Page 20 of The Red Woman on Mars

“Bring her some eggs and bacon, Casp.” Ivey took a sip of her coffee. “I find I can handle anything after a good night’s sleep and a warm breakfast, don’t you agree, Vivian?”

“I—I don’t have a lot of experience with either.” When Caspian placed a plate of food in front of her, Vivian realized she was ravenous.

Ivey poured her a cup of coffee. “You’re on Mars now, my dear. Everyone in the dome has enough to eat. It’s a point of pride.”

“I have meetings.” Caspian took a bite of a flaky roll and walked toward the door. “Vivian, I’ll find you later when Delilah is ready.”

“Thank you.” Vivian moistened her lips. “You’ve been so kind.” Perhaps sheshouldpush Delilah to pick Caspian. After a daywatching Caspian and Xavier side-by-side, Vivian could clearly see Caspian’s merits as a husband.

Vivian had just finished the last of her eggs when she looked up to the sound of heavy footfalls. “Walk with me.” On the opposite end of the dining table, Xavier loomed over her.

“Goodness, X, do you have to be such a brute?” Ivey said with some amusement. “You may refuse him, my dear.”

Vivian was about to do just that when Xavier cleared his throat and said in a softer tone, “Miss Vivian Bowen, would you honor me with a promenade in the gardens?”

Ivey tapped two fingers on each hand together. “Much better.” Leaning toward Vivian, she murmured, “He can be taught after all.”

Keeping her voice neutral to hide her curiosity, Vivian said, “Alright.” She put down her coffee cup and rose to her feet.

The two stepped out the dining room’s glass side doors into the gardens. Pruned lemon trees framed a redstone path winding through the grounds. The tiny chartreuse fruit made for a cheery backdrop to their uncomfortably silent walk.

“You spoke of a choice that was no choice,” Xavier said abruptly. “Explain.”

Vivian looked out at the manicured landscape. At first glance, it seemed lush. Purple flowers of varied heights flowed in garden beds in front of pointy green shrubs. But there was a curious absence of life. The garden had no wind or birdsong. Even in the barren dirt fields of Sumter, squirrels and mice found a home. When she’d left, the only thing she’d expected to miss was her parents and friends. She hadn’t reckoned she’d miss Earth itself.

“Arcadia made us a good offer,” Vivian said. “Do you know about our backgrounds?”

Xavier nodded. “My aunt recruited all of you from American refugee camps.”

“She did. Do you understand what that means?”

“Of course I understand. I’ve read all about it.” Xavier paused, rubbing his temples. In a softer tone, he said, “Forgive me. I don’t understand. Not like someone who’s lived it. Tell me. Please.”

Vivian raised her head and looked at the rosy sky. “I remember the smell. For months on the transport ship, I’d wake up in the middle of the night gagging on the memory of unwashed bodies crammed together. It wasn’t so bad when we first arrived after Pippa, but every year there was a new storm, and new families would arrive. And they wouldn’t let us leave—not without a sponsor or a work permit. But there was no work and nowhere to go. And only each other to take out our frustration upon. Until the Arcadia reps came.” She rubbed her throat reflexively and didn’t mention Max Rinaldi. What if her parents had tried to send a message to her in the dormitory while she was gone? She shouldn’t linger in this lovely aristocratic dreamworld.

“No matter what the conditions, my aunt does not have the right to take advantage of your situation to use you as a vessel for breeding genetically enhanced Martian babies.”

“A vessel. Yes, that’s one way to put it.” A womb. A vessel. Either way, a tool to be exploited.

Xavier frowned down at her. “Do you even understand the contract you signed? The risks you’ve agreed to?”

Vivian shrugged. The Arcadia representative had put the electronic contract in front of her and verbally explained the arrangement. She hadn’t read it. What would have been the point? It wasn’t as if she’d had room to negotiate. “A first payment when we select a partner.” Enough to buy her parents’ escape. “I must have at least three babies. There’s a bonus for more. I understand the terms.”

“A partner.” Xavier snorted. “The marriage terms in the contract you signed offer you no protection. You have no rights to your spouse’s property or wealth. If you divorce, you lose custody of your children. In the event of a disagreement on a decisionabout your children’s medical care or education, the Martian partner’s will takes precedence. It’s obscene.”

“I won’t get divorced.” Vivian tried to push away his words. “Why would I want to walk away from stability and protection?”

“My Earther mother thought similarly. My father put a pre-nuptial agreement in front of her, and she signed it without negotiating. And then she was trapped. Martian oligarchs have been playing this game with Earther women for a hundred and fifty years. Now, my aunt has found a way to institutionalize it.”

“What—what happened to your mother?”

“She died,” he said shortly.

“I’m sorry,” Vivian offered.

Xavier shook his head. “It was a long time ago.” He let out a breath. “Do you understand how painful carrying these genetically modified fetuses will be? The in-utero calcium treatments will wreak havoc on your body. And they plan to put you through it three times. It’s no wonder they had to recruit desperate women off-world from a failed state. No Earther woman already comfortable here on Mars would subject herself to the pain and potential for lifelong side effects.”

Vivian shook her head. He was exaggerating. He must be. But the nurse’s words came back to her.I’m grateful for your sacrifice.With a bravado she didn’t feel, Vivian said, “I’ve known hunger pangs and stitches without anesthesia. I can handle pain.”