Page 12 of The Red Woman on Mars

The doctor wrapped Vivian’s arm in a rubbery blue ribbon and pushed the needle into her inner elbow. Vivian watched with sick fascination as the blood left her body.

Dr. Chavez placed the vial of red liquid directly into a small rectangular device in the corner of the room, and it began to whir. “Give that a few minutes.”

“What are you looking for?”

“The level of follicle-stimulating hormone in your system.”

Vivian didn’t understand what that meant, but she wasn’t sure how many more questions the strange doctor would tolerate.

Dr. Chavez pulled a small white oval object out of another drawer and coated it with clear gel. “This will be cold,” she said abruptly and pressed the object against the side of Vivian’s bare stomach. The screen mounted to the wall displayed a distorted gray image. “Good,” Dr. Chavez said without glancing at the screen. “You have plenty of follicles.” She removed the device and handed Vivian a paper towel. “Clean yourself off.” She went to the instrument holding Vivian’s bloodwork. The machine beeped, and the doctor removed the vial.

Vivian wiped the sticky substance from her belly, pulled down her dress, and sat up on the bed. “What do you see?”

“You’re ready,” Dr. Chavez told her. The screen with her data began populating with new information.5.5 mIU/mL. 27.3 pmol.“We’ll begin treatment tonight, and in about two weeks your body will be prepared for the egg retrieval.”

Vivian ignored the way her chest tightened. “Good—that’s good.”

Dr. Chavez handed her a clear package with a needle and a bag of vials. “Self-administer these follicle-stimulating and luteinizing hormones daily.”

Vivian took the bag gingerly. “How?”

“In the stomach.” She touched Vivian’s lower belly. “Right here.”

The bag shook in her hands. “For two weeks?” She could do this. She’d been brought to Mars to do this.

The needle looked very sharp.

“We’re finished here. May the wisdom of the Intelligence guide you.” The doctor brought her fist to her forehead in the same gesture Vivian had seen from Wim.

In the hall, Luz met her, coming out of another exam room. Her light expression was so unlike Luz that Vivian came to a halt.

“What is it?” Vivian asked.

“I’m ready to begin the treatment.”

“Me too. Why do you look so damn cheerful about it?”

Luz grabbed her arm and murmured. “I’ll tell you when we’re out of here.”

In the reception area, Vivian gave a thumbs-up to her sister seated with Camille and asked Luz, “Shouldn’t we wait for everyone else?”

“I’m not spending my whole day in this tiny waiting room. Let’s go.”

They stepped unescorted onto the Martian street. The clinic was located in the central business district at the midpoint of the dome, surrounded by ten-story buildings that nearly scraped the top. The dome’s translucent shimmer was so much higher and farther away compared to their compound located closer to the dome’s sloped edge. Today, the sky was a warm butterscotch color.

The broad, gleaming street teemed with pedestrians clustered in groups of tall Martians and short Earthers. Two lanky Martian children ran past giggling, followed by their harried Earther parents. Inviting storefronts, cafés, and taverns framed the street, their facades bursting with planters of tall, colorful flowers. Above them, supported by arching rails, caterpillar trains glided at a sedate pace. Not a single groundcar was in sight.

Luz pulled Vivian along to follow behind a group of chattering Earthers in coveralls with bandanas covering their heads. “I’ve heard the Intelligence is less likely to perceive your words in a crowded street,” she murmured in Vivian’s ear.

“Why’s that?” Vivian asked curiously.

“The way I understand it, the Intelligence is embedded into the dome itself and is able to observe everything happening—it can even perceive through ceilings and walls. Not to mention it has access to every electronic device in the dome.”

Vivian shuddered. Why would the Martians willingly go along with living under constant surveillance?

“But what I’ve heard is that if you’re surrounded by a lot of busy chatter, it might not be able to pick out your conversation.”

“Alright. Start talking then.”