Martin’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And what, exactly, drew you out into a dust storm in the first place? Your field authorization was for routine sample collection within a two-kilometer radius of the settlement. The beacon on your rover placed you nearly fifteen kilometers into the mountains.”
Damn.
She’d known the rover was tracked. She’d just hoped no one would be paying attention to the data during a major storm.Clearly, she’d underestimated Martin’s obsessive attention to her movements.
“I was following an anomalous reading.” The truth, carefully edited. “Something in the seismic data caught my attention. I wanted to investigate.”
“Without filing a deviation report. Without notifying anyone of your intentions. Without following any of the protocols that exist specifically to prevent situations like this.” Martin’s voice had gone silky, dangerous. “Dr. Falkner, if I didn’t know better, I might think you were trying to hide something.”
“What would I be hiding, Dr. Reece?”
The question hung in the air between them. Behind her, she heard Cass’s sharp intake of breath—a warning, or perhaps just surprise at her boldness.
Martin studied her for a long moment, his pale eyes flickering over her face as if searching for cracks in her composure. Then he smiled, and the expression made her stomach turn.
“That’s exactly what I intend to find out.” He moved further into the room, circling around the small space like a predator assessing its prey. “You see, Dr. Falkner, your little unauthorized excursion isn’t the only interesting development I’ve been monitoring. GenCon has been tracking certain… irregularities in the planetary data for several months now.”
Her blood went cold. “GenCon has no authority to monitor research data. Their operational mandate was restricted after the Congressional hearings?—”
“Their official mandate was restricted.” Martin waved a dismissive hand. “But GenCon understands something thatidealistic researchers like yourself seem incapable of grasping. This planet holds secrets worth billions. Trillions, perhaps. And they’re not going to let bureaucratic limitations stand in the way of claiming what’s rightfully theirs.”
“What’s rightfully—” She cut herself off, forcing her voice back under control. “Nothing on this planet belongs to GenCon. Mars is a protected research territory under the?—”
“Mars is whatever GenCon decides it is.” Martin stopped his circling directly in front of her, close enough that his cologne burned her nostrils. “Earth Government’s oversight only extends as far as their enforcement capabilities. Out here, months away from any meaningful intervention, the rules are… flexible.”
He’s working with them.The realization settled into her gut like a stone. She’d suspected it before—the hints he’d dropped, the way he talked about corporate interests—but hearing him admit it so openly made it terrifyingly real.
“What do they know?” she asked, and immediately wished she could take the words back. Too eager. Too obvious.
His condescending smile widened. “Interested now, are we? I thought you had no patience for GenCon’s ‘unethical practices.’”
“I have no patience for watching someone hand over legitimate scientific discoveries to corporate exploitation.” She held his gaze, refusing to look away. “But if there’s data out there that affects my research, I have a right to know about it.”
“Your research.” Martin laughed bitterly. “Always so precious about your research, Alina. As if the readings from a third-rate geochemistry lab are going to change the world.”
The insult stung, but she’d heard worse from him. She waited.
“Fine.” He pulled a tablet from his coat pocket, scrolling through screens with sharp, impatient gestures. “Since you’re so committed to scientific transparency. GenCon’s monitoring satellites have detected unusual thermal signatures in the eastern mountains over the past six months. Localized heat sources that shouldn’t exist, given what we know about Martian geology. Atmospheric fluctuations that don’t match any established models. And—” he paused dramatically, “—biochemical readings that suggest the presence of complex organic compounds.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs.They know. They don’t know what, exactly, but they know something is there.
“Organic compounds.” She forced her voice to remain steady. “Mars has always had organic compounds. The Viking landers detected them in the seventies?—”
“Not like these.” Martin thrust the tablet towards her. “Look at the spectral analysis. These signatures indicate living organic processes. Active metabolism. Something down there is breathing, Dr. Falkner.”
She took the tablet, scanning the data while her mind raced. The readings were imprecise—satellite data always was—but they painted a picture that was uncomfortably close to the truth. If GenCon sent a team to investigate, if they found the lava tube, if they discovered the cavern…
Rhyx.
“Interesting,” she said, handing the tablet back. “But hardly conclusive. These signatures could be explained by any numberof geological processes. Thermophilic bacteria in subsurface water, radiolytic decomposition of organic sediments?—”
“Or?” Martin’s eyes glittered with barely contained excitement.
She shrugged, adopting her most professionally dismissive tone. “Or the planet is waking up.”
The words landed like a stone in still water. Martin blinked, his expression shifting from eagerness to confusion.
“I’m sorry?”
