Queen of Mars - Book III in the Masters of Mars Trilogy Read online

  “He’ll win you over yet,” he repeated, scratching the dog behind the ears, which sent it into further paroxysms of ecstasy.

  “I doubt it,” I said, and shivered again.

  And so autumn turned to winter. The snows came early but gently, in blanketing white storms with almost no wind. It was cold, but warm in the farmhouse. And, I was happy to discover, work on a farm did not end when the winter came. There was always something to do, good hard labor that made the days go fast.

  Hector the dog became, naturally, my constant companion. And while I liked the beast no better, I did come to value his company, especially on those days when Copernicus stole off to the village down the hill to make a subtle inquiry for news both local and broader, or to post one of his letters which might eventually bring word to Newton, and through him to my father and grandmother, that I was safe. Rather than becoming more frequent, as the hand of Frane was pulled back from our area of Mars, that hand seemed to be tightening into a fist, as Frane took advantage of the reported disarray in the east to, miraculously, begin to build yet another army to dominate the planet.

  And there began to appear in the sky at this time a strange, black air ship, which flew very high overhead, and sent me hiding whenever it appeared.

  “That’s it, then,” I said, after this latest news of Frane was delivered. “I can wait no longer, Copernicus. I must leave, and try to pull the remnants of the republic together.”

  “But you’ll be caught! I told you, Frane now has permanent ‘representatives’ in the village. It’s the same everywhere, from what I hear! It would be madness to leave now!”

  “Then I’m mad. But I won’t sit on my heels any longer. I must go. If I stay here, how long will it be before I’m finally discovered?”

  “Only a matter of time, I’m afraid. Even today, old Roost was asking who the new worker was he saw from the road...” He shook his head sadly.

  It had begun to snow again, another gentle storm with just a hint of wind. Gentle drifts were kissing the farmhouse and the barn.

  “I will go with you,” Copernicus said. Hector sat at his feet, looking at me with his needy eyes.

  “You will not. I will do as we planned months ago, and follow the route you set out for me. But if you remember that plan, you had to stay, to divert attention from me.”

  He nodded, resigned. “I will continue to try to get word to Newton. If he contacts me I’ll tell him where to find you. But remember, you must keep to the route.”

  “I will.”

  We spent the rest of the night with packing and provisions, while poor Hector, who I finally did admit affection for, bayed as if the two moons overhead were no more.

  The snow had ceased when I stepped out of the farmhouse and bade Copernicus good-bye. He did not hide his weeping, and I barely contained mine. I bent down to rub Hector behind the ears, then kissed Copernicus quickly on his furry cheek and turned and walked away.

  To my surprise the dog followed me, and would not be convinced to turn back.

  “It seems he has made his decision, too,” Copernicus said.

  “But he’s your dog!”

  Copernicus shook his head. “Only as long as he wanted to be. He wants someone else, now. Treat him well, your majesty.”

  Before I could protest Copernicus had closed the door.

  I looked down at the beast, whose tongue lolled and eyes were filled with anticipation and love. I had to admit that over these months he had, in his own strange way, helped me heal. I shrugged, and turned to the path that led from the farm and down the hill away from the village, to the rolling hills beyond.

  “It seems I have a dog,” I sighed.

  Eighteen

  The snow returned that night in great force.

  We had trudged barely five miles from the farm when the storm hit. It was sometime after midnight, and my horse immediately turned his flank to the wind, and I knew we were in for it. Hector, who began to howl, tried to claw me from the saddle but he needed no help. I climbed down as a sudden avalanche of snow hit us. The sky had whited out, and I could not see a foot in front of me.

  “No chance to turn back, eh, boy?” I said, hugging the shivering dog, and I yanked my horse to the right, toward where I thought I had seen a clump of bushes.

  I found the bushes by walking into them. They were thick tacra trees, with thin denuded branches which twisted together tightly. In the spring they would blossom with tiny red buds, but now they formed a sheltering canopy over us, though it was a tight fit.

  As soon as we were settled Hector insisted on running off. I saw the faint and disappearing tracks of a rabbit or stoat, and he was compelled to investigate.

  He returned some time later, mournful at his failure to properly hunt.

  “That’s all right,” I said, petting his head. It was amazing how soothing to me the motion was. The branches shook above us, but we were effectively in a little cave, snug if not warm. I pulled some food from my saddlebags, and fed my two animals and then myself. I was suddenly weary. Overhead, and not three feet from where we sat, the storm raged, but now I spread a blanket on the ground and curled down onto it.

  In an instant I was asleep.

  I awoke to blinding light, and remarkably refreshed. Overhead the snow caught in the branches of the tacra tree had partially melted and then refroze into mottled ice, throwing a prism of colors around our little cave. I pushed past the horse, who snuffled with impatience, and made my way outside.

  The world was beautifully white.

  Except by the sun, there was no way to tell north from south, east from west. There were no discernable landmarks. As quickly as the storm had come it had gone, leaving a thick blanket of white on every hill and valley to all horizons. I put my boot down into it, and estimated that nearly a foot of snow had dropped the night before.

  It would be impossible to travel cross country with this much snow on the ground.

  “Well, that’s it,” I said out loud. “We’ll have to go back to Copernicus’s farm and take our chances.”

  At that moment a tiny dot appeared in the sky in the east, and quickly grew into an airship. It was the strange craft I had seen over the farm these past weeks. Almost jet black in color, it looked like a huge, sleek metal bird.

  I shrank back into the mouth of my shelter and waited for it to pass on. But, instead, when it was almost overhead it began to circle, dropping down with each lap until I could plainly see its unmarked surface, and the darkened windows along its side and in its nose.

  It drew lower, lower, circling like a bird of prey, and I suddenly felt certain that it was searching for me. A hundred thoughts flew through my brain – Copernicus had been taken prisoner, tortured, made to give up my position and heading, Frane had bribed and terrorized her way into finding out where I was...

  The black bird swooped lower, and now, from its underbelly, descended long black skis in lieu of wheels, and the bird straightened and swooped down to a landing.

  I retreated to my horse and drew my weapons, a sword to go with the dagger beneath my tunic.

  I would not go without a fight, and Frane would not have me alive.

  Hector began to growl as the black bird touched down at the far end of the valley I was in and headed straight for me. On the ground it looked even more like a carrion bird, its black beak pointed at me.

  It churned up vast amounts of snow in its wake and came to rest, its engines hissing down, not a hundred feet away.

  There came a mechanical whining sound, and a door snicked open on its left side, behind the cockpit, and lowered itself to the ground.

  I stepped out of my hiding place to meet my enemy, my sword clutched tightly in my right hand, dagger in my left.

  A figure descended the steps of the lowered gangway, obscured for a moment by a burst of wind which threw its tunic across its face.

  I moved forward and waited.

  The figure stepped to the ground and stepped toward me.

  My h
eart went into my throat.

  I dropped my sword and dagger and began to run, as did the other.

  “Darwin!” I shouted, with every ounce of feeling in my body. “You live!”

  Part Two

  The Second Battle

  Nineteen

  “It isn’t much of a mystery at all,” Darwin insisted, his paw resting in both of my own.

  We were truly snug and warm, a half mile off the ground and flying like birds ourselves. The air ship was comfortable, but that had not kept Hector from raising holy hell when I tried to get him on board. I would not have thought that such a creature, weighing no more than fifteen pounds, could exert so much backward pressure. It took Darwin, laughing madly, and me both to push the dog into the plane, and then to keep him there. He sat now on a seat in front of Darwin and I, making angry, sad noises in the back of his throat and staring out the window with his big, moony eyes.

  “Why didn’t you let it be known that you had left Wells before the concussion bomb was dropped?”

  “To put it simply,” Darwin answered, in a much more patient manner than I remembered him having – he looked older and, yes, a bit wiser than he had the last time I saw him – “I was on a diplomatic mission with seven senators, and had just reached Bradbury when the bomb struck Wells. In fact, nearly half the senate, and a third of the Assembly, survived the attack. Many were in their home districts solidifying support for your monarchy and preventing any repeat of F’rar defections. We thought it best not to let Frane know just how much of the government had survived, your majesty.”

  “You must call me Clara!”

  “As you know, your majesty, there are certain proper ways of address that must be adhered to—”

  I squeezed his paw. “But when we are wed...”

  He grinned. “Then you may call me King! Or ‘Mr. King’, if you like!”

  I gazed into his eyes, his face, which I had thought I would never see again.

  “You must never leave my side again, Darwin,” I said. “Consider that a royal order.”

  His grin widened, and then clouded. “There were times these past months when I thought I would never see you again, too. And then when word reached us from Copernicus that you were hiding in his home, and that sooner or later Frane or her monsters would find you...” His paw, still resting in the cup of both of my own, clenched into a fist.

  “We will defeat her, Darwin,” I said. “This time she cannot win.”

  His eyes had a faraway look.

  “How is Newton?” I asked brightly, to bring him back.

  Darwin sighed. “He is an old man, and has become even older. He sees the destruction of Wells as the fault of the Science Guild. It weighs heavily on him, and I’m afraid you may be startled by his appearance.”

  “I will try not to show it. He is a great man.”

  “Yes, and the republic may not last without his help.”

  Again he had that look as if he was in another place.

  I tightened my grip on his paw. “What is it, Darwin? What’s wrong?”

  “There are...other developments, your majesty.”

  “Tell me.”

  He shook his head. “I will let Newton tell you. It is his place.”

  For the rest of the flight we talked of many other things, some of them happy, such as our betrothal, and, of course, our coming nuptials.

  Even Hector was content, barking at a flock of keesel birds, huge white feathered beasts with wide, deep red beaks, flying in formation below us. The dog had finally found as much wonder in the sky as on the ground.

  Twenty

  To my great surprise we landed not in the city of Bradbury but at the base of Arsia Mons, the Science Guild stronghold. It seemed like five years had passed since I’d last been here, but it had only been a matter of months.

  “Is Newton here?” I asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Darwin said, averting his eyes.

  When I sought more information he would only say, “You will see soon, your majesty.”

  The drafty corridors were as I remembered them, the various rooms the same, and when I traversed that last passageway with Darwin by my side the same old knot in my stomach formed.

  “Must we see them?” I asked.

  Darwin, his eyes still holding that strange look, said, “It is imperative.”

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door to the blue chamber and went in.

  At first I thought the two daises were empty, but then in the gloom I could just make out two ghostly figures, as if made of blue gauze.

  Then the voice of my grandmother called out, in strong if faint tones, with the faint air of amusement they often held, “Come close, Queen Clara.”

  I nodded automatically and climbed the short steps to stand by her.

  She was smiling, but I could almost see through her. On his own dais, my father looked even more insubstantial, staring into nothingness.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked.

  “We’re dying, child,” Grandmother Haydn said, smiling sadly.

  All of my fear of what they had become was gone in an instant, and I dropped to my knees in front of her. I tried to throw my hands around her legs by my paws went right through the simulacrum.

  “It is true,” Newton’s voice rasped from behind me. I turned to see his face shockingly wizened and wrinkled. He cleared his throat and coughed. “They will soon be gone. The regenerations are no longer working, and this will be their last time among us.”

  Something broke in me, a deep well I did not even know was there, and I began to sob.

  “This cannot be!”

  “Shhhh,” Grandmother Haydn soothed, and for a moment I felt the faint touch of her paw on my head, as if a feather had brushed across it.

  I looked up and she was still smiling. I could not stop weeping. “As much as I’ve always dreaded coming here, I’ve always loved you! You’re all I have!”

  Again I felt the feather touch of her paw, and looked over to see my father staring at me, concentrating, a slight smile on his face.

  “It’s all right, daughter,” he said, his voice sounding a thousand miles away. “This will be better for your grandmother and me.”

  “But you can’t go! I’ll be all alone!”

  My father’s eyes flickered toward Darwin for a moment. Again his ghostly smile. “That’s not true, Clara.”

  He seemed to go away for a moment, but then the blue cloud that held his essence slowly coalesced once more.

  “You’re my family!”

  “Soon you’ll have your own family,” Grandmother Haydn said gently. Her voice hardened, ever so slightly. “Now act like a queen, and stand up. We have things to discuss.”

  I did so, banishing my tears.

  Once again my father was staring at nothing, a beatific smile on his face.

  Even as my father weakened, my grandmother seemed to strengthen, her form becoming more substantial.

  “Newton will discuss this with you later, but Frane is making preparations for one last battle, in the north, near the ice cap on the plains of Arcadia Planitia. It is where she was all along, while you fought her shadow army at Valles Marineris. Her army is not huge, and it is a ragtag of outlaw clans, mercenaries and criminals, most of them mad with mocra root. She has gone mad with it herself, we are told.”

  She took a deep breath and for a moment was unable to speak, and Newton, behind me, cleared his throat and continued, in his old man’s voice, “The good news is that at the moment she has almost no F’rar backing. With some careful moves on your part, there will be no insurrection from within. She is making her last stand, your majesty. This time we can finally destroy her.”

  Something hardened within me.

  “Then we will do it.”

  Grandmother Haydn resumed: “There are no more concussion bombs on all of Mars. She will fight a conventional battle. She can be beaten.”

  I saw the same hope in her own tired eyes that I held in my breas
t.

  “Then this will be her last battle.”

  “Good.”

  As if all of her strength had gone into this meeting, she suddenly faded, looking even more insubstantial than when I had come in.

  “There is one other thing,” my father said. Even as my grandmother faded he seemed to draw that strength to himself.

  I stood before him, and, to my surprise, he would not meet my gaze.

  “What is it, father?”

  “Your mother...”

  “What of her?” A sudden horrid thought came to me. Almost desperately I asked, “I was told she survived the attack on Wells.”

  “Yes she did.”

  “What, then?”

  “She is with Frane.”

  It was as if a thunderbolt had gone through me. “This cannot be!”

  “Her own...madness was caused by mocra root, administered to her by we know not who, a confederate of Frane within the palace. The same spy, we believe, poisoned General Xarr with an overdose of the same drug. Before the capital was bombed your mother was spirited away, and we know that she now is in Frane’s hands.”

  Rage grew within me, but I held it in check as I saw my father’s spectral form begin to weep.

  “I loved her so...” he said, putting covering his face with his paws.

  “I will bring her home safely,” I said.

  “If you were to do that,” my father said, reaching out – and through – my own paw with his own, “what is happening to me would be a peaceful end.”

  “I will get her back, father,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I vow it.”

  My father’s form faded, flickered, came wavering back.

  Newton was behind me, his paw drawing me gently away.

  “You must let them rest,” he whispered.

  “No! Leave me alone with them for a moment!”

  As if my command had been a gunshot, both Newton and Darwin withdrew from the room, closing the door gently behind them.

  I faced the only two forms who had dominated my nightmares and my waking life since I was a kit. As much as I had always dreaded this place, I had longed desperately for the company and wisdom of these two beings. And here before me they were fading, dying, forever.