Saving Mars Read Free Page B

probably worried about the crowds and trying to find a focal point which would keep him from becoming overwhelmed by the high levels of stimulation.
    “Collecting a dog hair would be a good thing for you to focus on tonight, huh, Eth?”
    Ethan didn’t say anything. He’d stopped scrubbing and was staring blankly at the solars.
    “Hey, Eth, come back to me,” said Jess. “You’re going to be fine tonight. I promise.” Well, she hoped her brother would be fine. Although the festival occurred in a large and open space—the kind of environment Ethan liked—something about crowds made Ethan respond as though he were in a tightly enclosed space. Now Jess had something to worry about besides how miserable an existence she would lead without flying.
    “You could stay home,” suggested Jess.
    “No.”
    “Mom’s staying home this time.”
    “No.”
    “You really want that dog hair, huh?”
    Ethan smiled. “Yes.”
    Jess laughed. Her brother was a genius, but he had some very odd quirks, like his collecting. He’d created a series of layered-level boxes holding objects he found meaningful. Or interesting. Or something. Jess wasn’t able to divine the guiding principle behind his collections.
    When she’d been small, she’d thought of his containers as miniature houses: Ethan would wall off each collected item so that when you looked at one of the levels from above, it was as if you were peering inside a house where the roof had been removed. Each level stacked atop an earlier level so that the whole thing resembled a multi-storied building.
    Her brother’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts.
    “You will fly again, Jessie.”
    Jess was undisturbed by the abrupt change of subject—normal for Ethan—but she flushed at his use of her baby-name. Her fair skin colored at the least provocation and burned easily. Friends murmured with jealousy that Jess was sure to get her First Wrinkle before any of the rest of them.
    “Who wants to be a Mars Raider, anyway,” she said, feigning indifference.
    “Jessamyn does,” replied her brother.
    “Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “No fooling you, huh?”
    “I know that you want this badly enough to risk capture upon Earth, to risk being re-bodied, to risk starting a new war—”
    “All right, already,” said Jess, cutting him off. “Yes to all the above. And tons more. Hades , Ethan. I need a get-out-of-jail-free-card at this point.” She bumped into her brother’s shoulder—a form of contact he tolerated—as she referenced a Terran game he loved.
    But Ethan shook his head. “You need an advocate—someone who will stand up for you and alter the decision of the dean or the board of directors.”
    “How about you?”
    “No,” said Ethan. “My skills in the art of persuasion are negligible. Also, I believe you acted wrongly. You need someone who can persuade others that your wrong action was a right action.”
    Jess laughed, causing her walk-out suit to rush additional oxygen to her helmet. “You’re a freak. You know that, right?”
    “So you have told me.”
    Jess shook her head. “Let’s call it a day. My afternoon wet ration says I can beat you at a game of Monopoly.”
    They bounded back toward the house, bantering.
    “Jessamyn cannot beat me,” insisted Ethan. “There exists adequate data to demonstrate this.”
    “Then I guess Jessamyn will be pretty thirsty come the festival Tea Offering,” she replied, subtly reminding him to refer to her with a pronoun instead of by proper name.
    After a short pause, Ethan said, “You will be as dry as Mars.”
    “Oh, good one,” she said. Figures of speech were challenging for her brother, who thought almost exclusively in terms literal .
    They re-entered the dwelling, shrugging out of their suits. Jess felt her brother’s anxiety rising in the enclosed space.
    “Monopoly,” she said, redirecting his attention. “Go find it.” She hoped it would be enough to distract him out of a downward spiral that