A Fistful of Dust Read Free Page B

as displayed by their actions. If it were not for Kak’hamish, I would be dead. Nathaniel, too, in all probability. I owe that Martian a great debt and only wish I could…” She hesitated, aware her words were going to sound blasphemous, but enjoying the prospect of shocking Elizabeth, she said them anyway. “Resurrect the dead.”
    “I do believe you attempt to alarm me.” Elizabeth raised her head defiantly. “I will not be quelled.”
    “Pity then that you were quelled in front of Sir Henry. All we requested was intelligence pertinent to this journey.”
    “And my brother shall answer your questions, I am sure.” Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of her. “Can we not begin again? When I heard another woman would be present I had hoped to find a companion with a like-minded heart.”
    “Perhaps if you cease that wretched hand-wringing we will be more like-minded.”
    Undeterred or covering it well, Elizabeth continued. “I admit I have never understood the desire for adventuring until now. It quite fires the blood.”
    “You wish an adventure? While your fiancé is missing?” It was difficult to tell what laced her voice with more venom, sarcasm or incredulity.
    “My Henry is an adventurer at heart and I hope this trip will help me understand him.”
    Annabelle took a step in what she hoped was an imperious manner. “I would not be marrying a man I did not understand. And have you not heard the phrase to be careful what you wish for?”
    Turning, Annabelle left Elizabeth where she stood. She was not heartless and on some level wanted to offer comfort, but really, the woman had crossed space to the Red Planet and acted as if they were out on a picnic. Experience had taught Annabelle that to be in the aether was no Sunday afternoon outing. The girl showed spirit but that would only help her so far. She had better learn quickly. For her own sake.
    2.
    ARNAUD PRACTICED THE British stiff-upper lip. He was not agitated with the prospect of unexpected adventure, inhospitable landscapes, or impossible creatures, but of entertaining an interloper.
    “One more hand to the plough,” Annabelle had said, though with some sarcasm. Then, more subdued, “You concern yourself too greatly with inconsequence.”
    She had sounded troubled, but he’d been too preoccupied with her phrasing to consider her feelings. Being bullied wasn’t of little consequence in Arnaud’s book. Pulling strings just… Well, it wasn’t done in polite circles…or so he could imagine Nathaniel saying, although after voicing his initial doubts, Nathaniel had remained silent on the subject. Lately, life contained too many shades of grey. Arnaud could forgive Sir Henry for a controversial act of kindness. Nevertheless, they were all as unhappy with this arrangement as he was, with the possible exception of Folkard.
    The man still hadn’t fully explained his sudden insistence that they visit Phobos, although he didn’t entirely need to. He clearly linked the orbit of Phobos with some fluctuation in his sensing of the minerals, and besides had they not headed towards Mars at the urging of the Heart? Had not Nathaniel suggested to Folkard at the time that perhaps their destination may have been Phobos, and not Mars as would seem the obvious option? When one was not privilege to the feeling, it was difficult to question the man who had become nothing short of their divining rod. More worrisome than that, Arnaud wagered, something troubled Folkard to a greater extent than usual, although being plagued with intermittent signals should be enough to explain anyone’s tight-lipped silence. Still, if Folkard felt unwell or distressed they needed to know.
    “You may wait within, Doctor. There’s no need for us all to be pacing the gangway.”
    Folkard’s dismissal annoyed him, but not much. Arnaud cleared his throat. “I would not be so ungallant as not to attend.”
    “For sure.” The unexpected sound of Annabelle’s voice to his right almost