yet surprisingly rough for his social status. Clean-shaven, of average but pleasing height, he appeared to be Ethlyne's age—about thirty. A well-tailored tux and waistcoat flattered his athletic physique. Capable shoulders, strong chest and arms, a lean torso. His eyes fixated on Ethlyne, their astounding blue defined by straight dark brows. A slight widow's peak spearheaded his slicked brown hair. He moved easy and confident, every gesture suave, his expression lit with subtle mirth.
"Pleased to meet you, sir," Ethlyne said, her voice wavering.
"Beyond enchanted, Miss Mayweather. I'm Castor Blane, Everblue's Director of Martian Operations." He pointed to the velvet-cushioned sofa beside him. "Please, sit with us."
The youngest of the two famous Blane brothers, Castor ranked among the wealthiest, most influential men in the known worlds. And he was much easier on the eyes than Ethlyne had expected.
She settled next to Mr. Blane, and Atwood sat opposite them. The other guests jostled closer, sprawling over the available chairs. Custodian units served drinks and appetizers upon silver trays. The conversation ebbed from "Jess of the Red World" to Atwood's upcoming projects to Everblue's purification research.
Ethlyne answered questions as graciously as she could, fidgeting with the tassels at the end of her long necklace.
One of the vamps sidled behind Castor and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her breasts grazed the edge of her low-cut bodice. "Castor, darling, do tell about your progress in ice mining. It's so interesting. To think, untainted water right under our feet, here on Mars. Can it possibly be true?" She grinned, teeth perfect, fingers curled around his lapels.
Castor shrugged and leaned away. "We have only rumors from remote expeditions. If a frozen ocean exists, Mars will become the prize of the solar system. Until we can prospect more efficiently beyond the Belt, that is. Several moons on the frontier have shown water readings, but Mars is a more economical choice in the meantime."
Speculations flared from all sides, everyone clamoring for Castor's attention. Ethlyne sank further into her seat, crossed one ankle over the other, and sipped her cocktail. While the bright young things around her reminisced about extravagant lifestyles and daring parties, she wanted to leave.
She excused herself with a shy pretense to visit the lavatory. What she really craved was a breath of fresh air and silence. If only she could be on Earth or back at the set with Ginger. She wandered away from the noisy gathering and sneaked out a side door.
Outside lay a shadowy enclosed pavilion, no other people in sight, lush with manicured plants and vines. Geometric patterns of stone tile arced in a sunburst motif toward a tall fountain in the center. The water cascaded into a shallow pool, illuminated with shifting spotlights. It had been too long since she'd visited a pretty garden.
Decorative water was only found in upper-crust circles. Wasteful, but the gentle splash gladdened her now. She couldn't resist taking off her shoes and dangling her bare feet in.
As she swirled her toes and hands in the delightful coolness, footsteps closed behind her. She snapped her head toward the sound. A rude stranger, stalking her?
"Pardon me. I didn't mean to alarm you." It was a man's voice. Gentle, familiar. Castor stepped into a shaft of overhead light.
Ethlyne scrambled upright, grabbing her pumps and stockings, one hand propped at a brazen angle on her hip.
He stood alone. Hands buried in his pockets, face earnest.
As she walked toward the door, he brushed her arm with a hesitant touch.
"Forgive me for following you, but are you alright? You left rather suddenly."
"I'm fine. Please excuse me." She gave him a haughty, well-rehearsed glare. One that made men back off if they knew what was best for them.
Castor didn't flinch. "Is there anything I can get you? Another drink?"
"No. I was just admiring the fountain."
"Yes...of course." He cleared his throat. "My brother installed this extravagance here. Admittedly, I think it's tasteless. Flaunting water isn't my style, but Silas isn't known for humility. And he's got the final say in Everblue. I had to give it a purpose before I could stand it. See the tiny specks darting about? Those aren't fish. They're a robotic prototype my engineers are developing. Filtering water at the molecular level. I hope to introduce them as a new purification method for the company."
"Oh." She watched the small robots swarm about the pool. "They're fascinating."
He studied her. "I hope I'm not annoying you. I just wanted to chat. It's difficult to have a conversation with all those fawners in there."
Ethlyne crossed her arms. "So, you abandoned your distinguished company to join me out here in the dark?"
"Yes. Well, I'm a big fan of your movies." He paused, grin sheepish. "You must hear that from everyone you meet."
"Not exactly. I have critics as well as fans."
"Don't we all?" He inhaled sharply and regarded her with a curious tilt of his head. "And are you enjoying Mars so far?"
"As much as I can. There's not much to do. Outside the colony, that is. Just dust and rocks. It's quaint."
"Quaint. You're right about that." He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. "Has no one shown you around our planet, Miss Mayweather?"
"No. I don't really have time for sightseeing. Filming and all. It'd be nice, though."
"I agree. Mars has much to offer. You just have to know where to look." His cedar-vanilla cologne pervaded the air, clean and inviting. "I'd be honored to show you the local landmarks, if you're interested."
"I'd like that."
Castor removed a notebook and an old-fashioned ink pen from his pocket. Beaming, he wrote something down, tore the page off, and folded it into her outstretched palm. "My contact. Call me when you'd like to go exploring. Or if you ever want someone to talk to. This planet can overwhelm newcomers with its solitude. You can be among the most joyous crowd and still feel utterly alone. I know it as well as anyone."
She liked him, but the awkward newness of it raised a shudder. "I should get back to the party."
"As should I. May I escort you?" He offered his arm, and she accepted it with a slow smile.
They returned to the rowdy applause of Castor's entourage and her own co-workers. A hot blush rose in Ethlyne's cheeks.
Though they separated among scattered cliques for a while, Castor and Ethlyne returned to each other more than once. Several times that night, she caught him staring at her across the room.
***
When Ethlyne had time off, she called Castor.
"Miss Mayweather!" Excitement edged his voice. "I assume you'd like my unofficial Martian tour."
"And how. I expect nothing less than an adventure."
"Challenge accepted." His laughter was nervous. "Be ready by ten, and wear trousers, if you have them. Not a dress or skirt."
She lifted a corner of her lips in amusement. "So, this is a casual affair?"
"You might say that. Nothing's formal about Mars. You'll see."
Once she'd disconnected, she changed into the soft cotton trousers and button-down shirt she often sported as her character and eagerly awaited her escort.
He arrived at mid-morning and alerted her with a brisk honk outside her trailer. When she opened the door, she gasped. He sat astride a souped-up hovercycle, a streamlined showpiece of curves, finned rotor flaps, and chromed accents. The engine hummed, lev generators glowing blue. Its brass and platinum exhaust coils sparkled in the filtered sunlight.
Castor's brown leather jacket and riding pants flattered his physique. Rugged, thick-soled mining boots were strapped up to his knees. His hair hung loose to his cheekbones in a smooth, boyish undercut. He pushed his opaque goggles to his forehead and grinned. "Good afternoon. It's wonderful to see you."
She swept her gaze over him. "It's nice to see you, too. Well. Are you going to show me what this desolate planet of yours is all about?"
"But of course. Shall we?"
Swinging a leg over the back seat, she climbed on.
At the flick of his wrists, the thrusters wailed. The anti-grav field shimmered beneath them, and they raced away from the set. He sped reckless around bends and corridors far too narrow for two-way traffic. Ethlyne clung with arms and legs, heart thumping in her chest.
When they arrived at the airlock, the Admin officers scanned Castor as a VIP and cleared them both for passage. The colonial suppliers issued them high quality enviro-suits.
Ethlyne pulled her suit over her clothing, and Castor assisted her with the many straps, buckles, and seals. The suit pressurized and melded to the contours of her body. Once all was secure, they mounted the hovercycle and waited in the pressure chamber.
The countdown began. An indicator light blinked beside the massive steel portal. At zero, it flashed green, and a loud buzzer blared. Gears squealed. Hydraulic compressors hissed and churned.
"Hold on," Castor said, his voice crisp over the helm mic.
The door spun aside, and Castor revved the engine. They shot out of the darkened airlock. The horizon expanded, a dull, brownish yellow where the thin atmosphere basked in wan sunlight.
Sharp rocks, ridged basalt, and fallen meteorites littered the terrain. Faster still. Ground blurred, and the colony domes receded behind them.
Skirting the treacherous edge of Valles Marineris, Castor pushed the cycle to the limit. About five kilometers out, he finally slowed. They parked beside a jagged outcrop and dismounted.
"This is a spectacular vista," he said. "One of my favorites."
Ethlyne followed him up a steady rise. When she reached the top, vertigo crept up her spine. Castor extended a hand to her, and she grasped it for support.
She'd only seen images of such grandeur, a sheer canyon wall riddled with strange formations, niches, and crevasses. The bottom hazed into a blanket of shadows, many kilometers a drop. If only she could see it all, far beyond, with nothing to obscure her view of land and sky.
She turned to Castor and met the gleaming shield of his helm. "This is incredible."
"Steals your breath away, doesn't it?"
She nodded, dumbfounded.
He squeezed her hand. "There's more. Shall we continue?"
Ethlyne had never imagined Mars harbored such beauty. Rocks, dust, and chasms came alive when she walked among them, touched them, admired them up close.
A few hours later, Castor looked at the sky. The pinpoint of sun dipped lower. "We should get back soon. But, if you like, I have one more surprise for you."
"I'd love to see it."
They rode to the lip of a ravine and stepped away from the hovercycle.
He pointed at the craggy passage before them. "It's a short hike, but it may change your life. It certainly changed mine."
They descended a short trail to a smooth, banded wall. Mysterious figures were entrenched within. Ethlyne ran a gloved hand over one—the remains of a spiral-shelled animal. Trapped in its final moment, entombed in a bed of crumbling stone.
"Little sea creatures." A chill rushed through her.
"There were vast oceans on Mars once," Castor said. "Long ago. Who can say what ultimately dried them up? It's my dream to find what's left of them. The miners often detect traces of immense ice shelves, far underground, but we've never pinpointed the motherlode. If we can confirm the location and develop viable harvesting technology, we might end the water rationing. My research teams pursue every lead. Someday, I'll bring hope to our thirsty worlds."
As Castor marveled at the fossils, Ethlyne marveled at him. Possessed of a great purpose, not for a personal vendetta or accomplishment. And he was dashing, to boot. She'd known him barely a week, but she wanted to know him better.
When they returned to the hovercycle, he offered her the driver's spot.
"Oh, no." She laughed. "I don't know how."
"Nonsense. I'll teach you."
"Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you if we crash." Biting her lip, she straddled the cycle's forward seat and gaped at the intricate controls on the dash.
"Don't worry. You don't need to monitor all of them." He mounted behind her and leaned over her shoulder to instruct. Patient and enthusiastic, he showed her the ignition switch, the accelerator, the brake mechanism, and the most important dials. After a few bumpy stops and starts, a wobbled veer as she practiced using her weight, she decided to risk it.
"You're a pro already," Castor teased.
"Only with your help. I think I've got this, though."
"Of course you do. I have faith in you."
The reassuring nearness of his body distracted her, his muscles firm even through the bulky enviro-suit. She forced herself to focus on the terrain and the cycle.
As they approached the colony, she spotted an ore freighter, a long train of supply cars with a sturdy fusion engine at the lead.
"Race it," Castor said. "I dare you."
Ethlyne laughed and flicked the hovercycles nitro-boost switch. The thrusters burst with sudden velocity.
With an excited shout, Castor circled his arms around her waist.
She bent over the dash, her grip deft on the handlebars.
When they reached the airlock, they continued through the pressure gate and returned their enviro-suits on the other side. Ethlyne drove the hovercycle all the way back to her trailer, reveling in Castor's embrace. In spite of herself, she wanted more time with him. She turned off the cycle's engine and sighed.
So close, so handsome.
Castor stared at her for a long, delicious moment.
Though it was their first outing, she tilted her face toward his and hoped he might kiss her.
He kissed her hand instead. Such a gentleman. His touch lingered warm on her skin.
"When may I see you again?" he asked.
"I have filming all week, but I'd love to meet you."
He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "Tomorrow? The day after?"
"Tomorrow. Please."
She'd known a few lovers before, other men who'd come and gone, but none she cared to remember. Castor was the first, the only one, to claim her heart. He always had something new to show her or a fun place to take her, and he made her laugh until her belly hurt. She spent more and more time with him and no longer moped around the set.
A rare treat arrived when a traveling carnival from the orbital habitats toured through Secundis. Castor brought Ethlyne there for another date. A jaunt on the carousel, the roller coaster, and a boat ride through the haunted tunnel thrilled her. She snuggled into him, clasped his hand, and rested her head against his. At the game alley, she threw a small ring over a bottle's neck and won him a stuffed parrot toy.
When they returned to the set, she introduced him to Ginger.
"Isn't she wonderful? She's a great listener. Always cheers me up when I'm blue."
Castor scratched Ginger's ears. "She's beautiful." He grinned, then turned to Ethlyne. "But you are the most astonishing, most beautiful person I've ever met."
Slowly, Ethlyne reached for him.
He slid one hand around her neck, the other around her hips. His lips melted into hers, and a radiant warmth engulfed her, as if two embers blazed in one searing flame.
***
Six weeks had passed since Ethlyne arrived to Mars. Filming was nearly complete, and Atwood called for the final shots on the movie's climactic scene.
During a grueling afternoon session, the young Martian orphan named Jess—alias Ethlyne—crouched in a dilapidated building with a squad of extras. She wielded a pulse-rifle replica in her hands, a bandolier of blank grenades around her torso. Smoke machines billowed. Loudspeakers boomed with pre-recorded demolitions, a simulation of a worker uprising against cruel employers.
Mr. Atwood yelled over the din. "Next take. Jess, you'll tend to Mr. Jonas. When the cry to arms sounds, head for the door and look alert. The trackers are closing in. Everyone, get ready!."
The actors hurried to their assigned posts. Ethlyne knelt beside the 'injured' miner, Mr. Jonas, and summoned her most concerned expression. Lighting and hovercams drifted around them.
"Ready, take one," Atwood said through his megaphone. "Roll in five...action!"
The cams buzzed. A tempest of bombings and shrapnel unfurled. Ethlyne tied a rag around the false wound on on Mr. Jonas' forehead. Wincing, face contorted he seized her hand. Bullets sprayed the walls.
The other miners rushed to the crumbled windows.
"The trackers," a man bellowed. "Everyone to arms."
Ethlyne stroked Mr. Jonas' face. "Take it easy, now. We'll get you out of here." Taking her cue, she dashed to the door, flattened herself against it, and peered out.
Mr. Jonas coughed and tried to sit upright. "No, Jess..." He wheezed. "Get out while you can. I'm done for."
An explosion rocked the building. The actors cursed and stumbled. Jess was supposed to sweep across the doorway and toss a grenade at the tracker patrol, a move Ethlyne had rehearsed many times, but her foot caught on stray rubble. She tumbled face-first and uttered a swear word not found in the script. Pain shot through her jaw. Sputtering, she wiped a trickle of blood from her chin.
"Damn it. Cut!" Mr. Atwood hollered. "Miss Mayweather, what in hell was that stunt?"
Ethlyne staggered upright, leaning against the wall. "An accident. I'm sorry, sir."
"Accident, my ass." Atwood barreled toward her, shaking a finger. "Your performance has been sub-par all afternoon. No gusto. Unfocused. You've been playing with your lover too much lately and not concentrating on your role. Get yourself together if you want to continue working in this industry."
Ethlyne threw her shoulders back. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me. I'm tired of your attitude. Ditch that fair-weather chump and do your job."
"How dare...you have no right to say that. What I do in my spare time is none of your business."
"It's my business when you sabotage my film." He grabbed her by her tattered shirt and yanked her off balance.
She clawed at his fist. "Let go!"
An arm shot between them. Mr. Jonas seized Atwood's wrist. "Enough. Back off her."
Atwood scoffed. "You have the gall?" His voice dwindled as the other miners, a circle of brawny men and dour-faced women, surrounded him.
"Show Miss Mayweather some respect," Mr. Jonas said, "or you'll have us to deal with."
Atwood dropped his arm and stepped back, adjusting his jacket. "Damn you all. I ought to fire you here and now."
Another miner took a long drag off her atomizer. "Heh. Treat Miss Mayweather and the rest of us fair, or we'll quit. See how you like finding new actors near the end of your project."
Ethlyne moved closer to the miners. "Let's try again, Mr. Atwood. I promise I won't jinx things this time."
Atwood grumbled and walked back to his post. He dabbed sweat from his face with a handkerchief. "Take two in ten minutes. From the beginning. Everyone, freshen up."
A welcome break. The make-up staff tended Ethlyne's injury, remarking how the bruise actually added to the character. She agreed with feigned amusement. Her temper still boiled at Atwood's outburst, his insult. What nerve.
Mr. Jonas patted Ethlyne on the arm. "Hey. You okay, pretty lady?"
"I'll be alright. It's...the boss."
Jonas threw a harsh side glance at Atwood. "Mhm. That bastard sounded like the old Kaezer just now, spouting off tyranny. Keep your chin up. You're an inspiration for us."
"Really? In what way?"
"Standing up to Atwood like you did. Bringing us miners some dignity through your role. Your man is a hero, too, though he might not realize it."
She blinked. "You mean Castor?"
"Yup. A true philanthropist. Been an advocate for miners' rights ever since he moved here. He came from Luna several years ago, assigned here for Everblue. A Moon-brat by birth, but we've long since adopted him as a Martian. And now, there's you." Jonas smiled. "We'll stand with you both."
Jonas' words uplifted her. When the botched scene was finished to Atwood's fleeting satisfaction, the cast continued into the next segment.
In this shot, the tracker patrol met Jess' grenade. A mounted unit blown down by the orphan rebel girl, with only a single horse surviving the attack. This was to be Ginger's star moment.
A uniformed handler led the horse in. Ginger whinnied, pawed the ground, skittish of the crowd and the noise. Only when Ethlyne took the reins did the animal calm down.
"Easy, girl. It's time to show 'em what we're made of," she whispered.
Ginger snorted and nudged Ethlyne with her nose.
Atwood called for action. The cams floated into position. Closing her eyes, Ethlyne projected every emotion and thought into Jess. The coup of an ordinary person against extraordinary odds. Her life, her art.
The miners rallied around her. They hoisted banners of torn cloth and rioted through the streets of the makeshift colony.
Jess mounted Ginger as the horse pranced and whinnied before the throng.
"This is our day" she cried. She lifted a hand, and her comrades roared. Gunshots fired into the air. "A day of liberty. The so-called rulers of Mars will kneel."
Without urging, Ginger reared onto her hind legs. The miners chanted Jess' name. A warrioress for their cause. A symbol of freedom, immortalized within the humming lenses of the hovercams. Atwood called for a wrap, and even he flashed a broad grin. "That was perfect. Let's pick it up tomorrow."
Ethlyne rode Ginger back to her trailer and was overjoyed to find Castor waiting there. She slid from the saddle and into his embrace. "I wish you'd seen that last take, darling. It was incredible. I've never felt so strong. And Ginger..."
"I did see it." Castor kissed her. "I watched from the sidelines. Truly magnificent. This film will be an epic for generations, bringing Mars into the limelight as never before." He brushed his fingertips over her injured face. "Are you okay after that fall?"
She smirked and fluttered her lashes. "Better than ever. Might say I took one for Mars today."
Castor laughed. "You libertine. You've vanquished me, no doubt."
They shared another kiss, interrupted only when Ginger's handler came to lead the horse back to the corral.
"Will you stay for dinner?" She twined her fingers around his neck.
"I'd love to. I'm here for another reason, though. May we talk in private?"
"Okay." She took his hand and led him to the door. "Let's go inside."
After she'd ordered delivery from the dining station, she sat with Castor at the table.
"What I'm about to tell you must be kept between us," he said. "It'll bring a slew of trouble if the wrong ears catch tell."
"Of course, darling."
He leaned closer. "One of my teams has discovered undeniable water readings in the Utopia Planitia sector. An expansive find. This may be the ancient ocean I've hunted for."
Ethlyne gasped. "Truly? I'm so happy for you!"
His smile was a tense line. "That's the good news. The bad is that I must leave for Luna immediately and inform my brother. I dread the very thought of telling him. Most of all, I don't want to leave you. Your film is nearly finished, right? You'll be heading home for Earth, and...well. You see the sad truth, I'm sure."
Ethlyne looked away. "So, we won't be seeing each other for a while."
"I'm sorry it must come to this." His brow furrowed. "I'll try to return before you leave, but I'm not certain how Silas will react to this information. How long he might delay me. He's been unstable these past few years. Ever since our father died. Several months ago, he and I had a falling out. A climbing trip we took together here on Mars went downhill. Literally. Let's just say he threatened my life if I didn't cooperate with his obsessive power-mongering."
"What? Your brother threatened to kill you?"
Castor dipped his head once in a somber nod. "He excused it later as a breakdown, a mere bout of his...condition. It's hard to explain. But he forgets that I know him better than he knows himself sometimes."
She took a deep breath. "Must you really tell Silas now? Can't you keep it a secret until you know he'll support your decisions?"
He lowered his eyes and sighed. "No. He'll find out either way, trust me. And if he discovers I've hidden it from him, the consequences will be far worse."
"I see." She reached for his hand. "This means we may only have tonight."
His lifted her fingers to his lips. "I'd like to make it worthwhile."
A knock sounded at the door, followed by a perky chime. Two custodian units delivered Ethlyne's order right on schedule. Castor opened a bottle of wine and poured two generous glasses. After they'd eaten, they curled onto the sofa to watch holo-vision.
His lips traced the tip of her ear, feather-light, and he forged a path of kisses down her neck.
She ran her hands along his chest, lower, and toyed with the end of his belt.
With a hushed sigh, he leaned back on the sofa.
She gave him a playful smile, slipped the belt buckle free, and loosened the buttons of his trousers.
"You're so beautiful." He trembled, fingers twisted in her hair, his eyelids heavy.
Her senses reeled as she bent before him. No sorrow, no regret. Only Castor.
The world faded to a distant neverwhere. Hands eager, hearts racing, they wrestled out of their clothing. He carried her to the small bed at the back of her trailer.
"I've only slept here alone." She giggled. "Until now."
He grinned and stretched out beside her, every gorgeous part of him irresistible. "I'll be at your side any time you wish. Just call me." Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her.
The last of her walls fell, and she welcomed him with open limbs. Skin to skin, a latent savagery unleashed. Nails like talons, small bites at his neck and shoulder, she urged him deeper, harder. Every thrust and kiss pushed her to oblivion. Time, care, all far away. Only happiness. What she'd always yearned for.
Home.
When all was spent, they slept in a tangle of blankets, bodies entwined until dawn shattered through the blinds.
***
The following sols dragged by. Castor had reached Luna safely, and he called Ethlyne every evening. He assured her all was fine so far, but she wondered how the revelation of the ice motherlode would affect Silas Blane. Would Everblue's formidable CEO agree to share such a discovery with the worlds, or would he privatize it under the claim of safeguarding all water from contamination?
Castor reminded her to keep the secret until further notice. She was alarmed, but she agreed. Surely, he knew best how to handle his brother.
A week after Castor's departure, Ethlyne concentrated on her work and tried not to dwell on how much she missed him. Atwood commended her devotion and improved performance, though she didn't care for the director's praise anymore. She only wanted to finish the damn movie, fulfill her contract, and enjoy more time with Castor when he returned.
If he came back before she left Mars.
Once, she'd longed for Earth and her simple, solitary life. Now, with love so firmly planted in her heart, she was torn. She adored her country villa and her animals, but the dilemma of distance and commitment haunted her. Possibilities whirled as to how she might bring all the separate pieces of her life together, what the future might hold if she moved to Secundis. Her animals would adapt with proper care and vet supplements. If Castor could tolerate a small zoo, she fancied the Red World as a promising new home.
The last filming session was completed at week's end, and the crew prepared to leave for the homeworld. Vehicles of all kinds came and went from the set. Robotic drones and human laborers alike hustled about with armloads of supplies. Everything was collapsed, loaded into the film company's transports, and readied for the trip home.
Still no word of Castor's return. Ethlyne spent hours with Ginger, riding through one of the nearby parks, sharing time with her friend while she could. Ginger belonged to the producer and wouldn't be joining them on the flight to Earth. Atwood hadn't mentioned what would become of the horse afterward.
Two sols before they were scheduled to depart, she wandered to the corral. Ginger was nowhere to be found. She searched and asked around the set and learned Mr. Atwood had led the horse away.
Her gut sank. She bolted across the grounds to the director's trailer. When she arrived, she found a large utility van parked there. Atwood stood beside it, talking to a uniformed man. Another man in white coveralls led Ginger up the vehicle's steel ramp. The traipse of hooves against metal echoed into Ethlyne's heart.
At the top, the horse balked.
"C'mon, nag," the handler said, tugging at the lead rope.
Ginger laid her ears flat and planted her feet.
"Wait!" Ethlyne sprinted toward them. "Where are you taking her?"
Atwood's jaw dropped as she approached.
The handler pointed to the logo on the side of the vehicle. Brash letters spelled out the company's name: 'U-Genic Redux'. "Recycling plant. Once the client's done with the animal, they go back into the feeding trough. Standard procedure for these gen-gineered beasts."
"What? You can't kill her." She raised clasped hands to Mr. Atwood. "Please, don't do this."
Mr. Atwood shrugged. "We're finished with Ginger. And, unfortunately, she wouldn't do well on Earth. We can't take her with us. I'm sorry, Miss Mayweather. I know how much you love animals, but it's the producer's orders."
Her tears welled. "There must be a way."
"If you want the horse, buy her," the other Redux man said. "Three hundred thousand credits, and she's all yours."
She covered a sob. Couldn't afford such a sum, but she'd do anything to save Ginger. She laid a hand on the horse's withers. "May I at least say goodbye?"
"Go ahead, ma'am." The handler gave her the lead rope and walked away to the transport cab.
Atwood and the other recycler discussed the return of the rental deposit, cold and removed. Only money mattered to them. No concern at all for the innocent life before them.
Ginger swiveled her head to see Ethlyne, dark eyes guileless through a tangled forelock, ignorant of her impending doom.
Ethlyne threw her arms around the horse's neck. "I'm so sorry. You've been a good friend. Such a..."
Instinct struck her like the peal of a gong. This was wrong. Couldn't happen. Before anyone could stop her, Ethlyne grabbed hold of Ginger's mane and climbed onto the mare's back. Swift, single-minded, as Jess would have done.
"Hey, get off there!" The Redux men stormed toward her.
Ginger danced, flung her head, eyes whitened.
"What in hell are you doing?" Atwood shouted.
Ethlyne ignored them and dug her heels into Ginger's sides. Bareback, only a lead for a rein, she spurred the horse away from the set, down the adjoining thoroughfare, and into the industrial zone of Secundis. Hooves clattered over concrete and steel. She knotted her fingers in Ginger's mane and didn't look back.
Where are you going, you idiot? You can't hide. She stifled her rational thoughts.
Ginger galloped faster, slid around a corner, and tore down an alleyway. Sirens wailed behind, drawing closer.
Stalwart as she was, Ginger couldn't run forever. Her nostrils flared, muscles surged, sweat frothing over her coat. The austere fronts of warehouses, foundries, and tenements seemed impossibly tall, even disapproving as Ginger bolted past them.
Anger a dull numbness in her gut, Ethlyne pulled Ginger to a walk.
Secundis was a self-contained world, a glass box. A prison at this moment. There was nowhere to escape. Trapped. She'd made a rash mistake. All she could do was face the aftermath.
"Halt, citizen." An electronic voice admonished her from above. "You are in violation of colonial penal code 14. Theft of private property, trespassing, disorderly conduct. Stand and desist." Harsh spotlights fell over her. The whoosh of lev generators and many rotors descended. A fleet of hovering Admin sentry units surrounded, their stunners aimed.
Soon after, ground vehicles arrived in a maelstrom of flashing lights and sirens. The enforcers rushed out and formed a perimeter.
To Ethlyne's dismay, the Redux van rolled in, and Atwood emerged with the recyclers.
"Dismount and put your hands in the air," an enforcer shouted.
As Ethlyne was about to obey, her wristcom chimed with the notification of a call. The cheerful ringtone was unmistakable. Castor. She slid off the horse's back and smirked at the timing. Before she threw her hands up, she switched her holo-display on.
Castor's worried face appeared in blue and silver mini-glow above her sleeve. "Ethlyne, what in the worlds is happening there? The Net's insane with news that you're on the run from the Admin."
She glanced up at the holographic visage of her lover, held so pathetically above her head. Her laughter might have been taken for a madwoman. "Can you see my oppressors from such an angle, darling? They want to euthanize Ginger. And I won't allow it. Unfortunately, I'm now public enemy number one for rescuing her."
Castor's features lined in rage. "We'll see about this. Officers, I know you hear me. I demand a chance to reconcile this situation."
The enforcers glanced at each other, then lowered their stunners.
As the call disconnected, Ethlyne's holo-display fell dark and silent. A few minutes later, another call beeped on an enforcer's com device.
"It's the Commander." He answered the call with a bewildered scowl. "Captain Demirvic of Patrol 7."
A staunch, mustached gentleman wearing a peaked cap and shiny badge appeared on hologram. "Captain, release the lady and her equine companion. All charges are cleared."
Atwood shoved his way forward. "Not a chance. Miss Mayweather made off with the property of Paragon Studios. My employer demands compensation."
One of the recyclers checked his wristcom and raised an eyebrow. "Fulfilled, sir. Message from the boss says the horse has been purchased by Mr. Castor Blane. The registered owner is now Miss Ethlyne Mayweather."
"Well, then." The Captain acknowledged his Commander and waved to his subordinates. "Everyone, return to duty. Miss Mayweather and the horse are free to go."
While Atwood gaped, the Admin enforcers and sentry units retreated. The Redux men climbed into their van and left Atwood alone with Ethlyne and Ginger.
She swaggered toward the director. "I hope you learned something. Treat others with kindness and it comes back to you."
Atwood adjusted his tie and sniffed. "All I've learned is how privilege twists the strings. It must be nice to have such well-heeled friends."
"You don't know my friends." Ethlyne climbed onto Ginger's back. "Looks like you'd better call a taxi. Redux left without you. It's a long walk back, and my horse is too tired to carry you." She cued Ginger to a walk, headed away. As far away from Atwood as she could get. "Jess of the Red World" would be her last film for that cad, if she had any say in it. She hoped her agent would agree when he heard about this director's indecencies.
A few blocks away from the set, she called Castor on her wristcom.
He answered right away.
"Thank you for everything," she said. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."
"You don't have to repay me, Ethlyne. I didn't do this as a monetary favor."
"But you've done so much for me. I wish I could do the same for you."
"No need. When something's wrong, we must do whatever it takes to make it right."
She smiled. "We think so much alike, don't we?"
"Yes," he said. "We do."
"Ginger needs to stay on Mars. I'm not sure how I'll keep her here, but I'll try to set something up."
"Have no fear. I'll ensure she's kept in the finest of conditions. You can visit anytime you like. Ginger and I will be waiting for you."
"Thank you. Again." Tears stung her eyes. "I leave in two sols. I guess I won't see you before..."
He interjected with a grin. "Actually. I'm on a flight to Mars as we speak. I'll be home by tomorrow evening, Secundis time."
"Really?" She took a deep breath. "But, your brother? How are things?"
"I worked a plan out with Silas faster than I expected. He's uncertain about how Everblue should approach the discovery, but he's calm. For now. A little too calm for my peace of mind. At least he let me come home. Sometimes he'll assign me fringe jobs all over the system while he broods about big shake-ups like this. Whatever he decides, I'll deal with it when it comes."
She nodded, a silent agreement.
Everyone in the solar system knew the name of Silas Blane. Chairman and commercial spokesman of Everblue, he was the company's charming face before the cameras. Always presenting himself as humanity's loyal water steward. It was hard to imagine such a well-known personality as a despot, but she believed Castor.
"Must you leave with the film crew?" Castor asked. "If you want to stay longer, I can arrange for your lodging here."
She looked away from the cam. "I must. There's post-filming work to do. Media appearances, signings, the like. And my farm needs some tending, too. But, afterward, the first chance I get, I'll come back."
"You're always welcome." He paused. "To stay with me. I have a condo on the upper ridge. Enough room for two, plus some animal pals. In fact, I have space for a stable out on my terrace. How about I bring Ginger up there in the morning? I'll order the proper facilities for her tomorrow."
"Yes, please. To all of it." She blew him a kiss. "We'll still have tomorrow evening. Providing you don't have any shuttle delays."
"Unless my pilots commit mutiny against me, my shuttle will fly straight and true." He grinned. "Goodbye for now, my love."
"Goodbye...."
My love. Those sweet words. She smiled to herself. Had her good ship finally come in, after all the bitter oceans she'd sailed?
She ended the call right as Ginger paced onto the set grounds.
Outside her trailer, Ethlyne hobbled the horse and provided enough hay and water for the night. Ginger was safe at last, and Castor would be home within hours. She could hardly sleep for excitement.
Funny—she wanted to be a Martian now. Never dreamed she'd fall for one, or that she'd grow so fond of the Red World itself, but it was true. Love was an unpredictable beacon, guiding hearts down crooked side streets to bliss. The only way to keep it was to leap and take a chance.
***
Her eyes brightened like the sun after a dust storm. She leaned over the rails to watch her horse trot and frolic around the new corral. When she smiled over her shoulder at me, my heart nearly soared.
"Ginger likes it here," Ethlyne said.
I wrapped her in my arms. "This is her home, for as long as she...as long as you want it to be."
For our farewell evening, I took her to our favorite restaurant, a swanky lounge on the north end of Secundis. I reserved a private booth overlooking the stage, where a premiere jazz singer from Earth sang in a haunted, smoky voice. Among the chiseled beams and arched doorways, the accents of streamlined chrome, the club swam with conversation and the myriad sparkling reflections of the mirror ball high above. The trumpet soloist caressed our ears with his muted warble, low and sensuous, while an upright bass and fan-brushed drums drifted in sultry rhythm.
I stood from the table and reached for Ethlyne's hand. A woman any man would fight for. Strong, but with the truest, kindest soul. I counted myself the luckiest fool alive.
"Would you care to dance?" I asked.
She grinned. "Of course."
We glided over the dance floor. Those curves pressed against me, her gaze bound to mine. I couldn't take my eyes from her. Pale-gold waves of hair framed her face, silver-drop earrings agleam, her lips curled to temptation. I'd cross the very stars to hold her like this forever.
Our impending separation, the demands of our jobs, and my brother's volatile games all seeped away. This brief time we'd shared was a taste of the paradise to come.
We returned to my condo afterward, giddy on wine and anticipation. Once inside, alone at last, I closed the door. She grabbed my jacket and pulled me toward her, her back to the wall. Her smile beckoned, fingers delicate as she slipped the thin straps of her cocktail gown down her shoulders.
All restraint broke. I pinned her with my need, wandered her skin with my lips and tongue. Her hushed moan, fingers demanding along my back, threw me to oblivion. Starved, shameless, I slid my hands up her thighs and lifted her dress.
We made love more than once as the night wore on. In the morning, when her eyelids fluttered open and she lay disheveled upon my chest, I whispered the truth, the only words I could. "I love you, Ethlyne Mayweather."
Our goodbye at the spaceport was but a sea change unraveling before us. I gave her a single rosebud, a rust-petaled hybrid only grown on Mars.
"I'll come home soon," she whispered.
"And I'll count the sols until you do."
As the fusion engines of the Earth-bound shuttle charged on the launch strip, readying to carry her away, we sealed the promise with a kiss.