Invasion

INVASION

DAN BROWN

Copyright © 2018 DAN BROWN

Chapter 1

Seal Rutherford stood behind Transmissions Officer Olata Russell with his arms crossed. He gazed out the main window of the control tower of the massive lunar colony of Aranula toward the Earth—what the meteors had left anyway. A gray and white cloud mixture formed a dull skin around the atmosphere. History said that the Earth had been a beautiful world. He found it hard to believe Earth had ever been as magnificent as Mars, which was alive again after eons of stagnation.

The setting sun edged behind the darkening Earth, dimming Earth’s moon with a crawling shadow.

His day was over. An hour ago, the mining shifts ended for the day, emptying the corridors within Aranula. As usual, Aranula’s command tower, which had served as a sentinel above the Earth for the last two hundred years, went silent.

In hangar bay five, three stories down, his ship, the Protector, rested, waiting for a meteor to strike. Well, he conceded, the ship wasn’t technically his ship. As head mechanic aboard the light freighter, he'd developed an intimate attachment to the starship that he'd never come close to achieving with a woman. He loved a machine. An odd circumstance, which he accepted after plenty of debate with himself and others.

Out of the corner of his blue eyes, a streak, long and narrow, darted across the sky into his view.

What's that, Olata? He brushed back the dirty blond hair from his eyes.

Don’t know, Olata tapped on the keyboard.

Initially, the streak appeared to be a standard meteor, but the tracking system would've picked up the movement hours before, and no indications of activity had come from Meteor Control. Seal focused on it, leaning in for a closer view. The realization didn’t materialize, and his concentration lapsed.

Sir, come here for a moment, Seal said to the chief, who was lingering idly on the other side of the command tower. If anyone knew, the chief would.

Against the fleeting light let in by the setting sun, dimmed and cascading over the upper half of his rough face, agitation wore across the man. Chief Ty Moolaf was an icon of the Revolutionary War, which had ended ten years ago. He had chosen to live out his remaining years on Aranula. Thin bands of gray lined the side of his head like wisps of cobwebs spun on his life. Chief Moolaf embodied Aranula—a Protector, a fighter, and a survivor.

The chief moved with hurried steps, his eyes trained on Seal. Don’t shout across the command tower, Mr. Rutherford.

Sorry, sir. Seal swallowed hard.

What do you want to show me?

Seal pointed at the screen. Sir, an anomalous reading is coming earthward.

The chief leaned in to view the screen. An incoming ship? He let out a long drawn-out sigh.

Sir, it might be a meteor, but that means the net missed the break.

The net is too sensitive to miss anything, the chief said.

An alert beep trilled. Seal straightened his body and glanced down at the viewscreen. He recognized the readout instantly as a transponder beacon identifying the object as a vessel.

Olata scanned the cargo transport manifest. Sir, no scheduled arrivals for three days.

Not surprising, Seal thought. The freighter bays were occupied, and unless ordered to do so, no one visited a mining colony like Aranula.

Check the passenger transports, the chief said.

Olata scanned his fingers along the transport manifest. Sir, I have one ship scheduled to arrive today.

When?

Later, sometime tonight. I wonder if they are early.

Tension pinched at Seal’s temples. If this is the ship, they should've advised us of a course correction. Unless it is a priority Martian shuttle.

Mars Central routinely disrupted the tranquil habits of the colony with bureaucratic reviews, and Seal didn’t want to listen to all the complaining. His brow furrowed as he thought about other possibilities. He refocused toward the blue streak, finding it already discernibly larger.

Olata adjusted the tracker on his viewscreen, which zoomed to a clean image of the vessel, revealing the shuttle’s dented hull and the wing’s rusted fringes.

They don’t make ships like that anymore, Seal muttered.

Mr. Rutherford? the chief said.

Seems to me from the rigid winged frame to be a second-generation Martian starship. Seal rubbed his forehead. But older ships don’t generally travel out this far, not without plasma shielding.

Good eye, the chief replied. We missed the signal because our long-range trackers look for the shielding signatures.

Sir, those've always been unreliable. Especially with the advent of the modulation correctors.

The chief laughed. Mars has been more unreliable in upgrading Aranula. Our scanners rely on the shielding for initial detection.

Understood.

Olata, the chief said, key the ship’s code into the computer. I want to know who this is.

Olata keyed the ship’s characteristics into the database query, and moments later the terminal spit back the shuttle’s class, confirming Seal’s suspicion that the ship was from the second generation of starships.

Sir, Olata said, it isn’t a type that comes to Aranula very often.

If ever, the chief replied.

Olata scanned the manifest once again. The owner isn’t on the list, nor is any of the standard transponder information. He paused for a second. I have the name. One sec.

Tell me as soon as you have it, the chief said.

With a twist of the dial, Olata’s terminal scanned the communication frequencies for the shuttle.

Seal leaned in for a close look, and Olata, always helpful, tapped on the control panel to activate the speaker. Static buzzed and hissed until Olata found the correct frequency.

A rough transmission finally crackled through. "Aranula Colony, this is the Mars Medical shuttle, Guardian. Requesting clearance to land. Shuttle to Aranula, do you copy?"

The chief tensed.

Seal guessed his suspicions. Mars Medical had arrived early, which meant Brad and Lucy were in a bigger mess than they had anticipated. Brad and Lucy, though only five years younger than his thirty years, weren’t as versed in the affairs of Mars as he was, and they weren’t taking this intrusion into their lives seriously. They could blast a meteor better than anyone else in the solar system, but when it came to the politics of Mars and the rights of people, they didn’t know a Martian dune from a chasma. Since Mars Medical first contacted them a few weeks ago, he'd made it a point to keep an eye out for them, and he had, yet the situation hadn’t been as urgent as it was now . . . with Mars Medical on their doorstep.

Seal tilted his thin face slightly and rubbed the light stubble on his cheeks. What do you think, Chief?

The chief ignored him, and Seal thought better of asking him again. There was a determination in the chief’s eyes that Seal hadn’t seen before.

Aranula, transmitting now, the voice over the radio said.

The terminal flashed and began to verify the ship’s credentials. The initial code showed that the ship had submitted a schedule to arrive later that evening. "One moment Guardian, the computer is calling up the information."

What's the shuttle’s digital designation? the chief asked.

Sir, Olata said, "the flight manifest lists them correctly as the Guardian, and their code checks out. Where should I instruct them to dock?"

I see . . . let’s find out why they're so eager. The chief took the mike from Olata and placed it to his mouth. "Guardian, this is Chief Administrator Ty Moolaf. Why have you arrived ahead of schedule? Your flight plan should've put you here twelve hours from now."

A passenger on board demanded we increase our velocity, the voice replied. He used his authority to speed us along, too.

I understand, the chief said. A look of dread passed over him. With that one look, he expressed his worry about the shuttle’s purpose.

Seal’s stomach dropped and he pulled in his lean, six-foot-three frame to catch it.

The chief swallowed. "Guardian, we're not prepared for your arrival. You should've updated your flight manifest with all course changes during your trip. Prepare to hold outside of Aranula until we're ready for you."

I read you, Aranula, the voice replied. What's our ETA for docking?

Six hours at the earliest. Our hangars are full with freight repair shuttles for the ore transfer. After they leave for Mars, I’ll grant you clearance.

Unacceptable, a new voice boomed out the receiver. This is Dr. Hans Brandt of Mars Medical. You’ll prepare for our docking immediately.

In spite of Seal’s best attempt to remain quiet and let the chief handle the shuttle, he groaned discernibly. Mars Medical advertised itself as the leading Martian governmental agency for protecting the public health and safety of the Martian people. In actuality, it had a reputation for bullying, both on Mars and in distant stations and colonies. Travelers through Aranula spun tales of violations of the Principles of Man. About every six months, the holonews reported Mars Medical’s brutality in attaining its goals: detentions, torturous medical tests, and a litany of other things. The justification was always the safety of the population, and that excuse seemed to be accepted in the inquiries from Mars Central. Seal, however, never bought the excuses. The travelers who told their stories were too visibly shaken to exaggerate what had happened to them.

"Guardian, our colony isn’t prepared for you, the chief replied. We've flight plans for a reason."

We expect to land when we arrive, Brandt replied. I’m transmitting our command override from Mars Central.

The chief signaled Olata to mute the transmission to the Guardian.

An odd panic set over Seal. Brandt’s urgency aroused fear for his friends. You can’t let them dock, he told the chief.

Be quiet. Concern stretched along the chief’s face.

Seal bit his lower lip.

The terminal chirped and the clearance-code override materialized on the screen.

"Sir, the Mars Medical ship Guardian arrived ahead of schedule," said Commander Cody Andersen, who had appeared behind Seal. Seal and the chief both turned as the second-in-command of Aranula and head of communications quickened his step in his heavy boots. He came over to them.

Yes, Cody. We're talking now, the chief replied. Any ideas? They're already flexing their muscles.

I— Andersen began.

You can’t let them bully their way on and violate Brad and Lucy’s privacy, Seal said with enough force to sour the chief.

Mr. Rutherford, this is my command tower. What're you doing here?

I used my clearance, Seal said, cursing himself for such a weak reply. Truth be told, he wanted to be on the tower when Mars Medical arrived and had come to tell Olata to warn him when they arrived. He, along with the rest, hadn't expected Mars Medical to arrive so fast.

Andersen shook his head. Sir, if I may, they're passing all the right codes to stop our delays. We should deal with them within the colony.

Yes, of course, the chief replied. Stalling is our best option. Brad and Lucy will remain safe for a little while longer. He smiled sluggishly. The bureaucratic wheel will churn them around and around.

Excellent, sir, Andersen said. I’ll prepare a reception area.

Good idea.

Aranula Colony, let us land immediately, Brandt’s voice screeched over the radio.

Please, Chief, Seal said, we can’t let them on the station. What they're doing to Brad and Lucy isn’t legally justified.

Mr. Rutherford, get off the command tower immediately, the chief said. He turned toward Olata. Unmute it, Lieutenant.

Yes, sir, Olata replied.

Seal bristled. He wasn’t about to leave until he heard the outcome. For the Martian government to strong-arm the chief unsettled him. Chief Moolaf had always been the absolute leader on Aranula and an advocate for Aranulan rights on Mars. Seal guessed that the intrusion had upset the chief more than he let on. Adding to Seal’s uneasiness was the chief’s comment about Brad and Lucy. Ever since the chief found them as stowaways fifteen years ago, he and his wife, Jan, had been their Guardians. If Mars was threatening them, Seal had no doubt the chief would react with more than bureaucratic nonsense and receptions.

Seal took a few steps back but stayed within earshot.

Our systems are processing your request, the chief said to Brandt.

We’ll be docking when we arrive, Brandt replied, quicker and sterner than they expected. His frustration was clearly audible over the crackling transmission. Did you receive our clearance code from Mars Central?

I see it, but you don’t carry much weight with me. I run Aranula and the freighters carrying the meteor stones are a lot more important than an overzealous doctor. You’ll hold in high orbit around Aranula until we call for you.

Don’t be a fool, Moolaf. The clearance code, signed by Minister Castor, gives me authority, and don’t be so sure he doesn’t value me over a few meteor stones.

Seal couldn’t see the terminal from his spot, but he saw the chief look down with apprehension and pause for an agonizing few seconds.

With a sigh, the chief thrust the mike back to Olata and walked away.

Seal felt curious. On the terminal next to Olata, he called up the clearance code details and found the imprint of the minister’s signature on the end. The minister! You couldn’t get higher clearance than the leader of Siptheas. Why was Mars Medical so obsessed with his friends?

"Guardian, Olata said, I’m transmitting the docking-bay coordinates now."

Andersen eyed Seal. You're supposed to be off the tower.

Seal stepped up to Andersen. Defiance rippled from his tense shoulders and quick strides. Sir, I don’t like how they overrode the flight plan . . . and the chief dreads their arrival. Why didn’t he inform operations? He cocked one eye toward Andersen, hoping to pry into his mind.

Chief Moolaf did warn me about this transport. He wouldn’t tell me the importance of why he wanted to know when the shuttle arrived. Andersen hesitated before continuing. "But he did exchange heated words with someone on Mars a few weeks ago. He came to my station afterwards and ordered a full update on this ship’s arrival. I was going to handle the Guardian ahead of time, but they arrived sooner than we expected."

Why're they here so early?

I don’t understand, either. The chief wants me to stall on the station, but did you hear how he attempted to halt them in orbit again?

Yes, Seal admitted, he seemed panicked by their arrival.

Chief Moolaf doesn’t panic, Andersen said. At least, I've never seen it.

Seal followed Andersen’s eyes out toward the shuttle that was lumbering around the towers of Aranula. The older ship banked away from the communications tower and the floodlights beamed off the hull, reflecting the Mars Medical logo.

Sir, he said. If the chief doesn’t like it, I don’t like it.

Me either. Andersen could barely get the words out.

Chapter 2

Starwing pilot Brad Smith cursed under his breath as he wrenched the last stubborn bolt into place on the xenon-flow valve attached to the Protector's Ion engine. A sharp pain pulsed through his muscular hand as blood spilled from his finger onto the starship below.

The Protector loomed large beneath his feet, approximately a hundred meters long, docked in hangar bay five. The belly of the ship held a massive expandable cavity for transporting meteor stones, the highest-valued resource in the solar system. The most spectacular sight to behold was the enormous twin Ion engines mounted to the rear, which were capable of achieving the fastest speeds in the solar system.

The wonders of the Protector mattered little to Brad when compared to the pair of starwings attached to the top of the hull, like tethered remoras on a shark. The starwings were the only two ships of their kind in existence. A mixture of a precision bomber and a speed fighter, the bow-winged craft delivered charges into the heart of Earth-bound meteors at breakneck speeds. To Brad, no thrill equaled flying within a hair of a tumbling meteor.

His finger stung as the blood oozed out of the fresh wound. In a weird way, he welcomed the pain. Anything that got his mind off the agonizing thoughts was a blessing.

Mars Medical’s hastily scheduled visit had distracted his concentration all day, and now the distraction had cost him a good chunk of his finger. Their sudden notice worried him. No one from Mars Medical ever came to Aranula to oversee routine physicals. The troubling part of the report stated that Dr. Hans Brandt, the acclaimed bioengineer, was coming to do the tests. A doctor of his caliber was fit to run the physical, but why would he come all this way to run a simple test?

Brad thought he knew why, too. His and Lucy’s abilities, especially his strength, were a part of a myth growing among the miners on Aranula. He hadn’t outright told anyone that he had abilities, but somehow everyone knew. He did his best to keep Lucy away from the rumors. She was far too sensitive to the minds around her to live with negative thoughts, but how could she ignore Mars Medical’s intrusion into their lives? And even worse, how could he protect her? It angered him that Mars Medical had come so close and created such a buzz among his friends.

Blood cooled in the palm of his hand. He reached into his back pocket for his grease rag to stop the flow and pressed it firmly against his skin.

He heard the light, short strides of fellow starwing pilot and longtime girlfriend, Lucy Jones, patter toward him from the side of the ship. Her beautiful face, with her high cheekbones and pouting lips, enchanted him.

She ducked under the engine mount, trying to find him. She found him a moment later, and her brown eyes softened with a mixture of concern and dread as she studied his hand. Her face tightened into a disapproving scowl, which somehow made him feel loved.

She climbed the service ladder. When she reached him, her amber hair wisped against his cheek, and her intoxicating flowery aroma filled his nose. He savored the fragrance for a moment, like he always did.

Well, she said, her voice firm to get his attention. She stared at him. Are you going to tell me what happened?

I pinched my finger on the darn wrench. I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. He nursed his hand.

Nonsense. I’ll clean you up, she offered. She dashed off to the maintenance lockers and came back with a med kit. She grabbed his hand and he winced.

Hey, where is everyone? a voice shouted from the front of the ship. Hey, where're you guys?

Back here, Seal, Lucy shouted back. Brad jammed his hand, bit of a scrape.

Seal, his best friend, walked up to the two. He pushed back the ever-tattered blond hair from his blue eyes and ran his gaze over to the engine. I finished working on the short circuits in the coils on the starwings. You shouldn’t have a problem with acceleration anymore.

Those coils nearly cost us more than a week’s pay, Brad said as he recalled the last assignment and the near-miss that happened when the coils didn’t activate. The engines had stalled, sending his starwing into a tailspin. The small malfunction almost allowed a meteor to slip away from their pursuit. Did you repair the servomotor on the plasma gun? he asked.

Yes, Seal replied. "These few weeks of inactivity were good for the Protector. I was able to fix most of her problems."

Brad will be all right. Lucy tightened the last of the bandages over his finger. You care more about that ship than you do anything or anyone else.

He’ll heal soon. I don’t know why you insist on fixing his bumps and bruises. He has a gift for healing. But my ship, she can’t be fixed so fast. Seal smirked, but he stopped quickly when she glared at him. Anyways, I came to warn you. Mars Medical is about to dock. You two had better start preparing for them. I know it’s not my business, but the government has no right to invade your privacy like they are doing.

Brad raised his good hand to calm his friend. No need to get him agitated. They had already caused quite a stir with Ty. Mars has been looking out for the people’s interests since the people formed the two governments. I don’t think they’ll find anything. Aranula doctors found no anomalies.

Brad's stomach tightened as he thought about the possibilities. In truth, he had never trusted the government after what they had put him through on Mars as a child. The new Martian governments, Siptheas and Iriephyzia, didn’t seem any better than the revolutionary government. Siptheas, the larger of the two, headed by Minister Castor, was governed from Siptheas Colony, and this was the government that was initiating the physical. Iriephyzia, led by Chancellor Warner, didn’t seem to care about anything other than the metalor shipments he and his crew mined for them. Officially, Iriephyzia was his home colony on Mars, and his pleas for help in this matter had fallen on deaf ears. He admitted, though, that given his distrust of them, he hadn’t tried hard to get their help. Bella had mentioned the close relationship between the two colonies, and he had no doubts that Iriephyzia would acquiesce to Siptheas in such a trivial matter as a physical.

He pushed his fear and uneasiness aside for the moment, wanting to calm his friend. They’ll get the information they want from us and be on their way.

Seal threw his hands into the air. Information? I don’t call blood and plasma samples, and who knows what else, ‘information.’ I call it physical theft. I wouldn’t let them touch me.

The government protects the people. Why panic? I don’t sense any dishonesty since this all began, Lucy said. They're here now anyway. Our contract calls for physicals, so we can’t stop them.

"I don’t care. The Protector isn’t a military ship, so they can’t control you like one of their soldiers. Seal’s voice rose, echoing within the hangar. You can’t let them walk all over you. Obviously, they're taking advantage of something you signed in good faith. Mars Medical’s reputation for—"

Ty didn’t seem concerned when we talked. Brad attempted to cast away his friend’s doubts. Mars Medical scheduled the tests two months ago. He would've mentioned anything he didn’t like.

Seal’s doubts made Brad increasingly uncomfortable. He didn’t need Seal stirring up what he had spent all day suppressing.

Been more than two months, Seal replied. Mars has watched you for a while, or they wouldn’t be sending someone so important from Mars Medical to see you. Remember, they wanted you to travel to Mars. If Ty hadn’t stopped them, you would be going out with the freighters this afternoon.

No, we wouldn’t. I won’t go back to Mars. I would quit first. Brad pushed his fingers through his short brown hair. And the request only stated a physical exam, and those're harmless.

Don’t be so sure about that. Seal snatched a rag from the tool case. His hands jittered as he rubbed scorch marks from the ship’s hull. Just keep your eyes and ears open during these examinations.

A beep trilled. Lucy reached in and pulled out her CommUn. Go ahead, this is Lucy Jones.

Jan here, the familiar voice of Jan Moolaf said. Come to Ty’s briefing room. I want to talk to both of you, now. The Mars Medical shuttle has arrived, and they're in a hurry to get their hands on you. I'm going to hide you in here for a while.

Hide? Lucy said as her face twisted. Why would we want to do that?

Because Mars Medical is throwing their weight around, and Ty doesn’t like it. He wants to show them who is in charge on this station and set some ground rules.

That phrase, Ty doesn’t like it, stirred in Brad’s mind for a moment. Up until now, he'd been unaware of his guardian’s worry about the arrival. Perhaps Ty’s worry justified the fact that he was a little edgy.

I expect you here in five minutes. Jan out.

Seal kept his gaze on Brad, wanting to caution them again.

Brad didn’t need him to say anything. Mars Medical’s arrival was early, and they were demanding to perform their routine physical. The nice package in his mind didn’t add up like he thought it would.

Chapter 3

Iriephyzian diplomat and Protector communications officer Bella Warner, accompanied by the captain of the Protector, Nomean Dalton, and Aranulan chief administrator Ty Moolaf, stood behind the docking bay decompression window, gazing out as they waited for the main doors of the hangar to open. Bella tugged on her uniform, which hung loosely on her body. Her tall, lean-hipped frame had shrunk three sizes since she'd arrived on Aranula, not having the luxury she had enjoyed on Mars.

On Aranula, luxury was surviving the day without a containment breach or a meteor slamming you, and finding enough algae paste to eat. She missed Mars more than she let Lucy and her other friends know. Her father—the chancellor of Iriephyzia Colony—provided her with the power and the opportunity to shape the colony. Iriephyzians loved the Warners. On Aranula, however, she was just another person trying to survive the day. The vacuum of space sucked her nobility away. Now she considered mechanics, pilots, and ore processors her best friends instead of diplomats, liaisons, and colonial leaders. Nonetheless, she enjoyed her new life; the difference added to her adventure.

Bella gazed out the large viewing window, which displayed a brilliant view of the lunar surface, backdropped by the darkened Earth and blinking stars. The landscape teemed with small ground crafts, scurrying like ants, transporting ore from the crater mines toward the colony’s massive mineral silos and processing plants. She'd been on Aranula for two years, and the perpetual busyness of the miners still amazed her. Mars’s hunger for the meteor stones was insatiable.

Suddenly, her eye caught something in front of her, twinkling tiny red and orange specks. The bulkhead had been gray only moments before. She reached out, rubbing along the cool surface. A sting went up her arm, like ice injected into her veins, and she quickly withdrew her arm, which was tingling.

The metal drained the heat from her arm. She peered at the red and orange specks which reflected brighter for only a second or so before reverting to the gray bulkhead she had seen before.

The new element . . . metalor, she whispered to herself.

She placed her hand once more on the metal beam, but nothing happened. No tingling, no cold, nothing.

You don’t feel anything now, correct? Nomean said from over her shoulder.

She started just a bit. Her roughly cut captain was only of average height, but he held a commanding presence over her that not many in the solar system did. Since her childhood, she had been able to see through many people, but her captain impressed her, not only because of his tough, rugged exterior, but also due to his astute, knowledgeable mind. He could lead Aranula, or even a colony on Mars, one day.

Yes, she said. The first time I touched the metal, I got the oddest sensation. Now, nothing.

Happens to everyone. The weirdest thing I've ever seen. He shook his head in disbelief. As if it takes a part of you.

When I heard the rumors, it sounded like nonsense. After massaging her arm, she craned her neck toward her captain. The metalor wanted the heat from my body.

I know. Perhaps that’s why Mars wants us to mine the meteors so bad.

For what purpose?

To solve the mystery of the meteor stones. He smirked.

The shriek of the hangar bay doors interrupted them. They looked through the window at the sight. A whisk of air streaked out of the opening doorway into the vacuum of space. Instantly, the plasma shielding flickered as the power tickled across, sealing the hangar.

The Aranulan aides paced feverishly behind the group, shouting orders at one another, as they put the final preparations on the table display and hung the welcoming banners in the reception hall.

Sir, the young duty officer said to the chief, the beverage tables and crew quarters are prepared for our guests. Would you like anything else?

That'll be all, Ty said. He signaled the officer to fall behind him into formation.

The red-alert lights beamed across her face, and the claxon roared throughout the hangar, warning Bella to brace her arm on the frame of the door. Just as her hand steadied her, the structure shook with the passing of the shuttle into the hangar bay.

The plasma shielding lengthened along the hull, causing a crackling glow of bluish white. Once the back end made it fully inside, the shield flickered again, reverting to a straight seal across the doorway.

The shuttle swung around to position itself over the landing pad, and the Mars Medical insignia loomed in front of them.

Bella held herself steady and erect. Despite her young age of twenty-two, she had experience in dealing with uncomfortable situations. She'd learned from birth about diplomacy and maintaining oneself through emotional circumstance.

Ty Moolaf, on the other hand, born into poverty and brought up in the military, had not. He feared Mars Medical.

Bella noticed Ty’s brow twitched a little. She knew Mars irritated him. She'd spoken with him on many occasions about Aranulan life. For most of his command on Aranula Colony, Mars left him alone, and he liked the quiet life. He always proclaimed it was the reason he took the job. Unfortunately, for him, the scientists on Mars had discovered the new element metalor within the meteors Aranula mined. That discovery gave him an influx of Mars personnel, who audited his work and forced him to fill out more paperwork, which Ty considered bureaucratic nonsense.

Aranula was a freewheeling, no-nonsense colony that didn’t take kindly to government intervention. Bella’s appearance some two years ago had been one of the first signs of Martian rule. She'd tried to coax Ty to the Martian way, but he always resisted. A part of her didn’t blame him.

Through her boots, Bella felt the floor shake as the shuttle hovered over the landing pad. Three sets of flaps opened from the bottom, and the servomotors buzzed as it extended the landing struts into position. The pilot, firing the stabilizing thrusters, touched down on the center of the landing surface.

Behind the rusted wings, the bay doors met with a booming halt, prompting the warning lights to turn from red to yellow. Several technicians scurried to their positions and locked the shuttle’s struts on the pad.

Chief Moolaf, a technician announced over the communications unit. The hangar bay has been pressurized. You’re safe to enter.

Fall into formation. Time to greet our guests, Ty ordered. He tapped the access code on the keypad, and the door slid open.

A rush of the sharp, musky odor of the xenon fuel forced Bella’s nose to cringe. She could never get used to some of the grittier parts of her new position.

In front, the technicians rolled out the carpet, which had been dyed in the traditional Martian dark red. Ty led her, Nomean, and a handful of senior aides to welcome the newcomers.

The shuttle’s plank screeched open and landed squarely on the deck. Simultaneously, the hatchway slid upward, opening the exit. A man and a woman proceeded carefully down. They walked unbalanced, trying to adjust to the lighter artificial gravity of Aranula, and they came to an awkward stop before Ty, Nomean, and Bella.

Bella recognized their insignias as Mars Medical. The man’s frame was small, shorter than the rest of them, and he focused on her. She stared back at the man’s firm jaw line and prominent nose, but she couldn’t help but shift her eyes toward the woman. She was beautiful and sleek, with striking curly locks of blond hair. Both Ty and Nomean pushed themselves up on their toes, trying to match her stature. Neither could.

"Welcome to the Lunar Meteor Processing Colony, Aranula. I'm Chief Administrator Ty Moolaf. This is Nomean Dalton, head of the modest fleet on Aranula and captain of the mining ship, Protector, and Bella Warner, daughter of Iriephyzian chancellor Eddy Warner and our colony’s senior diplomat from Mars.

Additionally for your comfort, our colony is retrofitted with gravity panels. The panels here are older and will play tricks on your balance, and you may become disorientated for the first couple of hours on the colony. This'll pass.

Brandt coughed and rubbed his eyes. I don’t think you configured the sterilization unit to Martian standards. You should check your filters. All I taste is metal.

I apologize for the air quality. The metalor processing facility saturates the colony.

Brandt coughed again and rubbed his hand against his pants. I'm head scientist Dr. Hans Brandt, and this is my assistant, Dr. Akotad Lars. We're looking forward to getting started with our experiments. Lead us to our subjects.

Ty bristled. A laboratory area has been set up for you. I'll let you settle in and offer you beverages so we can discuss your assignment—

No, Brandt demanded. We insist on getting started instantly. Show me my lab and my subjects right away.

Outraged, Bella took a step forward and pointed toward Brandt. Hold on, you'll get no ‘subjects,’ as you put it, until we know why you arrived early. There're diplomatic protocols you must abide by, even if you’re military.

So much for diplomacy, she thought after the words tumbled out.

Miss Warner, this is a Mars Medical mission, not a military mission, and I’m under no obligation to tell you anything. Now, will my subjects be brought to me, or will I be filing a report to Mars Central?

As Bella tightened her fists, Ty came between the two. How about I lead you to the lab? he said calmly. "You can set up the equipment while we straighten all this out. We plan to cooperate fully, but we need answers. I won't bring your subjects until this afternoon at the earliest. You arrived early, and they're on assignment."

Chief Moolaf, I want them as soon as possible. They could pose a problem to Aranula and Mars.

A problem? Bella’s eye twitched. She was beginning to understand Ty’s frustration and worry