A wave of panic hits me. Leave my home? But where would we go? And how would we survive in the Martian wilds?
“I don’t mean to rush you,” Esteban cuts in, “but maybe finish this convo outside the Palace?”
He leads us to the kitchens. A hidden exit. Thank the stars.
Outside, Prax falls into step beside me. I slow down and glance at him.
“What?” he says. “My presence here won’t stay secret for long. I’m not leaving your side until we’re safe.”
We reach my snowbike. He hops on first, then gestures for me to hold on. I don’t even get to ask if he knows how to drive the thing—he’s already gunned it and taken off toward my place, moving much faster than I’m used to, but smooth and confident.
The wind rushes past as my thoughts spiral. Could I have stopped Marjorie? Should I have let them do it? No. But what other choice did we have?
When we finally arrive and dock the snowbike, Kiran rushes out of the house.
“Are you okay? What happened? Did you find anything?”
“Chill, Human. Give us a second,” Prax mutters.
“Sorry, Kitty, for worrying about my twelve-year-old sister going on a spy mission with an alien cat as backup!”
“First of all, I’m a Sadjim, not a damned cat. And your sister isn’t twelve—she’s twenty-five in Polarian years. And if you didn’t want her in danger, you shouldn’t have sent her. I could’ve done this solo. We wouldn’t be on the run right now.”
Kiran blanches and locks eyes with me, hoping I’ll say he’s wrong. I don’t.
We go inside. Prax lays it all out. It’s clear—we have to leave. Soon.
“When will they be back on their feet?” Kiran asks.
“They won’t show tonight. But tomorrow morning, they’ll be good as new,” I say. “Can’t we stay the night and leave at sunrise?”
“Not a chance,” Prax snaps. “We’ll be sleeping outside either way. Good thing I salvaged one sleep cocoon from the Bakartia after you sliced the other one.”
“Only one? Where are you going to sleep, Kitty?” Kiran asks, narrowing his eyes.
“I’ll let you puzzle that one out, Human. But don’t sprain anything thinking too hard,” Prax smirks.
“Enough, both of you!” I cut in. “Great, we’re leaving—but where?”
While we talk, Prax has already packed everything from his ship into his big waterproof bag.
“Let me show you the route,” he says, calmly activating the living room screen. He taps a few commands, and a Martian colony map appears.
“We’re here. Arabia Terra is southeast. But first, we’ll head about thirty miles east of Cydonia’s center. Right here.”
“That’s outside the authorized zone,” Kiran notes.
“Exactly. That’s why I think Vassili’s ‘guests’ land there. They probably use snowbikes to reach the Palace carefully, staying under the radar.”
“Or they use cargo haulers. They’re rare but perfect for big, bulky stuff,” Kiran adds. “But why that spot specifically?”
“Because some of the atmospheric traces lead right there. I’d bet his shady friends park nearby when they come to make deals. I also saw deeper trails near Elysium Planitia—only reachable by air. I don’t know what’s out there, but there have been multiple incursions over the past few Polarian weeks.”
“That region is—”
“Yeah, yeah. Forbidden. I know,” Prax cuts him off. “Time to break out of your comfort zone, kids. Start thinking solar system-wide. Or better yet, galaxy-wide. That’s the scale of the people hunting you.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a moron, Kitty!” Kiran snaps. “We can manage just fine without you.”
