One inhabitant of our settlement wasn’t happy about Muffin.
Leo.
He prowled around Muffin’s habitat like the mouse was a piece of chocolate cake he couldn’t wait to taste. After he almost knocked the habitat off the table in the recreation room, we decided to move it somewhere with less cat traffic: the algae farm.
Phinneus was delighted to have the mouse there. He even made special peanut-butter algae mouse treats.
“You like these treats, don’t you, darling?” he crooned as he fed the mouse. I think he loved Muffin even more than we kids did.
“He’s a good mouse,” I said.
“He?” he asked. “That’s a female.”
“Oh,” I said. “How can you tell?”
“Grow up on a farm, and you’ll learn fast,” he said with a wry look.
“Do you think we should have saved two mice?” I asked him. “Won’t Muffin get lonely without a friend? He—I mean she—doesn’t have anyone to play with.”
Kind of like me these days.
“Ah, I see,” he said, and gave me a knowing look. “We’ll just have to give her a lot of love and attention, then, right?”
“Right,” I said.
We watched Muffin scratch at the edges of the walls of the habitat as if trying to get out.
“Poor thing wants her freedom,” Phinneus observed.
“But it’s not safe outside for her,” I said.
He gave me a long look.
“I suppose,” he said. “But living in a cage is no kind of life, even for a mouse.”
Flossy poked her head through my door. “Pssst! Come to our room!”
I looked up from my book. I’d been reading about mice.
“No way,” I said. “Last time I did that, I ended up in a sling.”
“Oh, come on, silly. This is about Meems’s birthday. It’s perfectly safe!”
“Okay,” I said. “But if any of you talk about stealing a rover, I’m leaving.”
When I got to the older kids’ room, she shut the door. Albie and Trey and Vera were already there.
“It’s Meems’s birthday next week,” Flossy said. “We’re going to throw her a surprise party!”
“We are?” I asked.
“Yes! I have it all figured out!” she said. “And you’re going to help!”
The next morning, I nosed around the shelves in Sai’s workshop. We needed duct tape to hang the decorations on the walls. Flossy figured I could grab a roll on my dust rounds. When I’d left the mess hall, Sai was still eating breakfast.
The duct tape wasn’t in the usual bin, so I started to dig around in the supplies. Finding where Sai had hidden it didn’t take long; it was next to a box marked “Sai—Personal.” I was curious, so I opened it.
The box was full of random things. A pirate hat. A folded piece of paper that said Je t’aime. A red T-shirt with the words “We Did It!” And a dry, crisp-looking plant. It was purple and looked like an Earth flower. When I lifted it to my nose, it still held a faint perfume.
At the bottom of the box was an award of some kind.
I heard footsteps coming down the hall, so I shoved everything into the box and pushed it back. Then I rushed to the wall where the filter was and pretended to empty the dust.
Sai stopped short when he saw me. “Well, you got an early start today.”
I grinned. “Yep! Already done!”
When I went to walk past him with my bucket, his hand came down on my shoulder. Luckily, it was my good one.
“I don’t recall giving you that duct tape,” he said.
Aw, dust it.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Bell.”
“We’re throwing a surprise birthday party for Meems and need tape to hang the decorations,” I said in a rush.
“I see.” He studied me. “In that case, you may take the duct tape.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“By the way, I’m looking forward to trying your carrot cake,” he said, and turned away.
My mouth dropped open.
Like I said, it was impossible to keep a secret on Mars.
The night before Meems’s birthday, I went up to Salty Bill as he was putting things away in the kitchen.
“Would it be okay if I did some cooking tonight?” I asked. “I just thought I would make some cookies.”
He gave me a hard look. Finally, he said, “Make sure you clean up when you’re done. I don’t want to find a sink full of dishes tomorrow morning.”
“Sure, no problem,” I told him.
“Also,” he said, “use toasted pecans in the batter. That’s my trick for a great carrot cake.”
I shook my head. Honestly, was there anyone Phinneus hadn’t told?
Albie offered to help me bake the cake. He was the best cook of all us kids. He patiently walked me through the recipe step-by-step. It was late by the time I’d finished spreading the white icing on the cake. I stood back to admire my work.
“What do you think?” I asked him.
“Hmm,” he said. “What if we decorated the top with some more carrots? Stick them in the cake so they look like they’re growing out of the icing?”
“Oooh! That’s a great idea!” I said. “I’ll go grab a few from the farm.”
“I’ll start cleaning up this mess,” he said, looking at the pile of dirty bowls we’d used.
“Okay,” I said.
Leo was sniffing and scratching at the door to the algae farm when I arrived.
“Mwar!” he said, which meant Let me in! in Cat.
“Sorry, Leo,” I told him. “You can’t eat Muffin.”
I opened the door and slid inside, closing it quickly so Leo couldn’t follow. That didn’t stop him from yowling.
A familiar sight greeted me: Phinneus was asleep at the table, his head pillowed on his arms. Across from him, Muffin darted around her habitat.
I headed back to get the carrots. The tops were tall and fuzzy and green. I pulled one up from the container. It was fat and perfect.
In short order, I’d harvested my carrots. I was carrying them out when I paused by the table where Phinneus was sleeping.
“Did you tell every single person in the settlement that I was making this cake for Meems?” I asked him.
Phinneus slept on.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t tell Meems.”
He didn’t speak.
Across from him, Muffin started running madly on the wheel we’d made for her habitat. The wheel rattled noisily, but Phinneus slept on.
It was odd.
“Phinneus,” I said, shaking him gently, and then froze.
Because something was very wrong. His body was so still. Too still. I leaned closer and touched his chest to see if it was moving.
It wasn’t.
That’s when I started screaming.