Rufus Oladepo looked across his desk at Julie, then returned his gaze to her asteroid crash report on his screen.
“You really think the crash at Noctis Labyrinthus was deliberate?” he said.
“The CrediCor asteroid controller admitted as much,” said Julie.
“But we don’t know who paid her.”
“No,” Julie admitted. “I haven’t been able to trace the payment.”
“You also think the scientists were evacuated from the research station on purpose?”
“The chances of it being a coincidence are too great.”
“But you don’t think this controller woman was involved in that?”
“I don’t see how. She said no one was supposed to be there. I got the impression she agreed to orchestrate the crash because she was told no one would die.”
“But someone did die,” said Rufus. He peered at the screen to read the name. “This Giovanni person.”
“That’s a bit of an anomaly. He was one of the tech crew based at Thor Town.”
Rufus leant back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head so his elbows spread out wide to emphasize his already dominating presence. “It seems to me, Julie, you haven’t got very much.”
She leaned forward across the desk as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I have financial records which prove Mah Chynna took a bribe and I have her confession. I have analysis of the two asteroid fragments which ninety-nine percent prove they were never part of the same rock. I have a mangled piece of guidance equipment which caused the crash in the canyon, and I have the extracted data which differs from the official version logged by CrediCor.”
“Yes, but does anyone care?”
Julie’s mouth opened to argue, but for once in her life she was lost for words. “Of… Of course they care,” she managed, eventually. “A ThorGate project was effectively bombed from space using a terraforming project as cover. How can you not care?”
“But look at all the positive things that have come out of it,” said Rufus. “CrediCor and Ecoline are teaming up to build a bigger and better center for conducting plant experiments. One, I might add, that isn’t costing the Terraforming Committee one single MegaCredit. We have all the excitement surrounding the discovery of life on Mars. I know it might mean sacrificing the Noctis City project, but think of the scientific significance locked up in those native microbes. The asteroid crash is yesterday’s news.”
“But you will publish my report?” said Julie.
“Naturally.”
“I want to hold a press conference to announce my findings and make sure all corporations, the World Government and every news outlet receives a copy.”
“No,” said Rufus, sitting upright in his chair again. He reached over to his screen and closed down the page which showed Julie’s conclusions.
“I beg your pardon?” Again, she could barely believe what she was hearing.
“It will be published in the Terraforming Committee archives.”
“Where no one will see it?”
“They will when the archives become public. Which is, I think, in twenty years. I believe that’s the timescale we agreed on.”
“Rufus, you can’t seriously be suggesting we sweep this matter under the carpet. You hired me to do this job. You chose me to find out what was really happening.”
“I know, but Julie, you can’t seriously be suggesting we drag CrediCor’s reputation through the mud when they’re investing so much in the planet’s future.”
Julie’s eyes narrowed as she regarded Rufus with renewed suspicion. “Has Bard been speaking to you?”
“I’ve had words with him, naturally.”
“How much did he offer to pay you?”
His face reddened in anger. “How dare you imply that I would accept a bribe. That may have been how you ran things back in your day, Julie Outerbridge, but I can’t be bought. Even by someone as rich as Bard Hunter. I merely assured him that his new project – which, may I remind you, is of considerable benefit to the people of Mars – will not be hampered by some unnecessary witch hunt.”
“Unbelievable!” Julie stood up so fast, her chair was knocked over backwards. It clattered to the floor where she left it. “You’re going to turn a blind eye to corruption? I thought better of you, Rufus Oladepo.”
She turned, unable to live with the disgust she felt by looking at him any longer, and headed for the door.
“Julie,” Rufus called after her. “Don’t think you can leak this information privately. Remember, the Terraforming Committee has its review coming up soon and UNMI will have to apply for universal tax funding to keep its projects running. My members will not look favorably upon an organization whose leader goes behind their backs.”
His threat stabbed her in the stomach. Julie felt sick, betrayed and outmaneuvered. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning back so he could see the hurt on her face. She threw open the door and allowed it to slam against the wall as she stormed out and headed for the street.
•••
Julie sat in her office and stared at the live view of Mars on her window. It was that very stark beauty of the planet and its virgin potential which had inspired her to move her whole life to that rusty, red, rocky dust ball all those years ago. But her optimism and excitement had been undermined by some of the people who had followed her out there. People who had poisoned the Earth with their self-important ambition and disregard for others and were now spreading that same poison across Mars.
The anger still raged inside of her, even though it had been hours since she had been face to face with that self-centered, conniving…
She sighed and told herself not to waste any more energy on that weasel of a politician. She had devoted the last few weeks to discovering what really happened in the asteroid disaster and Rufus had thrown it all back in her face. He didn’t care about the truth, all he cared about was his image. He had stood beside the smashed remains of the ThorGate research station and announced that there would be an investigation because it played well in front of the cameras, not because he wanted the truth. Once he learnt that Julie’s report made for uncomfortable reading, he conspired to bury it. What mattered, it seemed, was progress in the terraforming project. How humanity made that progress was immaterial.
That was not what Julie had signed up for or what she wanted to be associated with.
Her WristTab bleeped that she had an incoming message. She glanced down to dismiss it, but saw it was a video message from her parents.
“Window,” she said. “Play latest video message from Mom and Dad.”
The view of Mars disappeared and was replaced by the image of her mother. She looked older than she had done in her last message. She wasn’t wearing makeup and her face was so pale, it was almost gray. The light in her eyes had dulled until they were almost glassy. Mom attempted to smile at the camera, but the movement of her lips didn’t engage the other muscles of her face and only made her look sorrowful instead of happy.
“Hello, Julie, it’s Mom.”
“Hi, Mom,” said Julie, even though the recording of her mother couldn’t hear her.
“I’ve… got some bad news. I don’t know if you’re sitting down, but… you should sit down.”
Mom’s eyes glanced away and she took a breath. Julie stopped breathing as the coldness of dread spread through her body.
“Dad died last night. A heart attack, we think. He was rushed to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do. He was already gone.” Mom’s voice was croaky, like someone who had cried herself hoarse. But there was no longer any sign of tears. She appeared numb, washed out and in shock. “It was sudden, which is a blessing. We think it happened in his sleep, so he died peacefully. That’s all any of us can ask for, isn’t it?
“But I don’t want you sitting up there on Mars worrying about me. Rachel’s traveling here and all the neighbors have been wonderful. I’ve got the funeral to sort out, so that’s going to keep me busy. I know you’re doing important work in space and Dad wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m going to go now, I’m tired. But I’ll keep you informed. Just keep yourself safe up there.”
Mom tried another smile and reached over to end the recording.
“Window, freeze image,” Julie ordered.
The window obeyed and a still picture of her mother remained on the screen. Julie stood up and walked over to it. Close up, she could see the individual pinpricks of light which made up Mom’s face. She had wanted to be closer to her, but instead it only emphasized that the video was an artificial reconstruction of the person she loved. Nevertheless, Julie reached out to touch Mom’s cheek and, as her palm connected with the membrane of the window, she imagined the soft, warm touch of her mother’s skin.
Imagination was all she had. She wasn’t there when Dad died and, unlike her sister who was only a plane ride away, she couldn’t be there to comfort Mom. Even if she walked out of her office at that moment, even if there was a ship scheduled to leave the planet imminently, even if it had space to take her, it would be many months before she would arrive back on Earth. Long after the funeral and long after Mom had struggled through the early stages of grief.
Because Julie had chosen to come to Mars. Because she thought she was participating in a noble cause. Because she thought she could help build a new future for humanity. But all she had really done was turn her back on her family to be part of a world where corruption was king and nobility was for fools.
Julie rested her head on the back of her hand as it touched the screen and felt the weight of the day press upon her with a gravitational force as strong as Jupiter. She had once thought that human ingenuity was so strong that, eventually, it would bring rain to Mars. But, in 2316, the only water that fell on the planet was her own tears.